Omaha daily bee., 1889-10-13
THE HOTEL PARLOR PIANO.
The Anguish IL Occasions and th'
Fienus it Perpatrates.

hS hbSulSh III oCCaSiOuS anu VIC
Fiends IL Perpptrates.
Gentle reader, are you now living,
boarding, or, if it please you, existing,
at Il hotel? or have you, in times past,
lived, boarded or existed at one of the
many caravansaries of the country?
If so, this article will be appreciated,
because, as matter of fact, you have
times without number heard that ever
present and most intolerable nuisance,
the party that plays on the hotel plan o.
OF course you have-and the odds are
in favor of it being fact that your
apartment was or is directly over the
parior or that it was or is on the same
floor, in direct juXtapOsition to the pub
lie sitting room aforesaid. At night,
when you were tired and wanted to
sink into a refreshing sleep, you were,
or are now, kept awake by the
nuisance mentioned. And in the grey
dawn, when you desired Just one more
nap, the discordant sounds chased away
the charms of the drowsy god and sent
or sends you down 10 breakfast in the
worst frame OF mind imaginable. Dur
ing the day friend calls upon you and
you take him to your room to en- Joy u
pleasant chat only to have your conver-
sation drowned by the sounds of the in
strument under the touch of the girl
who thinks she knows how to play.
There are several classes of people
who make the hotel piano u nuisance.
The first is the party Of young people
from the country who come to town on
circus day and who get in on the frs
train in the morning. 1t usually con-
sists of three young men with their
sweethearts. They arrive in the city
about four hours before the parade
| and go straight to the hotel
parlor. Then, while one of the boys
goes down for some port wine, IL CON
versation something like the following
ensues:
"oh, my there's a piano; let's have
some music"
"Why, that's so, isn't it? Dear me,
ism nice one? You play, Aggie."
sob, / can't. You know | never took
but two lessons in my whole life. You
play. May"
Nov, Aggie, you know just as we'll
do that haven't, gotany piany-noth-
ing but an organ"
"Oh, we'll, what difference does that
make? oh, here comes George with
the wine"
Then one hears something like this:
Deur me! lSu u JlllS nicer
"Oh, what would they say at home if
we should get, te-he-he, drunk?"
why, that would be perfectly
awful. Let's not drink any more.
Let's slng., You play, Aggie," and
Aggie sits down.
"What shall we sing?"
ooh, let's sing Nellie Gray"
"No, don't know all OF that. Let's
sing sweet Violets.
mo, I'll tell you, We'll sing Over
There ana George can sing tenor and
Henry and viii bass, and L will sing
alto and you two soprano"
And they sing until the refrain, when
Aggie suddenly quits and says:
"Oh, can't play piano; you play,
May"
mo, you play" and they start again,
ing large circular saw; Georges tenor,
an imitation of a pig under tub, and
the shrill tones of the young ladies
voices, blend like castor oil and
soap suds. and everybody wishes that
grim death on his pale horse would gal
lop in and take them where
"Many dear to their hearts over there"
are waiting and watching for them.
They keep it up until the circus parade
comes along, and then everybody
breathes long breath and is glad.
There are others who play the hotel
piano. There is the young lady who Is
pretty and thinks she can play operatic
airs and she sits down at q a. m. and
pounds the instrument until the guests
rise up and invoke the shades OF
Beethoven and Mozart to oannihilate her.