He was the opera star in this young crowd, Well seasoned as a wielder of the birch; By neither class nor audience was cowed: He had the gift of song a hundred worth. He sentimental songs could ably sing; But at comics was an operatic king. That night his old time energy was there; He threw his heart and soul into the song. When e’er his name was mentioned anywhere, A gust of high hopes overtook the throng, Because he had been heard ofttimes before, And he had always pleased them--even more. His hearers always reaped a fond delight; Such thrills as e’er a noble singer brings; He had the power to set their souls aright; And on the heights of ecstacy take wings-- Those gifts of voice and heart that others beam With floods of mirth while yet itself serene. The program of the evening neared its close, When some admirer called out Carbott’s name; A dozen called it then. He slowly rose And said, “The hour’s late; time we’re going home,” But leave, they’d not, without from him a song; They called and cheered; and cheered and called along. “Just one,” he said, and took his chair ahead. He hummed awhile as if him to imbue Upon the melody; then out he led To carol, “In the Valley of the Blue.” He sang as sings a sorrow sweetened heart, Which made from some eyes silent tear drops start:-- “IN THE VALLEY OF THE BLUE.” I. In the bonnie Big Blue valley Where earliest flowers blow, There I settled with sweet Hallie In the springtime long ago. And the bright sun in its journey Around the globe never shone On a happier wedded couple Than dwelt in this new home. Chorus. She was happy as the blue birds And as playful as the rills; And as pretty as the blue bells That swayed upon the hills-- When we settled in the prairie In the valley of the Blue,-- I and my darling Hallie In the spring of ’Sixty-two. II. There we sang and toiled together From rosy morn till night, In the clear and cloudy weather With a rapturous delight. And altho our hut was humble Our hearts were glad and warm, And the promise of a fortune Lay in sight in our farm. Chorus: She was happy, etc. III. The good oxen broke the prairie, In the sod we hoed the corn; Sunny summer waved its streamers, Golden autumn filled its horn. And with this crop so plenty And the help of silvery wheat, We contrived to pay the mortgage, And the other wants defeat. Chorus: She was happy, etc. IV. But one August came the fever, And it scourged the Valley’s length; All of us did ache and shiver, While it sapped our joy and strength. And before the autumn leaves fell With their russet, red and gold, Those verdant sods of Deer Creek My dear Hallie’s form did hold. Chorus: She was happy, etc. V.