Free The Horse is Dead by Robert Klane Page A

walking all the way home.
     
    Nemiroff watched the rain come down and cried. Nemiroff didn't always cry when it rained, but ever since that first day he had spent locked in with those kids at Camp Winituck with no escape, he secretly wished it would never rain again.
    It was too much. Even some of the more stable counselors would begin to crack at the first sprinkle. For Nemiroff, it was an impossible situation. It was whenever it rained that Nemiroff seriously thought that maybe the army wouldn't be so bad after all.
    Uncle Bernie loved the rain. Uncle Bernie was a frustrated showman. A ham. And every time it rained, Uncle Bernie had an audience trapped inside the converted stable that served as Camp Winituck's recreation center. Uncle Bernie played a bad piano, sang bad songs and played a lousy fiddle. Uncle Bernie secretly wished that it would rain every day of the summer.
    The rain was really pouring down, and the one hundred and thirty-seven campers and counselors were crowded into the small area of the recreation room. They all were deathly silent as they waited for the dreaded announcement they knew must come. This time the unfortunate chore fell upon Mr. Robinson. He got up in the center of the crowd and raised his hands.
    "Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "it gives Camp Winituck the great pleasure of introducing the one, the only"—he paused for emphasis—"Uncle Bernie."
    The front door burst open and in rushed Uncle Bernie complete with straw hat, cane and tap sneakers.
    "If you knew Susie, like I knew Susie. Oh . . . oh . . . oh, what a gal. ..'"
    The booing and catcalling started with a whisper and grew to ear-breaking volume.
    " 'There's none so classy, as this fair lassy. Oh ... oh . . . oh . . .'"
    The booing had stopped bothering Uncle Bernie a long time ago. He did seven choruses, broke into a little time step, and finished big with a double backward somersault, catching his straw hat in his teeth.
    "Throw the bum out," one of the campers yelled.
    "The hook," screamed another, "somebody give him the hook."
    Uncle Bernie didn't care how much they screamed and booed. They had no place to go, and by God, they were going to be entertained whether they liked it or not.
    " 'Swanee . . .'" Uncle Bernie went on to his second number without a break. " 'Swaaahaahaaneeee ... the sun shines east... the sun shines west...'"
    Somebody's shoe caught Uncle Bernie in the head.
    " 'But I know where the sun shines best...'" He picked up the shoe and tossed it back without missing a note.
    It had been a long time since it rained. Uncle Bernie did twenty-eight songs before he moved on to the piano. There was a pile of shoes knee-deep around the spot he had been singing from. Uncle Bernie banged a few introductory notes on the piano.
    "O.K., everybody, it's request time once again." He let his fingers run up and down the keyboard. "C'mon, now don't be shy. Speak right up and see if you can stump old Uncle Bernie."
    "Burn the piano," somebody suggested.
    "Did you say 'Come to Me, My Melancholy Baby'?" The piano started tinkling. He did a twenty-minute version. Uncle Bernie must have been tired because he only played for five hours. He didn't notice that half the camp was now standing outside in the pouring rain.
    Uncle Bernie finished on the piano and immediately picked up his fiddle. The shoes flew at him from all directions. "Now for the real treat," Uncle Bernie announced, still ducking the shoes, "a real old-fashioned square dance." He started to play a few notes on the fiddle. Nobody moved. "C'mon, get out here for the square dance." Nobody moved. He pointed to eight of the counselors. "If you aren't out here for the square dance by the time I count ten, you're fired."
    The eight counselors got out on the floor.
    "That's the spirit," Uncle Bernie cheered. "Now grab a partner." He started to fiddle some notes.
    Nemiroff took a chance and asked Miss Booe if she would like to be his partner. To his surprise she accepted. He