Habits are thought to be deeply ingrained, but they can disappear without your noticing it happen, bit by bit. Realizing that I don't whistle much these days and sing even less, I've resolved to remedy the situation. How could whistling and singing have dwindled away? My earliest memories are of people singing and whistling; life was full of music. Where there was a piano and so many who could play so well, music from the keyboard was a large part of daily life also. Singing for years accompanied a certain weekday walk and its counterpart at the end of the day. When life detoured from that route, did the regular occasion for singing go as well? Showtunes from before WWII and after are still there in the head. I find that Then Sings My Soul, bought as a gift for somebody else and then later for myself, reminds me that I remember much more of that musical literature than I would ever have thought. The author's bias is irritating at times, but the text is interesting and a lot of favorites are included, although not I Would Be Brave or Follow the Gleam, but they're memorialized fondly on line. The book would be improved were it to furnish the traditional names of the traditional melodies. I still keep trying to find out more about the Nat King Cole album that included "Keemo Kimo." It may have something to do with a version of Froggy Went A-Courtin' but I don't know. So, here we go, with "Come to your Nabob."