Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-02-05

USsARs UNIFORM"
while an American flag drops automati-
cally In front of the crimson velvet
screen, and we're all supposed to rise up
Wilhelm Reilly and shout our imbecilc
heads off over the wild, Berserkish pa
triotic suggestion of the cheap appeal.
Then. after profuse bows. the musical
sharp gldss back to his various racks of
sleigh bells and other kinds of near-bells
Corgan' bells and the like) and goes
thu ough that terrible business. The Trim
ity chimes first, of course; then the fiend-
isb Naturalization of The Grand Old
Rag on s'morc bells. All the while his
face wears the expression of a conuueror
That is the pathetic part OF it. The fell
low believes in himself. He regards him
SELF as party possessed OF the goods lie
thinks he is honestly musicking
Hereupon, after lot D the vengeful
clamor OF bells, bells, bells, bells. bells,
bells, bells. as poor E. A. p. would have
iterated, he breaks off and says: Yes
tiddy l seen an adj in the paper for a
man what wanted to become my pupil.
an l answered the ad., an I guess it's
about time FIR that pupil { git here if
Enter the pupil. in biackface. Alleged
funny stun. NV arrival The pupil, pick
Ing up various weird instruments and try
ing EN-. Then. the comedy accom-
plished, the two grab saxophones and
march down-stage
Now, there's something very sweet and
appealing about a saxophone when the
instrument is played In a normal. human
way. There are deep, contraltoish, NOV
ing tones in the thing, suggestive of dry
ads dancing on sun-checked grass. Pan
dreaming upon his pes. Orpheus brood
ing upon the verge of clear streams
Aeolus grooming in the zephry ether. But
do these two hand US any OF those sug-
gestions? They do not. They hurl wind
into the dropping Instruments and we
get ragtime hash for which the saxo-
phone is no more adapted than it is for
being used as tobacco pipe. You sit
there longing for 'em to slow up andant.
little. and do some sure-enough saxo-
phoning. Vain longing. They G.-Cohan.
ize, and that's all. Then they lay away
the saxophone, and one of EN- picks up
violin, while the other roughly seizes
upon cello.
You know what they're going to play
upon these instruments.
It's as inevitable as the monthly gas
bill
The intermezzo from CavaIleria, of
course agayne.
The intermezzo. played all tremolo, with
a sort OF sacchar ne, chocolate-caramel
intermezzo, assassinated to make vo-
deyeel afternoon or evening.
More heart-rending comedy on the
part of the individual working In black
square-cut, one-string things made in
box-factory imitation of violoncellos.
squat IN chairs placed downstage, and
start
xy>I
merei, of course, Traumerei. undergoing
the Torquemada-tortures of the Spanish
inquisition; Traumerei on the rack sur"
enough; every note tremoloed until il
Traumere sugarfied, sloppified, denatur-
ed. put over the hurdles, finally depos ted
In sort of ash-can of chambermaidish
sentiment. Or. If 1t isn't Traumerei, why,
for the very surest thing you know.
It's
Which nobody is denigeing. as Sairey
Camp would say. that there isn't beau
tiful mus cal germ In The Rosary.
But the vodeveel brand OF the Rosary
just can't help but remind you Of tone
written by laura Lean libby. It's vode-
veeized sentiment that they slosh into
The Rosary; which is about all that need
to be said about that
This over, more lignum vitae comedy on
the part of the one doing the dinge stuff.
Then the pair of 'em seize upon comets.
and. march ng way down in front and
leveling the brassy things right smack
dab at you, they blare into
What? That's an absurd question; for
you know what.
'Luh-huve Mum Aa-and-Thuh Wuh-
hurld in-his My-hine," of course.
There 1, and Always was something
unspeakably gooberish, deicatessenish.
tawdllued, t-nseI-g1it. Hoyts-o.rman
Cologne-itied and generally punkerino
about that song. anyhow; but, as
rendered by two large-iunged male be-
ings. blare-blared, catapuitei at and
through a sounding aud tor. um, it's q
song to challenge compaf son 70. the ut
ter, blind. groplng, m.a>matic m sery il
infiicts upon the people who nave to listen
to 1t.
oh. wei, there are compensations.
They don't sing illustrated songs any
more.
You remember, of course. the Prone
thean gloom you used to endure when
the young Teller with the going-soing
auctioneer's voice used to stand hes de
the screen curtain, with 1t Nile-green
and Al ce-blue and Totte-vermilion pic
lures of Mag and Butch in luh-uye with
one another and sing them mow ongs about
Old Manitoba, Where the Sweet Poma-
granates Growed?
OF course, YOU remember And, remem-
bering, you are thankful that they don't
try to hand you any of that kind OF
sy labub any more. anyhow.
CLARENCE L. CULLEN.
DO you understand French?' AT
times" AT time;? When?" when 4
talk II to myself "-Cleveland Leader