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Some Real Fiddlin'


John D. Wells

I've knowed alot o' fellers who could fiddle mighty prime,
An' seemed t' me it allus sort o' settled in my toe
An' sent me "down the centre" in a record breakin' time
To balance on the corners with a girl I used t' know;
I've loved it— Oh, I loved it!— every soul endurin' chord
Comes ringin' down through my mem'ry till I think they're playin' yet;
But my idees are changin' since the other night I heard
A feller named MacMillan when he played a minuet!

Tbe men I've knowed that fiddled have been mostly "free-for-all"
As sayin' is, an' partial to the "Ol' Gray Eagle" brands
Of fiddle music mostly— that's the kind I've liked t' call
The "good old fashioned music that a pore man understands";
I reckon that I've loved it 'cause it's all I ever knew,
An' tooth an' nail I've fought for it an' bragged of it, an' yet
The other night I weakened an' I plum surrendered to
That feller named MacMillan when he played that minuet!

I've looked for words to rhyme it but, I swan, there's nary one
That's good enough or nowhere's near entrancin'-like an' sof'-
There wa'n't no way of tellin' where the melody begun
No more than what there was a way to tell where it left off!
It sort o' started somewhere like as if a master hand
Was reachin' down from somewhere like in fairy tales it does,
An' bowin' that 'ere fiddle for that man MacMillan and
A thousand times more sweeter than "Gray Eagle" ever was!

The music first reminded me of somethin' like a storm-
Of like enough an April storm of snow an' rain an' hail,
An' then he coaxed her down a bit until the sun shone warm
An' all the world was glad again an' chasin' of its tail!
It railly held me spellbound, sort o' mesmerized, for shore,
'Cause when that man MacMillan finished up his minuet
I was holdin' hands with some one that I never saw before!—
I wouldn't be a bit surprised if she was laffin' yet!