likely it's on'y a wrong turned inside out,' says I. 'I didn't fight f'r th' rights I'm told I injye, though to tell ye th' truth I injye me wrongs more; but some wan did. Some time some fellow was prepared to lay down his life, or betther still, th' other fellows', f'r th' right to vote.'"

"I believe ye're in favor iv it ye'ersilf," said Mr. Hennessy.

"Faith," said Mr. Dooley, "I'm not wan way or th' other. I don't care. What diff'rence does it make? I wudden't mind at all havin' a little soap an' wather, a broom an' a dusther applied to pollyticks. It wudden't do anny gr-reat harm if a man cudden't be illicted to office onless he kept his hair combed an' blacked his boots an' shaved his chin wanst a month. Annyhow, as Hogan says, I care not who casts th' votes iv me counthry so long as we can hold th' offices. An' there's on'y wan way to keep the women out iv office, an' that's to give thim a vote."

THE BACHELOR TAX

"This here pa-aper says," said Mr. Hennessy, "that they're goin' to put a tax on bachelors. That's r-right. Why shudden't there be a tax on bachelors? There's one on dogs."

"That's r-right," said Mr. Dooley. "An' they're goin' to make it five dollars a year. Th' dogs pay only two. It's quite a concession to us. They consider us more thin twice as vallyable, or annyhow more thin twice as dangerous as dogs. I suppose ye expect next year to see me throttin' around with a leather collar an' a brass tag on me neck. If me tax isn't paid th' bachelor wagon'll come over an' th' bachelor catcher'll lassoo me an' take me to th' pound an' I'll be kept there three days an' thin, if still unclaimed, I'll be dhrowned onless th' pound keeper takes a fancy to me. Ye'll niver see it, me boy. No, Sir. Us bachelors ar-re a sthrong body iv men polytickally, as well as handsome and brave. If ye thry to tax us we'll fight ye to th' end. If worst comes to worst we won't pay th' tax. Don't ye think f'r a minyit that light-footed heroes that have been eludin' onprincipled females all their lives won't be able to dodge a little thing like a five-dollar tax. There's no clumsy collector in th' wurruld that cud catch up with a man iv me age who has avoided the machinations iv th' fair f'r forty years an' remains unmarrid.

"An' why shud we be taxed? We're th' mainstay iv th' Constitution an' about all that remains iv liberty. If ye think th' highest jooty iv citizenship is to raise a fam'ly why don't ye give a vote to th' shad? Who puts out ye'er fire f'r ye, who supports th' Naytional Governmint be payin' most iv th' intarnal rivnoo jooties, who maintains th' schools ye sind ye'er ignorant little childher to, be payin' th' saloon licenses, who does th' fightin' f'r ye in th' wars but th' bachelors? Th' marrid men start all th' wars with loose talk whin they're on a spree. But whin war is declared they begin to think what a tur-rble thing 'twud be if they niver come home to their fireside an' their wife got marrid again an' all their grandchildher an' their great-grandchildher an' their widow an' th' man that marrid her an' his divoorced wife an' their rilitives, descindants, friends, an' acquaintances wud have to live on afther father was dead and gone with a large piece iv broken iron in his stomach or back, as th' case might be, but a pension come fr'm th' Governmint. So, th' day war is declared ye come over here an' stick a sthrange-lookin' weepin in me hand an' I close down me shop an' go out somewhere I niver was befure an' maybe lose me leg defindin' th' hearths iv me counthry, me that niver had a hearth iv me own to warm me toes by but th' oil stove in me bedroom. An' that's th' kind iv men ye'd be wantin' to tax like a pushcart or a cow. Onscrupulous villain!

"Whin ye tax th' bachelors ye tax valor. Whin ye tax th' bachelors ye tax beauty. Ye've got to admit that we're a much finer lookin' lot iv fellows thin th' marrid men. That's why we're bachelors. 'Tis with us as with th' ladies. A lady with an erratic face is sure to be marrid befure a Dhream iv Beauty. She starts to wurruk right away an' what Hogan calls th' doctrine iv av'rages is always with thim that starts early an' makes manny plays. But th' Dhream iv Beauty figures out that she can wait an' take her pick an' 'tis not ontil she is bumpin' thirty that she wakes up with a scream to th' peril iv her position an' runs out an' pulls a man down fr'm th' top iv a bus. Manny a plain but determined young woman have I seen happily marrid an' doin' th' cookin' f'r a large fam'ly whin her frind who'd had her pitcher in th' contest f'r th' most beautiful woman in Brighton Park was settin' behind th' blinds waitin' f'r some wan to take her buggy ridin'.

"So it is with us. A man with a face that looks as if some wan had thrown it at him in anger nearly always marries befure he is old enough to vote. He feels he has to an' he cultivates what Hogan calls th' graces. How often do ye hear about a fellow that he is very plain but has a beautiful nature. Ye bet he has. If he hadn't an' didn't always keep it in th' show-case where all th' wurruld cud see he'd be lynched be th' Society f'r Municipal Improvement. But 'tis diff'rent with us comely bachelors. Bein' very beautiful, we can afford to be haughty an' peevish. It makes us more inthrestin'. We kind iv look thim over with a gentle but supeeryor eye an' say to oursilves: 'Now, there's a nice, pretty atthractive girl. I hope she'll marry well.' By an' by whin th' roses fade fr'm our cheeks an' our eye is dimmed with age we bow to th' inivitable, run down th' flag iv defiance, an' ar-re yanked into th' multichood iv happy an' speechless marrid men that look like flashlight pitchers. Th' best-lookin' iv us niver get marrid at all.

"Yes, Sir, there's no doubt we do a good deal to beautify th' landscape. Whose pitchers ar-re those ye see in th' advertisemints iv th' tailorman? There's not a marrid man among thim. They're all bachelors. What does th' gents' furnishing man hang his finest neckties in th' front window f'r but to glisten with a livelier iris, as Hogan says, th' burnished bachelor? See th' lordly bachelor comin' down th' sthreet, with his shiny plug hat an' his white vest, th' dimon stud that he wint in debt f'r glistenin' in his shirt front, an' th' patent-leather shoes on his feet out-shinin' th' noonday sun.

"Thin we see th' marrid man with th' wrinkles in his coat an' his tie undher his ear an' his chin unshaven. He's walkin' in his gaiters in a way that shows his socks ar-re mostly darned. I niver wore a pair iv darned socks since I was a boy. Whin I make holes in me hosiery I throw thim away. 'Tis a fine idee iv th' ladies that men are onhappy because they have no wan to darn their socks an' put buttons on their shirts. Th' truth is that a man is not onhappy because his socks ar-re not darned but because they ar-re. An' as f'r buttons on his shirt, whin th' buttons comes off a bachelor's shirt he fires it out iv th' window. His rule about clothes is thurly scientific. Th' survival iv th' fit, d'ye mind. Th' others to th' discard. No marrid man dares to wear th' plumage iv a bachelor. If he did his wife wud suspict him. He lets her buy his cravats an' his seegars an' 'tis little diff'rence it makes to him which he smokes.

"'Twud be villanous to tax th' bachelors. Think iv th' moral side iv it. What's that? Ye needn't grin. I said moral. Yes, Sir. We're th' most onselfish people in th' wurruld. All th' throubles iv th' neighborhood ar-re my throubles an' my throubles ar-re me own. If ye shed a tear f'r anny person but wan ye lose ye'er latch-key, but havin' no wan in partiklar to sympathize with I'm supposed to sympathize with ivry wan. On th' conthry if ye have anny griefs ye can't bear ye dump thim on th' overburdened shoulders iv ye'er wife. But if I have anny griefs I must bear thim alone. If a bachelor complains iv his throubles people say: 'Oh, he's a gay dog. Sarves him right.' An' if he goes on complainin' he's liable to be in gr-reat peril. I wudden't dare to tell me woes to ye'er wife. If I