Page:Little Daffydowndilly-1887.djvu/23

Rh you please, sir, I don&rsquo;t want to see the soldiers any more.&rdquo;

So the child and the stranger resumed their journey; and, by and by, they came to a house by the roadside, where a number of people were making merry. Young men and rosy-cheeked girls, with smiles on their faces, were dancing to the sound of a fiddle. It was the pleasantest sight that Daffydowndilly had yet met with, and it comforted him for all his disappointments.

&ldquo;Oh, let us stop here,&rdquo; cried he to his companion; &ldquo;for Mr. Toil will never dare to show his face where there is a fiddler, and where people are dancing and making merry. We shall be quite safe here!&rdquo;

But these last words died away upon Daffydowndilly&rsquo;s tongue; for, happening to cast his eyes on the fiddler, whom should he behold again but the likeness of Mr. Toil, holding a fiddle-bow instead of a birch rod, and flourishing it with as much ease and dexterity as if he had been a fiddler all his life! He had somewhat the air of a Frenchman, but still looked exactly like the old schoolmaster; and Daffydowndilly even fancied that he nodded and winked at him, and made signs for him to join in the dance.

&ldquo;Oh dear me!&rdquo; whispered he, turning pale, &ldquo;It seems as if there was nobody but Mr. Toil in the world. Who could have thought of his playing on a fiddle!&rdquo;

&ldquo;This is not your old schoolmaster,&rdquo; observed the stranger, &ldquo;but another brother of his, who was bred in France, where he learned the profession of a fiddler. He is ashamed of his family, and generally calls himself Monsieur le Plaisir; but his real name is Toil, and those who have known him best think him still more disagreeable than his brothers.&rdquo;