It was that same evening old Elias, Colonel Bill's body-servant and general
assistant, noticed a most surprising development in his young employer. One
of the Colonel's most prized possessions was a fiddle. It bad never been
known, in all the years he owned it, to utter aught except the most joyful
sounds. Whenever he picked it up, as he frequently did on winter nights,
when everybody gathered around the big wood fire in his room, the
stable-boys at once made ready to beat time to "Money Musk," "Old Dan
Tucker," and other cheerful airs.
On this particular night the Colonel seized the fiddle and strode gloomily
to the end of the stable. Presently there came forth upon the night air
such melancholy and dismal notes as made every stable-boy, from little Pete
to big Mose, shiver. As the lugubrious sounds continued, the boys fled to
their loft, leaving Elias, who had watched over the Colonel from his
infancy, to keep vigil, with a troubled look on his withered face. Many
nights thereafter was this singular proceeding repeated, to the
ever-increasing wonderment of Elias.
Every day during the meeting when Miss Braxton was at the track Colonel
Bill sought her out.
Pages:
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224