Stars and Stripes Forever

- This is your best quality of kid? - Yes, sir. Genuine mocha.

- And the price? - Five dollars a pair.

- Very well. I'll take them. - With you, sir, or shall I send them?

Perhaps you better send them since I'll require 100 dozen.

One hundred dozen?

On second thought, make it 110 dozen.

I never like to wear a pair of gloves more than once.

- Superstition, you know. - 110-

Dozen. You have my address. Sands Point, Long Island.

The name's Sousa. John Philip Sousa.

Thank you. Good day.

Yes, sir.

That, of course, was a much later Sousa-

the Sousa of the '20s.

Composer, leader of the most famous band in the world.

At the moment, however, we are concerned with another Sousa-

the Sousa of the '90s who was a leader of the Marine Corps band in Washington.

Doubtless considered himself lucky to possess even one pair of cotton gloves.

Eyes... right!

- Mr. Sousa's here, sir. - Send him in.

John Philip Sousa, principal musician, reporting, sir.

- Ηow long have you been bandmaster here, Sousa? - Twelve years, sir.

Isn't that long enough to knock some sense into that bunch of German dukes...

and ltalian counts you have in that band of yours?

- Begging the major's pardon, sir, what have we done now? - Bring that man in here!

- What is your name? - Private Little, sir. Private Willie Little.

Little, what have you got to say for yourself?

WelI, sir, it was Iike this. Τhe major knows how hot it was-

Never mind how hot it was. We're not running the Marine Corps for your comfort.

What I meant to say, sir, was while I was sitting there in my quarters shooting craps...

when I got to thinking how nice a cold bottle of beer would-

- Stand at attention! - Yes, sir.

So I went out to the corporal of the guard, and I said,

"I'd like to speak to the officer of the day to get permission to leave the post."

But he said, "Nothing doing." And for me to get my tail on back to my quarters.

So I went back to my quarters again, sir.

Only by now I was getting hotter and hotter and thirstier and thirstier.

So you jumped over the wall and filled your belly full of rotgut liquor.

I wouldn't say I filled my belly exactly full, sir, if the major will excuse the expression.

At Ieast I could stilI walk when I came back.

Only I've got to admit, I didn't feel much like climbing over the wall again.

So I decided to come in through the main gate.

- And that's where you made your big mistake? - Yes, sir.

Because when the corporal saw me, he said something I don't let anybody say to me.

So I said, "I beg your pardon." And then I hit him and he hit me back.

First thing I knew, it seemed like the whole battalion was hitting somebody.

- Who won? - They did, sir.

- Never mind that. Have him wait outside. - Yes, sir.

Now by George, there's a real, old-time marine for you, even if he is only in the band.

But of course, we can't let him get away with it.

Ηe'll be confined to quarters on company punishment till further notice.

Yes, sir. But begging the major's pardon, sir, there must be some mistake.

- That man's not in my band. - How's that?

I never saw him before in my life.

Bring that man back in here!

What's this I hear about your not being in the band?

Begging the major's pardon, sir, I didn't say I was in the band. At least not exactly.

All I said was I only joined up so's I could be in the band.

Oh. Well, that's all.

Yes, sir.

All right, so there's been a little mistake.

But that doesn't change what I said about knocking some sense into that outfit of yours.

- Yes, sir. - That's all, Sousa.

Uh, just a minute.

What was that new march you played at retreat last night?

- "Τhe Washington Post" march, sir. - You write it?

- Yes, sir. - It's not a bad tune.

But that doesn't mean that you can waste all your time writing music.

- Remember, you've got a reaI job to do here. - Yes, sir.

- Thank you, sir. - That's all.

If it's not asking too much, just what instrument do you propose to play in the band?

The sousaphone, of course.

- The sousa what? - The sousaphone.

- I named it after you. - You don't say?

Well, that's certainly very flattering. What in heaven's name is a sousaphone?

WelI, I guess you'd say it's a kind of tuba, sir, only it goes more like this.

- Oh, yes, sounds delightful. - Yes, sir.

Let's hope you can think up some other improvements for the band...

while you're confined to your quarters for the next four days.

- Me, sir? - Except, of course, while you're marching eight hours a day...

- in a circle under full field pack. - But, sir-

I believe those are the major's intentions.

Yes, sir.

Yes, that was the Sousa of the '90s.

Sergeant Major Sousa of the Marine Corps.

But there was another Sousa who, although an enlisted man,

lived in his own home apart from the base.

Sousa, the husband, Sousa, the father, Sousa, the citizen.

Jennie?

- Jennie? - Coming.

What in the name of all get-out's been keeping you so long?

- I was hearing the children's prayers. - Does that take all night?

Τhey were praying for you.

Well, that's very thoughtful of them, but there's no need to overdo it.

Jennie, I want you to hear this. It's a ballad- the best I've ever written.

By George, they won't be able to change this into a march.

Now stop throwing off on your marches, dear. I think they're wonderful.

Of course they're wonderful. But to hear people talk, you'd think they were all I can write.

Sit down, dear. I'll sing it for you.

- No, dear, you play and I'll sing. - I want you to hear this right.

Uh-huh. But please, dear, not too loudly.

- I don't want to alarm the neighborhood. - The neighborhood be hanged!

Come on. Just sit down and play.

Now-

- Ηmph! Start at the same place, dear. - Yes.

Oh, I'm sorry, dear. I can't help it.

I'd like to remind you that when I was a boy I was considered a very good singer.

Oh, I'm sure of it, dear, but you're a big boy now. Maybe your voice has changed.

- Very funny. Very funny, indeed. Τhere. Τake that. - Thank you.

- You're quite weIcome. Now just do as you're told. Play. - Yes, dear.

- Jennie. - Sorry.

It's really a lovely tune, Philip.

I'm not sure it isn't your best... ballad.

Not bad. Not bad at all.

If only your public could see you now.

The very dignified and proper Mr. Sousa.

Stonewall Jackson danced by himself, and he was not only dignified and proper, but-

Oh, just put it down here, Nora. But pious as well.

Which is more than anyone can say for you. Thank you, Nora.

No sarcasm, please. Just keep playing. I need exercise.

I've been cooped up in this confounded house for the past four days,

and from the look of this storm it'll be four more.

- Ηello. Mr. Sousa in? - Who's calling?

- Oh, just a friend of his. - Is he expecting you?

No, but he'll want to see me. Kind of damp outside tonight, isn't it?

- Ought to be. It's raining. - You know what this is?

- What? - Well, I guess some people might call it a tuba,

only it's really not a tuba at all, because...

between you and me and the lamppost, I never did like the tuba...

- and wouldn't play one if I had to. - What you got against the tuba?

Well, for one thing, it's- it's too loud.

So I had this one made with a big, upright bell that lets the sound come out...

evenly over the whole band.

What the devil's going on out here?

Ηello, Mr. Sousa. Remember me? Private Little.

I just dropped by to show you that sousaphone I was telling you about.

- Listen. - Don't do that again. You'll wake up the children.

- I'm sorry. - It's quite all right, Mr. Little.

The children are accustomed to strange noises in this house.

I'm Mrs. Sousa. How do you do?

I'm fine, ma'am. And I hope I didn't scare anybody.

I just wanted Mr. Sousa to hear how good it'll sound in his band.

Do you mean to say you came out in all this rain just for that?

Not altogether. What I really came by for was to see if you could go to a concert with me.

- To a what? - To a concert, dear.

- Τhat's right. - On a night like this?

I always say a concert sounds better if it's raining.

WelI, there may be something to that. Ηmm, what kind of a concert?

Oh, just a concert. Some fellow's going to sing some of your songs.

- What fellow? - You wouldn't know him, Mr. Sousa.

But when I told him I was gonna bring you with me, he gave me a couple of passes.

- Τhe deuce he did. - Yes, sir, right down in front too.

Oh, imagine that, Philip. Right down in front.

Really, dear, you know you can't afford to miss that.

Yes, but how can I go? Didn't you say Professor Estaban was coming over to play pinochle?

Oh, I'll take care of him. You know how absent-minded he is.

He won't know whether you're here or not.

Now tell me, did this fellow mention of what songs of mine he was going to sing?

No, sir. Ηe just said, "Songs by John Ph. Sousa."

- Did he? Well, well. - I'll get your coat.

- Now, wait a minute, Jennie. - What was that funny noise, Daddy?

Never mind. Now run back to bed, all of you.

- What's that thing he's got around his neck? - A monstrosity. Now, scoot.

Nora, will you see that they get back to bed before they catch cold?

- ShouId I give them a dose of something, just in case? - I don't think that's necessary.

- Just see that they're covered up. - What's his name?

- Come on now, children. - Willie Little. What's yours?

- Priscilla Jane. - Who's the big fellow next to you?

- John. - John what?

- John Philip. - John Philip what?

- Sousa. - Junior. She's Helen.

- I'm Helen. - Hello, Helen.

Say good night to Mr. LittIe, darlings, and go along with Nora like good children.

- Good night, Mr. Little. - Good night.

- Sweet dreams. - Good night.

What time does the concert start, Mr. Little?

- Regular time- 8:30. - Oh, then you'd better hurry, Philip.

- But, Jennie, I haven't made up my mind- - Slip into this and button up.

If you're worried about his getting wet, Mrs. Sousa, you needn't.

I've got a cab waiting outside.

- You appear to have thought of everything, young man. - Just about, sir.

- Τhere now. Go along and enjoy yourself. - Very well, dear.

But I warn you, if they start playing my marches instead of my songs, I-

You just get up and walk right out, dear.

- Yes'm. - Good night, Mr. Little.

Τhanks for letting us know in time. And do come again.

- Thank you, ma'am. I will. - Good night. - Good night.