Phonograph Monthly Review, Vol. 6, No. 2 (1931-11)

24 says, “were not sold but merely used in their ‘phonograph parlor’ on the slot machines in use at that time.” Through the intercession of John Kaiser, who in those days was making “Casey” mono- logues on Edison records, Walter Miller, the Edison recording manager, was persuaded to give young Macdonald a trial, but it was made plain that his recompense was not to compare with that which popular recording artists re- ceive today. “At my first session,” he writes, “I made twelve selections, for which I re- ceived $9.00. The regular rate at that time was $1.00 per song, but being a beginner I was supposed to be satisfied with anything they chose to pay me and, as a matter-of-fact, I was. That $9.00 seemed pretty big for the afternoon, and I had no complaint. How- ever, shortly after that they paid me the regu- lar rate of $1.00 per ‘round,’ as it was de- scribed in those days. Each morning or after- noon session consisted of thirty ‘rounds,’ of five or six songs selected from the repertoire on the list in proportion to their selling quali- ties ; sometimes it would- be ‘The Holy City’ ten times; ‘’Mid the Green Fields of Vir- ginia’ five times, with the other fifteen divided up among the songs of which they needed ad- ditional masters. At that time they made five masters at each performance of a song and from each master they could make from 25 to 75 duplicates before the master wore out. ‘The Holy City’ was the outstanding seller and had to be done over more than any other selec- tion. It paid the rent for many years.” And, although he does not say so, “The Holy City” dogged Harry Macdonough’s entire recording career. Both sides of Victor Record No. 16186 were devoted to it and an incomplete version, transferred like the first from the original single-faced list, was given on one side of No. 16408. It is highly plausible that the genial tenor grew to be thoroughly sick of Stephen Adams’ opus, for in a 1927 issue of this very magazine he expressed his pleasure that the phonograph had progressed to the point where complete symphonies were avail- able and “The Holy City” no longer the height of recorded art. For the fact that John Macdonald’s records came out under the name of Harry Mac- donough, Walter Miller and a typographical error were jointly responsible. Miller object- ed to the singer’s first name as not being suf- ficiently “romantic” and changed it to Harry. Then when the initial cylinders came out, with regulation “barking” at the beginning by Ed- ward Meeker, who turns out (Mr. George Oman, please take notice!) to have been the official Edison “announcer” in those days, by an error the young tenor’s last name was en- The Phonograph Monthly Review graved Macdonough instead of Macdonald. He was completely indifferent to what they called him (“I thought then that record- making was a sort of low-down business, any- way,” he explained), and was content to re- main Harry Macdonough. His acquiescence in the typographical error had one unpleasant consequence. There was at that time a veteran theatrical performer whose name either was Harry Macdonough or who had hit on it many years before (it was he and not Macdonald who appeared in Lil- lian Russell’s supporting cast, as recorded in the October Review ); and he soon learned, from being asked to sing ballads at every theater in which he appeared, that a record- ing artist was using his name. Mr. Mac- donald confesses that writing Macdonough the original a letter of apology was the hard- est thing he ever did, “for,” he said, “I felt that if I told him the truth that I had inever heard of him before I appropriated his name I would only be adding insult to injury.” How- ever, it was done, he and the stage comedian came to amicable terms, and had no trouble thereafter other than that which was brought about by their invariably getting each other’s mail! Having secured a start as a successful singer under the name of Harry Macdonough (which name he ever afterwards used, except for making a few records for a minor com- pany under the appellation of Ralph Ray- mond), Macdonald’s career was given addi- tional impetus by its being “found desirable to make a change in the personnel of the Edi- son Quartet, which consisted at that time of John H. Bieling, first tenor; Jere Mahoney, second tenor; S. H. Dudley (S. H. Rous), baritone; and William F. Hooley, bass. Ma- honey dropped out, and I was taken on in his place. The new combination stuck together for about twenty years, being known as the Haydn Quartet when singing for the Berliner Gramophone Company, which later became the Victor Company.” Of the original quar- tet, I have never heard what has become of Mahoney. Hooley has been dead a decade or more. Bieling, once erroneously reported dead, is living in retirement at Hempstead, N. Y. Rous is (to quote again from his long- time friend, Mr. Macdonald) , “leading what might be called an ideal life, living in Monaco and spending a large part of each year tour- ing Europe.” He paid a visit to the United States about the first of September and had a reunion with his old associate, although he was unfortunately on his way to Honolulu when Mr. Macdonald’s sudden death occurred. After the formation ©f the Victor Talking Machine Company in 1901, the Quartet and