Fiddler's Luck: The Gay Adventures of a Musical AmateurHoughton Mifflin, 1920 - 275 pages |
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Common terms and phrases
79th Division Abbé Quillper afternoon American arms asked band bass Beethoven began best cello Boche Brahms Brest brother bull-fiddle burst called captain cellist cello César Franck chamber music CHAPTER chord Colonel cried curate's egg dear dinner door doughboys eyes feel felt fiddle fiddler errant fiddler militant fiddler's luck fiddler's magic fingers flute France French German girl Gurlitt hand head heard heart hospital hour instrument Johnnie Josephine knew LA MARSEILLAISE lady lieutenant looked loud Madame medical major Méhul ment Meuse-Argonne offensive mind monsieur music-room musical amateur musician never Nice night officers once opus 59 orchestra Paris performance pianist piano Plattsburg play the cello play trios Priscilla pulled regiment sight solo sonatas soon sound sound-post Strad string quartet taxicab tell Thaïs thing thought told Tourniquet tune turned violin violinist voice whistling young
Popular passages
Page 207 - Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold, And the mate of the Nancy brig, And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite, And the crew of the captain's gig.
Page 185 - Seat ; But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth, When two strong men stand face to face, though they come from the ends of the earth.
Page 68 - JENNY kissed me when we met, Jumping from the chair she sat in; Time, you thief, who love to get Sweets into your list, put that in! Say I'm weary, say I'm sad, Say that health and wealth have missed me, Say I'm growing old, but add, Jenny kissed me.
Page 103 - Into this Universe, and Why not knowing Nor Whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing; And out of it, as Wind along the Waste, I know not Whither, willy-nilly blowing.
Page 3 - Voice he lov'd the best. They would have thought who heard the Strain, They saw in Tempe's Vale her native Maids, Amidst the festal sounding Shades, To some unwearied Minstrel dancing, While as his flying Fingers kiss'd the Strings, Love...
Page 47 - cello an upper berth in the special car. But I was overwhelmed with howls of derision and assurances that I was a very fresh freshman indeed. The first night my instrument reposed in some mysterious recess under a leaky cooler, where all too much water flowed under its bridge before the dawn. The second night it was compressed into a strait and narrow closet with brushes and brooms, whence it emerged with a hollow chest, a stoop, a consumptive quality of voice, and the malady known as compressio...
Page 57 - Finally he thought he would n't, but conceded that I might spend a night under his roof, as there was really nowhere else to go. At this pass something made me think of music. Perhaps it was the parlor piano which, when new, back in the stone age, had probably been in tune. I inquired whether there were any other instruments. The wreckage of a violin was produced. With two pieces of string and a table fork I set up the prostrate sound-post. I glued together the bridge and put it in position. The...
Page 130 - But as for the chap who whistles between his teeth, or sings out of tune, or twangs a degenerate guitar with wireloose strings in the next bed for twelve hours a day, while expressing in a cracked voice a Freudian wish for 'a girl just like the girl that married dear old dad...
Page 61 - Spanish mission style during fourteen years of joyous labor. This gentleman had no idea that I was to be thrust upon him. But his hospitality went so far as to insist, before the evening was over, that I must stay a week. He would not take no for an answer. And for my part I had no desire to say no, because he was a delightful person, his home with its leaf-filled patio was most alluring, and I had discovered promising possibilities for fiddlers errant in the splendid music-room and the collection...
Page 62 - Atlantic, are you?' he inquired. At my nod he very flatteringly unblocked the doorway and dragged me inside, pumping my hand up and down in a painful manner, shouting for his wife, and making various kind representations, all at the same time. And his talk gradually simmered down into an argument that of course the only thing to do was to fiddle together that very night. I asked who had the best 'cello in town. He told me the man's name, but looked dubious. 'The trouble is, he loves that big Amati...