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MUSIC TRADE REVIEW.
OUR MR. BILL HAS A DREAM.
[
HAD a dream the other night which has since
continued so vividly before my mind that, in
hopes I may get rid of the thoughts, I have decided
to place them on paper. As dreams are said to go
by contraries, of course there can be no harm in this.
Strange as it may seem, I dreamed that once upon a
time I was in the employ of the Musical Courier. My
salary was small, and I found it hard work to meet
my expenses. I had not been paid for two months,
and coming to the office one day found Mr. Blumen-
berg, the financial man, alone. I told him of the
necessity of having some money at once. " I too am
short," replied Blumenberg, " s o get out the books
and we will go through them and see who we can
strike for some cash." I opened the ledger and com-
menced calling off the names from beginning to
end, M. A. B. writing down those considered to be of
a "soft" nature. When I had finished Blumenberg
folded up this list; jammed it into his vest pocket,
and said: "Follow me and I'll show you how I do
it." The first firm called upon was that of Chicker-
ing & Sons. Blumenberg entered the warerooms,
and, giving Mr. Gildemeester a sly wink, was soon
enabled to get him in a corner. After about fifteen
minutes' conversation, during which there was con-
siderable gesticulating, he returned to me and said :
" I t ' s no go; they, too, like us, are hard up, and
then, you know, Gildemeester paid me in advance,
last week, the $250 quarterly amount for my silence
on the action business. I can't make him comedown
again; but never mind, we will go right above here,
on the same side of the street, and see what we can
do with the Harp Stop people. I haven't had a puff
in for them for two weeks, and I always hit them for
a $50 snap when I do hit them. Perhaps they will
want their Harp Stop written up for the fifty first
time this year. If they do, all I will have to do is to
cut out one of my back articles and let the office boy
rearrange it. You just wait here on the steps; it
won't take me long." After about a half hour's wait
Blumenberg reappeared looking very crestfallen.
" I t ' s no go," says he; " Freund was just in here
and has scooped them for an artiele on their new
catalogue." We passed down Fifth avenue and up
Fourteenth street until we came opposite McEwen's.
Up to this time Blumenberg had not opened his
mouth since leaving the Harp Stop firm, but when he
glanced up and saw the sign he burst out with the
exclamation: " What an infernal fool I was to pitch
into MoEwen without any cause! Do you know
whenever I got hard up I used to go to him and say:
'Mac, lend me fifty until next week?' He always
came down like a little man, and, what is better, in-
variably took it out in'extras'afterward. That's
all past now. I have kind of fixed it up with him,
but Mac has never taken kindly to me since. I guess,
though, we can make it over to Sohmer's. You know
he is building a new factory, and I will write up his
proposed factory, the same as I did with Guild
some yearsago. It don'tmake any difference whether
it is ever completed or not as long as we get the
ducats." Not caring to go in with Blumenberg, I
waited outside and did not have long to wait before
Blumenberg came out more downhearted than ever.
" It's no go," says he, " Sohmer's wholesale trade is
dropping off, and he is now pushing his retail busi-
ness alone. I wish Charley Briggs, of Boston, was
in town, and I would write him an article stating
how his trade had increased since he has taken the
road. He's very susceptible to that kind of guff.
That's how I do it in Boston. I can't think of any
one else here, as these I have called upon are my
softest ones. The only way I see is to go down to
Mould's, open a bottle of wine and draw a draft at
ten days on Charley in Boston. He'll meet it, I am
sure, for I am the only one that will give him taffy,
and he will not dare protest it; and then, you know,
I make my regular weekly trip to Boston in the
morning, and I will fix it all up with him."
At this period I awoke with a dripping perspira-
tion and as weak as a mouse from witnessing
Blumenberg's efforts to obtain cash. I tell you, gen-
tlemen of the trade, I would not pass through an-
other such night, if I could help it, for a fortune, and
if I must dream in the future I hope it will be of the
Music TBADE REVIEW, when I know my awakening
will be more pleasant.
THE COLUMBIA BICYCLE CALENDAR FOR
1887.
HE Columbia Bicycle Calendar for 1887, just
issued by the Pope Manufacturing Co., of Bos-
ton, is a truly artistic and elegant work in
chromo-lithography and the letterpress. Each day of
the year appears upon a separate slip with a quota-
tion pertaining to 'cycling from leading publications
and prominent personages. The notable 'cycling
events are given; and concise opinions of the highest
medical authorities; words from practical wheelmen,
including clergymen and other professional gentle-
men ; the rights of 'cyclers upon the roads ; general
wheeling statistics; the benefits of tricycling for
ladies; extracts from "cyclingpoems; and much other
information interesting alike to the 'cycler and to
the general reader. In fact it is in miniature a vir-
tual encyclopedia upon this universally utilized
modern steed. The calendar proper is mounted upon
a back of heavy board, upon which is exquisitely ex-
ecuted in oil color effect, by G. H. Buek, of New
York, an allegorical scene, representing the earth
resting among the clouds, with Thomas Stevens, in
heroic size, mounted upon his Columbia bicycle, cir-
cumbicycling the globe. The atmospheric lights and
shades of sunlight and moonshine are charmingly
vivid, yet artistically toned and softened. A smaller
portion of the board is devoted to a picture of a
mounted lady tricycler, speeding over a pleasant
country road. As a work of convenient art, the
Columbia Calendar is worthy of a place in office,
library or parlor.
T
it has an affinity for the oxygen of the atmosphere
and reverts to its acid base, which is injurious to the
leather.
When a ready remedy is demanded for a slipping
belt, the powder known as whiting, sprinkled spar-
ingly on the ineide of the belt, is least harmful of
any similar application. Powdered rosin is bad, as
it soon dries the leather and cracks the belt, while
it is difficult to get it out of the leather; whereas
whiting may be wiped off or washed out with water.
The use of water on belts, preliminary to oiling, is
good. The belt should be washed on shutting down
at night—or Saturday, after the close of work, is
better—and then the oil applied when the belt is
partially dry. Never oil or wash a belt while
stretched on the pulleys. If iron-faced pulleys were
always lagged with leather, there would be little
complaint of the slipping of belts. But often this
slipping is due to too much strain on the belt; there
is economy in running wide belts—wider than is the
usual practice. Many a three-inch belt has to do
duty for a four-inch belt, to the annoyance of the
operator and the ruin of the belt.—Scientific Amer-
ican.
WAGES OF LABORERS ONE HUNDRED
YEARS AGO.
I
N 1793 the Schuylkill & Susquehanna Canal Com-
pany advertised for workmen, offering $5 a
month for the winter months and $6 for summer,
with board and lodging^ The next year there was a
debate in the House of Representatives, which
brought out the fact that soldiers got but $3 a
month. A Vermont member, discussing the propo-
sal to raise it to $4, said that in his State men were
hired for £18 a year, or $4 a month, with board and
clothing. Mr. Wadsworth, of Pennsylvania, said :
" In the States north of Pennsylvania the wages of
the common laborer are not upon the whole, super-
ior to those of the common soldier."
MORE ABOUT M'CAMMON.
TOLEDO, O., Dec. 10, 1886.
73 Langdon street.
MESSRS. BILL & CAER,
22 East Seventeenth street, New York :
GENTLEMEN : In the last two issues of the REVIEW
MUSIC AND MATERNITY.
ADIES who expect to remain good singers must
not expect to have babies. This is well settled.
There never was yet a prima donna who sang
as well after maternity as before; very few sang as
well after marrying as before. Gerster has had a
baby, and is now reported to have lost her voice.
Sembrich has a baby, too. The effect in the latter
case may not be disastrous, but it will be deterior-
rating. Patti made her fame before she was mar-
ried. She is one of the few great singers who has
preserved the freshness of her voice after a matri-
monial adventure. ParepaKosa made her name and
fortune before she married her little manager. The
same is true of Nilsson. Neither had children.
Jenny Lind lost her voice when she married and had
babies. Clara Louise Kellogg, knowing the risk,
concluded not to marry. Nevada, everybody knows,
has a baby. The result on her vocal chords has not
yet been announced. Further illustration is un-
necessary. When a woman gets married and has a
baby some of her vocal talent is sacrificed to the
youngster. This is one of the mean things in crea-
tion, for while the public may be willing to pay
$2,000 a night to hear the mamma sing it will not
give two cents to hear the baby.—Chicago Mail.
L
SLIPPING OF LEATHER BELTS.
HE slipping of leather belts is a great annoy-
ance, not always remedied by tightening. The
writer has known a slipping belt to be so
shortened as to spring the shaft without preventing
the slipping. The radical remedy is to keep the
belt pliable, so as to hug the faces of the pulleys;
but this is not always feasible. The belt may be
softened by neat's foot oil or by castor oil. A sicca-
tive oil, like linseed oil, is unfit for a leather belt, as
T
I notice that you have an article regarding McCain-
mon's transactions, and I am glad to see you handle
such actions " without gloves." But for him I should
have been in the trade yet, with my former good
credit.
Yours truly,
A. W. COLE.
THE NEW CASBIANCA.
The boy stood on the burning roof
Where he for life had fled;
The building, being quite fireproof,
With flames was painted red.
" Jump!" yelled the horror-stricken crowd,
"Jump, bubby, from the ridge."
" I can't," he, dancing, shrieked aloud,
"This ain't no Brooklyn Bridge."
Huge tongues of flame, in fiendish joy,
A-darting out like mad,
Commenced to lick that noble boy
As if they were his dad.
The firemen tried, in sad despair,
That gallant youth to soak;
Alas! No stream could reach him there
And he began to smoke.
Then came a voice of thunder sound
From one cool man below:
" I'll save you, boy—unless you're drown'd—
Jump when I say to go."
Then snatching up the hose he aimed
A mighty stream on high.
"Jump on that water," he exclaimed,
44
And grab it tight—or die."
Hurrah ! With one terrific scream
Out leaped the little kid,
And, clinging on that solid stream,
Safe to the ground he slid.
—H. C. Dodge, in TidBita.