The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1872-04-03
THE PR ESS.
WEDNESDAY, MORNING, APRIL 8, '7s
An Eccentric Musician.

having piece of music arranged for various
voices, on the occasion of school celebration
wrote to us in regard to it, requesting our
aid in the matter. Meeting a professional
musician, and asking him where such musi-
cal work could be done, he gave us the ad-
dress of person, remarking: ''The old gen.
| tleman who can arrange your music for you
is rather peculiar person. He is wonder
fully learned, has talents beyond that Of an
| ordinary copyist, only he is little queer"
Without losing moment we sought the
address, the clue to which was passably tan
gled. We knocked at the door, which was
opened in moment by a singularly pleasant
looking old man of fully seventy. Our busi-
ness having been briefly stated, we were re-
| quested to enter, and one of the two chairs
IN the room was placed at our disposal. The
inventory of the room was accomplished at a
glance. There were piano, a bed, a table,
two engrayings of Beethoven and Mozart,
pot of geranium, violin case on the floor.
and on the mantle piece coffee pot Ina
tiny crate a small fire was smoldering, and
bef,re it slumbered dog. Everything was
| scrupulously neat, indicative ofdecorous pow
erty, redeemed by a few stray lights of re-
| fined taste.
''You wish then, sir,' said the old gentle
man, with the slightest possible German ac-
cent, TO have some music arranged Please
state to me the occasion of this music. /
have good stock of patriotic, national and
conyiyial music; likewise poetry, with very
| good music adapted to the circumstances /
charge nothing for the verses; they are
thrown in. - .a 49,
THANK you," We replied. Both the mu-
sic and the words have been decided on; all
| that is wanted is that YOU should make a solo
| or so, and then a chorus. Here is the score -
and we handed him the roll of music. Just
then there came heavy thud from above
| InaI must DC very annoying to you" We
said, involuntarily.
| 20, my circus friends. 1t was so at first.
but see my old dog, there, even does not mind
II now That is the way they make their
bread. They are exceedingly polite and hon
est people. Sometimes am too i'll to 90 out,
and they attend to my little purchases. There
| Is little fellow, mere baby, the perfect en-
Dodlment OF grace; he keeps me company
sometimes; 1t amuses me to see him play
with my little dog. All the noise they make
Is nothing IKE the discordant sounds l hear
nom below--a perfect cacouhany of bad notes.
Even my poor dog howls at it. Here, FL
nette, show this gentleman what you know
| about music" The dog came to his master.
"DO you like Mozart ?' he said. The dog
jumped up and gave quick bark Sand
Beethoven Thedog gave way to even great
what about Wagner?' The dog complacently
wagged his tail. mot quite accustomed to
him yet, and too old to appreciate the music
OF the future. But what about Verdi the
grand Italian maestro?" Finette simply Law
down and refused to give any token Of ap-
plause. 'And Offenbach?'' Finette rolled
over and gave a low howl indicative of pain.
1 mill Ios,lro Of
old gentleman, producing heavy pair of sill
yer spectacles, and placing them ON his nose,
after opening the piano. He struck two or
| three chords with an assured and distinct
touch, then seemed rather absorbed with the
| words than with the music. Then, pausing
for moment, he said very deliberately:
These are very, very bad verses. Did you
make them?'
There was a bad kind of bluntness about
him, joined to apparently so much conyic-
ton, that we felt rather glad we were not
| poetical.
'.No." we replied, ''though your judgment
may be trife severe"
mo. am always right. The words are
wretched for singing. Verses that cannot be
sung are mostly shocking things. You will
excuse me but if the god of poetry had big
ruler he would rap the person who made
these verses over the fingers. The music is
good, quite good, far too good for the words.
1t will be like miserable rider astride a no.
BILE steed. They may reach Parnassus, but
maybe the horses knees will be broken
What bad poetry" Evidently the copyist
was getting excited. "You will want a sim
gle voice-a soprano, next, chorus-is it for
men or women? For both you say? Young
people? You say yes? Then they will
screech. The god of music says no voices are
good until they are mature, no more than
green apples are good to eat There will be
| mir Tt
will cost SIS. You will pay me S5 now and
the rest when 1t is finished.''
Willingly" we said, placing the amount
on the piano. ''Try and make it simple and
imposing"
"simple and imposingl Why, my friend,
those two words describe the acme of art.
Those men," he pointed to his engravings,
Beethoven and Mozart, there the little dog
jumped and barked), alone could do that.
Stop-one other man besides" Here he
commenced playing with exceeding skill
grand harmony. AS he played, his words
came too like recitative, he said, 81 heard
this music once in a beautiful garden. Fount-
aims were splashing, the setting sun was shin
ing through the trees, the roses were send
ing forth their last perfumes, and the night
ingales were singing. Grand people were
walking up and down the grassy lawns Sud-
denly an orchestra hidden in a grove greeted
real prince and his bride. They had only
|
ofjoy in their eyes, and had tears in mine,
too. They asked, "who made this delicious
musicT' Then little man with great big
eyes and pale face came forward and bowed,
and says: ''It is my congratulations, the
heartfelt wishes of your devoted cdpel meis-
ter" sit was Webre." Here he suddenly
paused in the middle of a musical sentence,
and hastily closed the piano.
"Yoar music is admirable. Do yon not
compose @ we asked.
.a Compose! 1t Is too late All do is to ex-
ist in the "reminiscences of those who have
gone before me. live by copying music.
Sometimes get music to arrange. People,
amateurs, teachers come here with their COM
positions. Young lady in Madison avenue
think she make waltz. Music teacher say
splendid, what geniusp We must arrange
that-all the other young ladies will be jeal-
Gus. That music teacher come to me straight.
1 take young lady's little piece of butter and
spread it over ever so much bread. sometimes
1 hardly know it myself. / suppose ! do the
same as drawing master with pupils sketch
es. But business is very dull, so bad that I
can hardly live by it, l am getting too DID,"
| We ventared TO say that perhaps he might
find occupation in arranging band music.
Eyes," he replied, II can still make good
military music-that Is better than it used to
be in New York sometimes, though even now
my airs are played. The German authorities
were right when they passed a law in Saxony
that was years ago. in the good old times
when If band or an organ played false they
put them in jail for it. / have had some Sc
we're trials. There came to me once great
big man. He had a black monstache; it was
| dyed; he wore green crayat, and MANY little
diamonds in his shirt. He said to me, draw
ing piece of music from his pocket, sold
gent" THAT was rude) ''old gent, YOU take
this and fix it for me-" take the music and
look at it. What do YOU think oft? IL was
that divine inspiration of Gluek's, where Or
pheus heralds the loss of Eurydice, which has
drawn more tears from human eyes than any
music ever composed. wondered how a
man with green cravat could know anything
about such music ''What do you want done
with this; do you want it transposed?
''Transposed be blOwed," said the man, ''you
just fix it for two banjos cornet, an accor-
deon, and o triangle. FH attend to the
bones. The words are to be on the refrain of
Black Sail of Tennessee, with the chorus of
.And de ole black Niger he chop at de stump,
And ebery time he hit him it went che bump"
'fSir," continued the excited musician, 81
raised myseifup. looked scorn at the man.
Though was most starving, / could not de-
grade my art. looked that man down, /
had eaten nothing but bread that week. but L
was willing to starve. Leave my roomp /
say, and he go away and say was crazy. /
am not superstious, but l think of the stran-
ger and Mozart, and his last requiem, and
would rather die than do such sacrilegous
thing '"--N Y. Times.