Part 20 (1/2)

SAMUEL JAMES.

You don't seem as gay hearted as I would expect, does he Mr. Taylor?

You'd think he was for getting hung or somethin'. I suppose ye heerd all about him givin' up the fiddle playin'? And the luck o' it. To burn his ould fiddle, and then get another a few days after. You'd think there was some sort of a strange warnin' or advice or somethin'

in it.

TAYLOR.

It is very strange.

ROBBIE JOHN.

Samuel James do ye remember the time that ould tramp was playin' on this fiddle, as he went out that day, down the loney?

[Samuel James nods.]

Well, it seemed to me as if he were playin' to bring me out after him.

D'ye mind the story, Mr. Taylor, about the piper that went off with all the children, and was niver heard tell of again.

TAYLOR.

Aye.

ROBBIE JOHN.

Well I could feel him drawin' me out after him the very same way. And last night, as sure as death, I heard the same uncanny air singin' in my ears, and it seemed to be callin' me to come out o' this.

TAYLOR.

[Exchanges startled looks with Samuel James.]

Och I suppose the wind or somethin' outside. But there's no doubt Robbie you have a genius for the fiddle. There was a German professor of music at Newcastle the day you won the prize and he was--But its not right of me to make you vexed, now you've stopped playin'.

SAMUEL JAMES.

Ach he doesn't mind you tellin'. Do ye Robbie? Tell and hearten him up a wee bit.

TAYLOR.

This German was so struck with your playin' that he was lookin' for you all roads, but you were nowhere to be found.

ROBBIE JOHN.