Adventure Magazine Cover, November 10, 1924 — page 92: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

go Adventure fe The drums! The drums! vf They stir us from sloth that benumbs Us Bass-drums and kettle-drums thundering loud, d & Snare-drums that startle and hearten the crowd; Lifting the soul as they quicken their beat, Throbbing with triumph and mocking defeat; Voice of adventure and vaunt of romance, Daring the wrath of the grim gods of chance— All in the rhythm that dauntlessly comes Out of the Drumst Out of the Drums! Tumpy-tum-tump! Tumpy-tum-tump! Hark to the sound of the drums. Tumpy-tum-tump! Tumpy-tum-tumpl The beat and the thud that you feel in your blood— The heart-shaking rhythm that comes W1th the thunder and throb of the drums! R-r-rat-a-tat-tat; r-r-rat-a-tat-tat; r-r-rat-a-tat-tat, and boom! Way for the drums, way for the drums, Way for the drums—make room!” “T likes the drums, but when it comes to playin’ That gets your feet to tappin’, body swayin’; I reckon,” Bill propounded, “I am keen For music coaxed from out an accordeen.”’ ‘‘Show us,”’ a customer demanded, ‘for we’re jake You got a concertina; go on, make That instrument talk turkey, you can do it. Bring out that accordeen and go right to it.” Thus urged, Bill brought to light an instrument On which two weeks of salary he’d spent; Coaxed from its bellows a queer wheedling sound Then said to all the patrons, gathered round, ‘““Gents, the old accordeen remarks as how It doesn’t feel so very tuneful now, But if each gent will kindly name his drink And pass to me the necessary chink, My friend, the accordeen, he says to me, He'll entertain yuh very cheerfully.” The patrons laughed and took the hint; right soon Bill served them all, and then began a tune Upon his concertina. Soft and low The first notes came like gentle winds that blow From off the Summer sea; and then Bill hit A swifter pace; he ‘‘Got right down to it.”’ Some banged the bar in cadence to the notes; While other men were humming in their throats The melodies that Bill the Barkeep played: ‘““My Old Kentucky Home,” ‘““The Nut Brown Maid,”’ em And “Money Musk,” and oh, a dozen more Of good old songs and ballads writ of yore; Then, when he had the listeners in a snare Of rhythm and of music debonair, He played a tickling, tingling sort of air, And with his eyes a-sparkle, body swinging, He lifted up his voice and started singing: COMIGIOOKSEGO =