The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1894-07-12

n
arms Of man | knew-a man who IS
supposed to know every thing. Most men
think they deserve this description, but
this particular man had somehow in
weighed his friends into agreeing with
him.
why. what thoughtful face you
have this morning! What's the matter2'
he asked
.-Oh. I have been watching that poor
old nan down the street there, and it
seems awfully sad to meI' I answered
rather lnistily.
The music? It is beast1y. Heavens,
just hear those hottest I don't wonder
you think such lack Of ear terribly sad"
II was referring to the musicians sad
condition" I snapped.
why, you're lot plying him2"
yes. 7 am
well, You needn't. He makes as
much money in a day, considering the
few hours he works, as a skilled artisan
does who has to slave indoors after hav-
ing spent years learning his trade. You
don't believe it? Well, come with me. y
We entered house about half a mile
away. 1t was dllapidated and dirty. as
are all the dwellings Of the lower class
Italians in New York, but it was curl
ously interesting. All around the room
stood street organs of various kinds,
from the small, consumptive one-kept
SO, as 1 learned, for artistic purposes,
and particularly suitable for the blind
man who sits on a crowded corner in
the theater district-to the newest and
most blatant street pianos.
Then after a good deal of subterfuge
and ciTcumlocution these facts were as
certained from the earringed and oily
proprietor.
The pianos are hired at exorbitant
rates, but the itinerant musicians are
quite willing to pay. the rates-they can
afford it. It is seldom that a man is
more than year IN the business without
being able to buy outright his own street
organ for from $50 to 500. After this
his profits are enornous-that is, com
paratively SO. Four or five hours street
playing brings in as many dollars, gath
cred almost mysteriously in pennies
along the route assigned to EACH
ssAnd, oh, make believe these grind
ers' are not wide awake to effects said
the man who knew it all as we left.
s'When one goes into the German dis
trict among the purlieu.s where the
sauerkraut' sign is displayed, he plays
The Watch on the Rhine for all he is
worth When he trundles his organ
through the French quarter, many an
old man feels his blood shiver with q
fever he had fancied dead when through
the sunny air the street musician sends
up the maddening, inspiriting strains Of
The Marseillaise. He sees again scenes
that give his old limbs strength, and
what does he do or what does his little
daughter do, or the good wife who is
ironing some other Woman's petticoats
by the window? Why surely a few pen
MES can be spared to the musician who
has colored their dull dayl Besides, il
he fares well in the neighborhood, he'll
come again soon. And SO it goes. Where
the Irish predominant you hear The
Wearing of the Green or The Rocky
Road to Dublin and in neighbOrhoods
not so clearly nationalized they give a
tutti frutti of tunes from Bonnie Dun
dee to the Swedish Wedding March
Theirs is a lotus eating life Let man
bury his pride and take to the streets
with an organ, and he'll make money.
To the Italian it is heaven, for he breathes
the free air, and he knows no master.
Now and then they have romances and
small legaeies left them-"
s.Nonsense!'
Nonsense echoed the all knowing
one s.Listen: There was one thing
that the little crippled daughter of a
millionaire loved above all else, and
that was the organ grinder who stopped
before her prison mansion every Satur-
day afternoon. She used to watch for
him. and the song she loved best was
Little Annie Rooney Well, one day
when the organ grinder stopped before
tile house it rEaa sheltered, and white