The commercial. (Union City, Tenn.) 190?-193?, 1902-04-04
JOHNS OLD FIDDLE.

John Cadwallader was rapidly ac-
quiring the reputation of being "a
dead one" For two years he had
clung to his almost mental position
in the law offices Of Burrell, Jones
& Burrell without winning any laurels
or any considerable fees. He lived
like hermit and worked like slave,
but he didn't "arriye" to any purpose;
his clothes were getting frayed, and
his chances even as "a possibility"
were diminishing instead of increas-
ing. He slept in the office, doing
chores secretly in the early morning
hours, reading necessarily, wearing
collars on both sides and turning his
cuffs till the limits of economy and
patience seemed to have been reached.
He kept his old fiddle under the
big book case in Jones office, and
played it surreptitiously at night,
when his eyes were tired of the books
and his famished heart yearned for
companionsbip. Burrell senior
dropped in one night after the thea
ter, and caught him playing some old
fugue that sounded especially dreary
in the deserted offices.
you'd better put in your time
reading law" growled the head of
the firm, scowling at the young law
yer; "you've been here over a year,
and you're not worth your salt yet.
Why in h don't you get move on,
john"
After that Cadwallader was the
butt of all the office jokes. They
called him Fiddler John" and "Cad-
wallader the Bard" and the years of
his faithful servitude were swept away
in the light breeze of laughter. But
he had the stubborn Scotch persever-
ance, and bore his martyrdom like a
stole. He could stand the furtive
irony of Burrell senior and of Jones,
but the quips of young Burrell en-
ragged him to sullen silence
"The ass" thought John, as he
stitched another patch on his ragged
overcoat, "he'd starve too if his IA
Their didn't keep him up. If got
half the chances he's had I'd be
member of the firm on my merits by
this time. And if they ever starve me
out, if they ever do, l won't do a
thing to that featherhead."
The most important case of the
year was Hoxie VS.. Deland, and the
Burrells and Jones kept Cadwallader
busy for weeks digging for precedentS
and doing the drudgery in the case.
Sometimes he would get five dollars
all in heap and sometimes a kind
word, but there was little chance for
fame or profit in the grinding, stupe-
flying routine of his duties. Two days
before the case was to be called Bur-
rell senior fell i'll, and the next morn
ing Jones, who was handling it,
rushed into the office tuning.
"By the Lord, George" he roaredat
young BurreIl, "here's pretty mess.
I've got to 60 to Omaha tonight
got to-do you hear? Your father
is sick, and Clifford, the old wolf, is
for Hoxie in this case. It comes up
tomorrow morning and wemust have
a continuance. See?"
'Well, we'll get a continuance.
Well see Clifford and"
''See the d-r bawled Jones, slam
ming a book against the wall, "he's
the meanest, orneriest, cussedest old
coyote in Chicago, It'll tickle him
to death to get a chance to refuse.
We have no excuse, anyhow. You
might as well ask a loan Of a miser."
And Jones paced the office like a
Gagged lion. "And I've got to 60" he
unused aloud, biting his lip, GIVE got
to. It's the Dillingham; case at Oma-
ha. We lGt $4,000 if stay, and if
/ go old Cliford'll beat US"
Cadwallader had his nose in law
book when Jones entered, but now he
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