Waterbury evening Democrat., 1892-11-07
MUSIC FOR A NICKEL
now al Did Song Touched a Salo
 

Lounger's Heart.
 He had bren seen in the saloon before not every day, but when it was rain ing pr when the policeman jostled him "jf t'lc corner. He never had much money, probably not more than $20 all told in half a year. The fellow may have been in better condition at on. time in his life. But there was nobody who could swear to that For year> he had been only a lounger in long, rusty coat, which he kept well buttoned to cloak still more aged raiment. Y t this young fellow (for he was not old) had goo'i face, and this had served him well on more than one occasion.
 He canc shuffiing into the saloon the other day just as he had done many times before. As rule he was not welcome visitor, but this time the we'll groomed and perfumed bartender sim ply scow ed at him and continued mix ing and spooning. A score of men stood at the bar with their faces buried in mint which hung temptingly over the sides of as many glasses The lounger hesitated about mingling with the merrymalzers, and while he waited for the time to come to spend his only nickel for beer he shutfi ed up to one of those musica! slot machines one sees on every hand. A card above the merce- nary cOntrivance announced that the musical program nc for the day em- braced three popular songs These were:
 ''rhe Nightingale"
 Read the Answer in the Stars"
 My Nellie's Blue Eyes,
 The lounger read the list with inter- oct IL l. of the melodies, for it had been many a long day since he had been entertained. He crossed his legs as loungers always do and leaned upon the machine with an elbow. What could he do with one nickel-his last coin on earth, or in the sea below, or, as we may suppose, in the heavens above. It would cost five cents to hear each of these melodies and what did he care for ''The Nightin- gale" or Read the Answer in the StarS?''
 One of the merrymal1ers, with an ex- tra flourish of his handkerchief to his mouth, inserted nickel and the ma chine played the first tune. But that was all. The bartender, in a spirit of hospitality, dropped another coin in the slot, and gutteral rendition of Marie Jansen's famous song rolled out of the machine. The lounger was silent, but not unusually interested in the melodies. He stood close to the wall where he would not be in the way, for bartenders are coarse and rough to loungers when they intrude.
 There was still one more piece for that machine to play. It was an old song, to be true, and it seemed to be waiting in an apologetic way for a coin to set it's familiar chords to tinkling But the merrymalers had had enough. They went one way and the bartender another. The lounger stood alone. He clasped his only nickel, fumbled it awhile as if in doubt to spend it for beer or music and then softly dropped it into the slot.
 There was a momentary grinding of the wheels and then sweetly and clear ly came the familiar strains of the old song The lounger leaned affection ately upon the box, his head almost resting upon the rusty sleeve of his coat The bartender arranged the car nations in his white jacket and spoke harshly of the extravaganza of the patron. The lounger neither saw nor heard anything but the brass wheels as they turned in the machine and the old fashioned melody as rolled out into the gilded stuccoed room. Suddenly the wheels stopped. The last chord had been struck.
 ''Now, get out of here; you've heard all there is," yelled the bartender, strengthening his jacket in an impatient way. The lounger still clung to the machine as if expecting repetition of his song.
 Do you hear, or will have to give you the eltzer bottle?" exclaimed the bartender in more threatening voice.
 The lou nger was awakened. He strengthened up, wiped something from his eyes ou his rough coat sleeve and shutf1 ed toward the door.
 Its all right, Bill" he said, but used to have girl when I was a heap better off than I am now. Her name was Nell, Bill, mean Nellie, and she had eyes bluer'n the sky. I just wanted to hear that song once more, Bill It's done me good, you've got my last nickel and the whole thing hain't done you no harm. Yes, Bill, her eyes were bluer'n yours, a heap bluer am going; don't hurry me"-Chicago