The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1896-01-16
HOW ne PRAcTIcED.
A Little Brooklyn Boys Daily Piano les
ann.


oted from the conservatory, remarked that
he had developed, almost from the moment
he had taken his place at the instrument,
unlocked for power for one so young and
had given evidence of a degree of clever
ness in general exercise along the keyboard
that made her more than hopeful of his
future in music.
He must not seek to progress too fast, -
was the parting injunction to the boys
mother.
''Then you really think he shows an
aptitude for methodical practicep'
"Oh, yes, replied the teacher. "But we
Will have to be patient with him and make
him feel an interest in the lessons. Of
course everything depends on practice, for
practice, you know, makes perfect" Sho
caught the youngster's eye at this juncture
and addressed him in her most soothing
tones:
you will not forget what teacher said,
will you, dear? Remember-one, two
three, four, strong, firm touch every
time
"Yes'm,' - replied the pupil. who stood
beside his mother, gracefully balancing
himself on the outer edge of his well worn
soles.
The door opened and closed. and the
young musician noted the departure of his
tutor by yelling lone, two, three
sneakP' and by deity lodging he got out
of range and escaped being goose yoked by
his mother, now her real self, who had
sought to capture him about the neck
with the crooked handle of ''real wood
umbrella hastily snatched from the rack
in the hall.
''Now, Rand, - said the mother, return
ing the umbrella and assuming an injured
tone, "do try to be good.' She moved
forward with ghostlike step as she spoke.
Don't cut up any more capers. Relnem-
Der what your teacher said and go and
T1ractice and 7 will not xUhir1 Won
The advance of the mother was coinci-
don't with the retreat of the son. Reach
ing the piano, the lad tapped high c.
tum, tum to tum, tum, tu-n-and in a
frank outburst of confidence announced
that he would accept his mothers condi-
tons.
"I'n be good, mommer, for fact.
Cross my heart. That's right
That satisfied the mother-mothers are
easily satisfied with their own boys-and,
mentally moralizing on the influence of
kindly nature in the training of 9-year-
olds, she sighed and went to her sewing
room, where she was soon dividing her
time between a pattern for a yoke collar
of ecru guipure filled with killed white
| chiffon, and an esoterio review of SvengaH
| With bound such as carries boy over
the back of mate in the entertaining
| game of foot ard a half Rand landed on
the trent bling top of the moth eaten fringed
| piano stool, and, without loss of time, be-
| gan his practice.
CHOW, this isIthe bass,'' said the boy,
sweeping all the keys from the center
| down to the last low octave, land these
! squeakers are the trebles, - running his
right thumb nail along the white keys on
| the opposite side.
This is the bass,
And this is the treble.
If don't be good
I'll be licked like the debbil."
He repeated this extelnporized verse half
| o dozen times with an accompaniment in
three flats and two sharps and ended it
| with Wagnerian climax.
Randi R-a-n-n-dl Are you praotie-
ing?''
The boy did not answer his mother. He
| saw no need of it.
Gam practicingp' he said to himself.
''I 'spose she didn't hear me. Noble she
! thinks I've run out P'raps she's got q
notion in her head that the Forty-seyenth
regiment band is in here practicing.
That's always the way. They never think
| I'm doing anything. I'll make her hear
| me this time!"
Hitching one toe back of the other leg
and withdrawing his foot from his slipper,
| he poised the we'll fiattened and i'll shaped
| article over his head.
''This will be the Grand Army coming
| down Bedford avenue. I'll whistle for
the flies, and this,'' wabbling the slipper,
| WILL 10 G1l0 DdSS NlIQLIIStICA3 anu tIlSs
| placing his finger on the deepest toned key
on what he called the 'here-comes-the-
wooIly- woolly- side' of the instru-
mont, twill be the drum. All ready
| For-r-r-r-war-r-r-d mooh!'
Half singing, half whistling, he started
through Georgia go, 900 strong. But sud-
| den order to halt came from his immediate
superior in the sewing room before the ad-
vancing column had passed beyond the
confines of Atlanta.
caro- you doing as your teacher in
structed you to do?'' asked his mother,
leaning well over the stairs, with view to
making the young man think she was
nearer than the fact warranted.
mot 'xactly. 1 was jess trying some
| thing new. Say, mommer, did all of the
| GO, 900 soldiers sing all the time they WIZ
a-marching through Georgian"
Il do not know, my child replied the
| mother, pleased at the interest he seemed
TO be taking in his country's history.
| ASK your grandpa. He was a soldier
with them.''
"One of the go, 600 strong, mommer?''
Eyes. my little soldier boy, one of the
o,ooO.''
81 don't believe they did. I know they
| didn't all sing
"How could you know itf Little boys
| assume to know too much"
Fakes don't go with me. I've heard
| the deacon try to sing lots of times and,
| say, he can't MARBLE a little bitP'
This is no time to discuss that sub
! ject,'' said the mother, stepping down to
the turn on the stairs and seeking to re-
move a finger mark from the wall paper
with her handkerchief. "And, moreover,
Rand, you should be more respectful when
| speaking about your grandpa, and partic-
ularly with reference to his war record.
| am sure he served his country faithfully.
| for he has his army blanket yet and all
the clippings telling how he was drafted
as a volunteer
81 know that old blanket. It had 20.
s. in the middle and moths on two ends,
| but grandpop was too fly to sing when he
| was down near the enemy. He wouldn't