A DAY WITH A STREET ORGAN.

Otago Witness, Issue 2286, 23 December 1897, Page 56

A DAY WITH A STREET ORGAN.

To this day I don't know what was wrong with him. Perhaps he bad been eating too heartily of the garlic he loved so well; possibly his last meal had been " seasoned " by a rival lover of the dark-skinned girl. Certain it it, however, that he suddenly dropped on fche ground, " squirmed " for a while in terrible agony, and then suddenly became pale, motionless, and apparently lifeless. I assisted a policeman — who, for a wonder, was promptly on the seene — to lift the poor fellow into a cab and to convey him to the nearest hospital. At the door I met the dark-skinned girl keeping guard over the organ and stoically waiting for news of her partner. This I hastened to impart. I found that she was a genuine daughter of Italy — not the Eoglish imitation article — and, being able to speak her native language,' I hastened to reassure her, asserting, somewhat rashly perhaps, that her " epoao " would be flll right in the course of a day or two. Satisfied on that point, she confided to me another trouble. The padrone would be furious if a day's business were sacrificed ; she could not work her " round," a 'pretty long one, singlehanded. What was she to do ?

Now, all this happened in my Bohemian day?, when my ordinary dress was far from orthodox. I was wearing at the time a very shabby velvet coat and a soft felt hat, while the rest of my attire was the very reverse of fashionable. So that when I proposed, half in jest, that she should accept my services as a partner in the day's work the g'rl did not seem surprised.

I was by no means sorry when we halted at the first " pitch " on our allotted " round," which happened to bs outside a large corner pub. I was hot and thirsty, and was going to gat outside a pint of ale at once, but my cjmpanion objected. It was " very bad lock " to spend anything before we had taken any money ; so out of consideration for her superstitious prejudices I postponed my drink, and waited while she took first turn at the handle. I don't think I shall ever forget the first tune played. It was the then popular " Not for Joe," which up to then I had considered rather a " fetching " air. At the close of that eventful day, when I had heard 11 Not for Joe " ground out about six dozen times, together with the four or five others which composed the repertoire of the instrument, I tnought it was the most detestable tune ever composed ; for weeks afterwards I never could bear a street boy whistle it without longing to box the performer's ears.

When two tunes had been played my companion instructed me to take my turn at the handle. Have you ever " ground an organ," gentle reader? It looks simple enough, doesn't it ? So I thought ; but my first effort was such a ghastly failure that the little

crowd assembled burst into a roar of laughter. I could not turn the handle mechanically and regularly. Unconsciously I " timed " it to tbe music, which ia its turn was " rimed " in terribly erratic fashion. My companion pointed this out, and turned off the laugh by Baying : " No bono this Johnnie, molto nuovo — dam'

fooli, eh ?" a remark which set tho crowd off

[ into another roar of laughter, but restored its ' eood humour : and the tin ecalloD shell which

the girl handed round received the first collection of the day, amounting to 4£4. Meanwhile I was getting the '•' hang " of the handle, as one would say, and the jerkiness of my performance gradualy disappeared. At the close of the fourth air, a selection from "Norma," my companion muttered: " A3sai — andiamo," and we started off for our nexb pitch, which was a quiet street, lined with houses of a good class. At the first bars of "The Brotza Horse" eager little faces appeared at the windows, and my companion told me this was one of the best " pitches" on the round. Sj ib proved. And so the day wore on. How my arm ached with turning that infernal handle! how my body ached with dragging that blessed organ mile after mile, and how my head aehsd with the constant repetition time after time of those terrible tunes 1 But my piide wouldn't allow me to give in while one of the weaker sex stuck to the job. About 1 o'clock we halted for lunch. My economical companion produced from the locker of the organ the " dinner " which had been provided for herself and her unlucky partner. This consisted of a remarkablelooking sausage, which, on being cut-, smelled even more remarkably than it looked, and a "length? of- 'very stale, dark-coloured bread. I was invited to join in the repast, but politely declined,. Entering an adjacent publichouse, ' l purchased a pork-pie, acd a quart of " four ale." -The first I consumed hungrily, with an appltite born of hard and unaccustomed manual labour ; the second I shared with my companion, who, if she preferred the highly-seasoned food of her native land, took very pleasantly to " the^ wine of of the country."

We had one adventure that I feared was going to end disastrously for our day's business. We halted in a quiet street whicb, to my inexperienced eyes, looked very nnpromising. My companion, instead of " tuning up," uttered a shrill yodel in front of one of the houses, and awaited results. In less than a minute a window on the first floor was opened, "and an old gentleman with a bald head and the large3tpairof moustachios I had ever seen appeared thereat. " You wantee me play ? " said the girl, smiling. ' " Ve 0 , yes ; play away, play away," was the ready response ; and round went the handle. Beforo half a dozen bars of that awful " Noc for Jog " had floated out on the air, the door of the houce exactly opposite opened, and a page-boy, resplendent in buttons, darted out and ran off down the street. My companion looked up at the- bald-headed one and smiled more broadly than ever, while he nodded energetically and laughed heartily. In a few minutes the page boy returned, accompanied by— a'policeman'l That fucc-" tionary came up to us and- gruffly ordered us to " move on out o' that.", " Don't yon do anything.of the sort 1 " cried outpour old gentleman excitedly. " It's all right, constable, I've engaged them to play." • The policeman turned >ound hnd touched his helmet. "A gent- over the way, sir," he said, " sends his servant and complains of the row, so they must move on." "Nothing of the kind ; I want 'em to play — I'm paying for 'em to play," and he threw us down a shilling, which my companion secured, and then struck up the continuation of "Not for Joe."

Evidently the thing had happened before, though the constable waa^new on the beat, for doors and windows opened, and the neighbours began to enjoy it ; and when at last the policeman decided that we must " move on " the pitch was well worked out.

By 8 o'clock in the evening I was tired on*. My companion admitted that the day's takings had been good. So we halted for a " gquare-up." My share amounted to 43 2<3 ; and I can conscientiously assert that never before or since have I worked so hard for such wages. — Pall Mall Qt zette.