float in it is afther he's dead. A man throws a horseshoe into it an'
th' horseshoe sinks. This makes him cross an' he builds a boat iv th'
same mateeryal as a millyon horseshoes, loads it up with machinery,
pushes it out on th' billows an' goes larkin' acrost thim as aisy as ye
plaze. If he didn't go over on a large steel skyscraper he'd take a dure
off its hinges an' go on that.

"All ye have to do is to tell him there's land on th' other side iv th'
ragin' flood an' he'll say: 'All right, I'll take a look at it.' Ye talk
about th' majesty iv th' ocean but what about th' majesty iv this here
little sixty-eight be eighteen inches bump iv self-reliance that treats
it like th' dirt undher his feet? It's a wondher to me that th' ocean
don't get tired iv growlin' an' roarin' at th' race iv men. They don't
pay anny heed to it's hollering. Whin it behaves itsilf they praise it
as though it was a good dog. 'How lovely our ocean looks undher our
moon.' Whin it rises in its wrath they show their contimpt f'r it be
bein' sea-sick into it. But no matther how it behaves they niver quit
usin' its face f'r a right iv way. They'll niver subjoo it but it niver
bates thim. There niver was a time in th' history iv little man's
sthruggle with th' vasty deep that he didn't deserve a decision on
points."

"Well, it's all very well, but f'r me th' dhry land," said Mr. Hennessy.
"Will ye iver cross th' ocean again?"

"Not," said Mr. Dooley, "till they asphalt it an' run th' boats on
throlleys."