Editor's note: Last week, after a lede paragraph in this column, somebody asked: Who is Mr. Dooley? Answer: One of the nation's best political commentators from the turn of the century. The last century. Although it's been nearly 100 years since he published anything new, we asked Mr. Finley Peter Dunne's fictional barkeep to awaken. For he's had some opinions about tariffs for a while now, since a president named Roosevelt--the first one--was in office. And his thoughts might need another hearing today. Some of the below comes from "The Tariff" from Mr. Dooley Says.
Well, sir, 'tis a gr-r-rand wurrk thim sinators an' congressmen are doin' in Washington. Me heart bleeds for the poor fellows, arguin' the prisident over th' tariff, tryin' to get it to the right weight class for fightin'. But th' tariff been a good frind to some iv them boys, and they don wan to be rough with it. Whinever they rub too hard an' the tariff start to groan and complain, one of them congressmen say, "Go a little easier there, boys, he's very tender in some iv thim schedules!"
I bin asleep for a bit now, but I hear another brash prisident, even brasher thin Prisident Tiddy, is talkin' tariffs agin. Good fer him! Like I all-ways say, trust ever'body, but always cut the cards.
The papers say . . . . The papers? Oh, yes, the papers are still aroun'. As I once said, "Ye can get anny kind iv information ye want to in ye'er fav'rite newspaper about yourself or annywan else. What the Czar whispered to the Imp'ror Willum whin they were alone, how to make a silk hat out iv a wire matthress, how to settle th' coal strike, who to marry, how to get on with ye'er wife whin ye're married, what to feed the babies, what doctor to call whin ye've fed thim as directed--all iv that ye'll find in th' papers."
The papers say Prisident Tump is imposin' another tariff on the Chineeze goods, this a-top of all the others he's done imposed. Another tin percent! Is that tin percent on top of the fifthteen and twenty? Maybe so. Higher it goes, ivery time the news comes out in the mornings! The prisident is lookin' after our inthrests, just as Prisident Tiddy did. The papers have spilt a lot iv ink on this tariff fight. It wuud make for good piece iv summer lithrachoor, full of action an' romance.
I remember thinking about tariffs so long ago: "It gives ye some idea iv the kind iv gloryous governmint we're livin' under, to see our fair Columbia puttin' her brave young arms out an' defindin' the products iv our soil fr'm steel rails to porous plasthers, hooks an' eyes, artyficial horse hair an' bone casings, which comes undher th'e head iv clothin' an' I suppose is a polite name f'r pantaloons." The Chineeze goin' to rytaliate. They play duurty.
Iv course, low people iv high money, like Hinnissy, goin' to kick b'cause it's goin' to cost thim more to indulge their tastes--like for boat motors and refrigerators and mowers and light bulbs. He don't raylize that he can have all he wants, he jus' needs to settle. On the udder side of things, the Chineeze slapped tariffs on soybeans and pork and a host iv veggitables. But that jus' huurts farmers.
Ye'd think with the papers so upshet, that ivrything is taxed. It ain't so. Tis an insult, or as the prisident says, fake news. Look at the free list. Pratically iverything nicissery to existence comes in free. Like curling stones. No more will ladies comin' into this counthry have to conceal curling stones in their stockings to avoid customs. Teeth are free of jooty, too! Remember the bad days, when guvinment had to send profissyonal humorists down to the docks to see if anybody was smugglin' teeth? No, sir, these days teeth are free. Sea moss is free again, so now we can apprecyate the opportunety to stir some into our tea. Cannary bur-rd seed is free, too. Thousands of cannary bur-rds sang a better song las' night.
Leeches, turtles, teeth, curling stones, all still free iv jooty. Our prisident is an ardint free trader. 'Sides, only the furriner pays these taxes. Billy Bryan wuud understan'.
The sinators don't like it in Congress. But the prisident does. An' if sinators know what's good for thim, they'll manetane a dignified silance. The wons up for re-lection, anyways. Get on Prisident Tump's bad side, and yoo'll find yooself a foorth-class postman.
Ain't politics grand? It ain't beanbag.
'Tis a fine sport if ye don't care f'r checkers . . . .
Editorial on 09/23/2018