Evening star., 1924-10-13

! the world were lost to us we could get
along very well on the compositions OF
Beethoven, Schubert, Mendeassohn.
Mozart and the rest Of those old COM
posers.
When it came to melody the heart and
soul Of music, they had it, and they will
have 1t forever for time in no way ages
an immortal melody. The most absurd
thing that came out Of the World War
was a book on famous composers from
which the great German musicians were
omitted. 1t was as If you had written a
history Of the late world series base ball
games and left out the names OF Stan
ley Harris, Walter Johnson and Roger
Peckinpaugh.
Then there were the monkey men.
AS far as one can tell now there is
not single monkey man left in the
District of Columbia. once upon a
time no day went by without an
organ grinder and his faithful
monkey pleasing scores Of children
and their elders.
1t was not the music, Of course
that turned the trick. The monkey
was the center Of attraction. Dressed
in his neat uniform and red cap, the
little beast did his best to please a
hard master and a thoughtless crowd
One remembers even now that Otter
one felt sorry for the monkey, as the
organ grinder walled away with one
hand and jerked and joIted the
| monkey on the string with the other
Up on the ledge the creature would
climb TO get the nickel or dime helG
out for him. His furtive, scared
looks belied his gay dress. We are
glad the monkey man is no longer
among us. Monkeys belong in the zoo
anyway.
One snowy Christmas eve an old
bent man, his gray looks vying with
| the covered ground, stood outside the
window playing upon a violin.
His violin was poor one. hi,
execution was even worse, but tn.
! combination of Christmas and snow
| had its effect.
Frostily CLEANED the gas light.
along the street, throwing long shad
! ows over the crumpled surface of the
! whitened ground. where here ant
| there feet had broken through the
! otherwise unmarried surface.
| Tree branches swooned with the
! burden of the snow. while from afaI
came the creak of wagons and the
! groan of street cars trying to carry
on, as usual, against the unusual con.
! ditions prevailing.
| 1t was a cold. snowy eve in Wash.
! ington. traditional Christmas eve
! the kind that has been written anG
sung about for centuries No on,
thought much Of it. except the sensi.
/ tive, and they said nothing.
What can you say?
Nearer, My God TO Thee" PLAYED
/ the old man, as he stood with his
/ feet in the wet snow, and his old eyes
looking up to the glittering stars
where lay the mystery of worlds
| without end.
Summer and darkies are gay. Along
Seventh street passes a colored musi.
clan, with an instrument such as
never was seen before on land or sea
1T is an old soap box, across which
strings are strung, and attached &c
which are various bottles. tin cups
and other articles now doing duties
! for which their manufacturers never
destined them
How could a lineup maker dream
that his strictly utilitarian article
was to become a sort of cymbal for
an accompaniment to "AleXander's
Rag-time Band?"
Then we had the guitar strummer r
nothing loath to attract bit of at
tention on the streets. Today We have
the occasional ukulele player.
Always we have with US that peer
of all street musicians-the lad with
a mouth organ.