For years and years I practiced —
Tum-tum, tum-tum, tee-tum!
Pounding up and down the scale,
White keys, black keys —
They all fell beneath my faithful hammering;
And then — my pretty neighbor across the street
Put in a player-piano that could tear a hole
Through classics that I'd never learned even to dent!
I was mad — hopping mad —
But I got even with her.
( She was studying for the operatic stage. )
I bought a phonograph — cheap —
And some records — not cheap.
They made her gargling voice
Sound like an imitation with a small i.
Then we both laughed — and quit our exercises.
To-day she's a moving picture actress,
Using her big eyes in a financially-effective way,
While I write things in prose or jingle
Or verse that is free-on-bail.
Sometimes I get by with it; and
Sometimes she does n't spoil a film —
Is n't the public lucky that we did n't
Stick to our callings?