THE DARKIE FIDDLER. 447 



we give it none. Yet there is one droll incident with which 

 my boyhood was familiar, which seems to indicate a certain 

 susceptibility to the softer emotions — or more refined senses 

 — at least. 



In the early days of the settlement of South Kentucky, 

 there was great trouble with the wolves. The large gray 

 wolf of the more wooded northern and middle districts, greatly 

 abounded in the heavy forests of the Green River Bottom, 

 particularly in the neighborhood of Henderson, which is 

 situated on the Ohio, not far below the mouth of Green 

 River. The barn-yard suffered to a great extent, in the way 

 of pigs, calves, etc., from their depredations, which frequently, 

 in mid-winter, were even carried to the audacious extreme 

 of attacking human beings. Indeed, it was no unusual thing 

 for the belated footman, at such times, when they were 

 pressed by hunger, to find himself surrounded by a herd of 

 them in the woods. Some striking stories of hair-breadth 

 escapes and desperate ventures, belong to this period and 

 condition of things. No one of them ever made a stronger 

 impression upon me than the adventure of old Dick, the 

 fiddler. 



He was "a good old good-for-nothing darkie," as the word 

 went in the neighborhood, whose sole merit consisted in his 

 fiddling — but, by the way ! — singular as this merit was, — it 

 in reality constituted him by far the most important "gemmen 

 of color" within forty miles around. The fact is, nothing 

 of any interest could occur without his presence ! It was 

 as important — skinny as it was ! — as the very face of the 

 man in the moon, — beneath whose auspices the corn-shockings, 

 the weddings, the "break-downs" and Juba dances of the 

 neighborhood were enacted. 



Old Dick, who was the property of one of the Hendersons, 

 from whom the town and county take their names, was 

 esteemed by his good-natured and wealthy master as decidedly 



