Word: evenin
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...drawed white lines all over it and drove posts in it and Ah don't know what-all, and Ah looked down thar and Ah seen five or six convicts a-runnin' up & down and a-blowin' whistles. They was . . . And friends, Ah seen that evenin' the awfullest fight that Ah have ever seen in mah life. Ah did. They would run at one another and kick one another and th'ow one another down and stomp on one another and grind their feet in one another and Ah don't know what...
...This here song," the late Huddie ("Lead Belly") Ledbetter used to explain, "was made about a man an' a girl was walkin' along one Sunday evenin'. Jus' befo' this girl an' man got to de house, she said, 'You ask my mother for me, when you get home.' The man tol' her, 'All right' . . . An' he went back to de girl an' she say, 'What did mamma tell you?' He looked at Irene-her name was Irene-an' here what he said ..." Then...
...night recently when the evenin's first "Altrocchi" rang out, three pitchers of water splashed down on the besieger's head. Soon, flares, firecrackers, wastebaskets full of water, and incredulous faces sprouted from over 50 nearby Lowell and Leverett windows...
Paris Green. Come Down, My Evenin' Star was the work of a tunesmith named John ("Honey") Stromberg, who wrote for the revues at the old Weber & Fields Music Hall when David Warfield, Fay Templeton, DeWolf Hopper and Willie Collier were among its stars. When Lillian made her debut there in 1899 in a travesty on The Girl from Maxim's, Honey Stromberg was her musical director. For four years he wrote his finest tunes for her. One day in 1902 Honey, an acute sufferer from chronic rheumatism, was reported seriously ill at his home in Freeport, Long Island...
...oyster and beefsteak gorges at Bustanoby's. John D. Rockefeller once paid $500 to hear her sing it. In 1912, at a Weber & Fields reunion, when Lillian was 51 and over 170 lb., she was asked to do it again. As she broke, monumentally, into Come Down, My Evenin' Star, an audience including Arthur Brisbane, William Randolph Hearst, Diamond Jim Brady, Condé Nast and Charles Dana Gibson blubbered frankly over its boiled shirts...