" My father used to lead the
singing in Sabbath-school, and when he was sol-fa-ing that tune to
learn it, I was devouring that story, and was just about at the
picture where Prince What's-his-name rises up into the air on the
Enchanted Horse, with his true love hanging on behind, and all the
multitude below holding their turbans on as they look up and exclaim:
"Well, if that don't beat the Dutch!"
And another tune still excites in me the sullen resentment that it
did when I first heard it. In those days, just as a fellow got to
the exciting part in "Frank at Don Carlos's Ranch," or whatever the
book was, there was kindling to be split, or an armful of wood to
be brought in, or a pitcher of water from the well, or "run over to
Mrs. Boggs's and ask her if she won't please lend me her
fluting-iron," or "run down to Galbraith's and get me a spool of
white thread, Number 60, and hurry right back, because then I want
you to go over to Serepta Downey's and take her that polonaise
pattern she asked me to cut out for her," or - there was always
something on hand. So what should one of these composers do - I
don't know what ever possessed the man - but go write a
Sabbath-school song with this chorus:
"There'll be something to do,
There'll be something to do,
There'll be something for children to do:
On that bright shining shore,
Where there's joy evermore,
There'll be something for children to do.
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