The Dalles daily chronicle. [volume] (The Dalles, Or.) 1890-1948, 1896-12-05
FAMOUS SONG.
The Song That Reaches Our Hearts Ii
"My Old Kentucky Home"

The Song That Reaches Our Hearts Is
"My Old Kentucky Home"
There is one song in the English lam
guage that, perhaps, comes closer to the
hearts of Americans, particularly if
they are far from home and kinSmen,
than any other. That song is my Old
Kentucky Home" The simple, tender
story it tells and its irresistible melody
are familiar to nearly every one. 1t
has been sung by noted singers in every
civilized country on the globe, and has
been eulogized by authors and critics
of classical taste; yet its author,
Stephen Foster, died unhonored and
unsung, and unconscious of the master
ly work he had Wrought. Like nearly
all other great artists, however, Fosters
recompenke came after be was dead,
and it is safe to say that ssAIy Old Ken
lucky Home and its writer's name will
live SO long as human sentiment and
love of home endure.
Those Americans who were present at
Patti concert in the Grand opera
house of Paris in the early seventies are,
many of them, old men and women
TOW, but they can still wildly recall
the tindescribable scene when the diva
appeared in response to an encore and
sang, as only Patti could sing, this
sweet, simple ballad. 1t was entirely
unexpected, and before they were
aware strong men were weeping and
women were hysterically giving vent
to emotions they did not try to control.
At its conclusion the great singer was
literally showered with flowers and
costly gifts. One rich American threw
roll of bills over the footlights that
was said to contain a sum of money up
Ill the thousands. The demonstration
was perhaps the most magnificent ever
accorded a suitor for public favor
Apropos of all this, the following
from the Philadelphia Call illustrates
the wonderful charm the song still
Lolds:
A street singer stopped to sing the
other night in front of a well-known
hotel. He was an old chap, blind of
one eye, and infirm, but gifted with the
remnant of what was once a very sweet
tenor voice. With him as attendant
and guide was his daughter, a child of
sunny Italy, sun-browned, large-eycd
and attractive in her picturesque GARD.
The old fellow sang first that ditty of
the streets: Just Tell Them That You
Saw Me-" provoking little attention.
Then he began to sing in his tremulous,
quavering voice an old favorite. AS
he proceeded the windows of the hotel
were raised one by one and guests
looked out with sympathetic eyes.
Coins showered down to the picturesque
little maid, who circulated about with
her tanbourine, collecting. Men
Ftrolled out of the cafe and gathered on
the steps, listening with interest. One
CID fellow, tall, soldierly looking man,
with flashing dark eyes and an air that
was Enthusiastically southern, gave the
child a note with the remark: sit did
my heart n dollars worth of good >
When the last strain of the touching
old melody died away everybody pres
ent wore that dreamy look that tells of
old memories stirred and refreshed.
! The song was ''The Old Kentucky
Homes" the southerner touched by It's
rendition a former Kentuckian ruined
by the rayages of the -Cincinnati
Enquirer.