Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1888-03-22
Mrs. Brindle Learns the Guitar

lnO enJOynenI OF nome, anu WHICH
makes q man feel mt peace with the
world and himself rs the strains of soft
and soul-inspiring music. Therefore.
have purchased guitar for you and
intend to teach you how to accompany
me-"
%, you dear man. how charming!
Where is the er--er- what do you call
ftp"
Mrs Brindle, l remember to have
said distinctly a guitar. Guitar,
g-u-i-t-a-r, guitar. Now do you know
what / sa.dP
And MIR. Br ndle's face began to
wrinkle like the crust on an apple
pie.
"O!,' said Mrs Brindlc. "and did you
bring u plush covered stool embroid-
cred with cat-tails to put under it?"
''Mrs. Brindle. did nothing of the
kind" Mr.. BIS face turned deep
crimson. II simply brought guitar
home with me. What do YOU suppose
a guitar is, anyway? Here it is; look
at it, How in the name of gentle
James are YOU going to geta stool un-
der itP Just you show me how, that's
all. " "And can play on it without
looking at it as you do the liddIe?'
''AIrs. Brindle. if l had your musical
knowledge and brass band around NV
hat I'd set up for conservatory of
music" What shall | play on it,
dear?' asked Mrs. Brndle, as she
picked it up. lad it across her lap and
began to strum on it with all her ten
fingers as though il were panN
',Play cards on it, Mrs. BrinGie, play
checkers. any goshdinged thing you
can," howled Mr.. b. as he kicked the
cat out of the window. "Wait a min
ute, will you? Wait till get my fiddle.
can't you? Put down that guitar.
Can't you tell Il guitar from hand Or
gan? Waitll l get the crank and turn
it for You and then, by the Jumping
Jehosophal, OIL can play. If l knew
as much about guitar as you do. I'd
tie strings across my mouth and pass
as n band of Spanish students. All
en-" Mr.. b. grew black in the face.
He reached for his violin and opened a
music book ut the scale of g natural.
'Look here now. Can you read
notesP"
20. yes, dear. read four or five
that dropped out of your pocket on the
floor last night. One of them was
signed"
40, you did. did youp Well, madam,
I'll just thank You to read no more of
my private papers. Now. here, tell me
If you know what this MEANS" point
ing to 6-8 musical character.
"Um er-let me seo'-and up went
her finger to her mouth-''six and
eight are fourteen-six into--no-eight
into six won't go-er-"
That's it, Mrs. Brindle; you've
solved the sphvnx' riddle! You've hit
the combination. If had your sense
and arithmetcal calculation, I'd get n
box and mask rs the fifteen puzzle.
No, Mrs. Brndle, that six and that
eight don't mean an arithmetical puz.
zle nor problem in applied mechanics
for some gosh inged fool to sweat
over. 1t means that there are six
notes to measure, and each note is
one-eighth long"
"One-eighth OF what, dear?"
"One-eighth of mile of nautical
league, of course; any dad-darned
length you want it, howled Mr.. b.
''Now; when l count six. you must
make one note each time | count.
Now. listen and paw attention; one. two,
three, four. five, six," and he counted
along keeping time on Mrs. B. back.
And Mrs Brindle, in sympathetic mo-
ton, bobbed her head up and down,
looking ut him all the time as if she
thought him crazy.
''What in the glory of Gideon are YOU
bobbin' your head up and down in that
way forP Can't you countP Count,
tell YOU"
lone, two, three. four five, SIX"
sang Mr.. b. And Mrs. Brindle chimed
in. zone. two. three, four. five, SIX.
seven. eight, nine, ten, eleven.
twelve"
by the blood of Boswell, what are
You doingP Count on. Mrs. Brndle;
don't stop or You'll break the charmed
circle. Count million" growled Mr..
b. IF could count us well as YOU
I'd hire out as Tightening calcula-
tor"
swell, Idon't care! You told me to
count" whispered Mrs. Brinde.
81 told you TO count but six" Mrs.
Brindle chirped her way this time
pretty successfully through two meas
ures.
There. that's all right. Now, Mrs.
Brindle, we will try the chord CO :"
and he smiled benignly. &C IS a
nstural key and has no sharps or flats
in its harmonious blending"
Mrs Il. took up the guitar and tuck
ed it under her chin. as she had seen
Mr. b. do the violin.
''Now. dear, give me the stick and
am ready TO pla,," she said.
"Give you the whatP' asked Mr..
Brindle, his nose curling up in disgust;
"what in the names of Bethlehem
bounteousness do you want q stick
forP Take the dad hinged thing from
under your chin; do you take it for n
napkinp Take It away. | tell Won!
what do you want stick forP You
want to whack it like cow in orr gar
den. o, glorious CULVER. go on, play
it with stick. beat the immortal in
sides out of {; whack psalms of glory
and good tidings out of it! Sing unto
the Lord n new song! Hallelujah!"
And Mr.. Brindle grabbed the guitar
aud ctan1ninO IN II rusbad from tho