on th' outside. Whin he's
dhrunk he makes th' bluff to his own heart. Dhrink turns him inside out
as well as upside down, an' while he's congratulatin' himsilf on th'
fine man he is, th' neighbors know him f'r a boaster, a cow'rd, an'
something iv a liar. That th' ladies see an' hate. They do not know that
there is wan thing an' on'y wan thing to be said in favor iv dhrink, an'
that is that it has caused manny a lady to be loved that otherwise
might've died single."

"They're all right, said Mr. Hennessy. I'm against it."

"Yes," said Mr. Dooley. "Anny man is against dhrink that's iver been
really against it."

THINGS SPIRITUAL

"Th' latest thing in science," said Mr. Dooley, "is weighin' th' human
soul. A fellow up in Matsachoosetts has done it. He weighs ye befure ye
die an' he weighs ye afther ye die, an' th' diff'rence is what ye'er
soul weighs. He's discovered that th' av'rage weight iv a soul in New
England is six ounces or a little less. Fr'm this he argies that th'
conscience isn't part iv th' soul. If it was th' soul wud be in th'
heavyweight class, f'r th' New England conscience is no feather. He
thinks it don't escape with th' soul, but lies burrid in th' roons iv
its old fam'ly home--th' liver.

"It's so simple it must be true, an' if it ain't true, annyhow it's
simple. But it's a tur-rble thing to think iv. I can't see anny money in
it as an invintion. Who'll want to have his soul weighed? Suppose ye'er
time has come. Th' fam'ly ar-re busy with their own thoughts, grievin'
because they hadn't been as good to ye as they might, because they won't
have ye with thim anny more, because it's too late f'r thim to square
thimsilves, pityin' ye because ye'er not remainin' to share their
sorrows with thim, wondhrin' whether th' black dhresses that were bought
in honor iv what people might have said if they hadn't worn thim in
mimry iv Aunt Eliza, wud be noticed if they were worn again f'r ye. Th'
very young mimbers iv th' fam'ly ar-re standin' around, thryin' to look
as sad as they think they ought to look. But they can't keep it up. They
nudge each other, their eyes wandher around th' room, an' fr'm time to
time they glance over at Cousin Felix an' expect him to make a laugh'ble
face. He's a gr-reat frind iv theirs an' they're surprised he isn't
gayer. Something must've happened to him. Maybe he's lost his job. There
ar-re a gr-reat manny noises in th' sthreet. Th' undertaker whistles as
he goes by, an