The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1903-11-29

rug beside the fireplace in the other room
to take up a position Of vantage In the
arched doorway. And when the vital point
of the ballad was reached he turned his
nose toward the ceiling and let out wall
that sounded like the cry of Irish ban
shee on ST. Patrick's eve. 1t was blood
curdling, and those who heard it will never
forget 1T until their. dying day. The hostess
was terribly put out over the matter-and
the dog was put out, too. just soon as
possible. Everybody tried 10 get the pretty
girl TO sing the piece over again, but she
refused. She said she had never been given
such a scare in all her life. and that she
doubted If she would ever sing again.
The incident threw a wet blanket
the musicale, and, in order to brighten
things up, the hostess suggested that Mr..
B. sing comic song. Now Mr.. b. was one
of the guests who had not been told in adj
vance that he would be expected to take
part in the programme, and he was not pre-
pared to contribute. However. he said he
wouldn't mind giving 'em a comic song IL
somebody would play his accompaniment.
1t would be ragtime song. he explained.
The hostess herself offered to act as &C
companist She said she had been studying
Ben Harney's book on ragtime and was
getting on fine in the syncopated tempo.
And so it looked as if a real treat was in
store for everybody.
Mr.. B. has always been firm in the i'm
preston that he can sing a comic song.
His friends are even more firmly convinced
that he cannot sing a comic song, but the
people present upon this occasion were not
posted-and so they urged him to entertain
them, and settled back in their seats pre-
pared to be delightfully."- amused. 1t does
not make any difference whether a comic
singer has a voice or not of course. and
even if he does get off the key occasion
ally and fail to keep with the piano, these
little shortcomings are overlooked. Mr.. b.
did all of these things, but he did other
things, too-he had trouble with the words.
He said that he would sing bill Bailey"
"'It's little old, / know" he added, but
I sing it better than anything else" The
hostess at the piano said that she knew
the song well enough to improvise, an ac-
compartment, and proceeded to play an
introduction When the time came for
Mr.. B. to start singing he asked for more
time. His eyes were staring hard at the
floor, and he was scratching his head
thinking desperately. He had forgotten
just how the plaguey thing began. he said.
The accompanist good-naturedly played
the introduction over again, and this time,
| when Mr.. BIS turn came to burst into
song, his face lit UP and he shouted out
| in a negro dialect that had to be heard to
| be appreciated:
"Out in de rain and de seet an de snow
Out whar de wintry winds do blow
| And then came to a sudden and very awk-
| ward stop, as he realized that the lines
| didn't fit in at all with the music that was
being torn out of the keyboard.
THAT isn't Bill Bailey you're singing,
old man." said a sour-faced gentleman who
sat near the piano. That's Kiss Yourself
| Goodbye"
"Oh, by George, you're right!'' cried Mr..
| B. Its been so long since I've done any
| singing, you know. Now, let's start again.
I'm sure I'll get 1t straight this time
The hostess obligingly played the intro
| duction for a third time and Mr.. B., upon
receiving his cue, fairly dubbed over with
| joy at having at last thought of the right
words and sang at the top Of his voice.
80 Won't you come home. Bill Bailey. won't you
| come home?
| She sang de whole night long;
| Tll do 20 cookin', honey. III"
| But, Mr.. b." exclaimed the accompa-