The Portland daily press., 1875-08-10
A Musical VisitOr.

The Burlington Hawkeye is alone RESPONSE
BILE for this: He was quiet, Indifferent, even
bashful young man, and although yester-
day afternoon was hot, and we were busy ss
book agent trying to get Into heaven, his
respectful, apologetic manner disarmed our
wrath, and drove the storm cloud that was
gathering on our alabaster brow. We paused
right in the midst of a deathless sentiments
and cooled the glow of genius that was upon
us 1--WE were writing puff for Mrs. Soothline's
Winding Syrup) and asked the young man
in and begged him to sit down. He obeyed.
and planted the end of his backbone on the
extreme edge OF chair that we felt nervous
lest the scanty grip he had or his seat should
lose It's hold and dash him prostrats to the
mating We saw by the way he came into
the room that he had never entered an edito-
rial sanctum before, because he knocked at
the door and took off his hat when he came
in, aud said, Good afternoon, sir" instead
of kicking the door open, splitting on the stove,
and yelling, ''Hello, stealin' editorials, hayT
at the top of his lungs. We mentally blessed
the young man for his innocence, and even re-
laxed from our professional dignity sufficiently
to assure him that it was extremely warm, an
act Of gracious condeseension our part which
overwhelmed the young man with grateful con-
fusion, and he blushed and stammered out
that lit was, indeed, very chilly, ur-haw-yes,
yes quite SO, thank YOU" And we frowned
him into silence, or he would be ploddtng
through the mazes of that snarl yet.
Then we glanced ominously at q roll of
manuscript under his arm, and in those bland,
patronizng tones we are prone to assume
with aspiring young authors, prior to tearing
out their lungs with nail grab, and rending
their quivering bodies limb from limb, we
asked inquiringly what We could do for him,
and steaithily reached for the nail grab.
He said, while his ltender face was suffussd
with bushes, that he had nothing that we
could publish-we pushed the nail grab back
to its place-but he had come to ask our ad-
vice. He was musician; vocalist, and in
his humble way composer. He had written
a ballad, only simple little thing, but before
sending it to the music house for publication he
thought he would let us hear it, as We were SO
accustomed to dramatic and musical criticism,
and then we would frankly tell him our opin-
ion of his Abilities and what we thought of his
prospects for the lyric stage. ~
We were charmed. The idea OF having .
local musical pr otege to bolster mp, and puff,
and write, and lie about, made us break ous
with smiles like fat baby with prickly heat.
We promised to deal canddly with him and
asked if he had his music with him.
Yes, he had; he thought that perhaps-ifi il
wasn't inconvenient-that is, if-if-
Oh yes, we said, we would be delighted.
We would lock the door so that no one would
disturb us. and he could sing us few bars,o q
stanza or two, just to give us an idea of his
anu Styio III COupUSitlOu, III e4CtlouCe
Then the timid young man took his position
in the farther corner of the room and began to
unroll his manuscript. r4
"You will understand" hei said apologeti-
cally. that although the music is quite COM
plete and arranged, yet the words need q little
final polishing and revision. You see," he ex-
planned, l write poetry a little, and have writ
the words as we'll as the music to this, my
maiden ballad. 1 am aware that it is far
from perfect, and in your criticism, please re-
member that it is my first effort"
We smiled enoopragingly, and he put his lett
hand in the breast OF his vest, held his music
at arms length in his right hand, laid his head
a little to one side and began in q very altitu-
dinous voice
"Hemr' he said, in. some confusion, 'that
was a little high"
He was right. 1t was about one hundred
and twenty degrees In the shade. we are no
Judge of the human voice, else. lie started
again: So. :.. n
yes, now L have 1T.
And away be went in rich some kind of a
tone
"Darling, am growing oh-holdl
Silv"-
And then we rose up and made a sortie for
that young man en- nlQsSe We twined our
brawny hands in his golden locks and dragged
him down to the press room, and had the boys
run him through the double-cylmd press till
they had worked off an edition of 5000 of him
and then he dashed his CORY csrcsss-a fiat
tened, chaotic aggregation OF rags and ruin
out ON the sidewalk, where the needless feet OF
busy men would trample it into the dust OF tne
earth. Send US another original vocalist ana
composer.