I don't want to see it pretty soon. I want
to see it naow! Oh, ain't it funny? See the old clowns playing on
horns! Ain't it too killing? Aw, look at them ponies. I woosht I
had one. Johnny Pym has got a goat he can hitch up. What was that,
pa? What was that went 'OoOOoohm!'"
"Whoa, Nell, whoa there! Steady, gal, steaday! Ho, there! Ho!
Whoa -whoa-hup! Whad dy y' about? Fool horse. Whoa . . . whoa so,
gal, soo-o. Lion, I guess, or a tagger, or sumpum or other."
And talk about music. You thought the band was grand. You just wait.
Don't you hear it down the street? It'll be along in a minute now.
There it is. That's the cally-ope. That's what the show bills call:
"The Steam Car of the Muses." . . . Mm-well, I don't know but
it is just a leetle off the pitch, especially towards the end of a
note, but you must remember that you can't haul a very big boiler on
a wagon, and the whistles let out an awful lot of steam. It's
pretty hard to keep the pressure even. But it's loud. That's the
main thing. And the man that plays on it - no, not that fellow in
the overalls with a wad of greasy waste in his hand. He 's only the
engineer. I mean the artist, the man that plays on the keys. Well,
he knows what the people want. He has his fingers on the public
pulse.
Pages:
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186