EVENING AT A SAILOR'S CONCERT. Specially written for the Witness Christmas Number of 1898.

Otago Witness, Issue 2026, 22 December 1892, Page 17

EVENING AT A SAILOR'S CONCERT. Specially written for the Witness Christmas Number of 1898.

By C. N. BAEYJERTZ.

•• Will you takethe chair next Wednesday night at the Sailor's Concert, and; .will you Bing J and p&y and recite? Pon'fc say 'no,' like a good fellow, I'm in a beastly hole, and can't get any one, except yourself, long enough In the reach to help me out."

This was the bnrden of a letter from a college friend of mine, and in due course my long arms were placed at his service, and be emerged gracefully from the pit which was digged for him. I spent the next three days in preparing an elaborate speech about sailors and their wayß, working with that perfect freedom x which can only spring from absolute ignorance of the subject. This speech I committed to memory— but not to the sailors. I "took the chair," but when I looked down upon the sea of sailor faces I would have given something to ba permitted to " take the' ohair " right off the platform and sit myself down amongst those jolly good fellows. But it- was not to be, bo putting on a bold face I endeavoured to remember the opening lines of my beautiful speeoh, but not a word came to me, all was a blank and ach^ing void. My speech had overflowed with such* apt quotations as Byron's lines : Roll on ttou deep and dark blue ocean, roll ! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain. Man marks the earth with ruin— his control Stops with the shore.

But my thoughts refused to " Roll on," and although " dark " enough in all truth were anything but "deep." I believe that ultimately I said we were glad to be there, and hoped that the sailors would enjoy themselves, or some tu<Sh inane platitude, and announced the first item. Bat it is not of the ordinary musical progrimme I wish to write, although no one could wish a more intelligent and appreciative audience than these sailors were, but of the sailors' songs themselves. After two numbers had been rendered I asked any sailor present who could sing to favour us with a song, and immediately the cry arose: "Jock! Jockl" and a gentleman came up on the platform. At first I thought he was a Chinaman, but he proved finally to be a Scotsman. Lest any " braw John Hielan'man " should be offended at this allusion, I must tell them that when I came here first and drove out with a Scotch Jehu I casually asked him, being German myself, if there were many Germans here. He replied : " No, sir, there's no monny Jairmans here, but there's plenty 0' Chinamen I " Tableau 1 However, we are straying from our muttons. . From the words of the song I gathered the fact that it was intended to be humorous, but it was sung in the most monotonous manner conceivable. The only humorous thing about it was the shrill "Vow," with which each verse concluded. Here are the words of one verse, from memory : — Three men went a 'untin', Three men went a 'untin', Three men went a 'untin', To see what they could find. At last they came to a milestone Which they had left behind. The Englishman says it's a milestone ; Scottie he says " Nay " ; The Irißhman says it's a whole cheeßO, And the half's been e'tten away. And what dy'yer think 0' that noo? How dy'yer look at that noo ? Tak' it oot o' that noo. Fal lal di dal di dey !

The next gentleman was really a very poor specimen of a sailor. He was what very few sailors are, thoroughly conceited. Only once have I shaken hands with a lump of fat, greasy pork that remained placid in your hand, but " Never again, love— never again I " His song was about a " wonderful moosioian " who played upon about 20 different instruments at the same time. He asked me to play bis accompaniment. •• Certainly ; where is it 7 " " Ob, I baven't got it." " How does it go, then ? " He mumbled something in which I was unable to distinguish the faintest approach to melody, I said " All right," and he launched out into the midst of things. The artist pitched bis song in F sharp major, and soon modulated in'o a quite unrelated minor key. Then he oabuly informed me tbat the accompaniment put him out, so I left off, and he wandered on alone, exploiting during tbe four verses almost every major and minor key.

His chorus, I remember, ran something like this:

Then a smart man-o'-warsman came up, and after playing a few chords on the piano, struck up a most interesting song to his,own accompaniment, describing his business and domestic relationship with his father. I think the chorus was something like this :

A big drum, a ketfcla drum, A 'cello, fife, and piccolo ; Piano, warp, armonia, Many more beside ; A French horn, a Sax horn, A double bass and trombone, A banjo, bones, and fiddle, and They all keep time.

Me feyther was a barber, . And he was onkind to me, And I'd be glad if my old dad Would ro to Barbary ; For I have to lather feythor, And this it don't agree, But— l'd rather lather me feyther Than nic feyther lather me.

This song called forth a most enthusiasts burst of applause. The next sailor's song was the best thing of the evening. It was sung by a sailor called Kettridge, who had a beautiful tenor voice, a fine manly presence, and a most pathetic ring in his voice, even in the comic parts. Perhaps the healthiest-looking fellow in the room ; and yet he died of typhoid fev«r about three weeks afterwards. His song commenced : I rang the bell, 1 For Bella I did ring, But her father he did swear" , That my neck he would wring well If I rung his bell ngain, Or put the ring on Bell. -And he .ended the song on a sweot and pure JJ^j^bica might have been the envy of v .*g||ptEe greatest tenors in Dunedin. the -humour of many of these ,aopgß,; which was irresistible when heard, dies/dis,ma)ly away when put upon paper. For- Instance, a "coloured gentleman" sang a song of eight verses, long metre, to a tane which would have delighted the precentor of the Free Kirk of 40 years ago. Each versp was eight lines, and each line consisted of 14 feet, and the whole eight veises were sung at tbe rate, to be very exact, of crochet = 40. Each verse was vociferously applauded, and thus encouraged, the singer did not " haul to " until he was completely baled out of breatk and words. Of course this was irresistibly funny at the time, but- loses much in the narration. Before the evening dosed the man-o'-warsmaa favoured the company with another classical ditty about the descent of Orpheus — no, M'Crinty, I mean — into Hades. Down went M'Ginty to the bottom of the well, We'lLnever see him more, for we know he's gone tor-*-At this juncture, meat on which several "blue- jackets" were, fell to the floor with a loud crash, and the singer politely thanked them for helping him over a difficult passage. No doubt the seat falling was a mere matter of form, and prearranged, but it was extremely funny. After this song he was obliged to respond to an encore, and substituted a song, " How did you lose your arm ? " Of course, some of this is not very elegant, but although I had the pleasure of taking the chair many times after this memorable night, I never remember any sailor attempting to sing anything that was in the slightest degree risque, or la which was hidden a double entendre. And if my readers wish thoroughly to enjoy an evening and the opportunity arises, when they would say : ' Hence loathed melancholy, Of Cerberus and blackest midnight born,

let them visit a r sailor's concert and forget themselves in humour and fun and harmless jollity with those jolly good fellows who are ever ready to forget their hardships and troubles in Snips and cranks and wanton wiles, ods and becks and wreathed smiles.