impson (Dochney tol' me this himsilf), 'whin ye find out, come an'
see me about th' notes,' he says. An' Dochney wint to th' meetin';
an', whin his name was called, he hollered 'Aye,' so loud a chunk iv
plaster fell out iv th' ceilin' an' stove in th' head iv a rayform
aldherman."

"Did they hang him?" asked Mr. Hennessy.

"Faith, they did not," said Mr. Dooley. "He begun missin' his jooty at
wanst. Aldhermen always do that after th' first few weeks. 'Ye got
ye'er money,' says Father Kelly; 'an' much good may it do ye,' he
says. 'Well,' says Dochney, 'I'd be a long time prayin' mesilf into
five thousan',' he says. An' he become leader in th' council. Th' las'
ordhnance he inthrojooced was wan establishin' a license f'r churches,
an' compellin' thim to keep their fr-ront dure closed an' th' blinds
drawn on Sundah. He was expelled fr'm th' St. Vincent de Pauls, an'
ilicted a director iv a bank th' same day.

"Now, Hinnissy, that there man niver knowed he was bribed--th' first
time. Th' second time he knew. He ast f'r it. An' I wudden't hang
Dochney. I wudden't if I was sthrong enough. But some day I'm goin' to
let me temper r-run away with me, an' get a comity together, an' go
out an' hang ivry dam widdy an' orphan between th' rollin' mills an'
th' foundlin's' home. If it wasn't f'r thim raypechious crathers,
they'd be no boodle annywhere."

"Well, don't forget Simpson," said Mr. Hennessy.

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

THE GRIP.

Mr. Dooley was discovered making a seasonable beverage, consisting of
one part syrup, two parts quinine, and fifteen parts strong waters.

"What's the matter?" asked Mr. McKenna.

"I have th' lah gr-rip," said Mr. Dooley, blowing his nose and wiping
his eyes. "Bad cess to it! Oh, me poor back! I feels as if a dhray had
run over it. Did ye iver have it? Ye did not? Well, ye're lucky. Ye're
a lucky man.

"I wint to McGuire's wake las' week. They gave him a dacint sind-off.
No porther. An' himsilf looked natural, as fine a corpse as iver Gavin
layed out. Gavin tould me so himsilf. He was as proud iv McGuire as if
he owned him. Fetched half th' town in to look at him, an' give ivry
wan iv thim cards. He near frightened ol' man Dugan into a faint.
'Misther Dugan, how old a-are ye?' 'Sivinty-five, thanks be,' says
Dugan. 'Thin,' says Gavin, 'take wan iv me cards,' he says. 'I hope
ye'll not forget me,' he says.

"'Twas there I got th' lah grip. Lastewise, it is me opini