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Updated: May 23, 2025
"I'm not so much throubled about th' naygur whin he lives among his opprissors as I am whin he falls into th' hands iv his liberators. Whin he's in th' south he can make up his mind to be lynched soon or late an' give his attintion to his other pleasures iv composin' rag-time music on a banjo, an' wurrukin' f'r th' man that used to own him an' now on'y owes him his wages.
He knew how, it appeared, and Phyllis naturally didn't. However, she managed to follow his directions successfully. She had bought recklessly of rag-time discs, and provided a fair amount of opera selections. Allan seemed equally happy over both. After the thing had been playing for three-quarters of an hour, and most of the records were exhausted, Phyllis rang for tea.
He whistled one or two bars of a rag-time melody, and the air was immediately taken up, and then quickly ended with a peculiar run. The first whistler walked confidently up to the fire. The fat man looked up, and spake in a loud, asthmatic wheeze: "Gents, the unexpected but welcome addition to our circle is Mr. Whistling Dick, an old friend of mine for whom I fully vouches.
Instrumental music should be on the same general order, not loud and showy, but clear, simple, sweet, and free from startling effects. Dashing pieces, rag-time pieces, marches, two-steps, and familiar tunes with variations, instead of bringing about a spirit of gentleness and harmony, actually tend to produce self-assertiveness and quarrelsomeness.
The "professor," at the piano, used to such scenes, lulled the nerves of the company with a rag-time variation of "Oh, You Beautiful Doll," and Burke, the sergeant and Annie went out into the night. The girl was taken to the station. The lieutenant looked questioningly at Officer 4434. "Want to put her down for assault?" he asked. Burke looked at the unhappy creature.
There is some dissension between a man who likes music and another who prefers rag-time. Number one leads off with the Peer Gynt Suite, and number two counters with the record that choruses: "Hello, how are you?" From the babel of yarning emerges the voice of our licensed liar "So I told the General he was the sort of bloke who ate tripe and gargled with his beer." "Flush," calls a poker player.
"Listen!" he said, holding up his hand for silence. "I've just composed a tune called 'The Speckled Alligator. It's in patch-time, which is much superior to rag-time, and I've composed it in honor of the Patchwork Girl, who has just arrived." "How did you know I had arrived?" asked Scraps, much interested. "It's my business to know who's coming, for I'm the Guardian of the Gate.
You've dabbled and failed. You've never even earned a five-dollar piece by accompanying some one at a concert. Your songs? rag-time rot that's never printed and that's sung only by a pack of fake Bohemians." "I had a book published once those sonnets, you remember," Kit interposed meekly. "What did it cost you?" "Only a couple of hundred." "Any other achievements?"
The orchestra in the gallery leaped suddenly into the rag-time without whose accompaniment it was impossible, anywhere in the civilized world, to dine correctly.
Moody came out when dinner was over in a fearful rage and made for the news stand. "One of your ideas, I suppose," he asserted. "What sort of a night am I going to have after chewing my food to rag-time, with my jaws doing a skirt-dance? Why in heaven's name couldn't you have had something slow, like Handel's Largo, if you've got to have music?"
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