Toward the end of 1897 Walter Damrosch had been devoting his attention to the composition of a few songs and among others produced admirable settings of Rudyard Kipling's "Mandalay" and Danny Deever." When I first sang the latter at the Academy of Music in Philadelphia, December 11, at a concert of the Orpheus Club, I had no idea that it would become famous throughout the United States. The ballad had already been set to music several times.... it was not long, however, until all rival compositions gave way before the virility of Mr. Damrosch's conception of the piece. When Kipling visited New York in 1899 I met at an evening reception given in his honor at the house of the editor poet, Richard Watson Gilder. Though it was not a musical party, toward the close of the evening I was requested to sing "Danny Deever," by that time famous everywhere. At the conclusion of the song Kipling rose, hastily said good-by to his hostess, and left the room, to the surprise of every one present, who wished to congratulate him on the power of his text. After recovering from an attack of pneumonia brought on that very night through leaving the hot drawing-room for the snowstorm outside, he returned to England. The next spring I had a visit from a gentleman who called ceremoniously and politely informed me that his friend Kipling, who was in the country, sent me his apologies and regrets for what I might have thought rudeness in leaving the room so suddenly after my singing of his "Danny Deever," in New York the winter before; but Mr. Kipling would like me to know that he had been so
powerfully affected by my rendering of the ballad that he could not trust himself to speak and had to say good night as quickly as possible. Here was indeed the amende honorable.

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In February, 1900, I was invited to sing at the executive mansion in Albany, New York, while Theodore Roosevelt was governor of the state. I had met this eminent American more than once and knew members of his family, and was
specially asked that evening by Mrs. Roosevelt to sing for her guests from the best in my repertory, which included classic songs and old English lyrics to end with, but was particularly requested not to sing my war horse, "Danny Deever," my hostess thinking it so gruesome a piece of realism that she preferred not to be harrowed by it again. Surely this was a compliment as great as that paid me
afterward at the White House by President Roosevelt himself ("By Jove, Mr. Bispham, that was bully! With such a song as that you could lead a nation into battle!").