Well, sir," said Mr. Dooley, " I see that the prohy­bitionists are gettin' a sthrangle hold on me old friend an' bosom companion, King Alcohol, now more gin'rally known as th' Demon Rum. An' where d'ye think they 're sthrongest? Ye'll niver believe it, but it's down South. Yes, sir, in th' sunny Southland, that I wanst thought was sunny partly because iv th' efforts iv Nature an' partly because iv th' effects iv booze, 'tis as hard to get a dhrink now as it wanst was not to get wan.

"All me idees are upset. I've always wanted to go down South some day an' loaf in that beauchous land, among th' palm an' palmettoes, th' turpentine trees, th' sweet potatoes, an' th' yellow janders, consumin' th' flagrant mint julep an' watchin' th' happy darky pluckin' th' cotton fr'm th' vine be day an' be night out undher th' moonlight playin' his banjo or racin' with th' bloodhounds. Me idee iv hospitality was Southren hospitality, an' me idee iv Southren hospitality was that a Southrengintleman met ye at th' thrain with a noggm' iv dhrink in th' crook iv his thumb an' if ye didn't dhrink he shot ye.

The New Kentucky Hospitality

"But I was all wrong, d'ye mind. Th' South that used to be thirsty has gone dhry. Now, whin aKentucky gintleman meets ye at th' thrain, if ye're a dhrinkin' man 'tis not to his home he invites ye, but to th' town jail. He no longer allures ye with th' cup that cheers an' inebyrates ye to­night an' biteth like an asp an' stingeth like an adder to­morrah mornin'. No, sir. Th' best ye can get in public is a small pan iv Jamaica ginger or exthract iv vanilla in th' corner dhrug store. In th' hospitable mansions iv th' South, with their wide porticos, their lofty pillars an' their overhanging eaves an' morgedges, where wanst th' tired traveller heard on approachin' a sound like th' ringin' of sleigh bells, which showed that th' colonel had seen him comin' an' was hurlin' together a whisky punch, he can on'y get a dhrink be crawlin' behind th' colonel down into th' coal cellar, while Ephraim, th' old fam'ly servant that was employed last week at th' slave market or imployment agency, watches f'r th' polis. An' poor Sambo or Epaminondas Beecher Roosevelt, as th' case may be, no longer sings th' sintimintal plantation ballad iv 'Give me me gin,' but 'Away away th' bowl . '

King Alcohol and His Subjects

"Old King Alcohol is dethroned down South. He ain't put out altogether, mind ye. He's like th' Jook iv Orleens in Paris. Some iv th' old fam'lies receive him quietly in their homes an' bow lower to him than they iver did whin he was on th' throne. But he's lost most iv his authorities. Thousands that wanst fell on their noses befure him now refuse to recognize him in public. Whin he goes amongst th' popylace, he goes, as Hogan says, incognito, disguised as a cure f'r fever an' ague, an' those that know who he is on'y give a wink. He's not supposed to be there, but 'twud be too much throuble to fire him out entirely, so he's allowed to hang around, payin' no taxes an' supported be a few faithful adherents.

"'Tis th' same with him as with King Looey. Says wan man: ' I don't care how much King Looey or King Alcohol hurts ye, he 's good f'r me. Hooray f'r King Loocahol.' Says another: 'I don't care how good he is f'r ye, he's bad f'r me. Death to th' King.' And th' end iv it is that he's deprived iv his throne but niver has his head cut off; he sneaks around an' does th' best he can, an' is loved be those that he 's been useful to, an' hated be those that can get along better without him, an' 1oved wan time an' hated anothor be those he harms most."

A man that looks on a king as a roof over his head an' a flure undher his feet will always be in favor iv kings. King Alcohol an' King Edward make sorr.e people better thin their neighbors. They are both stimulating to Rothschild. A little alcohol an' a little Edward keep him goin'. Thin come a lot iv people that King Edward or King Alcohol do nawthin' at all f'r, an' whin they find it out they want to abolish him. An' afther thim are a great throng that are pizened be anny kind iv a king an' they can't get away fr'm him. At night they're wild with lilety that makes thim think they're better thin they ever thought they were. Th' king has admitted thim to a private aujience an' has let thim tell what they think about thimsilves. ' Rise, Sl William Hoskins,' says he, 'if ye can,' ht says, an' he hits thim over th' back iv th' head with a soord or a bottle. An' th' next mornin' whin they do arise th' title has disappeared an' all they have left to remindthim iv it is th' pain in th' back iv th' head where th' knighting was done.

Popular Drinks in Prohibition States

"It's cured me iv me desire to go down South. Hincefoorth, Hinnissy, I will spend me winters in' th' North, as usual. Not that I need dhrink mesilf as a part iv hospitality. I can dhrink an' I can let it aloneat different times. But many people think that th' on'y diff'rence between hospitality an' passin' a cold potato out iv th' back dure is a dhrink. F'r mesilf I am more happy settin' down to an innocent meal with nawthin' but water than I wud be at a table with lashings iv dhrink-not that night, but th' day afther. I won't go South, not because I will suffer mesilf, but I don't want to see th' sufferings iv others.

"Th' victim iv th' dhrink habit whin he can't get a dhrink is a dhreadful sight to me. Ye go down South expictin' to see th' colonel an' hear him warm up over a mint julep an' tell ye about th' battle iv Shiloh, which he fought so bravely thin but more bravely iver since. Ye go up to th' old house on th' plantation; ye notice an air iv desolation about th' place. There are weeds m th' mint bed. Th' colonel leads ye into th' house an' calls to th' faithful old retainer: 'Rastus, ye black rascal, bring Colonel Hinnissy a glass an' trot out th' decanter iv Munson's Cure f'r Epilepsy. Don't be afraid, Colonel. There isn't a barrel iv headache in a dhrop iv it. Look at it. See how th' sun shines through th' high wines, see th' beads iv fusel oil glistening like amethysts, notice how the crystal morphine clings to th' sides iv th' glass. Ye won't get anny such stuff as that in th' North. I get it especially fr'm th' distiller in Indianapolis, Injyanny. Here's ye 'r health, Colonel. Rastus, stand by with th' fire hose to put th' Colonel out.' I

don't want to be a victim iv anny kind iv dhrink, but th' wan kind I'm partic'l'ry afraid iv dyin' iv, is th' kind that is sold in prohybition states. I wanst knew a man that had lived f'r twinty years in Ioway an' escaped arrest undher th' Supreme Court decision that he was entitled to an original package. Th' packages that he got were th' most original I iver heerd iv. Whin he come back to Chicago he cudden't find a cocktail that suited him outside iv a dhrug store. Whin I made wan f'r him he asked me if I hadn't left out th' rough on rats.

A Colonel's Untiimely End

"Yes, sir, it's goin' to wurruk a gr­reat change in th' South. I expect to read that some frind iv mine in that impeeryal domain, afther a jovyal meeting in a paint store, where he an' his companyons imbibed . modhrately iv a can iv gasolene, engaged in his civic duty as a member iv a vigilance comity, an' approachin' too near th' fire, passed away beloved be all. Har'ly a fam'ly in th' neighborhood but what has lost a member through th' colonel's untimely departure.

"Why, innissy, I read th' other day iv a most unfortunate occurrence down in Texas. A perfectly respectable an' innocent man, of good connections, while attemptin' to dhraw a revolver to plug an inimy was hastily shot down be th' rangers, who thought he was pullin' a pocket flask. Is no man's life safe against th' acts iv irresponsible officers iv th' law ?

The Ominous Size of Wave

"An' I tell ye something, Hinnissy, it ain't goin' to be very long before this here wave iv prohybition comes up here an' deluges ye an' me. Anny day ye may look to see boots an' shoes, or more prob'bly books, in th' window where ye now see th' stately rows iv bottles that ye think are filled with tempting dhrink but raaly have nawthin' in thim but th' wather I filled thim with th' year afther th' big fire. I'm a merchant, I am, an I'll sell something. I was cut out be nature to sell people things that they first took because they made thim feel supeeryor to other people an' that later became a necessity to thim. Whin I bought this thing I vear in me shirt front, that no jooler or other robber wud take f'r a dimon pin, I got it because it raised me up a notch above me fellow men. But afther wearin' it a little while I cud no more do without it thin without me undhershirt, that no wan iver sees onless they peek up me arm. So it is with nearly all th' things that people buy, fr'm neckties to autymobills, includin' dhrink. If I can't sell booze I'll sell false hair, I'll sell cuff­buttons, I'll sell hair ile, I'll sell patent­leather shoes, I'll sell pianos. I'll sell joolry, I'll sell brown­stone houses, fast horses, or nommynations to office. I deal in pride. I will sell annything except th' necessities iv life. If I own anny iv thim I'll put thim in a basket on th' counter an' say:

'Take wan.'

A Secret of theTrade

"Do I think 'twill come? Faith, I wudden't wondher. I see what Hogan calls portints iv th' times. Th' day was whin ivry wan that wanted a pollytickal job asked th' privilege iv hangin' a litthygraft iv himsilf in me window. I let thim do it because it hurt thim with many iv me customers, who said: ' I'll niver vote f'r that robber.' But, nowadays, be Hivens, no wan wants his pitcher hung in a saloon. They're thryin' to get thim pasted up in th' churches. They're gettin' on to us. I'll tell ye a secret iv th' thrade. I'd rather have th' Father Macchew Society behind me thin th' entire saloon vote.

What Drink Does for a Man

"I wudden't mind if prohybition did b r e a k through. In his heart th' thruest prohybitionist is a saloonkeeper. B e t t h e r t h i n annywan else he k n o w s t h a t what's his meat is everybody else's pizen. Havin' l o n g assocyated with th' dhrinkin' classes, I think less iv thim more an' more ivry year. Th' dhrink makes thim too fond iv thimsilves. As me frind Mulrooney th' printer says, th' dhrink knocks th' dot off their little i an' they think they're upper case. A man comes in here whin I'm about ready to pull down th' blinds, leans on th' cheese, an' sings: 'My bonnie lies over th' ocean,' thin says: ' What's that ? ' whin I suggist that he go home, an' fin'lly ends up be weeping over his throubles. I know what's th' matter with him. He's thinkin' about himself too much. I know that his voice sounds like suds escapin' fr'm th' kitchen sink, an' I can lick him in a minyit with an' ice­pick, an' I am laughin' mesilf sick over his fam'ly throubles, but he doesn't think so. Divvle th' bit. He's got himsilf painted like a combynation iv Melba, Jeffreys an' th'Two Orphans, an' annybody that don t believe he's right is lookin' f'r throuble. Faith, if anny prohybitionist thinks 'tis pleasant presidin' over this here Palace iv Rum he's welcome to th' job. If I was an insanity expert, instead iv bein' on th' level as I am, I'd commit half me patients to an asylum. "

"But can ye iver enforce prohybition?" asked Mr. Hennessy."

Well," said Mr. Dooley, " Father Kelly says th' best they've done so far is to make drink wrong to take, hard to get, an' turr'ble bad whin ye get it."

The following poem appeared on page 604 after the pieced by Dunne.

THE CRY OF THE WOMAN

BY ELIZABETH GRAEME BARBOUR

Man's work is mine, tho' woman born;
My hurried way in crowded mart
Is trod unswervingly each morn;
I live a thing apart,
I bear a hungry heart.

Man's love and babe's,
life hath denied;
No leisure e'en to give a crust
Is mine, swept onward with the tide
Of those enslaved by lust
Of gold, or load unjust.

I would not vie with men for gain,
Nor in the sun of ease would bask;

I--who man's burden bear with pain--
I want my woman's task.
Give this, O Lord, I ask!