The Daily Dispatch: November 1, 1860., [Electronic resource]

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Dixie.

--The most famous thing now in America is "Dixie." The forests of Arostook and the gulches of California are equally familiar with its jingle; by the shores of the Chesapeake, and by the pictured rocks of Lake Superior it soundeth. An amusing anecdote is told, which happened lately at a St. Louis theatre:

‘ The orchestra played "Dixie," when the curtain rose and the play began. But the audience would not listen. The cry of "Dixie" ran through the house from pit to gallery, completely drowning the voice of the actor.--He made several ineffectual attempts to be heard, and left the stage. The old manager appeared, flushed with anger, and, in an excited voice, exclaimed: "Gentlemen, what means all this ill-mannered confusion !-- What do you want?" Immediately a hundred voices cried out "Dixie." "Well, you can't have it. "You've had 'Dixie' once tonight, and you'll have 'Dixie' no more." He retired to the green-room, and the actor again appeared. But it was no use. A deafening shout for "Dixie" met him from the audience, and, after stammering and stuttering for a few moments, he left the stage. The curtain dropped, the orchestra played "Dixie," and the play progressed without further interruption.

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