ay; f'r I
was niver cut out f'r a copper, an' I'd had me fill iv excavatin'. An' I
dhruv th' dhray till I wint into business.

"Me experyence with goold minin' is it's always in th' nex' county. If I
was to go to Alaska, they'd tell me iv th' finds in Seeberya. So I think
I'll stay here. I'm a silver man, annyhow; an' I'm contint if I can see
goold wanst a year, whin some prominent citizen smiles over his
newspaper. I'm thinkin' that ivry man has a goold mine undher his own
dure-step or in his neighbor's pocket at th' farthest."

"Well, annyhow," said Mr. Hennessy, "I'd like to kick up th' sod, an'
find a ton iv goold undher me fut."

"What wud ye do if ye found it?" demanded Mr. Dooley.

"I--I dinnaw," said Mr. Hennessy, whose dreaming had not gone this far.
Then, recovering himself, he exclaimed with great enthusiasm, "I'd throw
up me job an'--an' live like a prince."

"I tell ye what ye'd do," said Mr. Dooley. "Ye'd come back here an'
sthrut up an' down th' sthreet with ye'er thumbs in ye'er armpits; an'
ye'd dhrink too much, an' ride in sthreet ca-ars. Thin ye'd buy foldin'
beds an' piannies, an' start a reel estate office. Ye'd be fooled a good
deal an' lose a lot iv ye'er money, an' thin ye'd tighten up. Ye'd be in
a cold fear night an' day that ye'd lose ye'er fortune. Ye'd wake up in
th' middle iv th' night, dhreamin' that ye was back at th' gas-house
with ye'er money gone. Ye'd be prisidint iv a charitable society. Ye'd
have to wear ye'er shoes in th' house, an' ye'er wife'd have ye around
to rayciptions an dances.' Ye'd move to Mitchigan Avnoo, an' ye'd hire a
coachman that'd laugh at ye. Ye'er boys'd be joods an' ashamed iv ye,
an' ye'd support ye'er daughters' husbands. Ye'd rackrint ye'er tinants
an' lie about ye'er taxes. Ye'd go back to Ireland on a visit, an' put
on airs with ye'er cousin Mike. Ye'd be a mane, close-fisted,
onscrupulous ol' curmudgeon; an', whin ye'd die, it'd take half ye'er
fortune f'r rayqueems to put ye r-right. I don't want ye iver to speak
to me whin ye get rich, Hinnissy."

"I won't," said Mr. Hennessy.

ON BOOKS.

"Ivry time I pick up me mornin' paper to see how th' scrap come out at
Batthry D," said Mr. Dooley, "th' first thing I r-run acrost is
somethin' like this: 'A hot an' handsome gift f'r Christmas is Lucy Ann
Patzooni's "Jims iv Englewood Thought"'; or 'If ye wud delight th'
hear-rt iv yer child, ye'll give him Dr. Harper's monymental histhry iv
th' Jewi