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Show 121 "Well, I don't," he said. As Tip bent down to replace the guitar, she stroked a loud chord across the strings. "Out of tune," she complained. She fidgeted with the strings, and strummed again. "Let me try," I said. I plucked at the strings and made discordant sounds. It was more than a musician could endure, "Give it to me," Caribou shouted. He grabbed the guitar and cradled it like a baby, tuning it, warming it up. He rendered "Yankee Doodle," fast, to make us laugh, and we applauded profusely. It did not matter to us that he slurred. Then he pulled a bench over near the stove, sat down, and sang the most haunting melody I had ever heard: I've a longing in my heart for you, Louise, And I wonder if you also think of me, For your sweet face haunts me ever, dear Louise, And in dreams I kiss your sweet lips tenderly. I've a longing in my heart for you, Louise, And for the dear old sunny southern home, I can scent the honeysuckle and the fragrant jessamine, I've a longing in my heart for you. |
