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Updated: June 11, 2025
They played there while we were at dinner, and the Christian Chinese feasted at Sing Song's house. Julia had her little party in her school-room, and dinner from our table: some of the grown-up schoolboys and Polly. We had Mr. and Mrs. Koch, Mr. and Mrs. Owen, Mr. Zehnder, and Mrs. Crookshank at our table. Papa counted that ninety-seven people were fed on the mission premises on Christmas Day.
I know it when I see it. I want to get away from this cabaret thing. There's nothing in it for a man of my talent. I'm gunning for vaudeville. But they won't book me without a tryout. And when they hear my voice they Well, if me and you work together we can fool 'em. The song's great. And my makeup's one of these av-iation costumes to go with the song, see?
It sails on the lotus-leaf down the sacred waters of the Ganges, and the eyes of the Hindoo girl glisten on seeing it. The bird Phoenix! Dost thou not know it? The bird of Paradise, song's sacred swan! It sat on the car of Thespis, like a croaking raven, and flapped its black, dregs-besmeared wings; over Iceland's minstrel-harp glided the swan's red, sounding bill.
'Madam, I have learned of no wandering harper: your ladyship means mistress Amanda's Welsh song! shall I call her? said Dorothy, disappointed. 'I mean thee, and thy song, thou green linnet! rejoined lady Margaret. 'What song was it of which I said to thee that the singer deserved, for his very song's sake, that whereof he made his moan? Whence thou hadst it, from harper or bagpiper, I care not.
So we stood, she smiling and I dripping, while the blackbird, robbed of the song's ending, took up his own tale anew, and, being now on his mettle, tried a few variations. So, for all power I had of speech, might we have stood until to-day had not the voice repeated "How can I thank you?" I looked up. Yes, she was beautiful, past all criticism not tall, but in pose and figure queenly beyond words.
With rapturous awe, in wonder lost, The wanderer hearkens to the sound; From cliff to cliff he hears it tossed, Yet knows not whither it is bound: 'Tis thus that song's bright waters pour From sources never known before. In union with those dreaded ones That spin life's thread all-silently, Who can resist the singer's tones? Who from his magic set him free?
When Farley had been carried into the house, Ted called Kit to him and said: "Kit, I wish you'd ride over to Suggs' ranch and tell Billy Sudden that his protégé is over here with his hide peppered with bird shot, and ask him to ride over and take a look at him." During breakfast they related to Stella the story of Song's wolf hunt in the chicken house, and the result.
Tracy looked significantly at Julian, and thus addressed her ever stern-eyed lord: "So, general, the old song's coming true to us, I find, as to other folks, who once were young together: "'And when with envy Time, transported, seeks to rob us of our joys, You'll in your girls again be courted, and I'll go wooing in my boys." So said or sung the flighty Mrs. Tracy.
He sang more from an artistic than a religious impulse. That he delighted in the song for the song's own sake is manifest; and this is shown in the variety of his treatment, and the delicate sense of music which determined his choice of metre. His descriptive writing is full of picturesque expression.
But I ken fine how a song's made when once you have the idea! It's by hard work, and in no other way. There's nae sic a thing as writing a song easily not a song folk will like. Don't let anyone tell you any different or else you may be joining those who are sae sure I've refused the best song ever written theirs! The ideas come easily aye!
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