Life — May 12, 1910 — page 27: what you’re looking at

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

“LIP E* How “Ruby” Played BY AN ANONYMOUS AUTHOR D BROWNIN, when visiting New York, goes to hear J Rubinstein, and gives the following description of his playing : Well, sir, he had the blamdest, biggest, catty-cornedest pianner you ever laid eyes on; somethin’ like a distracted billiard table on three legs. The lid was hoisted, and mighty well it was. If it hadn't been he'd a tore the entire inside clean out and scattered ‘em to the four winds of heaven. Played well? You bet be did; but don’t interrupt me. When he first set down, he ‘peared to keer mighty little ‘bout playin’, and wisht he hadn't come. He tweedle-leedled a little on the treble, and twoodle-oodled some on the base— just foolin’ and boxin’ the thing’s jaws for bein’ in his way. And I says to a man settin’ next to me, says I, “ What sort of fool playin’ is that? "? And he says, “Hush! "’ But pres- ently his hands commence chasin’ one another up and down the keys, like a parcel of rats scamperin’ through a garret very swift. Parts of it was swect, though, and reminded me of a sugar squirrel turnin’ the wheel of a candy cage. I was just about to get up and go home, bein’ tired of that foolishness, when I heard a little bird waking up away off in the woods, and call sleepy-like to his mate, and I looked up and see that Ruby was beginning to take some interest in his business, and I sit down again. It was the peck of day. The light came faint from the east, the breezes blowed gentle and fresh, some more birds waked up in the orchard, then some more in the trees near the house, and all begun singin’ together. People began to stir, and the gal opened the shutters. Just then the first beam of the sun fell upon the blossoms a lettle more, and it techt the roses on the bushes, and the next thing it was broad day; the sun fairly blazed, the birds sung like they'd split their little throats; all the leaves was movin’, and flashin’ diamonds of dew, and the whole wide world was bright and happy as aking. Seemed to me like there was a good breakfast in every house nthe land and not a sick child or woman anywhere. It was « fine mornin’. And I says to my neighbor, “That's music, that is!" But he glared at me like he'd like to cut my throat. Presently the wind turned; it began to thicken up and a kin! of gray mist came over things; I got low-spirited di- rectly. Then a silver rain begun to fall. I could sec the drops tech the ground, some flashed up like long pearl ear- rings ura che rest rolled away like round rubies. It was pretty but melancholy. Then the pearls gathered themselves into long strands and necklaces, and then they melted into thin silver streams, runnin’ between golden gravels, and then the streams joined each other at the bottom of the hill, and made a brook that flowed silent, except that you could kinder see the music, specially when the bushes on the banks moved as the music went along down the valley. I could smell the flowers in the meadow. But the sun didn’t shine, nor the birds sing; it was a foggy day but not cold. 7 8 «© 8 © © © 8 ¢ Then the sun went down, it got dark, the wind moaned and wept like a lost child for its dead mother, and I could ‘a’ got up then and there and pretched a better sermon than any I ever listened to. There wasn’t a thing in the world left to live for, not a blame thing, and yet I didn’t want the music to stop one bit. It was happier to bé miserable than to be happy without being miserable. I couldn't understand it. I hung my head and pulied out my handkerchief, and blowed “ ME TWEDDLED-DrED '? my nose loud to keep me from cryin’. My eyes is weak, anyway; I didn’t want anybody to be a-gazin’ at me a-sniv- lin’, and it's nobody’s business what I do with my nose. It’s mine. But some several glared at me mad as blazes. Then, all of a sudden, old Ruben changed his tune. He ripped out and he rared, he tipped and he tared, he pranced and he charged like the grand entry "Peared to me that all the gas in the house was turned on at once, things got so bright, and I hilt up my head, ready to look any man in the face, and not afraid of nothin’. It was a circus, and a brass band, and a big ball all goin’ on at the same time. He lit into them keys like thousand of brick; he gave 'em no or night; he set every livin’ joint in me a-goin a circus. rest day and not bein’ able to stand it no longer, I jumped, sprang onto r seat, and jest hollered: “Go it, Rube”? Every blamed man, woman and child in the house riz on me and shouted, “ Put him out! Put him out!’’ “Put your great-grandmother’s grizzly-gray-greenish cat into the middle of next month!" I says. “Tech me, if you dare! I paid my money, and you just come a-nigh me!" With that some several’ policemen run up and I had to simmer down. He had changed his tune again. He hop-light ladies and liptoed fine from end to end of the keyboard. He played soft and low and solemn. I heard the church bells over the comicbooks.com