"Fiddle" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... there was not a breath of air astir, and the stillness was almost overwhelming. The frost cramped his muscles and drove the courage out of him, and, as he plodded down the trail, he heard Jacques, the French-Canadian cook, tuning his battered fiddle. A little burst of laughter broke through the twanging of the strings, and Nasmyth closed one hand hard as he strode on faster into the darkness. There was as much of the animal in him as there is ...
— The Greater Power • Harold Bindloss
... arrayed glasses, pannikins, and bottles, Behind this, Long Potter stood, dispensing refreshments to his guests, for which they paid in coin of the realm or gold dust. The music was provided by an old sailor with a fiddle and two concertinas, and if the guttering tallow candles and evil-smelling oil lamps did not provide light enough, outside was the glorious moon, now at the full, a round yellow disc poised in the dark, velvety sky. They were a rough crowd, ...
— The Moving Finger • Mary Gaunt
... miles ain't to be sneezed at, an' when you throw in fifteen miles of desert an' a sand-storm to boot, it's what I call a pretty good day's work; yet I'm feelin' fine as a fiddle," he said in a tone of satisfaction, after which he made an apology for a toilet at the ...
— Dick in the Desert • James Otis
... either, without that. I remember, not long after the war begun—perhaps in the second year, before the conscription came on, anyhow—he came into town riding of a black colt that he had raised. I don't think it had been backed more than a few times, and it was just as fine as a fiddle. I've had some fine horses myself, and believe I know what goes to make up a good nag, but I've never seen one that suited my notion as well as that black. Le Moyne had taken a heap of pains with him. A lot of folks gathered 'round and was admiring the beast, and ...
— Bricks Without Straw • Albion W. Tourgee
... up that afternoon; so right after school Nora and I started out to the Conservatory. I was very nervous, and my violin is not a very good one; Phil says it's nothing but a fiddle, and that the old second-hand dealer from whom we bought them—Fee has one, too,—cheated us. They certainly do squeak dreadfully, at times, when you least expect it; but then we didn't pay much for them,—you may know that, ...
— We Ten - Or, The Story of the Roses • Lyda Farrington Kraus
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