Gov. Bob. Taylor's Tales.
"THE FIDDLE AND THE BOW," "THE PARADISE OF FOOLS", "VISIONS AND DREAMS."
ILLUSTRATED.
Published by
DeLONG RICE & COMPANY. Nashville, Tenn.
Copyrighted, 1896.
All rights reserved by DeLong Rice & Co.
UNIVERSITY PRESS CO., NASHVILLE, TENN.
PREFACE.
This volume presents the first publication of the famous lectures of Governor Robert L. Taylor. His great popularity as an orator
and entertainer, and his wide reputation as a humorist, have caused repeated inquiries from all sections of the country for his lectures in book form; and this has given rise to an earlier publication than was expected.
The lectures are given without the slightest abridgment, just as delivered from the platform throughout the country. The consecutive chain of each is left undisturbed; and the idea of paragraphing, and giving headlines to the various subjects treated, was conceived merely for the convenience of the reader.
In the dialect of his characters, the melody of his songs, and the originality of his quaint, but beautiful conceptions, Governor Tay-
lor's lectures are temples of thought, lighted with windows of fun.
DeLong Rice.
Temples of Thought, Lighted with Windows
1
Of Fun.
CONTENTS.
"THE FIDDLE AND THE BOW." 9
Cherish the Little Ones 19
Fat Men and Bald-Headed Men 22
The Poet Laureate of Music 23
The Convict and His Fiddle 25
A Vision of The Old Field School 27
The Quilting and the Old Virginia Reel 36
The Candy Pulling 44
The Banquet 48
There is Music All Around Us 53
The Two Columns. 61
There is a Melody for Every Ear 63
Music is the Wine of the Soul 66
The Old Time Singing School 72
The Grand Opera 78
Music 80
"THE PARADISE OF FOOLS." 83
The Paradise of Childhood 90
The Paradise of the Barefooted Boy 98
The Paradise of Youth 104
The Paradise of Home 112
Bachelor and Widower 117
Phantoms 119
The False Ideal 121
The Circus in the Mountains 123
The Phantom of Fortune 128
Clocks 130
The Panic 133
Bunk City 135
Your Uncle 137
Fools 140
Blotted Pictures 143 "VISIONS AND DREAMS." 147
The Happy Long Ago 151
Dreams of the Years to Come 160
From the Cave-man to the Kiss-o-phone 169
Dreams 175
Visions of Departed Glory 178
Nature's Musicians 181
Preacher's Paradise 185
Brother Estep and the Trumpet 189
"Wamper-jaw" at the Jollification 190
The Tintinnabulation of the Dinner Bells 193
Phantoms of the Wine Cup 196
The Missing Link 197
Nightmare 198
2
Infidelity 200
The Dream of God 201
"THE FIDDLE AND THE BOW."
I heard a great master play on the wondrous violin; his bow quivered like the wing of a bird; in every quiver there was a melody, and every melody breathed a thought in language sweeter than was ever uttered by human tongue. I was conjured, I was mesmerized by his music. I thought I fell asleep under its power, and was rapt into the realm of visions and dreams. The enchanted violin broke
out in tumult, and through the rifted shadows in my dream I thought I saw old ocean lashed to fury. The wing of the storm-god brooded above it, dark and lowering with night and tempest and war. I heard the shriek of the angry hurricane, the loud rattling musketry of rain, and hail, and the louder and deadlier crash and roar of the red artillery on high. Its rumbling batteries, unlimbered on the vapory heights and manned by the fiery gunners of the storm, boomed their volleying thunders to the terrible rythm of the strife below. And in every stroke of the bow fierce lightnings leaped down from their dark pavilions of cloud, and, like armed angels of light, flashed their trenchant blades among the phantom squadrons marshalling for battle on the field of the deep. I heard the bugle blast and battle cry of the charging winds, wild and exultant, and then I saw the billowy monsters rise, like an army of Titans, to scale and carry the hostile heights of heaven. Assailing again and again, as often hurled back headlong into the ocean's abyss, they rolled, and surged, and writhed, and raged, till the affrighted earth trembled at the uproar of the warring elements. I saw the awful majesty and might of Jehovah flying on the wings of the tempest, planting his footsteps on the trackless deep, veiled in darkness and in clouds. There was a shifting of the bow; the storm died away in the distance, and the morning broke in floods of glory. Then the violin revived and poured out its sweetest soul. In its music I heard the rustle of a thousand joyous wings, and a burst of song from
a thousand joyous throats. Mockingbirds and linnets thrilled the glad air with warblings; gold finches, thrushes and bobolinks trilled their happiest tunes; and the oriole sang a lullaby to her hanging cradle that rocked in the wind. I heard the twitter of skimming swallows and the scattered covey's piping call; I heard the robin's gay whistle, the croaking of crows, the scolding of blue-jays, and the melancholy cooing of a dove. The swaying treetops seemed vocal with bird-song while he played, and the labyrinths of leafy shade echoed back the chorus. Then the violin sounded the hunter's horn, and the deep-mouthed pack of fox hounds opened loud and wild, far in the ringing woods, and it was like the music of a hundred chiming bells. There was a tremor of the bow, and I heard a flute play, and a harp, and a golden-mouthed cornet; I heard the mirthful babble of happy voices, and peals of laughter ringing in the swelling tide of pleasure. Then I saw a vision of snowy arms, voluptuous forms, and light fantastic slippered feet, all whirling and floating in the mazes of the misty dance. The flying fingers now tripped upon the trembling strings like fairy-feet dancing on
the nodding violets, and the music glided into a still sweeter strain. The violin told a story of human life. Two lovers strayed beneath the elms and oaks, and down by the river side, where daffodils and pansies bend and smile to rippling waves, and there, under the bloom of incense-breathing bowers, under the soothing sound of humming bees and splashing waters, there, the old, old story, so old and yet so new, conceived in heaven, first told in Eden and then handed down through all the ages, was told over and over again. Ah, those downward drooping eyes, that mantling blush, that trembling hand in meek submission pressed, that heaving breast, that fluttering heart, that whispered "yes," wherein a heaven lies--how well they told of victory won and paradise regained! And then
he swung her in a grapevine swing. Young man, if you want to win her, wander with her amid the elms and oaks, and swing her in a
grapevine swing.
"Swinging in the grapevine swing,
Laughing where the wild birds sing;
I dream and sigh for the days gone by,