Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1875-09-08
The Little Black Fiddle.

lllC AlSSlO DlQOh luulOs
1t hung in the garret, on one of the
big nails there, all around it the usual
lumber of an old house-trunks, broken
chairs, superannuated chest of draw
ers, a spinning-wheel, cobwebs.
Years and years ago tramp had been
taken In at the door in u fainting con-
dition. He lay all day i'm stupor on the
settee where they had placed him; and,
moved with pity, and i'm some slight
CONSERVATION as TO what was to become
of him, and of themselves too, if this
state continued, the household did what
they could for him. just before dark
he began to murmur a broken jargon
of English and foreign tongues, and
took his little black fiddle from his side,
and gave il TO Mr.. Brooks with as i'm
pressive an air as If he bestowed a king
dom, the children looking on, wide-eyed
and open-mouthed. Then he died, and
was buried, and nobody knew anything
further about him; and the children
twarged tie fiddle a while, and there
had been the end of it.
The little fiddle hung forgotten on its
nail but the children grew in strength
and beauty every day, and made the
house nearly as lively as the ark must
have been in all the forty days before it
rested on Ararat. Sometimes the little
fiddle vibrated to their laughter, and
gave it faint echo from It's hollow
breast, but that was all the share it had
in it.
What cheerful group they were,
Belle and Jessie and Fred and Frank,
and the twins always rolling over each
other, and chuckling as if that were the
freshest joke in the world. They were
just as cheerful when dozen years had
passed, and the children were becoming
men and women, childish boisterous-
ness was becoming high-bred gayety,
and the special talent was developing
that belonged to each of them.
But the general talent of that family
was for charity. They had a genius for
it-a genius, as Mr.. Brooks neighbors
used to say, for turning themselves out
of doors i'm order to let somebody else
in; little house, but the largest you
ever knew, for it held the mOst-hOs-
pitable to rich and poor, the wayfarer
never leaving it unrefreshed, the suf-
ferer uncontrolled.
Yet the means TO do so much were
but limited. Mr.. Brooks had but a
small income; Mrs. Brooks found it
necessary TO count every penny twice
over, TO turn and piece and remake, and
never to waste a crumb. But, when
that was all done, there was always
something left for the widow and father
less; and the moment there was any
thing to do, either for North street or
the Five Points or Borroboola, Mrs.
Brooks door was the one first raped
at. And what a vivid interest it was
that was taken throughout that house
In every case that came up, from the
time the little bright heads could cluster
together, the little fingers could hold a
needle, the little legs run an errand!
You could never see a prettier sight
than those bright heads, those glowing
faces, those plying eyes. my bunch
of blossoms" Mr.. Brooks used to call
them, and say they gave their honey to
every bee that. vagabondized about
them. And by-and-by, when Belle
was eighteen, and Jessie just turning
sixteen, and the rest coming on, this
same sympathy with all suffering was
as active as of old; and Jessie's lovely
face seemed every day to grow lovelier
with the melting tenderness she felt TO
every one that needed gentle word or
deed, and when she sang her songs in
the evening, the trait seemed somehow
TO have strained itself through the rich
sweet tones of her voice, and to make
the hearers heart respond to its touch
and always fill his eyes with tears.
"Our jessie" the father used to say,
"ought to have different instructions
with that voice. If you hadn't been
such Sandemanian, wife, all your life,
we should have laid by enough TO send
her to Italy and have her voice culti-
waited as ii should be-"
"weH. dear, would you throw away
all your pleasant memories of pain re-
lieyed and all the benefit it has wrought
the childrenvs characters, and take it
out in music" his wife would ask. 81
should like to have Jessie's voice at
tended to; but, bless you, it might do
her more harm than good"
"Harmr' said Belle once, as they
talked il over.
Eyes, dear; We all have our vanities,
and to nurse ones pride"
"Oh, mamma, but to stand up and lift
a thousand people on your voice as if il
were wings for them! Think of that,
OF the delight she could give so many,
and then of the fortune she could make
and the things she could do. We would
have that children's hospital, and"
Every true" sighed Mrs. Brooks.
Every true," sighed her husband.
at would take fifteen hundred dollars
TO send Jessie to Italy. She would be
TOO old to have it do her voice any good
BY the time 1 could get so much to-
gether." And just then came in the
minister's wife to see about the concert
she was getting up Ior the benefit of the
poor De Maurice children, whose par
ents-lately organist and soprano in the
little church-were lost in the Destroyer
on their way TO Europe for some pur-
pose, at which concert Jessie was to sing
a song, if she could find the courage.
"You needn't be afraid, Jessie, said
the good minister's wife; there's mo-
body in the audience knows a note
more music than you do"
''Oh, but he wiH-the violinist, you
know; and Madame Reuter-, If she
comes s-s-l - & - s-l-
''She's coming. ''We're to pay ex-
penses. And she represented the case
to Signor Pazzanf. and told him they