Chapter One - John Moore: The Village Musician
He was born in a village on the hills, assuming that he was born; for some very good people seem to be more sent than born, and to be recalled rather than die. He was of this order...
...The next great event that he loved to recall was his admission into the village choir, when he learnt his notes and sang enthusiastically until his voice broke...He saved up every penny he could and bought a fiddle, which was his dearest friend all the days of his life...
...At last came the time when John could mow and plough no more, and he then came upon the parish, with his old wife, her blue eyes still bonny in her thin, deep-lined face. He was crippled in the legs, but as he sat in his arm-chair, the friendly fiddle in its green baize bag, and near him an old 'cello, lent him by a long dead clerical friend, he looked the picture of all that was dignified and saintly. His head was bald, except for a ring of snow-white hair which curved round the natural tonsure. He had mobile grey eyebrows, and those pretty, kindly half-moon eyes, which wrinkled into their crescents when he laughed. He shaved his face clean, and showed the even lines round the strong mouth, which moved in time to the wrinkled fingers, when they danced upon the strings.
He added to his interest and his little parish pay, by teaching all the children their notes, whether their parents sent halfpence or whether they did not. Every day, after school, he would have a little band of them. But he was a severe master, and by no means forgave a false note or a saucy answer. Sometimes he would buy a few sugar-plums to help them on, and sometimes he would bring the bowstick across their fat knuckles; but those who came regularly never departed without knowing B from bull's foot...
...One Lady Day the old man passed away very quietly without a pang. He was eighty nine; and his prayer had been granted, for his ear never waxed dim. His melody for "The radiant morn has passed away" was sung over his grave as he wished, by a few friends and old pupils, and so this chapter ends.
