The Louisiana Democrat. [volume] (Alexandria, La.) 1845-1918, 1877-09-19

sat up half the night filling his HIDE
with beer and wine, and drumming
some of his own compositions on an
old harp sicord, how could he be fit
for business the next morning2 and
how the devil could he pay butch.
er's bill unless he borrowed the
money! And look at Burns: there
was what you call genius again.
He had his head turned by Aattery
and he went cumming around in the
company of his superiors, drinking
whisky and writing poetry on any.
thing that happened to turn up
He was always overwhelmingly in
debt; and between worrying over this
and excessive drink he died at the
age of thirty. seven"
This is all very good as far as il
goes, but we dare say if Mozart OF
Burns had been in the possession Of
ample fortunes, and had spent mon.
ey freely on the bummers of that
day, their follies would have been
overlooked by the very people who
have tried to belittle their fame
But we would "draw it mildly" in
speaking of their shortcomin s; fol-
in their cases the chad fairy" must
bear the responsibility of their irreg-
ularities.
And now we must return to the
wonderful musician. After his per.
formances in the village concert
room the whole place was in state
of great excitement. Even the old
n-players-those who had been
having things their own way for
years, and realized that they were
about to have their pins knocked
from under them-they, as they sat
around the table in the little beer
garden of the place, discussed the
stranger between sips of their favor
ite drink, and admitted his superior
ity as a violinist. The reputation
gained by his first performance add
ed greatly to the numbers that flock
ed to the second. The hall was
crowded, and again lie had selected
one of DeBeriot's compositions-a
composer whom all vioinists have
been taught to yencratc. But the
high sounding names of the concer-
tos had no effect on the wonderful
musician. He was cool and collect
ell, and took his position as true
artist; and at his first touch of
Jake's fiddle it was easy to see he
was completely at home. He fairly
played all over Jake's fiddle. He
made octaves, double noses, chords,
up-and- down bow staccatos. and the
jumping-bow staccato, working the
bow like pump handle, and withal
he did these difficult things without
effort, and brought the "true tone"
from the instrument. The audience
was in ecstacies, the ladies smiled
lovingly at their beaux, and the
Juno-like married lady again squeez-
ed the hand of the young gentleman
who was filling the husbands place
as escort. The applause was deaf
ening, and the musicians could not
refrain from saying, excitedly-
"foorst raten'
In spite of all this enthusiasm a
mystey still hung over the W. M
"Who was he? Where did he come
from? Why should such an artist
be without food and money and
Why should such a man
be nothing more nor less than a
tramp"
Old Scraper, who had heard the
various questions propounded, said,
"Gentlemen, there is but one answer
to these several questions, and that
is"
But old Scraper was not allowed
to finish the sentence, and Little
Jake, suspecting what he meant to
insinuate, said he was quite sure the
stranger never drank anything
stronger than water, or perhaps oc-
casionally he may have taken glass
of beer.
Having arrived in the village in
such a doleful plight as was intima-
ted in "The Enchanted Fiddle" it
was not explained how the W. NJ.
was rugged up in sufficiently good
clothing to appear before the ayisto
cratic audiences that assembled in
the music hall. Commencing with
the boots Signor Siegelletti had pre-
sented him, he wore in addition,
John Fallen's shirt, Merry Killers
pants, and Ronny Jefford's dress