(Excerpt transcribed from The Columbia Breeze, Columbia, Alabama August 25, 1892)
An amusing incident occurred in a certain town a few days ago, and that is too grand to be lost. One of our celebrated composers has written a very pretty song,
“I want Rock me to Sleep.”
The clerk got the song and put it before her.
“Now,” said the young lady, “I want, Wandering Refugee.”
“Yes ma’am,” said the clerk, bowing, and in a few moments he produced the “Refugee.”
“Now. “Kiss me,” said the young lady, meaning of course the song above mentioned.
The poor clerk’s eyes almost popped fire as he looked at the young lady in astonishment, for he was not aware of the fact that a song by that name had been written.
“Wh what did you say miss?”
“Kiss me” said she.
“I can’t do it, miss; I never kissed a young lady in my life,” said the clerk.
About that time a veil dropped, a young lady left in a hurry, the clerk felt sick, and the proprietor lost the sale of some music.