The Worthington advance., 1900-01-05

had to ask him what chickens were
worth twice before ha would pay any
attention.
1t was remarkable that while the lit
tie girls in the crowd seemed to en-
joy the music to certain extent, they
were not nearly as enthusiastic as they
were when the Italian came around
with his organ. The boys, on the other
hand, touched by the virile tones of the
big horns, formed in serted columns,
four or five strong, and strutted up and
down or else staggered singly about
the sidewalk, whereas thev st 3od aloof
in an attitude of dignified superiority
when the trivial feminine element
DANCED to the ripping allegro of the
mechanical piano. 1t is certain, too,
that neither the barber, the butcher nor
the grocer would have taken any no.
tice of the organ, they would have
tolerated it and that is all.
Fifteen cents more, assuming that the
three people who contributed to the
hat carried around by the discontented
boy who blew the horn-25 cents in all
for 20 minutes work! The band holds
another consultation over this and evil
dentiy decides that this corner is not
remunerative one, for they swing
around and march down Arbor street,
followed by large majority of their
juvenile audience. AS they march along
the leader looks at the windows right
and left. He is evidently sizing up the
probabilities with an experienced eye,
for he walks steadily on without sign
of stopping until he comes to Spruckel-
meyers saloon. There he stops and
faces about, bringing his bit battered
instrument into position.
1t must have been the magic of the
Teutonic name that induced the leader
to stop and try the effect of ''Ich Liebe
Dich, Mein Schatze," for he passed Hal
ioran's place without faltering, and
Halloran's place is a palace to
''Spruck's," inside and out. At some
time or another Spruckelmeyer must
have been seized with a brief decorative
fever, for in front of the dingy curtain
screening one of the windows is a lith-
ograph of an inebriated goat capering
on top of barrel, stained and spotted
with age and the visitations of flies.
There is also a dusty plaster cast of
bibulous gnome and a forgotten play
bill in German of comedy performed
at neighboring society hall two years
before. The other window is bare of
adornment, although above the curtain
the chandelier holding the two Kerosene
lamps can be seen wrapped about with
red, white and blue paper frillirg.
1t is evidently poor day for musical
art. The band plays ''Die Wacht am
Rhein," and certainly that ought to
bring out every German susceptible to
sentimental recollections, but the sa-
loon is unresponsive. Mrs. Schultze is
pattering about in her back yard, but if
she hears the band she makes no sign.
She is not a sentimental woman, how
ever, in spite of her fat, and her mild,
blue eyes. How Mr.. Bauer would have
been affected is, of course, matter Of
speculation. 1t is quite probable that
he would have been good for dime, at
least, but he started down to Clark
street for his dinner 20 minutes before
the band began to play in Green street.
There are plenty of people who ordi-
narily would be willing to pay for al
most any form of entertainment, for
stnginess is not an Arbor street vice,
but the day is raw and chilly and no
one seems to feel like abandoning
themselves to the pleasure of listening
more than minute or two.
So the band continues to play and the
players look more dismal than ever.
The wind blows in mockery of their
feeble efforts in that direction and
sends the last of the scar willow leaves
circling about their crimson-tipped
ears. Their eyes water from the suc-
cessive assaults of the stinging blast.
At last one of the doors with the
cheap colored transparencies on the
lower panes opens and Spruckelmeyer
comes through, with about an inch to
spare on each side of him. He is in his
shirt sleeves and carpet slippers and
has the rumpled, blinking look of man
newly reused from sleep. Still blink
ing, he thrusts thumb and forefinger
down into the pocket of his open waist
coat, and the leader of the band, see
ing the motion, looks hopeful and puts
additional spirit into his playing.
For the present, however, he is
doomed to disappointment, for Spruck-
elmeyer pulls his finger and thumb out
of his pocket again and between them is
a match, which he strikes and applies
to his long weichselstemmed pipe.
Having got the pipe to going we'll he
leans against the doorpost.
Perhaps some fond remembrances
aroused by the familiar music came to
the saloon keeper as he stood there and
puffed at his black pipe. If they did he
was not overcome by them. The almost
despairng band, looking at his express
s;onless face, were at loss to de-
termine whether he was enjoying their
harmonies or considering the propriety
of calling the police.
Jimmy Refs came along, carrying
white pitcher, and Spruckelmeyer,
while he moved little to allow Jimmy
| to enter the saloon, did not at once fol-
low him. This looked encouraging, and
the optimistic leader nodded and
smiled over his ophicleide to his doleful
mates. Then Jimmy and his pitcher
were no sooner out of the door than
Spruckelmeyer reappeared.
AS he did so the music stopped. It
was a thrilling moment. The leader
looked at Spruckelmeyer, and Spruckel-
meyer looked stolidly, blankly at the
leader. The rest of the band looked at
each other, and it was plain to see that
they expected nothing. 1t was going to
be just as they thought it would be