“How beautifully you play, Jackey! How did you learn? But why inquire? You have always been a good boy, and kinder, better spirits than those of the earth, seeing you so neglected by your unnatural father, have taken compassion on you. I have led a bad life, but now I see my faults, and I will be always kind to you, my Son. Oh, Jackey, your good mother will forgive me for all my past cruelty when she sees how I watch over her dear child!”
“Dear Father,” Jackey said, “my dear, good mother, who is in heaven, forgives you now. Oh, if she were but here to share our happiness!”
“Play me that tune once more,” his Father said, “and then we will go to your step-mother, and I will beg and pray of her to send you to school, for I can do nothing, my poor Boy.”
They went to that amiable lady, with whom, however, all prayers were in vain. She said she would not spend a farthing of her money on father or son, but that Jackey should be a shoemaker; that she would send him to her brother, who was a shoemaker in a neighbouring village, where he would soon be broken of his idle habits. Jackey said he would not be a shoemaker; whereupon she gave him a slap on the face, which made his ears sing and bright spots dance before his eyes, promising at the same time to break his fiddle over his head.
Jackey, however, was none the less determined not to be a shoemaker, and his only trouble was how to keep the dear fiddle out of her way. The next morning very early he was waked by a kiss from his father, who said—
“Get up quickly, my Boy, and dress yourself, for I cannot do anything for you here, not even protect you, and it will be better to trust to the kindness of strangers than go to that cruel woman’s brother, who no doubt is as bad as herself. We must part, my dear Jackey, but I do not fear for you, for wherever you play the airs you played me yesterday, you will be sure to find friends. Take your fiddle then, and wander forth into the world, and if you remain a good boy, as you have hitherto been, God will watch over you and protect you. Make haste; and in the meantime I will see what I can find to eat for you to take with you.”
Jackey was ready when his father returned with some provisions done up in a bag. “Now follow me,” he said, “and take care that you do not make any noise, so that no one may hear us.” They got out safely and went straight to the forest, where Jackey’s Father stopping, said to him, “You are now safe out of the clutches of your wicked stepmother, and we must part; but, my dear Boy, we will put our trust in Providence, and, if my life is spared a few years longer, I shall see you again, for when you prosper in the world, and prosper you will, my Son, you will not forget your old father.”
“Let me remain with you, my dear Father,” Jackey said, “for you are not happy, and I will try to cheer you with my fiddle. I do not mind my stepmother’s cruelty.”
“No, my Child, it must not be,” his Father answered, “I have deserved my fate, and will try and bear it with resignation; but fortune awaits you in the world, far from here. Do not cry; and now, with my blessing on you, we must part.” He pressed his son to his breast, and turned back without uttering another word.