Connecticut western news., 1890-01-01
Fiddler Joe.

I stood by the one little square win dow of which good Parson Griggs' log-cabin bOasted, gazing dreamily out across the clearing, which seemed like a diminutive island in an ocean of pine. A heavy snow-storm had man. tied every visible object with white, and the crystal flakes were still slowly sitting dowE,e although the sun. was driving wedges of gold through the myriad rifts that divided the somber clouds overhead.
 s'lt's clarin' up," remarked the par son, as he knocked the ashes out of his pipe and placed it upon the rude man. tie above the fireplace. "I reckon," he continued, s'thet eff we're goin' to try an hey any fun with the deer to- day, we'd better turn loose the purps an git to trackin'."
 He was curious character, was the parsOn, and man of many callings. Hunter, trapper, river driver, farmer and preacher, he was as genuine pro- duct of Northern Michigan as the sturdy pines that hedged his forest home. True, his illiteracy may have somewhat circumscribed his usefulness as a minister of the gospel, but his hearers, for most part, were not dis posed to be hypercritical, and his weekly meeting at the big log school house over on section eight were well attended. He possessed homely wit, a ready command of language, and fund of shrewd, practical common sense, which in great measure atoned for his deficiencies in the matter of education, and he was very popular with the backwoods congregation.
 "He h'aint no college-bred pulpit mauler," said one of his admirers to me on one occasion, s'an' he don't use such purity language as some I've heerd, but when he gifts warmed up with the spirit an goes showin' up the blamed dirt am meanness that most of us kerries in our hearts he makhs me feel meaner n yaller dog-durn me eff he don't"
 But whatever may have been the par sons merits or demerits as preacher, he was certainly most excellent hunt CT, and every year late in the shooting season left my business and sought the pineries for a two weeks hunt with my eccentric friend. On the day of which I speak we had been kept in the house several hours by a driving storm, and we hailed the prospect of pleasant weather with much satisfac- ton.
 ssThis is mighty big fall O snow for November" said the parson as he slipped handful of cartridges into his Winchester, ''an' it'll be gret day for trackin'. I wouldn't wonder eff"
 At this point he was interrupted by the loud baying of one of his hounds, and 8 moment later there came rap at the door. The visitor, without waiting for an invitation, strode into the cabin, and divesting himself of a big fur cap which had covered the larger share of his face, revealed the familiar features of Big John, woods man from one of the neighboring camps and a well-known character in those parts.
 "I've come down." said Big John, as he shook the snow from his "Mack- inaw," s'to git ye to go up to Col burns camp, an Pm mighty glad found yer to home, parson. Fiddler Joe got all smashed up this mornin' an he wants to see yer bad"
 ..How did it happen?o I asked.
 sI warn't thar" said Big John, s'bu the boys said as how two blame fooli from Saginaw as was hangin' around the camp got in the way of fallin tree an Joe rushed in to push then back an got pinched himself."
 'sIs he bad hurt2" asked the parson
 "He's got his summons an thal ain't no gittin' 'round it. Pm mighty dubious that he won't hold out till W, git thar" and the big fellow brushed something from his face that did no resemble snow, and turning abrupt, away walked to the window and stoot looking out in silence until we go ready to start.
 Fiddler Joe was great friend O ours-indeed, he was the friend of al who knew him. Rough and uncoutl in his manner, but honest, generou and true, he was a prime favorite wit his fellow craftsmen and very popula with the settlers. He was an excellen performer on the violin, and his pres ence was in demand at all the countr dances far and wide. After har days work in camp he would frequent ly walk several miles to gratify tn wishes of some of his young friend who considered no social gathering c entertainment complete without Jo and his fiddle. His willingness to obligt his Kindness of heart and his ger erosity were proverbial. If one of tn boys in camp was sick, it was Fiddle Joe that nursed him back to health. a comrade was in hard luck, he ws always sure of Joe's sympathy and aiG 1t was he who breasted the mad wate, of the North Branch in the dead c
 winter to save the crippled chore Do from drowning. It was he, too, wht when Big John came down with ti
 small pox in Bradford's Camp, in tf spring of '79, remained with him an nursed him through his illness whe every other man in the crew fled terror at the first mention of the pest
 lential disease.
 Where he came from, or what h antecedents were, no one knew, for
 never told anything of his past life al
 did not ike to be questioned concer
 ing it. It was believed by his frien
 that he had at some time occupied
 much higher station in life than h
 present one, and there were those vi .l 2 ssssss;;s sss