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Updated: May 6, 2025
Those of us who were brought up on English nursery rhymes early loved the fiddle. Old King Cole, that merry old soul, was a prime favorite, notwithstanding his fondness for pipe and bowl, because when he called for them he called for his fiddlers three and their very fine fiddles.
Martha, &c., and an excellent company of fiddlers; so we exceeding merry till late; and then we begun to tell Sir W. Pen the business, but he had been drinking to-day, and so is almost gone, that we could not make him understand it, which caused us more sport.
Plain Stories. How far my pen has been fatigued, like those of other travellers, in this journey of it, over so barren a track the world must judge but the traces of it, which are now all set o' vibrating together this moment, tell me 'tis the most fruitful and busy period of my life; for as I had made no convention with my man with the gun, as to time by stopping and talking to every soul I met, who was not in a full trot joining all parties before me waiting for every soul behind hailing all those who were coming through cross-roads arresting all kinds of beggars, pilgrims, fiddlers, friars not passing by a woman in a mulberry-tree without commending her legs, and tempting her into conversation with a pinch of snuff In short, by seizing every handle, of what size or shape soever, which chance held out to me in this journey I turned my plain into a city I was always in company, and with great variety too; and as my mule loved society as much as myself, and had some proposals always on his part to offer to every beast he met I am confident we could have passed through Pall-Mall, or St.
Then Randi raised herself on her elbow and looked straight in front of her for a little, still sobbing after the fit of crying. "No, no,!" she said, "I'm going to church." Once more she lay back and cried for a little, and then she got up. She said that she would have no more music, so the fiddlers were dismissed and the story did not lose in their telling when they got among the crowd.
I tried to fancy how it would feel if one were really being consigned to that receptacle by interested relatives, as we read in three-volume novels; but it was no use. I was one of a merry company on that occasion. The officials of Hanwell Asylum had been a little shy of being handed down to fame; so I adopted the ruse of getting into Herr Gustav Küster's corps of fiddlers for the occasion.
They are thrown up by the flux of things for Honesty to set his heel on. So houp-la! On with the dance! louder, ye fiddlers! faster, O merry-go-round! Nay, not so glum, ye moralists and satirists, philanthropists and preachers; link hands all ducdame, ducdame! and thank the gods for keeping you in occupation. What should we do without our fools?
Negro fiddlers, two of them, born musicians, came from the quarter. They were dressed in an elaborate best, they were as suavely happy as tropical children, and beamingly eager for the credit in the dance, as in all things else, of "de fambly." Down came the bow upon the strings, out upon the April night floated "Money Musk!"
The carpet had been taken up in the long room, so that the young folks might have a dance. Miss Matilda's piano had been moved in, and two fiddlers and a clarionet-player engaged to make music. All kinds of lamps had been put in requisition, and even colored wax-candles figured on the mantel-pieces.
"You are right as to that, but the evening will be long and stupid." "Oh, we can worry it through. Here, for instance, are two young musicians," indicating the little fiddlers. "Suppose we get a tune out of them?" "Agreed. Here, boy, can you play on that fiddle?" "Yes," said Phil. "Well, give us a tune, then. Is that your brother?" "No, he is my comrade." "He can play, too."
Wallace and irritated him exceedingly. When father and daughter were seated in their carriage and were hurriedly driving home, he said: "Mildred, I prefer that you have as little to say to that man as possible." "What do you object to in him?" she asked. "Everything. Of what use is a man who dawdles away his time on a fiddle; of what benefit is he to mankind? Do fiddlers build cities?
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