and sisters, was musical and played the
violin--or fiddle, as we called it,--and I have many dear remembrances
of her playing. _Napoleon's March_, _Money Musk_, _The Devil's Dream_
and half-a-dozen other simple tunes made up her repertoire. It was very
crude music of course but it added to the love and admiration in which
her children always held her. Also in some way we had fallen heir to a
Prince melodeon--one that had belonged to the McClintocks, but only my
sister played on that.

Once at a dance in neighbor Button's house, mother took the "dare" of
the fiddler and with shy smile played _The Fisher's Hornpipe_ or some
other simple melody and was mightily cheered at the close of it, a brief
performance which she refused to repeat. Afterward she and my father
danced and this seemed a very wonderful performance, for to us they were
"old"--far past such frolicking, although he was but forty and she
thirty-one!

At this dance I heard, for the first time, the local professional
fiddler, old Daddy Fairbanks, as quaint a character as ever entered
fiction, for he was not only butcher and horse doctor but a renowned
musician as well. Tall, gaunt and sandy, with enormous nose and sparse
projecting teeth, he was to me the most enthralling figure at this dance
and his queer "Calls" and his "York State" accent filled us all with
delight. "_Ally_ man left," "Chassay _by_ your pardners," "Dozy-do"
were some of the phrases he used as he played _Honest John_ and
_Haste to the Wedding_. At times he sang his calls in high nasal chant,
"_First_ lady lead to the _right_, deedle, deedle dum-dum--
_gent_ foller after--dally-deedle-do-do--_three_ hands round"--and
everybody laughed with frank enjoyment of his words and action.

It was a joy to watch him "start the set." With fiddle under his chin he
took his seat in a big chair on the kitchen table in order to command
the floor. "Farm on, farm on!" he called disgustedly. "Lively now!" and
then, when all the couples were in position, with one mighty No. 14 boot
uplifted, with bow laid to strings he snarled, "Already--GELANG!" and with
a thundering crash his foot came down, "Honors TEW your pardners--right and
left FOUR!" And the dance was on!

I suspect his fiddlin' was not even "middlin'," but he beat time fairly
well and kept the dancers somewhere near to rhythm, and so when his
ragged old cap went round he often got a handful of quarters for his
toil. He always ate two suppers, one at