The New York herald., 1921-12-04
Ra1nblin' Round
By EDWARD ANTHONY.

BY EDWARL
.t~ WE-E-E-E-T Rosie OGra-a-a-dy"-
backyard minstrels usually do not
~ interest us. This one does. His
voice is fair and he plays the guitar well
We are going out to talk with him.
He is a tall dark haired fellow who might
be 32 or As. He is the type whose age 1t IS
impossible to guess. AS much as we'd IKE
to report that there is sadness in his eyes
(this always lends poignancy)-we cannot
We see something bordering on a twinkle.
And we don't think the twinkle is there be-
cause lady has just thrown him a nickel
1t is a philosophical twinkle that seems to
carry the message:
Say. if you will, you pessimists,
That life's an idle questing,
But l defy you to deny
It's mighty interesting.
We are sure of that quatrain. Certainly
the minstrel is nightly interested in what
he is doing There is nothing matter of fact
about his singing playing. There is no
reason why he should toss his head ike
that except that he enjoys doing it. There
is no reason for those animated gestures or
the right hand except that he is feeling good
to-day and doesn't care who knows it. Per-
haps tomorrow he will not be feeling so
well and will play sullenly. But to-day he is
in tune with the infinite and is playing in
tune, and with fervor.
He has q hard job, it seems to us. Back
yard minstrelsy is a tough assignment at
best. 1t must be especially nafd to-day Tor
there is a sting. in the air-(wait, this isn't
the story of a shivering minstre)-and most
of the windows we can are shut. 1t is
no easy matter to make yourself heard with
a frail guitar and not overstrong voice
when your message has to cut its way
through plate glass
But the singer is not worried. While he is
not being showered with coins. there are
few evidences on the ground that he Is
making himself heard to some and he seems
very well satisfied.
IT'S makeup is a masterpiece of mis-
Fl cellaneousness. He is crazy quilt
- on legs. He is Gilbert's wandering
minstrel
"a thing of shreds and patches,
Ballads, songs and snatches,
And dreamy lullaby"
over frayed but brilliant red sweater
we are sure he did not see this in What the
Men Will Wear'-he is wearing an unbut-
toned vest. 1t is not unbuttoned from
choice. There is too much sweater and min
strel beneath it to permit it to come together.
Perhaps he is a Kipling fan. At any rate,
his open "weskit" seems to be saying, "Oh,
east is east and vest is vest and never the
twain shall meet" Over his vest he is wear
ing a short blue coat of a heavy fabric-it
looks to us like a discarded "gob' jacket. 1t
puts the tar" in guitar, so to speak.
But no tar ever wore that jacket as the
minstrel is wearing it. 1t is emblazoned
with safety pins and IL the sun viii only
hurry up and climb that fence and shine on
the vagabond's frontal area we shall be
treated to one of the most gorgeous pictures
of our existence. battery of safety pins
flashing in the sunlight against back
ground of blue coat and red sweater is our
notion of a super spectacle.
80 WE-E-E-E-T Rosie O'Gra-a-a-dy'-
is he going to stand there singing
~ that all day? We hope not We
want to talk to him-on economic conditions
in vagabondia and the merits OF minstrelsy
as a profession.
At last there Is a downward revision, as
one might call II, of his high notes-or loud
tones according to your musical ideas-and
we think our friend is going to stop. Cor
rect. He has stopped and is greeting us.
But not with much assurance. He is not
sure vet whether we are a friend an
enemy A dime removes his doubts.
,,THE backyard singing business" he
says in answer to our question,
"ain't what 1t ought to be, but 1
can't kick" No, he cant-not at any rate,
with his right leg, which is decidedly lame,
q thing we notice for the first time as he
walks-or limps-toward us.
"Too much music in the home is the
answer, 1 guess" he continues. Every
bodys got a phonograph or a player piano
and you can't blame 'em for not gettin' ex-
cited over feller with cracked voice and
an old guitar when they can put a Caruso
record on the photograph or a PaderewslIi
roll on the pianola. In a coupla years there
won't be no more guys sngin' in backyards.
People don't care for It like they used to. 1
used to go around with three other guys
old pals o. mine-but they quit. Not enough
In it for four fellers travellin' together.
'One thing that makes Il bad is that it's
gettin harder and harder TO get into yards
In most apartment houses the jantors have
orders not to let us feiers in. Sometimes
you can get into these yards by slippin the
janitor something, but usually when you get
through you find that you took in less than
you gave tho tanitor and you can't make a