The Rutland County herald. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1852-1855, 1853-06-11

Of fate to hold him from being dragged
down and made the prey Of these raven
Gus hrutes, he once more smotc his bow
upon the fiddle, AMI began playing, with
desperate energy, Yankee Doodle
The loud, aninaiing, inspiring notes,
caused instantaneous silence among the
hungry rou, below. 0rpheus piping TO
the bruies was no unmcaning fable
Dick won n kindred triumph. With
as,onishmen, he saw the result of his
music Around him was the most at
tenii,c audience that ever listened 10
his iddling. But when there was the
slightest pause, the wolves sprang for
ward and commenced their howl again.
Thus the black was forced TO labor away,
flinging his feet into the air, redoubling
his vigor, and filling the whole clearing
with his extraordinary harmony. a
feeling OF professional pride gradually
stole over him, in spite Of his alarm
Now and then thought Of the wedding,
Of the warm lights. of the swectened
whisky, Of the whirling dance, Of the
homage and admiration of the colored
people, came regreiful into his mind
but he knew that he was safe so long
as he continued 10 play so on he went,
from " Yankee Doodle" to d" Hail Co
lumbia," searching his memory for ev-
cry lively strain. TO charm away the fe-
rocity Of the strange auditors that couch
ed around.
But pleasure and pride, as well as
patience, come to an end. 1t was
cold night; Dick had walked far and
tasted long his arms were weary of
their exercise. lie began TO feel be-
numbed, hungry and exhausted. Moth
ing however could be done but play on,
for at every pause those fearful growls
began again. There was no content
ing that shaggy troop Of connoisseurs,
fdgeting as they sat, with lolling tongues,
and perched ears, through several
hours of the widest night that Dick had
ever known. The moon went down
low in the sky. A deeper shadow crepi
from under the arches Of the forest
The stars seemed more pale, the forms
Of the trees more bare and gaunt, and
the troop Of wolves TO multiply instead
Of diminishing.
At last, however, the negroes Mt the
wedding feast became alarmed. They
knew that Of all the colorcd people, Dick
was the very minute hand of punctual-
iiy: when he failed, il was invariably
because something or somebody had
failed him. Now, therefore, that he
was hours beyond his time, a serious
accident must have occurred. They
were all as much concerned by this fear
as by the dread Of losing the pleasure
BILE excitement of dance. So they
took lanterns and slaves, and went out
through the plantation TO look for him !;
and when they found him he was still
perched on the roof of the old hut, saw
ing upon his fiddle, running over all his
tunes again, but ready to drop with
WEAKNESS and cold. The wolves we're
driven of, and they reluctantly quilted
the spot. Their forms might be seen
lingering on the skirts Of the wood and
as the negroes passed on with their old
friend, howl, rising at intervals, and
an occasional rustling among the BUSH
es, showed that the pack was still in
wary and determined, but useless pur-
suit.
II was long past midnight when Dick
arrived with his fiddle. There was no
help for it, however. All that could be
done was 10 60 on all next day, instead
Of breaking up in the morning. The
doors were wide with welcome. The
fires blazed high, and their light danced
in rudy streams over the floor. The
corn-cakes were hot and the sweet
whisky was abundant, so Dick was
eheered after his adventures and for
many, many hours, he went on playing
to happy crowd of jewellers, those airs
of merriness which, to save his life, he
had been playing all night TO a pack Of
wolves.