THE LITTLE FIFER[H]
By Helen M. Winslow
John Holden was lost. His mother’s faith that God would take care of her boy was rewarded, however, when it was discovered that John with his little fife was helping to drill the soldiers in Washington’s army.
MORE than a hundred years ago there lived, in the town of Shirley, Mass., a bright, well-grown lad named John Holden. His father was a farmer, and the little fellow trudged about the farm, clad in home-spun and home-made clothing, feeding calves, driving cows, and doing whatever his hands found to do “with all his might.�
One Saturday night John was early at the gate waiting for his father’s homecoming; for Saturday was the day when John Holden went to the village, and returned laden with packages and news from Boston—which to them was the centre of the world. A present was an unheard-of thing in little John’s life. What was his surprise, then, as his father rode up to the gate, to see him hand out a long black case, saying:
“Here, my boy, see what I’ve brought you for a birthday present.�
And imagine his greater astonishment, on opening the case, to see a beautiful fife of dark wood with silver trimmings!
The boy could hardly believe his own eyes; and as he was passionately fond of music he lost no time in beginning to learn the use of his newly acquired instrument. He carried the fife with him everywhere and practised on it in every spare moment, and before many months he was able to greatly astonish the villagers and won many a compliment by his skillful playing.
Just before the Revolutionary War the whole country, as every boy and girl ought to know, was in a state of ferment and dread. War seemed inevitable, and the oppressive rule of the English was the theme of conversation everywhere.
Little John heard much of it, and longed to be a man that he might join the “rebellious colonists.� And one day he received a compliment which set him thinking of matters in a way the older members of his family never mistrusted.