Between You and Me

by Sir Harry Lauder

I'm never happy, when a gude verse comes tae me, till I've wedded a melody tae the words. When the idea's come tae me I'll sit doon at the piano and strum it ower and ower again, till I maun mak' everyone else i' the hoose tired. 'Deed, and I've been asked, mair than once, tae gie the hoose a little peace.

I dinna arrange my songs, I needn't say, having no knowledge of the principles. But always, after a song's accompaniment has been arranged for the orchestra, I'll listen carefully at a rehearsal, and often I can pick out weak spots and mak' suggestions that seem to work an improvement. I've a lot of trouble, sometimes, wi' the players, till they get sae that they ken the way I like my accompaniment tae be. But after that we aye get alang fine together, the orchestra and me.

CHAPTER XXII

I've talked a muckle i' this book aboot what I think. Do you know why? It's because I'm a plain man, and I think the way plain men think all ower this world. It was the war taught me that I could talk to folk as well as sing tae them. If I've talked tae much in this book you maun forgie me—and you maun think that it's e'en yor ain fault, in a way.

During the war, whiles I'd speak aboot this or that after my show, people paid an attention tae me that wad have been flattering if I hadn't known sae well that it was no to me they were listening. It wasna old Harry Lauder who interested them—it was what he had to tell them. It was a great thing to think that folk would tak' me seriously. I've been amusing people for these many years. It seemed presumptuous, at first, when I set out to talk to them of other and more serious things.

"Hoots!" I said, at first, when they wanted me tae speak for the war and the recruiting or a loan. "They'll no be wanting to listen tae me. I'm just a comedian."

"You'll be a relief to them, Harry," I was told. "There's been too much serious speaking already."

Weel, I ken what they meant. It's serious speaking I've done, and serious thinking. But there's nae harm if I crack a bit joke noo and again; it makes the medicine gae doon the easier. And noo the medicine's swallowed. There's nae mair fichting tae be done, thank God! We've saved the hoose our ancestors built.

But its walls are crackit here and there. The roof's leaking. There's paint needed on all sides. There's muckle for us tae do before the' hoose we've saved is set in order. It's like a hoose that's been afire. The firemen come and play their hose upon it. They'll put oot the fire, a' richt. But is it no a sair sicht, the hoose they leave behind them when they gae awa'?

Ye'll see a wee bit o' smoke, an hour later, maybe, coming frae some place where they thocht it was a' oot. And ye'll have tae be taking a bucket of water and putting oot the bit o' fire that they left smouldering there, lest the whole thing break oot again. And here and there the water will ha' done a deal of damage. Things are better than if the fire had just burnt itself oot, but you've no got the hoose you had before the fire! 'Deed, and ye have not!