The Birthday Party: A Story for Little Folks by Oliver Optic

Author:Oliver Optic [Optic, Oliver]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

The Old Fiddler.

IV.

When the children had done marching, Mrs. Lee took charge of the games. Several new plays, which none of them had heard of before, were introduced. The boys and girls all liked them very well, and the time passed away most rapidly.

Just before they were going to supper, an old man, with a fiddle in his hand, tottered into the garden, and down the lawn. He was a very queer-looking old man. He had long white hair, and a long white beard.

He was dressed in old, worn-out, soldier clothes, in part, and had a sailor’s hat upon his head, so that they could not tell whether he was a soldier or a sailor.

As he approached the children, they began to laugh with all their might; and he certainly was a very funny old man. His long beard and hair, his tattered finery, and his hobbling walk, would have made almost any one laugh—much more a company of children as full of fun as those who were attending the birthday party.

“Children,” said the old man, as he took off his hat and made a low bow, “I heard there was a party here, and I came to play the fiddle for you. All the boys and girls like a fiddle, because it is so merry.”

“O mother! what did send that old man here?” cried Flora.

“He came of himself, I suppose,” replied Mrs. Lee, laughing.

“I think it is too bad to laugh at an old man like him,” added Flora.

“It would be, if he were in distress; but don’t you see he is as merry as any of the children?”

“Play us some tunes,” said the children.

“I will, my little dears;” and the old man raised the fiddle. “Let’s see—I will play ‘Napoleon’s Grand March.’”

The fiddler played, but he behaved so queerly that the children laughed so loud they could hardly hear the music.

“Why, that’s ‘Yankee Doodle,’” said Henry Vernon; and they all shouted at the idea of calling that tune “Napoleon’s Grand March.”

“Now I will play you the solo to the opera of ‘La Sonnambula,’” said the old man.

“Whew!” said Henry.

The old man fiddled again, with the same funny movements as before.

“Why, that’s ‘Yankee Doodle’ too!” exclaimed Henry.

“I guess he don’t know any other tune.”

“You like that tune so well, I will play you ‘Washington’s March;’” and the funny old fiddler, with a great flourish, began to play again; but still it was “Yankee Doodle.”

And so he went on saying he would play many different tunes, but he played nothing but “Yankee Doodle.”

“Can’t you tell us a story now?” asked Charley Green.

“O, yes, my little man, I can tell you a story. What shall it be?”

“Are you a soldier or a sailor?”

“Neither, my boy.”

“The story! the story!” shouted the boys, very much excited.

“Some years ago I was in New York,” the old man commenced.

“Did you see me there?” demanded Tommy Woggs.

“Well, my little man, I don’t remember that I saw you.”

“O, I was there;” and Tommy thrust his hands down

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