SONG OF THE SHAVER

Evening Star, Issue 17086, 3 July 1919, Page 4

SONG OF THE SHAVER

AMUSING AND ANNOYING. "There's one strange habit that Mr Momingsicle bus that is very annoying," confessed Mrs Morningside the other afternoon to her confidential friend, Miss Aurora Leigh Browning, " and it is perfectly inexplicable to me how he ever acquired it. He hasn't the slightest musical taste^—l oan never get hun to go with me to any of the symphony concerts—but he has a little repertoire of curious songs that ho sings to himself when ha is shaving of mornings in the bathroom. The words seem to have very little relevancy or cohoreuco, but there is an atmosphere of vulgarity about theiu —you know what I mean—tbat is very dißtressing. "I have tried to get him to shave downtown at one of the tonsorial parlors, just to break him of that awful singing jargon, but it's no use; you know he has got a good many old-fashioned ideas about things that date to our old life in Kansas. Ho won't even use that safety instrument that 1 bought him last Christmiie. If lie would only loam one song and sing it clear through it wouldn't be so uerve-wraoking, but thouirh I have taken pains to make notes of some of bis fragments. I have never been able to find one of his songs in the music stores. And the worst of it is, the children are beginning to pick up some of his lines, and what the neighbors think I don't know." "Well, men are peculiar that way," sympathised Miss Browning, "especially when shaving. I had a brother who used to talk to himself in the glass while he was doing it, just as if he was talking to an utter stranger. I rather think that shaving must ba quite an ordeal, and they do it to relieve their feelings. Have you got any of the words of Mr Morningside's refrains? Perhaps I may help in solving the mystery." "Oh, I know it is hopeless," said Mrs Morningside. "It's ail a jumble of odds and ends that he has heard somewhere in aa indistinct way; it can't be in the cabarets, because they arc usually in such a melancholy vein. Here's one, for instance, that is particularly idiotic: "Two fond lovers sailing side by side, Um-da-de-da, down by the old mill stream, And they never smiled again. "Did you ever hear anything so ridiculous? : Here is another one: "Around her neck she wore a yellow ribbon. For they're hanging men women for the wearing of the green." "It seems bo me that I have heard somethin"- like that—isn't that one of Tom Moore's F It sounds Irish," said Miss Browning. . " No; the clerk at the music store said it sounded familiar, but ho could make nothing of it. Now, of course, you've heard that rather risque song that ends up ' and everything '—you know what I mean." " Oh, yes," said Miss Browning. I really think it rather cute, don't you knowP' . "\v©ll—but Mr Morningside . makes a vather sad affair of it. Here is his shaving version of it, aa near as I could gather it: "Fray pardon and pity a prisoner for life —and everything, But bury me out. on the lone prairee—and everything, um-da, Where the sweet meadows sing ail the day, a-ra-ra. "The nearest he ever came to finishing a full verse was in what I call his 'Nellie and May' song, and he sings it through his nose —it must be when he is—what do you call ft?-—lathering up. It starts this way: "Nellie and May, sisters were th*y, ta-ra-ra, Both from the same old home-de-dah. Nellie was good and all wealth could command, But poor May was an outcast unknown, hurrah. '•'A the worst of it is, that is the very song that little Percy hag picked up, and he goes shouting it all around the neighborhood. It is dreadfully mortifying," sighed Mrs Morningside. "Why don't you make lum learn 'Siivcr Threads Among the Gold' —at least oae whole verse of if? I believe that would appeal to him," suggested her friend. "Oh, dsar me, that's another ono that be has just got a few words of, and I know you couldn't break him away from bis version of it. It goes this way: "Darling, I am growing old, love, Silver's scarce, and so is gold. We most sever, little sweetheart, dah; We must never meet again—vamoose. "Isn't it just awful? It is driving me distracted- If it was anybody but Mr Morningside you might hope to do something with him, but he is the most obstinate man about little things like ijhat you ever knew. They're all odd creatures—these meu —don't you know?"—' Kansas City -Star.'