Thenceforth the pupil becomes a master, and
can make trees leap, rivers stay their course and people bow to his
will.
Those of us who were brought up on English nursery rhymes early loved
the fiddle. Old King Cole, that merry old soul, was a prime favorite,
notwithstanding his fondness for pipe and bowl, because when he called
for them he called for his fiddlers three and their very fine fiddles.
According to Robert of Gloucester, the real King Cole, a popular monarch
of Britain in the third century, was the father of St. Helena, the
zealous friend of church music. The nursery satire of doubtful
antiquity is our sole evidence of his devotion to the art.
That John who stoutly refused to sell his fiddle in order to buy his
wife a gown placed the ideal above the material. It is to be hoped Mrs.
John enjoyed music more than gay attire. Certainly the dame who was
forced to dance without her shoe until the master found his
fiddling-stick knew the worth of the fiddler's art.
It may have been from a play on the word catgut that so many of these
ditties represent pussy in relation with the fiddle.
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