Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1889-09-18
THE SCOTCH MUSIC.
1t Was a Drawing Card Down at the
Exposition Last Night.
SOME INTERESTING EPISODES
The Great Western Band Acquits Itself
Admirably.
BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF, MANY EXHIBITS

The children of the "Land O. Cakes" had
good time at the Exposition last night.
The music was all Scottish, and certainly
the Great Western Band. under the con.
ductorsnip of Mr.. B. Weiss, did ample jus
tice to the sweet melodies of "Auld Scot
land.'l The space around the bandstand
was thronged with admirers, many of whom
spoke in the time-honored accents OF the
Italian tongue or Erse," as truly as ever
did Lothian cotter or Hieland gillie.
One old lady who was evidently jealous OF
the prestige of her native land, was heard to
remark, "Dinna ye tell me, mon. They
ha' made Yankees out O. tn auld Scottish
sangs. Naebody can play Scottish airs but
Scotchmen"
In spite of the old lady's remarks, how
ever, everybody seemed more than pleased
looked love at the fair ones who accom-
"Annie Laurie" filled the air. There need
be no surprise if a good many Annie
Lauries ''gied their promise true, - while
munching Mr.. Marvin's fairy-like confec-
tions, with the dear old tune ringing in
their ears.
Then there swclled forth "Auld Lang
Syne," and you could have picked out the
Scotchmen from the Philistines by the
looks of deep feeling they stole at one
another, and the ridiculous amount of
handshaking that went on. The stirring
tones of "My Love She's but Lassie Yet"
made every foot beat responsive; and verify,
there were good many merry romps pres
ent who might have stood for Hogg's word
painting of the maid who was
Just jinkip', bonnie blinkin'
Hilty skilty lassie yet.
And so on "from grave to gay" from
"Annie Laurie to Bonnie Dundee, I"
through the whole repertoire of Scotia s
favorite airs. The big crowd surging
through the gaily-lit halls filled the build
ing with their laughter, criticised the plct-
ures in the art gallery with all the ''sang
froid" of long-established reviewers, drank
the free cocoa, eat the free pickles and pur-
chased the bon bons innumerable.
In one of the picture galleries there was
an amusing scence. A certain prominent
Pittsburg artist was leaning over the rails
admiring that charming sketch emitted, "a
Foggy Morning" The reader will recollect
the picture, which represents two figures,
stepping through the mist, upholding an
unromatic umbrella. Suddenly enter unto
the pensive artist stout lady who is show
ing another lacy through the galleries and
evidently wishes to impress upon the awe
struck crowds her knowledge of the pict-
ures. She stopped before the 'Foggy
Morning" and glancing hastily at it e1-
claims in ringing tones:
"Emily-Thls is In the Cleaning
There's Mollie Darling under the um-
brella.''
You should have seen the horror expressed
on the artists face as he turned round,
rudely startled from his contemplation.
Just then the band struck up John Anderson
My Jo," and there was rush for the band
stand. The old lady who thought Scotchmen
alone capable of rendering Scotch airs was there
with her husband, venerable white-haired
gentleman. Her skepticism seemed to have
vanished, for she was humming the sweet song
to herself, as she smiled on her old 40" by her
side. Then she put forth one wrinkled hand
and whispered:
. "Blessins on your frosty pow
John Anderson my Jor'
And SO the night sped on, and Scotia was
duly honored.