The Savannah morning news. (Savannah, Ga.) 1900-current, 1901-11-06
Our Daily Short Stories
A FIDDLING GHOST.
BY WILLIAM L1G HTFoor vIsscHER.
1conxright 1901. by Authors. syndicateo


ucation, reading and "way-back yon-
DER" refinement, that came out Curl
ously mingled with his wondrous as
sortment of Western and Southern
dialects, Chinook" jargon and straight
English.
The old man and the guide made a
supper for us, In a little grape vined
arbor, at the right of the house and
opposite to "Bills grave" after
which, as the chill of the night had be-
gun to come on, we repaired to the
largest of the two rooms in the cabin,
where before a blaze of fir bark, in a
huge fireplace, the old man was led
to talk of Dill
on some rows of shelves, at the
side of the fireplace, there were a
number of books, among them
Taine's English Literature" Plu-
tarch's Lives" "Josephus," transla-
tons of the Odyssey" and the "Iliad,"
Moores "Lalla Rookh," Scotts MAR
mion,' Hugo's Les Miserables," and
a number of Fieldings. Smollett's,
Thackeray's, Dickens and Bulwer's
novels, with other and later, popular
literature. Nearly all of these had the
name of William Brandeth written in
them.
BILL left the books to me-most of
started him talking of BILL" gener-
ally, which was exactly what we de-
sired.
bill was a good fellow" he re-
peated, but he had his faults. They
weren't such powerful bad faults gen.
orally, but they KEEP him back a heap.
And he KEEP me back. Him an me
were pardners and he was monstrous
good company. You never heard such
a talker as he was. People would sit
around and listen. to that mans tum-
tum from rosy morn till dewy eve, and
later. Bill was a powerful able bodied
liar, too. I've counted up on him and
found out that, taking the lumber of
years that he had been in China, Spain,
Mexico, and what not, that man was
289 years old before he was 45. He'd
done everything you could think of,
and he'd made you believe he was the
author of a brand of pills, if he'd ever
set in to do it.
THE way Bill Brandeth could play
the fiddle was a caution. He left his
fiddle to me, and / sorter took up
playin it after he went over the
range"
BY this time my companion had
reached the violin and handed it to the
old man, who, without any mock mod
esty excuses, took it and tuned it as he
talked
I'm getting along toard the end Of
the trip myself, he said, land my fin
gers amt as supple as they used to
be. Besides, I'm not up in any late mu-
sic, but I'll give you the best we've
got in the shop. Bill says it's skoo-
KUN enough, and he knows, for BITS
sperit comes and sets around here
with me a heap. Still don't believe in
Re nd OH
is the only one l allow to come loafin'
around where I. am. l couldn't take
to any strange ghost!"
By this time the old man had the in
strument in perfect tune, and he
brought from it, with graceful and as
tonishing execution, music from old
time operas, such as the charming
songs in THE Bohemian Girl" the ser
enade from Don Pasquale." and
touching strains from I'll Trovatore, y
together with snatches from the pop
ular songs of ten, fifteen and twenty
years before. Sometimes his eyes
would dance with merriment. when the
music was that way, and then they
would fill with tears when it was ten
der and pathetic.
Laying aside the instrument. at last,
he said: Bill could play better than
that, but l don't think he enjoyed ii
any better than 1 do.
bill did lots of wild things. But he
did lots of good things. too" the old
man went on. However, he didn't
like to have anything much said about
his better ways, so l won't mention
'em, for ! know he'd upbraid me about
1t the next time he comes around.
Bill had been torable drunk in every
whoop- up-and- boom, from the time
Westport Landin' climbed up the banks
of the Missouri river and called herself
Kansas City, through the Comstock
and Phoebe, back to Leadville and
down the Gunnison, all over, every
where, in the mountains and on the
coast, till finally him and me brought
up at Conconnully, up here in the Okla
hogan.
"As usual, Bill was fiddlin', singin'
tellin' stories, playin' cards, givin' his
honeywell, never mind that-hav-
ing a good time, till one day up there
a fellow-a pretty good fellow, at that
but over full-called Bill a name thai
the Kaintucky statutes make it q
breach of the peace to call a man, and
they locked horns. When the cleaning
up came Bill was all right, but the
other fellow had quit. Then I brought
Bill over here. and we settled down or
this ranch. We hadn't been here Ions
before Bill-poor old Bill Brandeth-
decided to climb the golden stair.
laid him out yonder and he's rested
there quiet enough ever since, except
in that he comes in here and sets VI
with me, sociable to a fraction, and
generally of nights. and we talk and
play the fiddle. Pretty nigh every time
Bill gets hold of the fiddle he play!
that kind of music that folks call QUICK
and dev'lish, but If anybody happens
along he SCOTS.
II hated to see old Bill go over the
range, but it was the best thing thai
could have happened to both of us
for / just naturally followed him about
till l was no good for anything. Ever
since we've been over here we've beer
doing pretty well. 1 tend his grave
closer than I do most anything else
and some day I'll go in there witt
him, reckon
Among the old mans books was q
Latin Reader-a school hook-and or
one of the fly leaves. brown with age
were the almost faded words: Pau
Mitchell, His Book" This was the
old mans real name. He had taken Il
back now. And he had buried his for.
mer self as poor, old, wild Bill Bran.
deth.