Judge — June 8, 1907 — page 6: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ON THE FUNNY SIDE OF THE STREET. THE MUSIC OF WAGNER. THE curtain had gone down on the first act of a strenuous opera by Wagner, and the man in the aisle seat looked around to see what sort of a neighbor he had. It was a man, and a sad-eyed one, with indications of the rural rooster in his plans and specifications, He was disposed to talk, too, and with an introductory cough or two he began. “+ Wagner,” he said, pronouncing it the way it looks in print, and speaking in the key of «Hark from the Tombs,” ++ kinder makes ie feel like sheddin’ tears. ‘Tain’t a snifily style of music, neither,” he added. + Not exactly,” ventured the man on the aisle, ++ Probably it is because you are of an emotional temperament,” he ventured still further, and rashly. “«Mebbe that’s got something to do with it,” admitted the sad one; + but I guess it’s more from recollections.” “Madame de Staél once said that music revives the recollections it would ap- pease,” ventured the man again. ++ Kind of a case of the hair of the dog bein’ good for the bite ?” responded the sad one, not quite certain. + But that ain't it. I know what does it.” ++ Ah?" in a distinct tone of invitation to go on with the story. “Yes. You see, it was this way: When I was a young man I was leader of a brass band in an Indiana town, an’ there was an opposition band in the town across the river. Well, naturally it was up to us to blow it off, so to speak, in a band contest, an’ after a good deal of seesawin’ an’ sparrin’ for points, we chal- lenged the other band to a blow-out, as you might say. They took us up, of course, an’ for three months we practiced so hard that the White Caps threatened us; but we armed ourselves, an’ kept on blowin’ to beat the band, as you might say, every night in the week in town, an’ went out in the country on Sunday. Then the match came off, an’ it was the biggest time in music circles you ever see. THAT GOTHAM BLUFF. "t seen you for a long time. Where are you we" I've got a house across the river, on the bluff, but I don't like it, It’s too lonesome over there.”* "Well, better move over here to New York—you'll have lots of company. ‘Bout three quarters of the people here live on a bluff."” BUT NOTHING WAS SAID. HE traveling correspondent was vigorusly clicking the type- writer he cacried with him, The man who had made himself [# nervous by drinking booze the night before, and who sat just behind , | the writer-man in the parlor-car, was fidgeting about and looking WS FOOTING THE ‘BILLS. daggers every time the machine started to click. 4 x wa So ainey iehows, Finally the traveling man, who was a trifle nervous himself, . last night. They all stayed until q > one o'clock." turned to the other passenger and said, Passeng “What did her cranky father “For heaven's sake quit thinking it, and just come right out and say this noise bothers you, so I can tell you in reply that my noise isn't any more annoying to you than your stale-booze breath is to me!” “Oh, he footed the Bilis.” The opposition had been puttin’ in as much hard labor as we had, an’ it was a battle of giants, so to speak. We was nip an‘ tuck right through the pro- gramme, an’ the last piece was to decide which was a win. That piece was ‘one of Wagner's best, an’I give my boys notice to blow for all they was worth, if it took a lung. You can't do justice to Wagner with the soft pedal on, an’ he calls for something besides bammy breezes through a horn. The other side played first, an’ then our turn come. We started right in on the jump, like a Kansas cyclone broke loose, an’ shoved the wind in till it bulged the horns, but it didn't do no good.” And the former leader sighed like a hoarse note from an oboe. ++ What was the matter?” asked the man on the aisle. + Had your op- ponents bought up the judges «No, no; that wasn't it.” And the leader sighed again. ++ You see, my musicians was tryin’ to do full justice to Wagner while they was knock- in’ the waddin’ out of the opposition, an’, dern my gizzard! if they didn't blow their horns so full of pieces of lung that the wind couldn't git through them at all, an’ we lost out right on the last turn. We busted our bass- drum, besides. Six of the boys died of tuberculosis of the remains before the year was out, an’ give up the band an’ left the state. I just couldn't stand it. Now, when I hear Wag "—— But the curtain went up, and the ex-leader was too much of a musician OUT OF STYLE. to continue the conversation. wrntias J, sascrro, A leopard once shed a great tear, And sighed, “Ah! my life is quite drear, FINDING HER LEVEL. For I'm covered with lots Mrs. Scrapsby—* You talk like a fool !” Of these big ugly spots 5 7 alk . ‘And stripes are the fashion this year." Scrapshy— Well, if L didn’t, you wouldn't understand me.” comicbooks.com