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Updated: May 28, 2025
"It gives me," said Wilson Hymack, "a pain in the thorax. I want to be a composer." "A composer, eh?" Archie felt that he should have guessed this. The chappie had a distinctly artistic look. He wore a bow-tie and all that sort of thing.
It seems almost bizarre now to think that there was a time when even one person in the world had not heard "Mother's Knee"; but it came fresh to Archie one afternoon some weeks after the episode of Washy, in his suite at the Hotel Cosmopolis, where he was cementing with cigarettes and pleasant conversation his renewed friendship with Wilson Hymack, whom he had first met in the neighbourhood of Armentieres during the war.
Looking back, he could see his father-in-law patting Mr. Connolly affectionately on the shoulder. Archie and Lucille lingered over their coffee. Mr. Blumenthal was out in the telephone-box settling the business end with Wilson Hymack. The music-publisher had been unstinted in his praise of "Mother's Knee." It was sure-fire, he said. The words, stated Mr.
"I must buy a copy for my wife. Where can I get it?" "You can't get it! It isn't published. Writing music's the darndest job!" Wilson Hymack snorted fiercely. It was plain that the man was pouring out the pent-up emotion of many days.
Why, of course, that makes all the difference. In that case, I see no reason why it should not be ripe, fruity, and pretty well all to the mustard. Let's have it." Wilson Hymack pushed as much of his hair out of his eyes as he could reach with one hand, cleared his throat, looked dreamily over the top of the piano at a photograph of Archie's father-in-law, Mr.
His trousers bagged at the knees, and his hair, which during the martial epoch of his career had been pruned to the roots, fell about his ears in luxuriant disarray. "Say! Do you want to hear the best thing I've ever done?" "Indubitably," said Archie, politely. "Carry on, old bird!" "I wrote the lyric as well as the melody," said Wilson Hymack, who had already seated himself at the piano.
"What are you doing these days?" enquired Wilson Hymack. "Me?" said Archie. "Well, as a matter of fact, there is what you might call a sort of species of lull in my activities at the moment. But my jolly old father-in-law is bustling about, running up a new hotel a bit farther down-town, and the scheme is for me to be manager when it's finished.
"Where have you been all the afternoon? I was expecting you this many an hour past. I wanted you to meet " "I've been having tea with a girl down in Greenwich Village. I couldn't get away before. Who was that who went out just as I came along the passage?" "Chappie of the name of Hymack. I met him in France. A composer and what not."
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