Awaiting him impatiently at the station?
It's a bed he wants--any bed will do;
The quicker he gets it, the better for the song on the morrow.
But in cooking the news for the public
One a.m. is the same thing as noon day.
So they rushed the star with these questions:
"Not conscripted yet?..."
"How do you like this town?..."
"Will you give any encores tomorrow?..."
"When will the war end?..."
Ruthlessly he plowed through them,
Like a British tank at Messines.
The tenor wanted a bed,
But Lesville wanted a story....
On the platform patiently nestled were twenty six pieces of luggage,
Twenty six pieces of luggage, containing more than their content,
Twenty six pieces of luggage would get him the story, he had not given himself.
Craftily, one lured the reporters to look on this bulging baggage,
"Pillows and pillows and pillow...." was whispered,
"Tonight he will sleep on them."
Vulture-like swooped down the porters,
Bearing them off to the taxis.
Next morning the papers carried the story:
"Singer Transports His Own Bedding,"
But the artist slept soundly on Ostermoors that night.
The baggage held scores for the orchestra.


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