Weep and cry.
When your little heart was aching for a mother’s tender love,
Then the Lord looked down and heard you and blessed you from above.
Though they tried to make you bad
You stayed good, dear little lad.
Would God I could
Be half as good
As you
Oliver Twist.
The music is just like that, too. Lower than this—much lower, at least—the popular song never dropped. These songs never become actually, universally popular because the general taste is too high. And I cheerfully set the lowest example beside A Perfect Day for comparison. One type is not obnoxious and the other is; one is common, the other vulgar; one is strong and foolish, the other silly and weak. The case for the popular song may as well rest in the solution of this dilemma as anywhere.