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It was near the river, and Fiddlin' Jack was always ready to make a boat for him, or help him catch minnows in the mill-dam. The child had a taste for music, too, and learned some of the old Canadian songs, which he sang in a curious broken patois, while his delighted teacher accompanied him on the violin.
Jess nothin'! Ain't Bull Corey the blowin'est and the mos' trouble-us cuss 'round these hull woods? And would n't it be a fust-rate thing ef some o' the wind was let out 'n him?" General assent greeted this pointed inquiry. "And wa'n't Fiddlin' Jack peacerble 'nough 's long 's he was let alone? What's the matter with lettin' him alone now?" The argument seemed to carry weight.
'Gude nicht to ye, said Robert, with the fiddle-case under his arm. The shoemaker looked up, with his hands bound in his threads. 'Ye're no gaein' to tak her frae me the nicht? 'Ay am I, but I'll fess her back again. I'm no gaein' to Jericho wi' her. 'Gang to Hecklebirnie wi' her, and that's three mile ayont hell. 'Na; we maun win farther nor that. There canna, be muckle fiddlin' there.
Several had short sticks in their hands. One had an old tomato can with a string tied to it. The tallest boy had something that he was trying to hold beneath his coat. "'H how do you do?" they mimicked. "How do you do, fiddlin' kid?" "I'm David; my name is David." The reminder was graciously given, with a smile. "David! David!
"He's got five pair o' new mittins, an' my little blue chist full o' stockin's. I knit 'em two-an'-two, an' two-an'-one, an' toed some on 'em off with white, an' some with red, so's to keep 'em in pairs. But Mary said I better not knit any more, for fear the moths'd git into 'em, an' so I stopped an' took up this garter. But 'tis dretful fiddlin' work!"
An' Hopewell Huh! him sittin' up there fiddlin' " It seemed to Janice as though a spirit of criticism had entered into all the Poketownites. There was Walky Dexter scoffing at her Uncle Jason; and here was Selectman Moore criticising the father of little Lottie. Yet neither critic, as far as Janice could see, set much of an example for his townsmen to follow!
The Bible was none o' your fiddlin' pocket things, but a good substantial one, wi' pitchers o' Moses in the bulrushes an' Abraham scarifyin' 'is son, an' such like. An' the leaves was that thick that Soapy might as well 'ave smoked brown paper or the Pet-it Journal. But that wasn't the worst of it.
And w'en she ain' fussin' an' fiddlin', she jus' moons around, waitin' fo' him to come ridin' up in that red car like a devil on greased light'in'. An' I say right heah, Miss Claudia ain' gwine like it." "Why ain' she?" "Miss Claudia know black f'um w'ite. An' dat man done got a black heart " "Whut you know 'bout hit, Mandy?" "Lissen. You wait. He'll suck a o'ange an' th'ow it away.
I suspect his fiddlin' was not even "middlin'," but he beat time fairly well and kept the dancers somewhere near to rhythm, and so when his ragged old cap went round he often got a handful of quarters for his toil. He always ate two suppers, one at the beginning of the party and another at the end.
Perhaps they were more used to him; or perhaps they had decided suddenly that it might be good fun to satisfy their curiosity, anyway, regardless of consequences. Whatever it was, the lads hailed his appearance with wild shouts of glee. "Golly, boys, look! Here's the fiddlin' kid," yelled one; and the others joined in the "Hurrah!" he gave.
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