AN ESSA ONTO MUSIK.
"Musick hath charms to sooth a savage.
To rend a rok or split a kabbage."
So tha tell me, but i shud rather try a revolver on the savage, a blast ov powder on the rok, and good sharp vinegar on the kabbage. I haint searched history tew diskiver who giv the first consert ov musik. We are told, that in those days "the stars sang together," but in theze days yu kant git stars tew sing together. We often hear it said, "that such a person haz a good ear for musik." I don't fellership this remark; awl a person wants tew understand musik with, is a good soul; a "good ear" haint got enny more tew du with it than a good sett ov brains has tu do with charity. Musical crickets insist that if the gammut aint rite, the musik aint rite; this is awl nonsense; the gammut haint got enny more tew du with a musick-hungry man, than a knife and fork has with his dinner, if he is real hungry he can eat with his fingers. Musick want got up tew make us wise, but better natured. How much opera musick dew you suppose it wud taik tu make a man cry? Folks will tell yu that such an "overture fria dabulo" (or sum uther furrin big named thing) "waz moste heavenly rendered," tha mite as well tell me that a pumpkin pie was heavenly rendered. What do i care about the rendering, if i don't git a piece ov the pie? Let some Prime Donner, or Mezzer Soapraner, or Barrytown Base, or some sich latin individual, cum into this village, and histe their flag, and hav a programmy ov singing as long as a sarch warrant, and as hard tu spell out as a chinese proklamashun ritten upside down, and taxed seventy-five cents for a preserved seat, and moste evrybody will go tu hear it, bekause moste everybody else dus, and will sa, evry now and then, (out loud) "how bewitching! how delishus! how egstatick!" and nineteen out ov evry twenty-one ov them wouldn't kno it if the performance was a burlesk on their grandmother. Wouldn't it be fun tew cee one ov these opera singers undertake tu rok a baby tu sleep? i gess thare wud be two parts carried tu that song about that time. Suppoze yu shud come home at nite, a weary boy, and la yure hed in mother's lap, and she shud let out a opera, good Lord! wouldn't yu think yure mother was a lunatik, or ought to be one at onst, tu save her karacter. "Korrect taist," iz anuther big wurd; ive herd folks uze it whose finger nales wanted cleaning. Musik, after all, is sumthing like vittels, the more cooking and seasoning we uze, the more we have to hav, till after awhile we kant enjoy ennything ov the vittels but the pepper.—Opera dont hav enny more loosening affeck on me, than caster ile wud on a graven image. I set and gaze, and hark, and cee the whole aujence in hirogliphicks, and awl i kan do iz tu git mad that sich stuff is called musik. But awl the reasoning in the wurld wont convince menny people that tha haint got a rite tew go into fits over an opera tha dont understand a word ov; it iz the fashion tew expire and hav their souls dissolve in latin at the rate ov seventy-five cents, an it haz got to be did, "sink or swim, survive or perish." If enny boddy wants tu go and hear a man or woman disgorge musik, that has more kolik than melody into it, i suppose (under the constitushun) tha hav jist the same rite tew crusifi themselves enny uther wa, for sumbody's else sins that tha dont kno the natur of."
"MAN WAZ MADE TEW MOURN."