The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1916-1920, 1919-08-31
By HARRY ESTY DOUNcE.

ducts a column OF pedagogy In a dally
paper, has complained of Mr.. Dooley as
"the most conspicuous Stacker" of the
war.
1 syrnpathized for a moment with the
complaint Like this scion of an illus
trious Massachusetts family, l recalled
that during our last previous war, the
tinpot affair with Spain, Theodore Roos'
welt himself was scarcely more robust and
effective than our Milesian friend who
dhruv the Spaniards from out :he tan
yards. Weekly that spring and summer
Mr.. Dooley shot pure horse sense at the
midriff of an Administration that needed
it. His shots got home. He was privily
read aloud in the Cabinet meetings. Even
Alger, of whom he made sawdust, IS said
to have laughed. Laugh as they might,
however, the bigwigs listened; listened -
a critic who, sentence for sentence, had
far more to say than any solemn oracl,
in the party out of power.
Max AYERS that those to whom Whistler
addressed his stingtailed letters did really
have their souls required of them. The
statesmen whom Mr.. Dooley shillelahed
had no such preposterous requirement
made upon them; and then there never
was sting in-his stuff, although frequently
there was honest indignation. But they
had brass taeks required of them in the
hearing of all the world.
If two sincere and inspired writers
with wide popular publics lived out OF
whom the great war should have brought
good copy as it went along, would you
not have said that they were Kiphng and
Mr.. Dooley7 Where was Dooley when
the light went out-where, for example,
when it boarded the George Washington
for Europef
Surely be did not consider our war
Cabinet superior to that other one! In
the names of patriotism and military ex-
pediency, lot of ratuitous hush hush was
battened down upon the country, and the
ordinary critic was in jeopardy. Not Mr..
Dooley. He could have spoken his mind;
and his mind (which is as good as the
next InlHQ, HHOtfcE Ilatt may Dc' was
the ideal corrective for a dozen unfortu-
nate things. We needed him. Inciden-
tally, he would have been fun. We needed
that.
Now, having just finished his new book,
which, so far as it is current-topical, stops
.-.La-o =. 101E tb;nI lypouy xpbaro
Mr.. Dooley was. 1 think he was
tired to the pit Of the soul-of
being Mr.. Dooley. observe that lie has
made himself anonymous. Open secrets,
open to readers of every language, in
Guiding the Scandinavian, are perfectly
safe with me; but as the name of Mr..
Dooley's now nameless creator is really all
/ know of him, conjecture condition
of dooleysthenia on the general principle
that any humorous brain child whom a
man must keep rebegetting once a week
will sooner or later become to him bug
bear, a Frankenstein monster, an alba
tross hung to the neck-or whatever stale
figure you fancy.
Despite the best Will IN the world,
believe, and despite every possible entiee-
ment of rich material, Mr.. Dooley was
doolied out when the hour came, and could
no more, and the man behind him had to
seek direct and conventional expression.
How good that expression can be, those
who recall The Interpreters House In
magazine will realize. At the same time,
in company with some millions, 1 mourn
our loss, and would keen at the wake if
l had a little potcheen and vocal technic.
And ] was glad to have the new book,
somewhat belated and dated though it is.
TO call it bad Dooley would be incor-
rect No Dooley is absolutely bal, an ,
the worst to be said of this batch is that
the numbers have lost a good deal since
the events upon which they were written.
7 ON eDaaEip0 now of coIrSp ahout the