The Bellefontaine Republican. [volume] (Bellefontaine, Logan County, Ohio) 1855-1905, 1899-08-15
FAYETTE'S VIOLIN.

- - - - - - - ~ u " 1LAANs
We had been discussing all kinds OF
9hostly and occult subjects that even
ing, Thompson and l. until the fire had
dwindled away into a pile of gray ashes
and Uncle Joshua had apparently fallen
asleep. Thompson was Theosophist
and Presbyterian, SO some of our
tilts were of the liveliest sort 1 had
just delivered myself of coup of pecul-
lar poignancy, so thought, when Un.
Gle Joshua suddenly opened his eyes,
stretched in his good, old fashioned way
and said
"I'm not up on karmas, astral bodies
and such, as you boys seem to be, but
before we all turn in want to tell you
a ghost story of my own-one whose
truth ! can personally vouch for
Thompson and l filled our pipes and
Uncle Joshua hitched forward his chair
and began:
"Once upon time away down in
Georgia there lived towheaded little
Cracker There were several distinguish
ing features about him. He neither
dipped snuff nor ate clay, and he had a
marvellous command of the violin. Day
after day, while his brothers and sisters
were making pretense at work or idling
their time away in the neighboring vii
lage, he spent by himself in the lonely
pine woods playing, always playing. He
had never heard music other than that
the negroes made, bat to him the wind
in the pines was filled with harmony,
and at night, when the rain battered
on the roof over his little bunk, he
dreamed of vast audiences and storms
of applause.
''In his character of recluse, as years
drew on, he came to be regarded as gift
cd with magical powers. He never
played in public. He never even played
for their dances. But they said he played
for the birds and other wild things,
and that he could make them do what
ever he wished with the power Of his
music. However true this may be, it is
a fact that he caught fish while others
caught none. And ON still days, just be-
fore storm perhaps, when even insects
were quiet, the strains of his violin
would floatup from the river bottoms,
sweet and clear and wonderfully sad.
Then all who heard it would stop what
ever they were doing and listen. Even
the babies would stop their crying and
field hands would swear no more that
afternoon.
1.-THE boy and his violin were never
apart. Wherever he went he carried it
with him, and when he slept it lay at
his side. No mother was ever more con-
siderate of her child than he was of it,
1.-The violin, in spite of it's humble
surroundings, was a beautiful instru-
ment. Several attempts had been made
to sell it, but luckily the rich planters
of the region, who were the moneyed
class, knew nothing of its value or did
not care. The boy had received the in
strument from his father. His father
had inherited it, SO it was said, from
his own mother, to whom some lineal
ancestor had given it. Crackers do not
care much for pedigrees, but there was
a sort Of dim tradition in the family
that they had not always been Crackers
that long, long ago, in the early
days, they had been rich and influen-
tial But now Of all their forgotten
wealth the violin only was left.
Zone evening when he returned to
his cabin after a day spent as usual in
the wildwood, he found his family in
what for them was state of excite
ment They had been in arrears for
their rent goodness knows how long, but
now their landlord told them it was
pay or go. They could move their scant
belongings easily enough, but where to
go and what to do confronted their sim
pie minds like an insurmountable bar
rier.
1.-The boy listened in silence to all
that they told him. Silently he ate his
pone and sweet potato. Then he washed
himself and put on his shoes.
1.-THE family looked in stolid silence
while he made his preparations Only
his mother asked him where he was go.
ing, and to her he made no answer, they
say. only to go up and kiss her. Mighty
little kissing the Crackers do, but they
were used to his peculiar ways and
thought nothing of it..
Uncle Joshua looked at US sharply
over his spectacles to see if we were fol-
lowing him and continued:
"WeIl, he showed up in Atlanta that
night, he and his violin, about O'Clock.
He was tired and hungry and thirsty
and lonely, for he had walked all the
way from his cabin, II miles away, and
his heart was in his throat, too, fancy,
for he had never been in such crowds
before, and he had come determined to
earn enough money to pay the rent
''Timidly at first and with hands that
trembled he began to play, but as he
felt the caress of the violin against his
cheek and it's voice responded to his
touch his heart grew stronger. His eyes
closed and his spirit was again among
the sweet gum and pine. He was stand
ing in shadow near the entrance to a
big hotel, and at first his music attract
ed no attention. Several gentlemen were
sitting on the hotel porch, it happened,
chatting about cotton and other matters,
and there was momentary lull in the
conversation. Suddenly one of them ex-
claimed: Who in the world is that play
ing the violin? It's beautiful. They all
listened. 1t was a wonderful melody
they heard, quivering, flashing, full Of
fire, and yet through it all sort Of