Mr. Dooley on the Education of the Young
“If ye had a boy wud ye sind him to colledge?” asked Mr. Hennessey.
“Well,” said Mr. Dooley, “at th’ age whin a boy is fit to be in colledge I wudden’t have him around th’ house.”
THE TROUBLED Mr. Hennessy had been telling Mr. Dooley about the difficulty of making a choice of schools for Packy Hennessy, who at the age of six was at the point where the family must decide his career.
“'Tis a big question,” said Mr. Dooley, “an’ wan that seems to be worryin’ th’ people more thin it used to whin ivry boy was designed f'r th’ priesthood, with a full undherstandin’ be his parents that th’ chances was in favor iv a brick yard. Nowadays they talk about th’ edycation iv th’ child befure they choose th’ name. 'Tis: “Th’ kid talks in his sleep. 'T's th’ fine lawyer he'll make.’ Or, ‘Did ye notice him admirin’ that photygraph? He'll be a gr-reat journalist.” Or, ‘Look at him fishin’ in Uncle Tim’s watch pocket. We must thrain him f'r a banker.’ Or, ‘I'm afraid he'll niver be sthrong enough to wurrk. He must go into th’ church.’ Befure he’s baptized too, d'ye mind. "Twill not be long befure th’ time comes whin th’ soggarth’ll christen th’ infant: ‘Judge Pathrick Aloysius Hinnissy, iv th’ Northern District iv Illinye,’ or ‘Profissor P. Aloysius Hinnissy, LL.D., S.T.D., P.G.N., iv th’ faculty iv Northre Dame.” Th’ innocent child in his cradle, wondherin’ what ails th’ mist iv him an’ where he got such funny lookin’ parents fr'm, has thim to blame that brought him into the wurruld if he dayvilops into a sicond story man befure he's twinty-wan an’ is took up be th’ polis. Why don’t you lade Packy down to th’ occylist an’ have him fitted with a pair iv eye-glasses? Why don’t ye put goloshes on him, give him a blue umbrelly an’ call him a doctor at wanst an’ be done with it?
“To my mind, Hinnissy, we're wastin’ too much time thinkin’ iv th’ future iv our young, an’ thryin’ to larn thim early what they oughtn’t to know till they’ve growed up. We sind th’ childher to school as if 'twas a summer garden where they go to be amused instead iv a pinitinchry where they're sint f'r th’ original sin. Whin I was a la-ad I was put at me ah-bee abs, th’ first day I set fut in th’ school behind th’ hedge an’ me head was sore inside an’ out befure I wint home. Now th’ first thing we larn th’ future Mark Hannas an’ Jawn D, Gateses iv our nayton is waltzin’, singin’, an’ cuttin’ pitchers out iv a book. We’d be much better teachin’ thim th’ sthrangle hold, f’r that’s what they need in life.
“I know what'll happen. Ye'll sind Packy to what th’ Germans call a Kindygarten, an’ ’tis a good thing f’r Germany, because all a German knows is what some wan tells him, and his grajation papers is a certyficate that he don’t need to think annymore. But we've inthrajooced it into this country, an’ whin I was down seein’ if I cud injooce Rafferty, th’ Janitor iv th’ Isaac Muggs Grammer School, f'r to vote f'r Riordan —an’ he’s goin’ to—I dhropped in on Cassidy’s daughter, Mary Ellen, an’ see her kindygartnin’. Th’ childher was settin’ ar-round on th’ flure an’ some was moldin’ dachshunds out iv mud an’ wipin’ their hands on their hair, an’ some was carvin’ figures iv a goat out iv paste-board an some was singin’ and some was sleepin’ an’ a few was dancin’ an’ wan la-ad was pullin’ another la-ad’s hair. ‘Why don’t ye take th’ coal shovel to that little barbaryn, Mary Ellen?’ says I. ‘We don’t believe in corporeal punishment,” says she. ‘School shud be made pleasant f'r th’ childher,’ she says. ‘Th’ child who’s hair is bein’ pulled is larnin’ patience,’ she says, ‘an’ the child that’s pullin’ the hair is discoverin’ th’ footility iv human endeavor,’ says she. ‘Well, oh, well,’ says I, ‘times has changed since I was a boy,” I says. ‘Put thim through their exercises,” says I. ‘Tommy,’ says I, ‘spell cat,’ I says. ‘Go to th’ divvle,’ says th’ cheerub. ‘Very smartly answered,’ says Mary Ellen. ‘Ye shud not ask thim to spell,’ she says. “They don’t larn that till they get to colledge,’ she says, ‘an’,’ she says, ‘sometimes not even thin,’ she says. ‘An’ what do they larn? says I. ‘Rompin’,’ she says, ‘an’ dancin’,’ she says, ‘an’ indepindance iv speech, an’ beauty songs, an’ sweet thoughts, an’ how to make home homelike," she says. ‘Well,’ says I, ‘I didn’t take anny iv thim things at colledge, so ye needn’t unblanket thim,’ I says. ‘I won’t put thim through anny exercise today,’ I says. ‘But whisper, Mary Ellen,’ says I, ‘don’t ye niver feel like bastin’ the seeraphims ?’ ‘Th’ teachin’s iv Freebull and Pitzotly is conthrary to that,’ she says. ‘But I'm goin’ to be married an’ lave th’ school on Choosdah, th’ twinty-sicond iv Janooary,’ she says, ‘an’ on Mondah, th’ twinty-first, I'm goin’ to ask a few iv th’ little darlin’s to th’ house an’,’ she says, ‘stew thim over a slow fire.’ she says. Mary Ellen is not a German, Hinnissy.
“Well, afther they have larned in school what they ar're licked f'r larnin’ in th’ back yard—that is squashin’ mud with their hands—they’re conducted up through a channel iv free an’ beautiful thought till they’re r-ready f'r colledge. Mamma packs a few doylies an’ tidies into son’s bag, an’ some silver to be used in case iv throuble with th’ landlord, an’ th’ la-ad throts off to th’ siminary. If he’s not sthrong enough to look f'r high honours as a middleweight pugilist he goes into th’ thought department. Th’ prisident takes him into a Turkish room, gives him a cigareet an’ says: ‘Me dear boy, what special branch iv larnin’ wud ye like to have studied f’r ye be our compitint profissors? We have a chair iv Beauty, an’ wan iv Puns an’ wan iv Pothry on th’ Changin’ Hues iv th’ Settin’ Sun, an’ wan on Platonic Love, an’ wan on Non-sense Rhymes an’ wan on Sweet Thoughts, an’ wan on How Green Grows th’ Grass, an’ wan on th’ Relation iv Ice to th’ Greek Idee iv God,’ he says. ‘This is all ye'll need to equip ye f'r th’ perfect life: onless,’ he says, ‘ye intind bein’ a dintist, in which case,’ he says, ‘we won’t think much iv ye, but we have a good school where ye can larn that disgraceful thrade,’ he says. ‘An’ th’ la-ad makes his choice, an’ ivry mornin’ whin he’s up in time he takes a whiff iv hasheesh an’ goes off to hear Profissor Maryanna tell him that ‘if th’ dates iv human knowledge must be rejicted as subjictive, how much more must they be subjected as rejictive if, as I think, we keep our thoughts fixed upon th’ inanity iv th’ finite in comparison with th’ onthinkable truth with th’ ondivided an’ inimaginable reality. Boys, ar-re ye with me?’ …”
“I don’t undherstand a wurrud iv what ye'r sayin’,” said Mr. Hennessy.
“No more do I,” said Mr. Dooley. “But I believe 'tis as Father Kelly says: ‘Childher shuddn’t be sint to school to larn, but to larn how to larn. I don’t care what ye larn thim so long as 'tis onpleasant to thim.’ ‘Tis thrainin’ they need, Hinnissy. That’s all. I niver cud make use iv what I larned in colledge about thrigojoomethry an'—an’—grammar an’ th welts I got on th’ skull fr'm th’ schoolmasther’s cane I have niver been able to turn to any account in th’ business, but ’twas th’ bein’ there an’ havin’ to get things to heart without askin’ th’ meanin’ iv thim an’ goin’ to school cold an’ comin’ home hungry, that made th’ man iv me ye see befure ye.”
“That’s why th’ good woman’s throubled about Packy,” said Hennessy.
“Go home,” said Mr. Dooley.
This item 12782 digitally provided courtesy of CatholicCulture.org
