Canutito ‘hace’ cheer up ‘al grampo’
Ya era late in the evening at the end de ese día en otoño. The crisp autumn air found Grampo Caralampio sitting en el portal playing su harmonica in the dark of night. As he moved esa musiquita across his lips, he blew into it, produciendo una tonadita melancólica que hacía waft off into la noche. Canutito came outside, wrapped en su suera and sat down al lado del grampo. He pulled his sweater closer as he listened to the sad tune coming from the harmonica yle preguntó: “Grampo, how come que la tonada that you are playing sounds tan triste?”
“Ay, m’hijo,” grampo said, “I think que I am just sitting aquí, feeling my mortality.”
“What does that mean, grampo?” Canutito asked him.
“It means, m’hijo,” grampo replied, “que there comes a time en la vida de cada hombre when he realizes que he is not going to live forever. Somehow this musiquita that I was playing reminded me of that.”
“Well, couldn’t you just change la música of the harmonica into algo más alegre and lively, grampo?” Canutito asked him.
“I suppose que I could, m’hijo,” grampo said. “¿No tienes una suggestion?”
“Well, ¿qué si toca ‘Turkey in the Straw,’ grampo? Esa canción es un poco lively.”
“I think que I remember cómo tocar that tune,” grampo said, moving the harmonica pa’trás y pa’delante on his lips.
As the tune started to play, Canutito comenzó a cantar las words to the song: “Oh, I had a little chickie y no hacía lay un egg, so I poured hot agua a través su leg; oh mi little chickie grita y mi little chickie begged ymi little chickie puso un hardboiled egg.”
Canutito laughed y Grampo Caralampio smiled cuando la canción had finished. “Let’s do otra lively tune, grampo,” Canutito begged. “¿Cómo qué, m’hijo?” grampo asked. “How about si toca ‘Polly Wolly Doodle,’ grampo?” “I’ll play it, si tú la cantas, m’hijo,” grampo said, un poco entusiasmão.
As Grampo Caralampio started tocando la musiquita, Canutito sang out: “Oh, me fui pa’l South, para ver mi Sal, singing Polly Wolly doodle all the day. Oh mi Sally es como una res, singing Polly Wolly doodle all the day. Fare thee well, pues, adiós, now I call con toda voz. Yo me voy a Lou’siana; I won’t be back ‘til mañana, singing Polly Wolly doodle all the day.”
Canutito laughed a causa de su traducción tan silly. Grampo también hizo snicker un poquito. “Let’s do otra!” Canutito yelled. “Bueno,” grampo said. “¿Cómo qué, m’hijo?”
“How about si cantamos: ‘Pop goes the Weasel?’ ” Canutito suggested.
“¡Sí!” grampo shouted. “I like esa canción. You sing y yo toco la musiquita. Go for it!”
Canutito began cantando: “Al ‘redor del mulberry bush, el chango chased al weasel. Así es que todo se va; ¡papas con chorizo!” Both grampo and Canutito laughed hard. “I’ve got otra canción, m’hijo,” grampo cried joyfully. “Esta vez though, you play the harmonica yyo canto.”
“Bueno, grampo,” Canutito exclaimed blowing into the harmonica. “¡Delegas!”
Grampo comenzó a cantar: “¡Florinduche, florindown, florindown, florindown, Florinduche, florindown, my fair lady!”
As los dos laughed, grampo said:“I feel como un giddy muchachito!”
“That’s what I was hoping que you would say, grampo,” Canutito said a voz baja …