'This is a Nebraska man,' I
says. 'Well,' he says, 'if 'tis Bill O'Brien, he'd win easy. But,' he
says, 'if 'tis not,' he says, ''tis wan iv th' fam'ly,' he says. 'I'll
change this here novel an' make it a sketch iv th' cousin iv th'
candydate,' he says. An' he wint on with his wurruk."
A CANDIDATE'S PILLORY.
"What's this counthry comin' to, annyhow, that a man that's out f'r to
be Prisident has to set up on a high chair an' be questioned on his
record be a lot iv la-ads that hasn't had annything to do since th'
carpetbeatin' season's ended? "said Mr. Dooley. "Ye'd think Big Bill
was r-runnin' f'r chief ex-icutive iv th' Clan-na-Gael. First along
comes a comity iv th' Sons iv Rest. 'Major,' says they, 'we're
insthructed be th' organization to ascertain ye'er views on th'
important, we may say all-important, question iv havin' wire
matthresses put on th' benches in th' parks. Are we,' they says,
'goin' f'r to have to wear lumps on our backs into all eternity,' they
says, 'an' have our slumbers broke be th' hot fut iv th' polisman?'
they says.
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