I'd lick the fellers that call round on sister after tea,
An' I'd keep on lickin' folks till I got through!
You bet! I'd run away
From my lessons to my play,
An' I'd shoo the hens, an' teaze the cat, an' kiss the girls
all day--
If I darst; but I darsen't!
RUBINSTEIN'S PLAYING.
ANONYMOUS.
"Jud, they say you have heard Rubinstein play when you were in New
York?"
"I did, in the cool."
"Well, tell us all about it."
"What! me? I might's well tell you about the creation of the world."
"Come, now; no mock modesty. Go ahead."
"Well, sir, he had the biggest, catty-cornerdest pianner you ever
laid your eyes on; somethin' like a distracted billiard table on
three legs. The lid was heisted, and mighty well it was. If it
hadn't, he'd a-tore the intire sides clean out, and scattered them to
the four winds of heaven."
"Played well, did he?"
"You bet he did; but don't interrupt me. When he first sat down he
'peared to keer mighty little 'bout playin', and wish't he hadn't
come. He tweedle-eedled a little on the trible, and twoodle-oodled
some on the bass--just foolin' and boxin' the thing's jaws for bein'
in his way. And I says to the man settin' next to me, s' I, 'What
sort of fool-playin' is that?' And he says, 'Hush!' But presently his
hands began chasin' one 'nother up and down the keys, like a parcel
of rats scamperin' through a garret very swift.
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