The Roswell daily record. [volume] (Roswell, N.M.) 1903-current, 1906-04-27
oTE SONG WRITER.
William S. Hays at Last Speaks of
Himself and His Verses that Have
Thrilled the World.

Thrilled the World.
The voice of Will S. Hays, the
sweetest singer of Southern songs, is
nearing the time that it will be hush
ed forever. On January 20, he celebrat
ed the 74th anniversary of his birth.
There is in the entire Southland,
perhaps, no better-known man than
editor of the Louisville Courier-Journ-
al. and friend OF every man., woman
and child in the Blue Grass State.
From the pen of this gifted man
flowed such famous melodies of the
olden time as ''Mollie Darling" Keep
in de Middle of de Road" "Old Fash
Toned Roses are Sweetest" "Shamus
O'Brien," Evangeline," Mora o.
Neill," Little Old Cabin in de Lane"
I'll Remember, You, Love in My
Prayers n a multitude of others
that are still sung in every land
where there is a written language.
Every one of my songs" said Col.
Hays, means something" There was
a reason for its being written. OF
course, 'Mollie Darling had the great
est vogue There was a time it
was sung everywhere in America and
| have heard it in England, France.
Germany, Italy and Spain.
There is a very pretty little story
connected with the writing of this
song, if you care to e it. | had
haon uritino conoc for Soma vaarc
and once a veal | took a batch of
them to New York to sell them to a
music dealer. The firm. / believe. has
since nov to st. Louis. AT h time
of which l speak, I had ten songs.
with the words and music, and / start
ed up the river on a steamboat, intend
ing to go as far as Pittsburs. 1 was
taken i'll of pneumonia, and they car
ried me ashore to the Monongahela
house. There | was i'll for several
weeks and was close to the shining
portals.
My attendant was an irish girl
named Mollie. h vas a bright spark
ling. rosy-cheeked creature, just from
the Emerald Isle, m she never seem
ed to weary of ministering to my
wants. A mailman on the same floor
was an Irisnman named Pat. 1t was
not long until / learned they were
on each other.
lone evening the doctor told me
if l were real good the next morn
ing he would be willing for me to-
1pauQ INV hQ1 and oO down fo din.
ner. l was delighted, for I longed to
see the river and hear the splash of
the buckets as they doused into the
waters. 1t was dark but the lights
were not lit and the door of my room
was open. Directly in front of my
door was a big deep window. and
in this Mollie and Pat were sitting
about as close as it was possible for
them to get. They thought me asleep
and l suppose I ought to have been.
81 heard Pat whisper, DO you love
me, Mollie darIin'?' Mollie made no
reply and only nestled closer. Let
your answer be a kiss whispered
Pat.
There was a slight scuffe in the
window n then they went away.
all through hat night the words |
kept running through my mind, Do
vol love me, Mollie darling? Let your
be a kiss l was still weak
and as would have been ex-
pected of a man VINO had been as
sick as I was. Then / began to hum
It to the very same tune that count
less thousands have since hummed
sung it.
I'm the morning Pat assisted me
o dress, and then Mollie came in
o tidy up the room a bit. I sat down
the washstand and scrubbed of
he song in its entirety. music and
III. as | had composed it in bed
said nothing to Pat and Mollie.
80 4