The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1899-02-24
The songs df Nowaday..

"Huhv said Mr.. Peter Paddlebox, with
snort of disapproval, according to the
Baltimore American, popular songs, in
deed Isn't anything popular about them,
except that the public can't get away from
EN-! There's a regular snow-storm of
songs-bad, worse and awful!
by the thousands these songs hutter
from the presses and fall at the feet of the
frightened populace. People who cannot
readily distinguish between a sonnet and
a can of Lima beans have abandoned their
business of cart driving to open Rag-time
fcundries and ballad emporiums. There
should be society for the suppression of
sentimental songs-there really should.
AT any rate many of the millions who
are tramping along the highway of har-
mony in search of fame, should be SEN
fenced to night-school, where time and
the teachers would probably convince them
that baby doesn't rhyme with lady
And poor mother! Sorry, indeed, is the
sentimental song when mother doesn't
break into it, Honestly, now, did you ever
hear a modern ballad that didn't men
tion mother? Never a one.
And where's papa all this time? Does
papa figure in the handmade, copper
fastened ballad of to-day? Not on your
cinematograph! On all occasions mother
has to leave her sewing and take up the
white mans burden in the Vaudevilles
Papa gets the lobsterized leer. Lucky pa
pa.
Let me cali your attention TO one of the
the latest atrocities in sentimental songs.
Suggested, as you'll see, by the late bliz-
zard. oh, nothing escapes the bullying
proved ballad builder. Here it is: Tell
Mother viii Board With Her No More
as sung with great success by the Summer
garden Sisters-Strawberry and Vanilla.
Now please note the Alfred Austinized eff
fects in the lyric:
within a station far away, amidst the
bowling storm,
An operator lonely sat and tried hard to
keep warm.
The empty scuttle stood before the stove.
grown cold and gray,
For just an hour before the lad had given
the coal away.
The fast express had stopped there and
they had no fuel on board;
Take miner' the operator said, Take all
my scanty hoard! ~
The engine must not freeze" he said, land
l shall break this cold
Thermometer in pieces, then shall not
feel the coldp'
That gallant operator saved the quick ex-
press, but he
Was freezing fast to death when with his
wrist he tapped the key:
(Refrain)-
oh. take the news to mother!
Dot two dashes, four dots. dot dash,
dashl
Tell sister and tell brother!
Dash, four dots, dot!-Oh, tell them ALI
Tell dear old Uncle Freddie,
Four dots, dot space dot, DASH dot, long
dash!
That 1 am nearly ready
Dash three dots, two dots, long dash,
long dash!
Telt mother I will board with her no
more"
Look at that % continued Mr.. Paddle
box. There's modern popular song for
you! The place for people who write,
songs like that is in the absurd mansion
The idea of telegraph operator singing
a song with his wrist I've heard tele
graphers laugh over the wire-fve dots
two dots! five dots. two dots.-but il thew
attempted TO sing, l firmly believe the
wires would jump out of the switchboard
and leave che room.
Next thing you know the balladists will
have society dancing the german over the
telephone. Pouf! I'd like TO know wha,
this world is coming to. Here are the
city's streets still full of snow, because
all the shovelers are az home saving out
sentimental songs Huhr' and with this
Mr.. Paddlebox shifted the air savagely
! and stalked away. ...