The Arkansaw traveler., 1888-06-23

MmOus melodies was written. 1t ls not known to which of his songs the writer referred-it may have been his most noted one, "The Old Folks at Home" or "My Old Kentucky Home, 1" which William Cullen Bryant thought worthy of including in his "Library of Poetry and Song"
 Foster was a true poet as we'll as composer, and wrote both the words and music of all his songs. His most artistic composition was the charming serenade, "Come, Where My Love Lies Dreaming" which was sung at his funeral in Pittsburg, Pa., in January, 1864. In his power to touch the great heart of the people and give pathos and charm to the simplest theme, he remains unrivaled among American song writers.
 It is said that the methods of Frank Howard, the successful author of "Only Pansy Blossom" and other songs, are somewhat peculiar, and would astonish many musicians. Mir. How ard is negro minstrel by profession. He writes the words of his songs him. self, and then, with the other mem- bers of the company, proceeds to drum out on hotel pianos suitable air. 1t sometimes requires several instru- ments and changes of scene to produce 8 taking song, which, when completed, Is written out and tried upon the audience in the evening. II the song pleases, it is sent to the publisher and put upon the market. This is cer- tainly an ingenious system of compo- sition, and affords an opportunity of testing ones music, which gives him an advantage over other song writers who are unable to become minstrels. It would almost seem that in later years the success of song has been in direct proportion to the frivolity of it's subject. The composer, Dexter Smith, is known to have made several attempts before hitting the public taste, although he had written many beautiful verses. Upon one occasion he took a copy of very carefully written composition to his publisher, and that gentleman suggested to him that he should publish 1t in a first class magazine, admitting frankly that it was too good for him to make avail able.
 "What, then, does the public wants" queried the astonished author.
 Something like this," was the reply, and the publisher read to him several extracts from the latest suc- cessful ballads.
 Smith was disgusted and left the office. As in deep reflection, he strode along the streets of Boston he heard an untidy urchin cry out to his mother, Say, ma'am, put me in my little bed" There is a subject, thought the song writer, and on reaching home he proceeded to write out what he considered the fattest song of which he was capable. The result of his effort was gladly &C., cepted by the publisher and, to the poets surprise, seemed equally to please the public. In short, it was this song which first made the author famous, and the sale of "Put Me in My Little Bed" soon reached an enormous figure.
 Among the favorite songs of our day are some which have originated under peculiarly curious circum- stances. The familiar "Peek- a. Boo," which has now been worn nearly thread bare, was, according to its author, Mir. Scanlan, an inspiration of the moment. It was suggested by the gambols of some children, who were playing around the door where he was sitting, idly picking out tunes upon an accordeon. As the children peeped curiously into his door, he began to say "Peek-a- boo," nodding his head at the same time. Uncon- sciously the instrument played few notes to suit what he was saying, and the idea of new melody struck his fancy. He immediately wrote off the chorus of "Peek-a-boo" upon an en- velope, and added few stanzas after wards, touching up the song at his leisure. The music came spontaneously, and was far less difficult than the fit- ting of it with appropriate words but as it was by no means his first ex- perience, he was not long in getting it into proper shape.
 It was certainly happy inspiration for MT. Scanlan. This melody alone has netted him s36,000 in royalties, and still brings in a comfortable in- come, as he receives six cents on each copy sold. It has, with his numerous other compositions, made him a for tune, in striking contrast with such writers as poor Stephen Foster and John Howard Payne, whose best works served only to enrich the pub- fishers who were so fortunate as to obtain their entire control.
 Probably no American song has a more curious history than the favorite college melody, "It Was My Last Cigar.n The words were written