Warren sheaf. [volume] (Warren, Marshall County, Minn.) 1880-current, 1900-01-04
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) A STREET BAND. !;
& By Kennett F. Harris.
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N TFAKENTLY something was hap
n pening or was about to hammer
Just around the corner il Green street,
LOT the children were gathering there
rom every direction. The fact that
uhlcer oHara was standing with his
pack to the wall on the corner onno-
sue 70 the little crowd altogether pre-
ciuded the possibility of a fight. If
there had been a fight Officer O'Hara
would not have been standing there
ianguldly swinging his club. He would
nave been in the thick of it with JOY
Gus promptness, a party of the third
part or first Importance. In view of
thlsi circumstance the adults of Arbor
street who saw anything of the rush
were inclined to be conservative in
the1f curiosity and to await develop
ments.
They did not have to wait long.
there was a sudden blare of sound
lull of metallic vibrations, with an
omph, omph," accompaniment that es-
tabished its musical individuality be-
You'd the shadow of doubt.
Its German band" shouted Stub
McAhster to Pearl Dickey. "Come
along!''
AS the children ran their flying feet
kept involuntary time to the air and
some of the people who were passing
by were constrained to lengthen or
shorten their stride or to hasten or
slacken their speed to accommodate
themselves to the measure of the mar
tal music. The girls who had been
walking demurely along slipped their
arms around each others waists and
laughing loudly glided into a dance
step over the rough plank sidewalk.
Even Officer O'Hara tapped his thick
soled shoe on the pavement and swung
his club in rhythmical sweeps.
Mr.. Drewrey, who was transferring
turnips from sack to one of the
trays outside his store, paused mo-
ment to listen. ''They do first-rate,
them fellers," he remarked to the po-
hceman as he Strengthened himself
and wiped his hands on the back of
his trousers.
"They do THAT" asserted O'Hara.
'"Them Dutch is natural born musi-
clans. My sister married Dutchman,
and he can pick up anything you've
mind to- mention, from a jews harp
to a cat dral organ am play you your
ch'ice of music"
II had young brother who was
the same way, said Mr.. Drewrey. cts
gift, that's what it is-a gift"
The musicians stopped and held a
brief consultation. Possibly they
were celebrating on the advisability
of CHANGING another tune at that spot.
Somebody threw nickel down from
an upper window and a very small
child, encouraged by stout and
cheerful-lool1ing woman who had just
come out Of the meat market, toddled
up to the leader Of the band and put
a coin in his hand. The leader smiled
until the tiny wrinkles at the corners
Of his eyes deepened and spread all
over his rosy cheeks and his Tanks"
down in his chest, sounded like note
from his big brass ophicleide., He
pulled off his cap and bowed with
quite an air, too, and the woman
smiled and nodded back to him.
There were four of them in the band,
the leader, with his ophicleide, stout,
red-faced little man with a heavy mus.
tache, and gray hair-what there was of
it-and military cap and coat which
was sadly out of tune with a pair of
plaid trousers badly bagged at the
knees. The leader seemed to be the
only cheerful member of the band. The
man who played the clarinet was quite
Respondent about something, though if
he had looked happy he. would have
been entitled to a great deal of credit,
for his pale, sunken cheeks and hollow
eyes must have been occasioned either
by famine or sickness. TWAS positive
relief to the onlooker when he began to
blow and inflated his face into some
semblance of health and prosperity.
Then, too, his shoes were gaping at the
joints and the turned-up collar of his
coat was pitiful evidence that the coat
was insufficient to keep it's wearer
warm. When a man is i'll clad and i'll
fed it is hard for him to appear con-
tented with his lot. The cornet player
was also pale and gloomy. He was as
tall as the leader was short, and his
coarse, black hair struggled down in
uneven lengths over his shoulders.
The fourth and last of them was mere
boy-a growing boy, too, judging by
the interval of blue yarn sock apparent
between his boot top and trouser bot
tom. He blew a horn and to all appear
ances wished that he was doing some
thing else instead.
The quartet ranged themselves in as
much of circle as they could compass
and struck up a popular "rag-time" air,
whereupon the barber came out of his
shop, two doors down the street, and
stood with his hands under his white
apron, listening appreciatively, Tony
Baicek, the little Bohemian butcher.
had to come out, too, and he was so en-
tranced by the melody that a customer
had to ask him what chickens were
worth twice before he would pay any