ir, whin it comes to goin' up to th' scales to have their souls
weighed people'll be as shy as they are in a Customs House. Th' people
that wud make th' invintion pay wud be th' last to want to be tested by
it. Th' pa-apers might keep records iv th' results: 'Misther So-an'-so,
th' gr-reat captain iv finance, died yesterday, universally regretted.
His estate amounts to nineteen millyon dollars. There ar-re two large
bequests to charity. Wan is a thrust fund set aside f'r his maiden
sister Annybelle, who will receive f'r life th' income on eight
hundhred dollars in stock iv th' Hackensack Meadows Comp'ny. Th' other
is forty-two dollars to buy a wooden leg f'r his brother Isaac, it bein'
undherstood that no charge is to be made be th' estate against th'
brother f'r a set iv false teeth bought f'r him in th' year nineteen
four. Th' balance iv th' property is left in trust f'r th' minor
childher until they ar-re 90 years old. Th' deceased requested that his
soul be measured be troy weight. It tipped th' beam at wan
pennyweight.'"

"D'ye think th' soul can be weighed?" asked Mr. Hennessy. "I know it's
there, but I think--I kind iv feel--I wondher--I don't hardly know--"

"I see what ye mean" said Mr. Dooley. "Scales an' clocks ar-re not to be
thrusted to decide annything that's worth deciding. Who tells time be a
clock? Ivry hour is th' same to a clock an' ivry hour is different to
me. Wan long, wan short. There ar-re hours in th' avenin' that pass
between two ticks iv th' clock; there ar-re hours in th' arly mornin'
whin a man can't sleep that Methusalah's age cud stretch in. Clocks
ar-re habichool liars, an' so ar-re scales. As soon as annything gets
good enough to weigh ye can't weigh it. Scales ar-re f'r th' other
fellow. I'm perfectly willin' to take ye'er weight or ye'er soul's
weight fr'm what th' scales say. Little I care. A pound or two more or
less makes no diff'rence. But when it comes to measurin' something
that's precious to me, I'll not thrust it to a slight improvement on a
see-saw.

"But what do I know about it, annyhow? What do I know about annything?
I've been pitchin' information into ye f'r more years thin anny wan iver
wint to colledge, an' I tell ye now I don't know annything about
annything. I don't like to thrust mesilf forward. I'm a modest man.
Won't somebody else get up? Won't ye get up, Tiddy Rosenfelt; won't ye,
Willum Jennings Bryan; won't ye, Prisidint Eliot; won't ye, pro-fissors,
preachers