It sat down at the fountain, under a blazing summer sun.  While I set up, a young man asked me if I’d seen the other guy who plays at Bethesda Fountain.  I described the cowboy, without calling him that; the young man said that was him.  “He’s usually done by 12:30, then I take over.”

The young man sat down next to me.  I tuned up while we chatted.  He was a singer and was thinking of busking.  “Do you use an amp and recorded accompaniment?”  He said no.  I suggested he check out the underpass between the boathouse and the conservatory pond, where people sailed model boats.  “The acoustics are really good.”  That seemed to have sold him.  He ambled eastward; I stood and played “Making Love Ukulele Style.”

And I played for 30 minutes before a family of 6 walked by.  A pudgy little boy of 8 or 9 slowed, stopped, dug a quarter out of his pocket and gave it to me.

A bride and groom came by.  I immediately stopped playing “Did You Ever See a Dream Walking,” and started “The Hawaiian Wedding Song.”  This is my practice for every wedding party.  They took pictures at the fountain near me, after which I asked if they had time for a hula.  Unlike all brides and grooms before them, they said yes.

A crowd gathered to watch the happy couple dance to “The Hukilau Song.”  Some of them put money in my case, as I later saw; my attention was on the dance, which evolved from a stiff, unconvincing hula to an unrestrained series of spins and dips, ending with a long smooch on the lips.  The bride, who carried no money, asked if I’d be there for a while.  I told her another 30-40 minutes.  They returned the leis and headed toward the boathouse.  They didn’t come back.

A man, passing by, dropped a buck.

On the lawn that rises to the east, a large group of kids in white tees had been picnicking.  Lunch over, they walked down to the fountain 4 or 5 at a time.  A kid came forward and threw a coin into my case, then ran back to where his travel mates were assembling.  I expected to find another quarter, but it was a 2 Euro piece, which I replace with 2 singles from my wallet.

A photographer captured the second verse of “Honolulu Baby,” lyrics by Mr. Ukulele:

While down at Bethesda Fountain, underneath a hot summer sky,

I play my ukulele for all the people walking by.

The lovers feel the rhythm, the little babies clap their hands.

The vendors do the hula beside their hot dog stands.

For which I got a thumbs-up and a dollar.

I’d played for 90 minutes.  With 7 singles and a quarter in my pocket, I quickly got out of the sun.