The Owosso times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1897-1926, 1915-12-31

Master! Jonas Periwinkle. Mas
ter" repeated the little voice an &C.
tave higher and more insistent
"Who calls me master?" said the
now thoroughly bewildered man, sum.
moning up his waning courage By al
extraordinary effort. I'm nobody's
master. I'm nothing but poor. hon.
est working man. toiling for daily
bread. master of neither chick nor
child nor Of anything in heaven or
earth"
Don't you know me then, masters"
came the voice again in tone of re-
proach. I'VE have been companions
for years. From early boyhood we
have lived together in sorrow and in
JOY. You have not forgotten your old
fiddle. have you?" And now the queer
little voice took on a tenderness of eX.
preston. like the playing of the wind
through the trees Of a summers day.
while its owner, the fiddle, leaned ca
ressingly back into its masters arms
\ wondrous transformation had taken
place In the thick darkness 1t seemed
TO shine with kindly light, and Jonas
Periwinkle thought it strange he had
never noticed before the likeness 10
the human face which now animated
his wornout old fiddle. All his fear
vanished.
Come, master DEAR" continued the
fiddle. "let us be young again, if just
for tonight. While all the world is
full of joy and brightness. let us so
back to dear old Bramble Hollow.
where we passed the happiest years Of
our lives. and spend our Christmas
there"
GLADLY would l." said Jonas sadly.
but the gates of the past are closed
against me forever"
Not so, dear master; not So" went
on the fiddle. II hold the key which
opens them. Take up the bow and
play the old time tunes once more.
The present will become as forgot
ten dream and the past the only re-
atty"
"Impossiblew answered Jonas. "Man
has no power to revivify the past"
But even as he spoke. without any vo-
lition Of his own, he grasped the bow
firmly and. impelled by some mys.
ferrous influence, drew it across the
strings which had been mute for years.
Backward and forward. up and down.
flew his hand, moved by that mighty
power, while out from the bosom Of
the old fiddle poured melody of
sound 1t had never known before.
trilling the tender old time song.
Home. home. sweet. sweet home"
1t seemed to Jonas Periwinkle the
echo of his mothers voice singing over
his cradle in the low rooted garnet
down on the old farm.
Jonas Periwinkle and his fiddle were
back again in the dear old farmhouse
In Bramble Hollow: back In the old
kitchen. with its low yellow washed
walls and sanded floor, all as natural
as when he had left it forty years ago.
The low settee. the high backed wood
en- chairs. the dish shelf. with its stiff
rows Of china; the tall clock In the cor.
ner striking the hour and hundred
other familiar objects Of his boyhOod
days greeted his astonished vision. In
the center Of the room stood the table
spread for supper, with dear mother
ut the head, pouring out the steaming
tea. and father ut the foot the cheerful
picture Of content. There were big
Brother Ben, drawn up ut the side be-
tween grandmother and blue eyed Sis.
ter Jane. and. opposite. shy little Kitty.
with her white pinafore and 6axen
curls. Over all the roaring log fire.
cracking and sparkling up the wide
chimney, threw its cheerful glow.
Come. JONAS" said his father. just
as naturally as when he was q strip
ling Of twenty-"cOme. lay aside your
fiddle now and draw up to the table.
See. mother is waiting"
What hallucination Is this? Had the
mythical beings of the olden time fairy
books woven their network of charm
about him? Jonas Periwinkle stared
in establishment His very heart leap
ed into his throat. for out in the
churchyard there had mother. father.
sister. brother, been sleeping these
many years-dead and gone.
Had the forty years intervening since
his youthful days been one long. ugly
dream Of grief and change and sepa-
ration and the graveyard yonder but
myth? Jonas Periwinkle turned to
the fiddle with questioning gaze. and
the fiddle whispered: 20 friend, take
your fill Of the pleasures Of the past!
Let your poor starved heart feast upon
the banquet Of love here spread for
you. The present is passing. Enjoy
it while You may"
And then again Jonas Perlwinkle's
hand. swayed by that same mystic
impulse, swept across the fiddle's
strings. when out rang the old familiar
strain he had played so often long ago.
The Campbells Are Coming"
And. 10. as IL by magician's wand.
the sweet home scene faded and an.
other came into view! He was now In
the rough country parlor Of the Black
Horse inn, where all the lads and
lassles Of Bramble Hollow and vicini.
ty were won't to gather to celebrate
the happy Christmas time. Here were
clustering Farmer Jones and Sister Pol.
ly; the Spriggleses. from the mill yon-
dor. epl Wood and CO,lsin Rose from