One evening, long after most people had gone to bed, a friend and were making our way merrily home through the silent and almost deserted streets. We had been to a musical, and were talking about the people we had seen and heard in it.
“That show made him a star overnight,” said my friend about one of them. “He was completely unknown before. And now thousands of teenagers send him chocolates and love letters by every post. ”
“I thought him quite good ,” I said, “but not worth thousands of love letters daily. As a matter of face, one of his songs gave me a pain.”
“What was that?”my friends asked.”Sing it to me.”
I burst into a parody of the song,
“Be quiet, for heaven’s sake” My friend had given me an astonished look. “You’ll give everybody a fright and wake people up for miles around. Besides , they’ll think you a drunkard, and me too, probably. And then we’ll have a policeman after us.”
“Never mind,” I said, intoxicated more with the sound of my own voice than with the few drinks we had. “I don’t care. What does it matter?” and I went on singing him the latest tunes at the top of my voice.
Presently there came behind us the sound of a heavy tread , and before you could say”Jack Robinson”, a policeman was standing in front of me, his notebook open, and a determined look on his face.
“Excuse me , sir.” He said “you have a remarkable voice, if I say so Who taught you singing? I’d very much like to find someone who can give my daughter singing lessons. Would you be kind enough to tell me your name and address? Then my wife or I would drop you a line and we could discuss the matter.”