St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1899-08-19
EN- ROUTE, April -, 1899.


My DEAR FELLow-sAwYERs-E
nee teaches us that first impressions
are the most lasting. Next to the inn
pressions which received from dog
wood sprout or twig of weeping will
low. when was b1refooted boy, are
the impressions which were made upon
my young mind and heart by the fid-
dlers. The tunes they used to play got
tangled in my memory and they are just
as vivid there today as arc the faces
used to know and the Incidents and
happenings of the happy days gone
by.
I can see Polk Scott and Sam Rowe
just as plainly now as actually saw
them when was n ten-year-old lad at
the old log sehooihouse that stood by
the bnbbling. spring. They played ut
the exhibition" at the close of our
school; and 1 have never heard any
sweeter music since. Sans big brown
whiskers rolled and tumbled in ecstacy
on his fiddle, as he rocked to and fro.
with ,half-closed eyes, and, with whiz-
zing bow, reveled in the third heaven
of "Arkansaw Traveller" Folks black
mustache swayed and Topped like a
ravens wings, as he scared amid the
grandeurs of ''Natchez Under the Hill" )"
They were the "Pegininis" OF the
mountains; they were the "O,e Bulls"
of our humble society; they were the
royal "Remenyis' of our rural. rollick-
ing festivities; they were big-hearted
and genial; they were noble fellows,
and SO are all fiddlers to this good day.
Their melodies were the echoes OF ma
ture's sweet voices In every sweep of
the bow there was the drumming OF q
pheasant or the cacKle of hen or the
call of Bob White or the trill OF a
thrush. Sometimes l could hear a
whip-poor-will sing; sometimes, wild
goose quack; and, panther yell; now
and then the cats would fight, and the
music was always mellow with moon
shine"
When grew little larger used to
slip out from under the smiling roof OF
..homc, sweet home," and cut the
pigeon wing with the rosy-cheeked
mountain girls, until it seemed that my
very soul was in my heels still have
fond recollectiors of every fiddler who
played at the old-time country dance;
and when hear those sweet old tunes,
even now it is difficult for me to keep
my soul above my sotks.
So far as l am concerned, l am
worshipcr at the shrine of music. The
classics of Mozart aud Mendelssohn arc
grand and glorious TO me, but l cannot
be persuaded to turn my back on the
classics of the plain country fiddlers.
The old country tunes were handed
down from the days of the Revolution,
and every one of them breathes the
| spirit of liberty; every old jig is an echo
from the fiintlock rifles and shrill fifes
| Of Bunker Hill; every ''hornpipe" is .
refrain from Kings Mountains; "Old
Granny Rattletrap" is Declaration o1
Independence; Jennie, Put the K!ttlt
On,' boils over with freedom; jay
bird Settin' ON a Swingin' Limb wa:
George Washing;on's ''favoright;' and
Gray Eagle" was Thomas Jefferson.
masterpiece; Leather. Breeches' was
the Marseilles hymn Of the old heroes
who lived in tile days of Davy Crockett
| No wonder the fiddlers are 30 pa
.triotic and brave. never saw real
genuine fiddler who would not fight
but, mind you. have quit fiddling.
/ When I grew lsrge enough to cas-
sleeps eyes at the girls, when love be
gan to tickle my heart and the blood o
the violets got into my veins, 1 began t
draw the bow across the vibrant string
of the fiddle to give vent to my feelings
and poured my spirit out through m.
fingers by the bucketful. l swappe'
spirit for smiles 1t the ratio of sixteel
to one; I exchanged clogs for compli
ments, and Jigs for sighs and senti
mental EXPLANATIONS. No ordinar
mortal ever felt the raptures Of a fid
dlcr; the fiddle is his bride, and tn
honeymoon lasts forever.
fiddled and fiddlcd and fiddled
until youth blossomed into manhood
and still fiddled and fiddled. Pol
ticlans sneered 1t me as a fiddler, bu
the girls said it was no harm, and tn
bows voted while fiddled, and the fid
die won. There is always some oil
sour and tuneless hypocritc abusin
and denouncing ''us fiddlers-" l hav
heard them say that they never saw
fiddler who was 'sany account, and
have known good men who sincerel
believed that fddlers were dangerou
to communities. There never was
greater error of opinion. There il a
more harm b wiggling the fingers tha
there is ins Rsgging the tongue, an
. there is a great deal more religion in
good, law-abiding fiddle than there
il some folks who outlaw that divin
instrument. There is infinitely moi
music in it than there is in some hymn
l have heard sung by old dyspcptit
who dcnounce il. Music is must
whether it be the laughter and song
the fiddle or the melodies Of the huma
voice; music is the halleluiah OF u
soul, whether it comes through fiddl
strings or vocal chords. Happy is Il
| home in which fiddles and fiddlel
dwell, and nearest to heaven is Il
church where fiddlers and singers bier
: their music in hymns of praise to A
mighty God.
have heard cultivated musician
laugh 1t the country fiddler, and ca
his tunes rag music;' but the law
compensation governs in this realm, |
well rs in every other. for the countl
addlers laugh just as heartily 1t Il
sublimest efforts of high-class m
sicians. Neither can understand u
other. To the noteless and untutor'
fiddler the Rrandest efforts OF Il
. greatest orchestra are the sensele
: hieroglyphics Of sound; to the cultur'
ear the simple melodies which dan
out from the bosom OF the fiddle ~
the soul of the fiddler are but the ridic
lous busssrks Of bumblebee discord.
\ 0ut there = 70 ysasea Why tie =