"Has Andrew Carnaygie given ye a libry yet?" asked Mr. Dooley.
"Not that I know iv," said Mr. Hennessy.
"He will," said Mr. Dooley. "Ye'll not escape him. Befure he dies he hopes to crowd a libry on ivry man, woman, an' child in th' country. He's given thim to cities, towns, villages, an' whistlin' stations. They're tearin' down gas-houses an' poor-houses to put up libries. Befure another year, ivry house in Pittsburg that ain't a blast-furnace will be a Carnaygie libry. In some places all th' buildin's is libries. If ye write him f'r an autygraft he sinds ye a library."
"Does he give th' books that go with it?" aksed Mr. Hennessy.
"Books?" said Mr. Dooley. "What ar're ye talkin' about? D'ye know what a libry is? I suppose ye think it's a place where a man can go, haul down wan iv his fav'rite authors fr'm th' shelf, an' take a nap in it. That's not a Carnaygie libry. A Carnaygie libry is a large, brown-stone, impenethrible buildin' with the' name iv th' maker blown on the' dure. Libry, fr'm th' Greek wurruds, libus, a book, an' ary, sildom, -sildom a book. A Carnaygie libry is archytechoor, not lithrachoor."
And still later in the sketch:
" All th' same, I like Andrew Carnaygie. Him an' me ar're agreed on that point. I like him because he ain't shamed to give publicly. Ye don't find him puttin' on false whiskers an' turnin' up his coat-collar whin he goes out to be benivolent. No, sir. Ivry time he dhrops a dollar it makes a noise like a wather fallin' down-stairs with a tray iv dishes."