to listen to the music, and for more than two hours we sat there listening to the old familiar tunes, played and sung by Bob, of ‘Auld Lang Syne,’ ‘Sweet Home,’ ‘Ben Bolt,’ ‘Do They Miss Me at Home,’ ‘The Old Folks at Home,’ as well as other songs that we had often heard among our friends and acquaintances at home. Well, the effect of this was that upon making a division at night Bob received his full share. Not a word of complaint was made against him by anyone then or ever afterwards, and he was given to understand that if he would, after the day’s work was done and we had lighted our pipes for the evening smoke, make our lonely evenings more cheerful by playing the old familiar airs, that he could jest work when or as little as he pleased on the claim.”
At this point an old-timer, who previous to this had been silent, remarked that but few persons are aware of the wonderful power of music, and its effect upon the mind under certain conditions. But of course we do not realize its magic influence except when placed as we were in early days so far from home and living, as you might say, in a semi-civilized condition among the mountains of a new country, that these old familiar songs that we heard in our younger days seem to strike with full force, and awaken memories that have lain dormant for many years perhaps.
“I remember a little incident,” he continued, “that occurred in early days in a small mining camp upon Murderer’s Bar on the Middle Fork of the American River, which illustrates this wonderful power of music.
“A young man from one of the Southern States was mining upon the bar. He had a good paying claim, but he got to drinking and spent most of his time loafing around among the saloons, and in a few months he got down about as low as ’twas possible for a man to get. He was in one of the gambling saloons one evening in company with two or three others who were about as low and degraded as he was, sitting at a table engaged in their usual game of poker, when all at once he arose to his feet and stood attentively listening to the music, a song that was being sung, and played on a violin, at the other end of the room. At the conclusion of the song he threw his cards upon the floor, and said that he had played his last card and drank his last drink, for that song that John Kelly had just sung had brought him to his senses, for ’twas the last piece he heard his sister sing when he left home a few years before.
“‘And, boys,’ said he, ‘from this time forward I lead a different life.’”
It was remarked by another that this same John Kelly was yet living, he believed.
He was a good musician as well as singer, and in early days played around in all the various mining camps.