But pitching grain and hog-killing were on the lower levels of his art,
for above all else Daddy loved to be called upon to play the fiddle for
dances. He "officiated" for the first time at a dance given by one of
the younger McTurgs. They were all fiddlers themselves,--had been for
three generations,--but they seized the opportunity of helping Daddy and
at the same time of relieving themselves of the trouble of furnishing
the music while the rest danced.
Milton attended this dance, and saw Daddy for the first time earning his
money pleasantly. From that time on the associations around his
personality were less severe, and they came to like him better. He came
early, with his old fiddle in a time-worn white-pine box. His hair was
neatly combed to the top of his long, narrow head, and his face was very
clean. The boys all greeted him with great pleasure, and asked him where
he would sit.
"Right on that table, sir; put a chair up there."
He took his chair on the kitchen-table as if it were a throne. He wore
huge moccasins of moose-hide on his feet, and for special occasions like
this added a paper collar to his red woollen shirt. He took off his coat
and laid it across his chair for a cushion. It was all very funny to the
young people, but they obeyed him laughingly, and while they "formed
on," he sawed his violin and coaxed it up to concert pitch, and twanged
it and banged it into proper tunefulness.
"A-a-a-ll ready there!" he rasped out, with prodigious force. "Everybody
git into his place!" Then, lifting one huge foot, he put the fiddle
under his chin, and, raising his bow till his knuckles touched the
strings, he yelled, "Already, G'LANG!" and brought his foot down with a
startling bang on the first note. _Rye doodle duo, doodle doo_.
As he went on and the dancers fell into rhythm, the clatter of heavy
boots seemed to thrill him with old-time memories, and he kept
boisterous time with his foot, while his high, rasping nasal rang high
above the confusion of tongues and heels and swaying forms.
"_Ladies_' gran' change! Four hands round! _Balance_ all! _Elly_-man
left! Back to play-cis."
His eyes closed in a sort of intoxication of pleasure, but he saw all
that went on in some miraculous way.
"_First_ lady lead to the right--_toodle rum rum!_ _Gent_ foller after
(step along thar)! Four hands round--"
The boys were immensely pleased with him. They delighted in his antics
rather than in his tunes, which were exceedingly few and simple. They
seemed never to be able to get enough of one tune which he called
"Honest John," and which he played in his own way, accompanied by a
chant which he meant, without a doubt, to be musical.
"HON-ers tew your pardners--_tee teedle deedle dee dee dee dee_! Stand
up straight an' put on your style! _Right_ an' left four--"
The hat was passed by the floor-manager during the evening, and Daddy
got nearly three dollars, which delighted Milton very much.
At supper he insisted on his prerogative, which was to take the
prettiest girl out to supper.
"Look-a-here, Daddy, ain't that crowdin' the mourners?" objected the
others.
"What do you mean by that, sir? No, sir! Always done it, in Michigan and
Yark State both; yes, sir."
He put on his coat ceremoniously, while the tittering girls stood about
the room waiting. He did not delay. His keen eyes had made selection
long before, and, approaching Rose Watson with old-fashioned, elaborate
gallantry, he said: "_May_ I have the pleasure?" and marched out
triumphantly, amidst shouts of laughter.
His shrill laugh rang high above the rest at the table, as he said: "I'm
the youngest man in this crowd, sir! Demmit, I bet a hat I c'n dance
down any man in this crowd; yes, sir. The old man can do it yet."
They all took sides in order to please him.
"I'll bet he can," said Hugh McTurg; "I'll bet a dollar on Daddy."
"I'll take the bet," said Joe Randall, and with great noise the match
was arranged to come the first thing after supper.
"All right, sir; any time, sir. I'll let you know the old man is on
earth yet."
While the girls were putting away the supper dishes, the young man lured
Daddy out into the yard for a wrestling-match, but some others objected.
"Oh, now, that won't do! If Daddy was a young man--"
"What do you mean, sir? I am young enough for you, sir. Just let me get
ahold o' you, sir, and I'll show you, you young rascal! you dem
jackanapes!" he ended, almost shrieking with rage, as he shook his fist
in the face of his grinning tormentors.
His friends held him back with much apparent alarm, and ordered the
other fellows away.
"There, there, Daddy, I wouldn't mind him! I wouldn't dirty my hands on
him; he ain't worth it. Just come inside, and we'll have that
dancing-match now."
Daddy reluctantly returned to the house, and, having surrendered his
violin to Hugh McTurg, was ready for the contest. As he stepped into the
middle of the room he was not altogether ludicrous. His rusty trousers
were bagged at the knee, and his red woollen stockings showed between
the tops of his moccasins and his pantaloon legs, and his coat, utterly
characterless as to color and cut, added to the stoop in his shoulders;
and yet there was a rude sort of grace and a certain dignity about his
bearing which kept down laughter. They were to have a square dance of
the old-fashioned sort.
"_Farrm_ on," he cried, and the fiddler struck up the first note of the
Virginia Reel. Daddy led out Rose, and the dance began. He straightened
up till his tall form towered above the rest of the boys like a
weather-beaten pine tree, as he balanced and swung and led and called
off the changes with a voice full of imperious command.
The fiddler took a malicious delight toward the last in quickening the
time of the good old dance, and that put the old man on his mettle.
"Go it, ye young rascal!" he yelled. He danced like a boy and yelled
like a demon, catching a laggard here and there, and hurling them into
place like tops, while he kicked and stamped, wound in and out and waved
his hands in the air with a gesture which must have dated back to the
days of Washington. At last, flushed, breathless, but triumphant, he
danced a final breakdown to the tune of "Leather Breeches," to show he
was unsubdued.