The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1899-04-09

that they were going to put the ring ano
the pin up to be auctioned off that same
afternoon. So 1 stayed 10 watch the bid
ding on them. had few OF the ST. Louis
brand of drinks under my vest at the time,
and felt pretty good. l had to wait for the
auctioneer duck to come 10 my ring and
pin and l watched the other stuff being
put up without much interest, until the
fellow down below handed up an old leath-
er violin case. That made me sort o
WOODY. I recalled that when ] was a kid,
my father had tried for several years to
drum some violin music into me-us.ng
fence picket for the purpose, generally, on
account Of my dissemination TO do any
practicing-and I thought to myself that
I'd Just pull down that old violin for fun.
l asked the chap on the block to let me
look at it, and 1 inspected it critically not
knowing any more, really, about a violin
than ] did about active temperance work.
This was queer-looking outfit, though.
1t was a bruised-looking Old fiddle, with
out any bridge or strings on IL. There
was nothing fancy about it-no ginger
broadly mother-of-pearl inlaid work or
anything of that kind-but there was
head on the end of the neck that was
carved into what looked to me like a mask
Of tragedy or something like that. The
case was of Unframed leather, with old
fashioned brass hinges, and there were
three funny-looking old bows, with little
or no hair on em, in the box. 1 decided
to get the old thing, anyhow, and string
1t up and see if could remember how to
play Rory O'More,' the only tune I ever
could learn on the fiddle when / was
kid. 1 passed it up to the auctioneer no
body else caring to look at it, and he
startedit going at a dollar bid two. and
got the whole outfit at that figure. Then
l waited until they put up my ring and
4 \ 4
for them originally. Then l picked up my
old violin case, and went to my suite.
how's that, my suite?-at the Laelede.
put the fiddle case under the bed, went
out and got few more high balls, ana
forgot all about the thing for week. By
the time that week had passed, 1 wasn't
selling so many goods. 1 was too busy
trying to see if 1 couldn't find out what
had become of that St. Louis hoodoo.
wanted 10 give the hoodoo every chance
in the world to show up and 1 did.
thought of the old fiddle one afternoon,
however. and went into music store and
bought a set of strings for it and bridge
and bow. l took the old fd. out when 1
got to the hotel, and strung her up. I
remembered how to do that, anyhow But,
say. I found when 1 tried to saw on 1t
that 1 couldn't play a note. I remembered
how Rory OMore went, all right, but
pened when it came to doing it with a
bow. I noticed when I picked the strings
of that good-kind o deep and rich and
contraloish, with a lot of vo.ume and res
onance and that kind of thing.
We'll says I. when I put il back into
its case and showed it under the bed, the
fid s worth 50, anyhow, and the first Dutch
man meet thatll play THE Irish Wash
erwoman" for me on it will get the old
thing for nothing
Then l forgot all about it all over
again. By this time I was nibbling pref
ty hard at the old stuff, and not thinking
much about business. I had seven or
eight hundred ready money and business
wasn't bothering me. Then came the
night that l went up against the green
stuff that the boy behind the bar frappes
for you, and il was all Off The hoodoo
got me. 1 didn't know anything for a
week and when I got out of the trance 1
found a large and turbulent stack of tee-
grams from my Dayton people. Most of
'em were asking me for explanations as
to where 1 was at. The last one read like
this
You are fred
1.-The thunder you say, says I. and !