Evening star., 1925-05-21

not more than a block long, our ma
ture intelligence tells us.
There were bears. elephants an
everything. Atrociously funny clowns
convulsed us, as we stood on the side
walk along Cow street. Cow street
had been named thus because of the
fact that the village bovines loved to
lie along that way in the shade dur
ing the hot Summer days)
The lady who rode bareback
seemed the most lovely lady in the
world, with a big white silk bow nod
ding atop her beautiful blond head
Keep still. intelligence. Tell us not.
in mournful numbers, that actually
she was as ugly as mud fence, and
that her hair was too, too yellow!
We know it now-but we didn't
then! She seemed a dream of beauty
as she rode slowly by, and we dreamed
| of her for many weeks afterward--
nothing having been known at that
| time of Mr.. Freud and his interpreta-
tions.
And the elephunts, Fearfully we
huddled close to protecting skirts as
| those animated juggernauts strobe
down Cow street, with each one of
tho three beasts bearing one of the
three braveSt men in the whole wide
world.
| bee! w OuiuH Sou oo oAiaiu "
| ride up there
The parade was nearly over. We
wondered what would be next. We
| were not long left in suspense. Sud
denly. high over all, an utterly I'M
earthly sound split the air
Here comes the cal-liope" screamed
some one.
The folks in the next county must
have realized it just as well as we did.
| With all the power of that giant.
steam, the calliope made the welkin
| ring.
After the Ball is Over" it blew.
To us il seemed the most beautiful
music the world has ever known.
| Even at this date, years later, we
are not exactly sure that 1t was not!
We have heard many calliopes since.
We have heard them in village
| streets and city boulevards. We have
| heard them play in tune, and we have
| listened to instruments so out Of tune
| that the devil himself seemed to be at
| the keyboard.
| Wherever we have heard them,
| however, each and every time we have
received the same old thrill. Beloved
calliope, beautiful-voiced muse! We
have loved you ever since we were a
| baby, and our love is true yet.
We have heard the Philadelphia
| symphony orchestra play schubert y
| Unfinished Symphony" in d way that
| brought tears TO our not too easily
moved eyes. We have heard the great
est bands thrill great assemblages, or
move to dreams out over sounding sea
| waves.
In various halls we have listened to
| the magic bow of Kreisler the deep
| tones of kindlers cello, the moving
| timbre of the voices of Braslau, Bori
| and countless others. In the quiet of
the home we have had music that sat
| isfied the soul.
Yet never. II seems to us, can music
so satisfy the spirit of man as when,
| in the level existence of street noises,
| the good old calliope bu'sts forth down
| the block.
Then, as If under the touch of some
great and powerful angel, gigantic
strains fill the entire air, until the
| clatter of street cars, sounds OF hun
| dreds of voices, and all the thousand
and one noises of the street fade away
| into nothingness. and there is but left,
permeating all space, the clear, high
notes of the calliope, each note her
| aided by cloud of steam.
| One of the unfuifilled ambitions of
our life is to play upon the calliope.
| With our fingers idly wandering bver
| those keys, we wonder if we would
| know what to play at last?
Why, of course, After the Ball Is
! Over to be sure.