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A lyricist moves to New York City aspiring to make it big on Tin Pan Alley.

Page 81 of 195
Table of Contents

Act II

Fred
It’s half past four. He said he was coming back at two o’clock.
Maxie
You get used to waiting in this game. I’ve been in it twenty-two years and nothing’s happened yet.
Fred
Paul’s coming right in. We want to play the song once before Mr.Mr. Hart hears it. I made a change.
Maxie
Whereabouts.
Fred
In the refrain. We had it “Sweet night-bird, hovering above,” now it’s “winging aloft.” You see, “aloft” means the same like “above.”
Maxie
Only higher.
Fred
I wish I’d known Mr.Mr. Hart was going to be late. I could have slept some more. I had to get up at twelve.
Maxie
That must be tough after working for the General Electric, where a man’s hours are practically his own.
Fred
No. I had to be on the job at eight, every morning. But I went to bed about ten, except Saturday nights, when I seen a picture or something. I didn’t know what life was, in Schenectady.
Maxie
I bet it’s an open book to you now.
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