Publisher's Synopsis
And he didn't have a bed and he didn't have a bite, And if he hadn't fiddled he'd a travelled all night." BOSEPHUS paused in his mad flight to listen. Surely this was someone playing the violin, and the tune was familiar. He listened more intently. "But he came to a cabin and an old gray man, And says he, 'Where am I going? Now tell me if you can--'" It was the "Arkansaw Traveller" and close at hand. The little boy tore hastily through the brush in the direction of the music. The moon had come up, and he could see quite well, but he did not pause to pick his way. As he stepped from the thicket out into an open space the fiddling ceased. It was bright moonlight there, too, and as Bosephus took in the situation his blood turned cold.
