The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1903-08-16
MY OLD KENTUCKY O M
Washington Post

washington 1OSt.
Manila lay like a gasping dog recover
ing from the torrid heat of the June day.
1t was evening now, and one by one the
lights in the little white frame houses be-
gan to glitter as if to herald the coming
CT night.
The moon was Just rising over the his
toric waters of the bay, while countless
stars contributed to the soft beauty of
the tropical night. Up at the northern
end Of the main street the electric sign
of the Red, White and Blue Theater sprang
into life in a burst of patriotic colors. Now
and then the rough voice of the American
speeler rang cut, breaking the nights still
ness with glowing descriptions of the great
show that could be found on the inside.
Descriptions which wound up with the
tempting announcement that there was no
charge of admission. A crowd of tattered,
barefooted, native children hung on the
curb, and divided their. attention between
listening to the speeler's gruff voice and
soliciting coins from the steady stream OF
humanity that entered the theater. Inside
the scene was fit for the brush of the artist.
The dirty ceiling of the long room that
served as the theater was festooned with
several ragged American flags. The walls
We're covered with cheap Autographs of
Admirals Dewey. Schley, Sampson, and
other notables of the American navy. The
sawdust floor had long since lost its natural
color In a generous coating of tobacco
juice. Up at the farther end of the hall
a dingy stage was barely discernable
through the thick haze of tobacco smoke,
and to this point the eye Of some hum
dred or two of people were turned as If
impatient OF some expected event. The
blue of the army uniform was everywhere.
while here and there the quiet dress of
the civilian and the gaudy colors Of the
native dress lent a cosmopolitan appear
ance to the scene. Back of the hall a
wooden bar, some ten feet in length, served
as the ounging place for a score or more
Of American soldiers that could not secure
accommodations on the inside. The sharp
clatter of the native tongue. mingled with
the sturdy American oaths, kept up a con-
tinual din that only ceased when a girl
made her appearance on the stage at the
end of the hall and started to sing some
popular ballad.
This was the great event Of the evening.
Miss - was an American girl. In fact,
the speeler at the door had called her the
sweet-voiced nightingale of the Capital
City, and then went on to relate in f1owery
terms the beauty of the woman whom the
management had brought direct from
Washington at a great Expense to please
the denizens of Manila. And so now, as
she stood before them, the crowd became
hushed, and gazed toward her. They saw
a most ordinary woman, perhaps a little
tired looking, with nothing to commend her
for beauty. unless it was a pair of won
derfully black eyes, eyes that told of a past
full of much pain and little joy. Her thin
lace WAS covered VII paint ana powder,
while a blond wig adjusted rakishly on her
head, completed an appearance that would
fit any music hall singer. Her first song
told Of a soldier boy that died on the field.
She was applauded In a half-hearted man
ner. The sentiment of the song demanded
this from them, but plainly the boys were
disappointed. They had expected a great
singer, but instead they heard the most
ordinary voice with just a bit of girlish
sweetness in IL. They were sore, as they
expressed ii, and half of them started
TO leave the hall.
A dark, handsome youth. in a soldiers
uniform, who had been leaning against
the bar at the back Of the hall during a
song, gave a sneer, and, with a disparag-
Ing remark about the singer, turned again
to his drink. The girl had come Oh the
stage for her second song. A few half
hearted handclaps greeted her appearance,
while from the back OF the hall a sharp
hiss was heard. 1t came from the youth
against the bar.
The girl OH the stage heard it and shot
a startled look at the sneering soldier as
the tremblIngly began her second song.
The crowd was silent, and then as the old
familiar words struck their ears a hum
Soft and sweet the words OF the old plan
tation melody fell from the singers lips.
The dingy stage faded from view. and in
its stead arose visions OF home. Count
less miles OF sea and land were bridged.
and once again the boys in blue were
back i'm Gods OWN country. Green fields
and barefoot boys passed In review be-
lore tnem- SWeetneaftS and wives smiled
through the haze of tobacco smoke. Gray
haired mothers leaned toward their BOYS
with tear-dimmed eyes and loving arms.
Somewhere across the waters that the
moon was flooding with silver they had e
home. Somewhere beneath that starlit
dome there stood mothers and wives
thinking of them. And as the singers
voice rang out In the sweet notes of Ny
old Kentucky Home" mother and son
met again i'm one fond embrace, and with
the notes OF the song carried them down
the aisles OF time To the long ago.
The singing ceased The hiss had hurt
her. and there were tears in her black
eyes as she ended the last note with a sob.
For a space all was silent. and the girl
covered back from the expected storm OF
disapproval. But sadenly the old audi
forum of the Red. White and Blue Theater
became "A scene such as had i,ever besore
been witnessed within its portals. As IL