a cocktail
spoon. What's he been doin' again ye?"

"Nawthin'," said Mr. Dooley, "but he was in here Choosday. 'Did ye
vote?' says I. 'I did,' says he. 'Which wan iv th' distinguished bunko
steerers got ye'er invalu'ble suffrage?' says I. 'I didn't have none
with me,' says he, 'but I voted f'r Charter Haitch,' says he. 'I've been
with him in six ilictions,' says he, 'an' he's a good man,' he says.
'D'ye think ye're votin' f'r th' best?' says I. 'Why, man alive,' I
says, 'Charter Haitch was assassinated three years ago,' I says. 'Was
he?' says Dugan. 'Ah, well, he's lived that down be this time. He was a
good man,' he says.

"Ye see, that's what thim rayform lads wint up again. If I liked
rayformers, Hinnissy, an' wanted f'r to see thim win out wanst in their
lifetime, I'd buy thim each a suit iv chilled steel, ar-rm thim with
raypeatin' rifles, an' take thim east iv State Sthreet an' south iv
Jackson Bullyvard. At prisint th' opinion that pre-vails in th' ranks
iv th' gloryous ar-rmy iv ray-form is that there ain't anny-thing worth
seein' in this lar-rge an' commodyous desert but th' pest-house an' the
bridewell. Me frind Willum J. O'Brien is no rayformer. But Willum J.
undherstands that there's a few hundherds iv thousands iv people livin'
in a part iv th' town that looks like nawthin' but smoke fr'm th' roof
iv th' Onion League Club that have on'y two pleasures in life, to
wur-ruk an' to vote, both iv which they do at th' uniform rate iv wan
dollar an' a half a day. That's why Willum J. O'Brien is now a sinitor
an' will be an aldherman afther next Thursdah, an' it's why other people
are sinding him flowers.

"This is th' way a rayform candydate is ilicted. Th' boys down town has
heerd that things ain't goin' r-right somehow. Franchises is bein'
handed out to none iv thim; an' wanst in a while a mimber iv th' club,
comin' home a little late an' thryin' to riconcile a pair iv r-round
feet with an embroidered sidewalk, meets a sthrong ar-rm boy that pushes
in his face an' takes away all his marbles. It begins to be talked that
th' time has come f'r good citizens f'r to brace up an' do somethin',
an' they agree to nomynate a candydate f'r aldherman. 'Who'll we put
up?' says they. 'How's Clarence Doolittle?' says wan. 'He's laid up with
a coupon thumb, an' can't r-run.' 'An' how about Arthur Doheny?' 'I
swore an oath whin I came out iv colledge I'd niver vote f'r a man that
wore a made tie.' 'Well, thin, let's thry Willi