Evening star., 1899-11-11
PLAYED FOR THE SAILORS

"One afterroon, when the ship was lying
at the Brooklyn navy yard, about ten years
ago., said an officer who was formerly at
tached to the cruiser Chicago, which Is to
be Admiral schley.s flagship on the South
Atlantic station, ia small, black-garbed
man came aboard sto look us over-a man
with smooth, benevolent face, bald head
and a certain lindefnable air of finish about
him. The Chicago,w was at that time fitting
out for cruise, and most of the officers
were somewhat too busy to offer the cour-
tesfes of the ship to any but visitors who
came to us with credentials. So no atten-
ton was paid to the little man, and he was
permitted to roam about the ship at will
He was quite alone, and he ambled about
curiously, patting the big guns, peering
into the galley interestedly, and seeming
in general to be much entertained in his
inspection of a man-O'-war. After he had
gone over the main deck thoroughly he
went down the engine-roorh hatch to the
berth deck to look that over. As he passed
through the starboard alley on the berth
deck it S probable that he heard the strains
of the violin that a huge Irish marine was
playing in the marines berth deck COM
partment. Anyhow. he proceeded to the
source of the sounds, and there he found
Clancy-that was the Irish marines name
sitting on a ditty box and playing Wind
That Shakes the Barley'-the one part Of
1t that he knew, that is-with enthusiasm,
iiiHiSltlIty ana HuSt per 'liJVS iii'lit-
The violin was a good instrument that the
Irish marine had picked up at a bargain
in Dublin.
The small, black-garbed, bald-headed
man stood for awhile in the starboard
berth deck alley and listened to the Irish
mans weird performance Nobody was
paying any attention to the lrlshman or
his music The ships visitor walked over
to where the giant marine sat sitting on his
ditty box. and, without saying anything.
held out his hand for the violin The
Irishman looked up, eyed the Hungarian
suspiciously for a moment. and then
handed the violin and bow over to the
stranger, for there was something of COM
mand in the latter's pantom1mlc way OF
asking for it.
The stranger swept the bow across the
strings, tuned the +, and began to play.
lie opened up with some Irish melodies
Meeting of the Waters, - The Harp That
Once Through Taras Halls, klliarney,
etc. 1t was supreme music. l know, Tor
with the first strains | had my head poked
over the engine room hatch rail- ana
1 couldn't drag myself away from there
to attend to my duties as othcer OF
the day. All hands on the berth deck
knocked off their various employments,
made for the marines compartment, ana
stood there listening to the marvellous mu-
sic made by the small. black-garbed. bald
headed man. Then there was clatter OF
many feet along the decks. and the two
alley-ways became jammed with silent men
who wanted to be close to those wonderful
face finished the Irish medley with pas
sionate rendering of Come Back to Erin
"T' think thot Dago cud play tn
chunes O. ould Oireand loike thOt! the
Irishmen in the crew We're heard to
hoarsely mutter, for 1t was evident that the
player was a foreigner. n
THE stranger continued playing, ana
descended the ladder myself to be nearer TO
the music of his bow. He played Men
delssohn's Spring Song almost in fashion
to make a chaps heart bleed. The cry
went all over the ship, Who Is itE a crowd
began to assemble on the main deck,
a ound the hatchway looking into the ma
rines' compartment. The stranger played
Tarboard Watch, 5AhOy.' with improVisa-
Observation-Disclosures that were white caps
of joy, bursting upon tropical beaches
Then he wandered off into the majestic sea
chants from Wagner's Flying Dutchman
There came a voice from the hatchway
above:
Lord have mercy, but what the deuce
is this? exclaimed the voice, which was
that of our good commanding officer. The
music had drawn the skipper out of his
cabin and all Of the officers deserted the
ward room and were listening at the
hatches.
''The small mans playing ceased.
Ship him, Ship him" was the hoarse
yell that went up from all hands There
were suspicious breaks in the voices Of the
men. suspicious bits of moisture in the eyes
who stood leaning ever the hatchway like
man entraneed. The music had, OF a
truth, been overwhelming. The skipper
ciattered down one Of the match ladders.
My friend said he to the small black
CARRIED man, courteously, I do not know
whom have the honor and the privilege Of
addressing-but, sir, you play-you play!
and the skipper mopped his forehead.
'Merci, merci,-but l grow older-older,
said the small, black -garbed, bald-hcaded
n an, handing the captain his card, which
read simply. Edouard Remenyi-the name
of that masterful violin virtuoso who died
suddenly while performing in San Fran
cisco a few years ago The captain linked
his arm into that of Rerenyi, and whisked
him off to his cabin. The big Irish ma
rlne's remark showed how the music had
moved him:
'Oi'n be a-goin' t mass tn Soonday,' he
caid