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Lulu White was colored. All the race-horse men went there during their stay and the racing season in New Orleans Their tips were so great until they did not even have to touch their nightly gappings. Most of the places paid off the musicians every night after the job was over instead of the weekly deal. That was because those places were threatened to be closed any minute. The house is built of marble and is four story; containing five parlors, all handsomely furnished, and fif- teen bedrooms.

Each room has a bath with hot and cold water and extension closets. The elevator, which was built for two, is of the latest style. The entire house is steam heated and is the hand- 8 somest house of its kind. It is the only one where you can get three shots for your money — The shot upstairs. And the shot in the room. This famous West Indian octoroon first saw the light of day thirty-one years ago. Arriving in this country at a rather tender age, and having been fortunately gifted with a good education it did not take long for her to find out what the other sex was in search of.

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As an entertainer Miss Lulu stands foremost, having made a life-long study of music and literature. She is well read and one that can interest anybody and make a visit to her place a continued round of pleasure. The Countess Piazza has made it a 9 study to try to make everyone jovial who visits her house. She has, without a doubt, the most handsome and intelligent octoroons in the United States. You should see them; they are all entertainers. Here arc some of the things from my book: Definitions of Different Types of Joints Whore house — managed by a larceny-hearted landlady, strictly business.

Brothel — juice joint with rooms, and a bunk or a cot near. Sporting house — lots of stimulants, women, music. An old queer or cripple serves. Crib-— Two or three stars venture for themselves, future landladies. Clip joint — While one jives you, another creeps or crawls in and rifles your pockets. And here are some sporting women and the nicknames of a few well-known Crescent Qty characters: She marched him around with a.


They had the most beautiful parlors, with cut glass, and draperies, and rugs, and expensive furniture. And the girls would come down dressed in the finest of evening gowns, just like they were going to the opera. They were just beautiful. Some of them looked Spanish, and some were Creoles, some brown- skins, some chocolate-brown. But they all had to have that figure. Places like that were for rich people, mostly white. Oh, once II in a while a sailor might come, but generally only the wealthiest would come.

Why, do you know that a bottle of beer was a dollar? The customers would buy champagne mostly and would always insist on giving the musicians money. Those houses hired nothing but the best, but only piano players, and maybe a girl to sing. It was sweet, just like a hotel. Of course, those houses were so impressive that lots of people would be scared to go in.

But, in the other part of the section, there were cabarets and dance halls and lots of hustlers. There a man could meet a gal, then do his business without any fuss at all. Talk about those jam sessions you have today! Why, you should have seen the sessions we had then. It was a place where they would come to drink and play and have breakfast and then go home to bed. Most of the P. The reason so many of them were pianists was because whenever they were down on their luck, they could always get a job and be close to their girls — play while the girls worked.

Some of the P. And do you know that you could buy all of the cocaine, morphine, heroin, and hop you wanted in the section, almost right out in the open? But I never knew hardly any musicians that took dope. It was mostly the girls who were out to destroy themselves if their man left them or something like that. Another thing about the section, there was never a 12 holdup or robbery that I could remember. The piano players from all over the South would be there, in for the races, and everybody would take a turn until daylight.

I thought I was in Heaven playing second trumpet in the Tuxedo Brass Band — and they had some funeral marches that would just touch your heart, they were so beautiful. They always pulled the hearse, which was driven by a very old, dark, very solemn man who never smiled. His name was Joe Never Smile. On occasions, if the widow of the deceased person was sincere in her sorrow, the under- taker would suggest that the horses be draped with a beautiful lace covering. If the deceased was grown, the covering was black. If a child, white.

The fee for that was fifteen or twenty dollars extra, and it gave the funeral procession a very solemn look. It was known throughout New Orleans and vicinity that these two horses cried on certain occasions. That is if the deceased person were going upward and not below. It was a mystery to everybody, and, on one of my trips to New Orleans, I casually asked Grandfather what was the gimmick. He said joe Never Smile was a very slick character. Emile Labat would have raised hell as he was kind to his animals and a humanitarian.

As this observer recalls, in the days before they closed The District which was , the most exciting form of musical entertainment aggregation was not the jazz bands but the brass bands. The bass beat on the bass drum, beautifully executed by Black Benny, would suddenly silence a crowd of some seven or eight thousand loud and boisterous pleasure-seekers.

The bandmen who didn't indulge would be coralled by groups of admirers and answering questions on the merits and playing abilities of the stars. The most miserable feeling a young- ster in New Orleans can experience is to be in a classroom in school, studying, and hear a brass band approaching, swinging like crazy, then pass the school, and fade off in the distance. You will witness a lot of sad expressions in that room. Now if it happens to be lunch hour, recess twelve to one, when the bell rings at one p.

That is in schools in the barrel-house section. There were many funerals that had three or four bands of music. It was not rare to see funerals which had three or four brass bands in the procession, because a member probably was active in eight to twelve organizations — Masons, Odd Fellows, Tulane Club or Zulu Club, the Vidalia, Veterans, Charity, and a few more. It was more than likely his request to be buried as he lived, among a crowd and lots of music. Every musician in New Orleans offered their services.

On both occasions it was a sad sight to see their silent bass drums draped in mourning, carried by a close friend behind the hearse. The cornet player was the boss. Sometimes it took them four hours to get to the cemetery. All the way they just swayed to the music and moaned.

They just pulled the instruments apart. They played the hottest music in the world. Just six or seven pieces, half a dozen men pounding it out all together, each in his own way and yet somehow fitting in all right with the others. It had to be right, and it was, because it came from the right place. Bolden used Bunk on second, but I never heard that outfit. Oliver called Louis north to Chicago, but that was an exception. Usually there were six musicians in a band: Once in a while a pianist might be added, but never a saxman! One of the Hall boys, not Edmond and not Robert, tried to make a go of the saxophone.

All day and night bands marched up and down the streets playing their heads off. We played sometimes for a local colored fraternity and marched in front of their parade. The whites had an idea of a real king — he came in on Canal Street. The colored people had the King of the Zulus and he came in on Basin Street — dressed in funny feathers and straw — boy, that was something.

But most of the musi- cians had day jobs, you know — trades. They were bricklayers and carpenters and cigar makers and plasterers. Some had little busi- nesses of their own — coal and wood and vegetable stores. Some worked on the cotton exchange and some were porters. It was just about the most musical town in the coun- try. I played my first jobs with Steve Lewis — house parties and such. The musicians had trades and professions. And another, all' of whom were plasterers. They would become apprenticed to their grandfathers and learn the family craft.

Some of the families were half-French and half-African. And numerous families were cigar makers, which shows the Spanish in- fluence. So, if you were a musician, you had a regular trade, and on week ends, or on some nights, you played music. My father was a cigar maker and my mother was a housewife. As a boy, the first jazz I heard was a jazz band at the comer of St. It was called the Excelsior Band. The only musician I remember from that band was Fice Quiyrit, the trumpet player. It was a long time ago. No, no, it was nothing but marches they was playing — brass marches — parade music.

He was the only man at that time who played the slide trombone. It was approximately — well, before He played the trombone and he was a barber at that time. He was living right around the comer from where 1 lived and he heard me practicing my instrument and he came up to my house and knocked on the door. My mother went to the door and she asked him what he wanted.

It was the first time that I ever played with a band.

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I had been eaking lessons before that. I took lessons for about eighteen months. He was a Creole. Now let me finish telling you about the band. Is there any music? I did just what he told me and we got into it, and through with it, and the whole band shook my hand and told me I was great. That was on a Thursday night, the rehearsal, and on the Saturday night following they had an engagement to play a ball at that time the dances were called balls on Liberty Street.

So I went there and I got there at about eight. The hall was jam-packed. I was not really satisfied about their not having any music but I thought I would try anyway. I went and took a few drinks and the first thing you know I was playing more than them! Every number we played the people just clapped their hands. That particular style of playing without music was very new to me. I think it was impossible to me! It seemed a sort of style of playing without notes.

CYR A jazz musician have to be a working class of man, out in the open all the time, healthy and strong. You see, the average working man is very musical. Play- ing music for him is just relaxing. He gets as much kick out of playing as other folks get out of dancing. And with your natural feelings that way, you never make the same thing twice. Every time you play a tune, new ideas come to mind and you slip that on in. It was according to the hours. If the parade lasted from nine a. Everything in New Orleans was competitive. People would always be betting on who was the best and greatest in every- thing.

So they used a fiddle to play the lead — a fiddle player could read — and that was to give them some protection. The banjo then was strictly a rhythm instrument. The marching brass bands used more instruments than the dance bands. And those brass bands could play legitimate marches, the same marches the Army Band of the United States would 20 play for the President if he died. They hired one band during the day — a big military band — that would play all the marches and that would introduce each dignitary of the organization with military music.

But the band was sitting. And between those introductions and the marching and the drilling, they would play some dance music, so they would swing. They played the shuffle beat on the snare drum and mostly two beats on the bass drums. At first, in the bands, the snare drums and the bass drums were played by different men like in the marching bands. There were a lot of private clubs, organizations, in New Orleans. Two or three guys would get together, you know, and make up the club and it would grow. So, when a member of the club died, they would hire a band for his funeral, and if the club had some part in a parade, they would have a band for that too.

All the clubs tried to outdo each other. Like I remember what used to happen when different clubs would go to their camps out on the water by the lake front. There would be one band playing at the camp of one club and another band at the camp of another, and each band would try to outplay the other. You could hear music real well over the water, you know. The bands themselves never went into the cemeteries. Buddy Petit, for example, never did take a steady job. Now, Buddy Petit used to carry a book with him listing the dates he had in advance.

He was his own contractor. Buddy could tell you one year from the day he spoke to you where you were playing if he had a job for you — he was booked that far in advance; and Buddy always got a deposit on a job in advance. Even if the job was a year away. Louis Armstrong and Buddy played a lot of funerals together, by the way. He kind of what you call set a pace around New Orleans.

He was a real leader and he set the pace for a lot of the other bands. I mean these other bands would hear Buddy play something and they would all want to play it. If Buddy had left New Orleans to go to Chicago when a lot of the other men left. As time went on, there was more improvising. I started on guitar, not clarinet, in , when I was seventeen. My father was a musician. His name was Edward Hall. Some book- ing agent brought the band to New York that year.

I remember my father telling me they were in New York eighteen days. The last member of the band who was living, by the way, died a few months ago. He 22 was the tuba player and he was about eighty-three years old when he died. The band came all the way from New Orleans just for that New York event. As I remember the story, every state sent a band. It was a kind of festival, and that New Orleans band my father was in won first prize.

In the brass band, on my own instrument they used to have four different clarinets: The reason for that was when there was something to play in the key of E-flat wc would pick up the E-flat clarinet, and the same thing when there was something in the key of A, et cetera. That shows you how much music advances. Today you can take one clarinet and play everything on it. But the fact is that when we had to know all four the standards of musicianship in the brass bands were pretty high. There were five of us in my family, and when we got to a cer- tain age my father would pass out clarinets.

The first four of us each got a different kind of clarinet; the fifth was too young but he picked it up later. High Society was one of the testing pieces for a clarinet player who wanted to play in a band in New Orleans. The Picou chorus was the accepted one. It was first a piccolo solo in a brass band but Picou was actually the first to play it on the clarinet. Of course, everybody played their own way on the chorus. Nobody played it note for note. But the Picou chorus was the basic one, the first four bars especially. Well, I was seventeen at the time.

He bought that High Society for me. It was a march tunc. We 23 were at Mahogany Hall then. I took the piccolo part and trans- posed it to my instrument. It made a wonderful hit. So the next night we had to play at another hall where they had all the Creole meetings. If you were dark you had to stay out. I made a wonderful hit — Lord! They played High Society all night.

I played funerals too. At that time they used to advertise dances and picnics by hiring a wagon with a big sign on the side with the band playing in the wagon. After that I began to get lots of calls for jobs and got real well known. Then we started whipping everybody. The public was on my side.

The crowd tied them to keep them from running away from us. He was kind of jealous because Mutt came to play with me. I gave him a spanking in a contest. The following Sunday we drove up and we saw Buddy sitting there with his head hanging down and his hands flopping, so we got set to go after them again. And up the street, in another side- board wagon, would come the band from another ballroom, which had announced a dance for the same night at the same price. And those musicians played for all their worth, because the band that pleased the crowd more would be the one the whole crowd would go to hear, and dance to, at its ballroom later that night.

At the back of the wagon were the trombone players, because the only way they could handle their slides was over the end of the wagon. One band get a job in the Love and Charity Hall, another band move right over there and play better through the windows.

For the least sig- nificant occasion, there would be some music. They heard it all the time. Well, in New Orleans, gambling, race horses, being a pimp, or playing music were the sports. The musi- cianship was a little poor. He played it fine and I backed him up with 36 homemade drums made by punching holes in a tin can and using chair rounds for sticks. Those were my first drums and Johnny and I had a lot of fun playing together at home. Johnny was already playing a clarinet before I got my first set of drums.

I finally got a rope bass drum and picked up a snare, and after a while had a full set — all from pawnshops — and it only cost me four or five dollars. So on my fourteenth birthday I went out and got a bottle of gin and swilled the lot, then smoked a whole packet of cigarettes. Then up to brother Johnny to demand to be put in his band. So, at nineteen, I was a pretty competent man, skilled in all forms of drum technique. Perhaps I should put the fans right on the point about my brother.

Johnny had a fine regard for good music and good musicians and he detested musicians who tried to make jazz out of bad music. I learned in the streets, first learning to beat the big drum cor- rectly so as to know just where to put a particular beat and make it fit with the music. Later I graduated to side drum. We were a brass band then and used a couple of piccolos and clarinets.

Why, even Johnny played in that band and they were all good men. When I got there, they had sold out all the violins, so I bought the fife. When I was sixteen years old, I got a real clarinet. When I was a little better than ten years old, my father bought me a real banjo from New Orleans. We used to go out on the bridge and practice. We had a homemade violin, bass viol, guitar, banjo — splayed on a chair for drums.

We saved all the money we made, except for fifteen cents a piece for carfare, so we could buy good instruments later. We saved the money and I decided to give picnics with beer, salad — fifteen cents to come in and dance. We used to go down to New Orleans week ends to hear the different bands that played in the parks.

Bolden was one I heard and Edward Clem who had four or five pieces. He played something like Bolden — just passed through sometimes on an excursion. I had just come from the music store where I bought a trombone and was trying it out. He was on the side- 28 walk and heard me playing and knocked at the door. How would you like to come and play with me? I had to go back home. I was about fourteen then, the year before I moved to New Orleans. This combination sounded like a symphony to me, because in those days all I heard was classical selections.

The next instru- ment tried was the harmonica at the time I was five years old.

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When I mastered this instrument, I set out to whip the world and conquer all instruments. We always had some kinds of musical instruments in the house, including guitar, drums, piano, trombone, and so forth and so on. We had lots of them and everybody always played for their pleasure, whatever one desired to play. We always had ample time that was given us in periods to rehearse our lessons, anyone that was desirous of accepting lessons.

At the age of seven, I was considered among the best guitarists around, and sometimes I played in the string bands that were common at the time. These little three-piece combinations, con- sisting of bass, mandolin, and guitar, used to play serenades at late hours, from twelve to two, at the houses of friends.

There was plenty of liquor in those old-time New Orleans homes and they were liberal about entertaining us musi- 29 Clans. Soon the family would be up, all the friends would be informed, and a festival would be on.

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Of course, folks never had the idea they wanted a musician in the family. They always had it in their minds that a musician was a tramp, trying to duck work, with the exception of the French opera house players which they patronized. As a matter of fact, I, myself, was inspired to play piano by going to a recital at the French opera house. There was a gentleman who rendered a selection at the piano, very marvelous music that made me want to play the piano very, very much. The only trouble was that this gentleman had long bushy hair, and, because the piano was known in our circle as an instrument for a lady, this con- firmed me in my idea that if I played piano I would be misunder- stood.

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Lorenzo Tio, who had made a name with John Robichaux, the Olympia, Tuxedo, and other bands, was my idol then. When I was thirteen, I was taking lessons from him; that man really knew his music and taught me all the rudiments, and he could teach as well as he could play. I also took lessons from Big Eye Louis, another favorite of mine.

I was just like the rest of the kids — wanted to know all about that new music called jazz. I played my first street parade with Manuel Perez and his Onward Band, and that was one of my greatest thrills. I was bom in dear old New Orleans some years ago, on December the 27th, So, now all of you know just where my home is. When I was seven years old, I started to taking music lessons.

I took music lessons for about one year or a little better. I was doing so good in that short time. Professor Wallace he then told me to tell my mother to come over to the school because he would like very much to have a good talk with her about me. She had a good talk with him, and he then told her just what he really could do with me.

Said I really had a good head for music and that he could make a real cornetist out of me if she would get me a cornet just good enough to take lessons on, and when I became good on the old one, then she could get me a real cheap brass cornet.

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Now, me and my old cornet, when my mother got it, night and day I puffed on it, and when I did get the slite of it, oh boy, I really went. Then my mother saw just what headway I was making with the old cornet. My prof told me that I had a long way to go and a short time to make it in. Boy, I got busy and I really made the grade. When I became the age of fifteen years old, I was good to go and I really have been going ever since. Now, for faking and playing by head I was hard to beat. Any band I played with, it was all right with me by music or head. I stayed with them about one year until I got a good chance to get with King Bolden.

From the time I was six years old in Plaquemine, I had been brought up by the people that had the Silver Brothers Hotel, and I learned to do just about everything around a hotel — cooking and all. I could mix drinks and would sing to the guests between meals. I could only play oom-pah music on the piano at that time. I shined some shoes when I got to New Orleans and made good money, enough to get myself a house and some furniture. Pretty soon I was way ahead of all the other piano players — introducing all the new songs. When Sophie Tucker came to New Orleans in about or , they would have a ballyhoo truck.

There was always a big to-do about shows and dances, and the bands would get on those trucks and wagons and ride all over town.

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I was also the first to write away to the North for professional copies of all the latest songs, like Chinatowri and Thafs A Ple7ity. I made those songs famous in New Orleans. I had also begun to take piano lessons from the woman who used to demonstrate songs in the music store where I would go to listen to the new tunes. She would charge me fifty cents a lesson and, while I was there, invite all the other teachers over to watch me play.

They were all amazed. I took about eight lessons all told, and just lived piano — all day and all night. I had a cousin who had a guitar, who roomed at our house. When he was through with it at night, he put it under his bed. My mother went to the store one day, and I was left alone in the house. I had the idea to go under the bed and get that guitar. I had forgotten about my mother and everybody else; all of a sudden she came home and I made a dive to put the guitar under the bed. She told me this was all right, asked me to play again, and called in one or two of the neighbors next door.

They marveled at it. My father came home and I played for him. He liked it so well that, without changing his work clothes, he went to Rampart Street and bought me an old guitar for a dollar and fifty cents. I was up early the next morning at five a. Somebody would see him in Chicago and bring back the news of how successful he was there.

And he was often importing some New Orleans musicians. A dozen books should have been written about Buddy Petit. He was a little, Indian-looking sort of guy. He talked broken patois. But weVe got our own cultural heritage here and we ignore it. Or like the guy in Philadelphia who has that fabulous art col- lection and just lets certain people come to see it. You dig what Fm talking about? When here, in jazz, is something you can hear and enjoy right here, right now. Papa Celestin should take weeks and weeks and tell about his career in detail from day to day, as much as he remembers.

The story of jazz should be in all the schools, so the children would know where their music comes from.

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They should give money so that people could go out West and study and record cowboys and Western folklore. The kids in the schools today think their country has nothing. So they spend millions of dollars for all that other kind of foolishness. You remember that movie. Well, them people took pictures of every segment of New Orleans. They showed the leading man posing for fifteen minutes, fixing his tie, while they should have been showing the people, the real thing.

Yes, he was a powerful trumpet player and a good one too. I guess he deserves credit for starting it all. It was because they could not read at all. And I got crazy to play with Bolden and Bolden played my style of music. I liked to read, but I played that head music better — more jazz to it. I liked to read, and I could read good, but Bolden played pretty much by ear. And made up his own tunes; but everything that he played, I could whistle, I could play. That was in I was crazy to play blues. Bolden was playing blues of all kinds, so when I got with Bolden, we helped to make more blues.

Strow lilies here, and myrtle wreaths prepare, To crown the fading triumphs of the fair: Who knows; and teaches what our clime can bear And makes the barren ground obey the labourer's care. Heaven kindly exercis'd his youth with cares To crown with unmix'd joys his riper years. Or a fit offering to her altars bring? In joys, in grief, in triumphs, in retreat, Great always, without aiming to be great. On the death of Dr. See King's "Art of Cookery," ver. For thus I fall, and thus fell Phaeton. THE lovely owner of this book Does here on her own image look: Then when his youthful veins ran high, Enflam'd with Love and Poetry: Love 's a thing for age alone: Love 's a God, and you 're too young.

Years will countenance your flame. He was contemporaty and chamber-fellow with Mr. He took the degree of M. May 16, ; B. He was appointed preacher of St. Andrew Holborn given him by the Queen. We find by Swift's Journal to Stella, Jan. Then well-fed lambs thy plenteous tables load, And mellow wines give appetite to food.

What cannot poets do? And now, my Signior Strugge Perhaps the baboon introduced in this opera. He took his degree of M. The character of Dr. Parnell is admirably pour trayed by Dr. It is not Chloris: But I will to my Chloris run, Who will not let me be undone: By Swift's Journal to Stella, Dec. Swift, who introduced Parnell both to Oxford and Bolingbroke.

See, my genius goes To call it forth. There all the graceful nymphs are forc'd to play Where any water bubbles in the way: Strange injudicious management of thought, Not born to rage, nor into method brought. And O great grief! Were 't not for us, thou Swad! And he, good man!

At length, quoth he, "Ellis, thou art A fellow of courageous heart, Yield now, and I will take thy part hereafter. He cries for water. In the mean, One calls up Madge the Kitchin-quean; To take and make the baby clean, and clout it. Ellis, the glory of the town, With that brave Captain of renown: And thus I end this famous Coun- ter-Scuffle. How caught, how mouz'd, and what they are, This picture lively doth declare. Nothing, but light rhymes, Not tun'd as are St. Lay, Hocus-Pocus King's Juggler. If not, fley off his cloak or hat! Sorrow has made me dry: Thus then they met, and hold thus late Their drillings.

How did they this? Here's law in lumps. The Two-penny ward Leapt up, and fell a-dancing hard: Quoth he, "Being met by a mad crew. We, but for thee, had been undone: The Rats into the trap that fell This night were few: Seventeen of his plays are enumerated by Jacob. See Dennis's Letters, , vol. Crowne was author of two other poems, called "Pandion and Amphiginia," and "Daeneids. Woes for thee this provoking crime provides. Sir, if you go, you'll murder all your meat. To him do all Church-officers repair; At his command the Sexton rings to prayer. Robes are often half the Dean: One in this office half a Dean ordains, O'er half a Dean as Dean he proudly reigns.

If once to murmur the proud Chanter dare, The wretch with forty biting actions tear. Prelates are known by might. Birds promis'd good, which freely peck'd their crumbs; Sure no ill augury could now be read, This red-beak'd bird from liquor never fled. NOW Night was in the middle of her reign: Ravens, and all the prophets of the air, Nightly to dormitories near repair: Night for her healing touch Nature enthrones, She often cures both crazy minds and bones.

Kings fall'n with care below e'en common men, She re-anoints, and makes them kings again. He was as vigorous as they in mind, But age and gout detain'd him far behind. However, imitate their virtues great, Let not an Owl compel you to retreat. Gerot, to calm him, his rich habit brings: Awaken rich fat Canons before day? Th' attempt is rare, the deed was never known. Some believ'd thunder broke into the room, Others half fear'd it was the day of doom. Catalogue Persistent Identifier https: You must be logged in to Tag Records. In the Library Request this item to view in the Library's reading rooms using your library card.

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