Hollywood (Jan - Nov 1935)

Words by William Ulman, Jr. Song of Love PIRATE SONG Fif-teen men on the dead man's chest, Yo! Ho! Ho! and a bottle of rhum! Drink, and the devil had done for the rest, Yo! Ho! Ho and a bottle of rhum! • It Wasn't the good ship Lollypop in those days. It was the bad ship Black Heart, a four-masted vessel flying the skull and bones at her mast head and manned by as vicious a crew as ever struck terror to the hearts of peaceable shipping in the orchard of the Crosby family in Tacoma. The crew of two were sitting on a dead man's chest, singing loud enough to be fifteen able-bodied pirates, while they swilled down large quantities of lemonade out of a milk bottle labeled "RHUM!" and decorated with a skull and bones. It was all very piratical until the dead man got tired of having his chest sat on by two older brothers and insisted on having some of the lemonade, too. "Aw, shucks, Harry! You're dead; you can't drink rhum when you're dead, can he, Ted?" Brother Ted agreed with brother Ev despite younger brother Harry's disgust. After all, elder brothers have to stick together, don't they? "Well, I'm tired of being dead. It's my turn to be Captain and Ev's turn to be the Spanish gallon and get killed." "Gall-yon, dead man, gall YON! Gallons is what you drink after you've caught a galleon." "Who drinks? Goshallhemlock! I'm always the one as gets caught and you two do all the drinking. . . . Now, lookahere! It's my turn to be captain and drink rhum. I been dead three times in a row!" • The Bad ship Black Heart lay in wait behind a mulberry bush for the Spanish brigantine, heavily laden with Peruvian gold and Washington lemonade. The unwary victim sailed out from the lee of an apple tree and the action was joined. Captain Bloody Harry bawled an order which was gleefully taken up by his crew, Terrible Ted. "Avast and belay! Ship ahoy! Heave to!" "Never!" came the answer from the courageous Spanish shipmaster, "I'll die fighting! . . . Boom!" Undaunted, the pirate ship pursued, "Fire when ready!" Ted bangbanged as a good crew should. In the AUGUST, 1935 excitement Bloody Harry left his quarter deck and manned a gun. "Bing! Bing! . . . Bing-bing! . . . Bing! His brothers stopped in disgust. "Aw, shucks! You're no good as a pirate captain! Pirate captains don't go bing! They go boom! or bam!, but not bing. Bing's a sissy noise for a cannon!" "It is not! They do so! Ask any pirate!" And "Bing" it's been every since! Just ask him. SHADE OF THE OLD APPLE TREE In the shade of the old apple tree Where the love in your eyes I could see When the voice that I heard, Like the song of the bird, Seemed to whis-per sweet music to me: • Harry Crosby, Sr., was plunking on his guitar and staring dreamily off into nowhere, his back against the bole of an apple tree. It was a Saturday afternoon and he was home from the brewery where he worked as accountant. Somehow, it seemed fitting that he should wander idly through a few bars of "In the Shade of the Old Apple Tree." Papa Crosby didn't get through many bars before a large apple fell squarely upon his head. It was not until he heard a tell-tale giggle from somewhere in the foliage overhead that he realized that someone or two of his brood were seeing by practical experiment if Newton and his gravitational discoveries were actuality or fable. Nor did he realize he was participating in what was to be forever afterwards the most precious legend in the Crosby family about young Bing. Mr. Crosby never turned a hair or missed a beat. He continued to stare off into nothingness as though apples were always falling with a giggling sound and hitting him on the head. He munched on the apple and at length called out, "Thanks, kid, that was swell!" before resuming his strumming. Free of restraint now that they had been openly discovered, the two kids started to play around in the tree. At the end of the bough — where they always are — was an exceptional apple that both boys discerned simultaneously. It goes without saying that they both started for the apple with loud protestations of having seen it first. It was just another mad scramble until Ev got Bing by the shoulder and gave him a push intended to convince that older brothers had priority in the matter of apples. They were both appalled by what happened. Bing's leg slipped, he lost his balance, clutched wildly at the limb, missed and fell to the ground. Unless you've heard a bone crack you'd never understand the sound, so there's no use trying to describe it. • The Guitar lay on the ground, gathering the evening dew. The apple tree was deserted. In the house, the doctor had just left. Everett sat at the foot of the bed, looking pitifully penitent and trying to think of something to do to prove he was sorry. Naturally, he couldn't. He was a young boy — and they're always most inarticulate when they're most affected. Dad sat at the side of the bed. He, too, was trying to act as if everything was really okay. "How you doin', son?" "Okay, Dad. ... It kinda hurts a little where the splints are." "Yeah. I s'pose it does." "You were singing, 'In the Shade of the Old Apple Tree' just before it happened, weren't you, Dad?" "Un-hunh." With a mighty effort at light heartedness the kid spoke up, "C'mon. Let's all sing it . . . hunh?" "No. . . . Better get some sleep, son," said Dad as he headed for the door. "Come on with me, Ev." Bing called his father back when he heard Ev clatter down the stairs. "Say, Dad " "Yes, son. . . ?" "Say, I hope it didn't hurt you none when that apple hit you on the head." "Shucks, no, old timer! Just an apple on the head doesn't bother you much when you got seven kids!" Bing grinned feebly, "Thanks, Dad. . . . G'night." "Good-night, Bing." Dad stumbled on the top step going down stairs. Somehow or other, he couldn't see so well just then. Before you turn the page, read what our publisher thinks about this article on Bing Crosby's life. Y <rV^' ■•-. Jrt 25