Macon beacon. [volume] (Macon, Miss.) 1859-1995, 1899-07-22
To the Fiddlcrs

MY DEAR I ELLOW'SAWNERs- LNpeIl-
nee teaches US that first Impressions
are the most lasting, Next to the inn
pressions which received from dog
wood sprout or twig of a weeping will
low, when | was a blrefooted boy, are
the impressions which were made upon
my young mind and heart by the fd-
dlers. The tunes they used to play got
tangled in my memory and they are just
as vivid there today IS are the faces |
used to know and the incidents and
of the happy days gone
by.
can see Polk Scott and Sam Rowe
just as plainly now as ! actually saw
them when was tcn-year-old lad at
the old log schoolhouse that stood by
the bubbling spring. They played at
the Exhibition at the close of our
school; and | have never heard any
sweeter music since. Sans big brown
whiskers rolled and tumbled in ccstacy
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
ravens wings, as he scared amid the
grandeurs Of 'Natchez Under the Hill. ."
They were the "Peginini,' of the
mountains; they were the Ole Bulls"
of our humble society; they were the
royal "Remenyisn Of our rural, rollicS-
ing festivities; they were big-hearted
and genial: they We're noble fellows,
and so are all fddlers to this good day.
Their melodies were the echoes Of ma
lures sweet voices. In every sweep Of
the bow there was the drumming Of a
pheasant or the cacKle of hen or the
call of Bob White or the trill Of
thrush. Sometimes ! could hear a
whip-poor-will sing; sometimes, a wild
goose quacll; and, a panther yell; now
and then the cats would fight and the
music was always mellow with moon
shine.
When | grew a little larger ] used to
slip ont from under the smiling roof OF
home, 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 recolleetonS OF every h1dler VINO
played at the oId-tIme country dance;
and when hear those sweet Ola tunes
even no" 1t IS dllhcult Tor me 10 Keep
my soul above my so ks
So far as l am concerned l am
worshiper at the shrine OF music Inc
classics OF Mozart and NehaelsNohh are
grand ana glorious 10 me- ont ! cannot
De persuaded 10 TURN my oach on ''e
classics OF the pam country hu"IcFs,
Inc Ola country tunes were hdhue"
down from the Gays OF the Revolutions
ana every one OF 'hem preaIues Il'e
spirit OF hoertS' every old J'E Is an echo
from the illnllocN rlheS ana ShI''I mes
oil bunker nm, every 'horhP'Pe ~ i, d
refrain from hlng 5 Mountaih' VA
Granny RattIetrap is Declaration OF
Independence Jennie lul Vne NIUE
on, Dolls over WIN freedoms jay
oird oetun on N"lhElh L''Ao was
George Nashlng'ous IaFoflsu'' ana
tray Eagle was lhoha' 0eHeISon 3
masterpieces Le"Vuer hIeecHvA was
the MarseiIIeS hymn OF the ora heroes
who lived III the uaNSoI DaFy OrocheI"
No wonder Ine nuuIefs are 50 pa
trlotlc and brave never Sd" real
genuine hddIer VINO would hoV uSh1'
but mind you nave quit huullHE'
When l gre" large enough TO cast
sheePS eyes a' '''e R'IlS' "ueu Love o'
gan to tickle my heart and the OIo"u OIL
the violets got INTO my VEINS began 10
draw the bow across the vibrant sJrIHgS
of the fiddle to give vent TO my teeIlhss'
and l poured my spirit out through my
fingers by the buckettuI' snapped
spirit for smiles at the ratlo OF sixteen
to one exchanged clogs Tor coinpIi'
ments, and Jigs for signs ana seh'l-
mental explanations. No ordinary
mortal ever felt the raptureS OF hu-
dler; the fiddle is his bride, and the
honeymoon lasts forever.
l fddled and l hddled and hddIed'
until youth bloSsomed into manhood
- AA ia
and still hddled and l fiddled' ron
ticlans sneered at me as hddler' OUT