The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1915-01-23
The Call Of Danny's Fiddle.

| OuDHn street the spirit or Christmas
had found its way, and was moving
people to do unwonted things. Big,
strong men were to be seen standing
at shop counters, gingerly handling
/ frail-looking tin toys which would, in
a few hours more-on Christmas
morning-bring delight and JOY into
many a young heart; women were
seeking greeting cards with sentiment
tai verses and pictures of robin red
breast, holly sprays and joybells all
over them, to send to some friend who
had been forgotten until the eleventh
hour, and who very likely had not been
communicated with for fully a twelve
month before; street vendors We're an
nouncing in lusty tones to all whom
it might or might not concern that
never before in that same Dublin
street, or in any part of the world,
had such wonderful wares as they car
ried been offered for sale at such alb
surdly low prices; and little bare.
foot children, whose lives were seldom
lighted with ray of real joy, and for
whom Christmas had not much mean.
ing, were trying to convince them
selves that they were sharers in the
merriment and the gladness and the
hustle all about them. The spirit of
Christmas had crept into that wind.
swept Dublin street.
The fiddler was a sorry-looking
figure in the midst of all the excite.
ment, as his numb fingers did their
Fbest to work the bow, and to draw
from the old fiddle the strains of
THE Foggy Dew" He might be any
age, for his hair was almost white
and his form seemed as if it had bat
tied with many storms, but there was
something youthful and something
good in his thin, dreamy face that
stamped him as being above the or
binary obtrusive and aggressive
tramp. He moved along slowly from
one part of the street to another, but
leyery time he played it was "The
Foggy Dew that came to the ears
of those who cared to listen, and they
4 were not many, though the music was
fairly good, and this was the night
lof sweet and tender memories.
F He was crossing the street from
one door to another opposite, and, en-
crossed in his thoughts, whatever
they were, he did not hear the car
approaching. The driver shouted and
tried to pull in his horse, but it was
too late; and, almost before anyone
had noticed it, an accident had hap
pened, and the poor fiddler and his
fiddle were lying side by side in the
tstreet.
The one passenger on the cara
, well-dressed, middle-aged mani jump.
ed to the ground at once, helped the
4 fiddler to his feet, and asked him in
kindly voice, that had in it slight
American ''twang," if he was hurt
No, he wasn't hurt at all, only a bit
dazed and dizzy-like, but-was the
fiddle broken?
, ooh, hang the fidd1e!" said the
other, greatly relieved 1--WE can east.
:. 1y buy you one. It's not broken any.
how" he added, as he took it from
the jaryey and handled it to its owner.
Tell me''-as a sudden thought seem
ed to0strike him, and an odd CLEAN
came into his eyes-"can you play
The Foggy Dew?'"
Its what l was playing a few min.
, utes ago." said the fiddler, as he lifted
the fiddle to his shoulder to play the
old tune again.
I mo, not here, said the stranger
: hurriedE, as he saw for the first time
t that a crowd had collected; up with
5 you here on the car, and come will
! me to where I'm staying. I want yor
. to play a few tunes for me-
5 And; before the fiddler knew quite
3 clearly what was taking place, he was
: out of the mud of the street, seated
5 by the strangers side on a comfort
d able car, and was being driven in no
/ haste to cosy, quiet hotel, at the
e door of which he had played many
: and many a time.
When they had partaken of goot
L meal-all by themselves at the stran
e gers request-and when they were
e seated by the big glowing fire, the
S fiddle was tuned again.
S "Play up The Foggy. Dew now,
S said the stranger, as he lay back IL
o his cosy chair; tits twenty long years
s since heard it played in Ireland, anc
+ was then poorer and a happier mar
p than am to-day. Play it as long al
nl you like
e The other played it for Ions
Z. enough, with vague wonder in hi
r heart all the time at the suddel
n change from the dreary streets to thii
v comfortable room; and then he playeC
other tunes-lively dances, and thrill
ing marches, and haunting old airs
with touch he could not coax int
the bow an hour before. And thu
stranger shaded his eyes with hi
eyes with his hand, and gazed int
! the heart of the fire, seeing picture:
OF the bygone happy days beyond thu
chasm of twenty years to exile.
you have done me a world O
good" he said, earnestly, and will
: little break in his voice, when a
last the fiddler laid the how across
7 his knees. 81 have lived for the las
half-hour. in home-a happy home
that l used to know before the cal
of the restless world came to my ears
/ and / went out into it, to fight ant
I scramble and strive. for wealth.
! saw that home now as you played.
am going to look for it this very night
and to ask gentle sister, and a kind
true brother, and loving mother-ii