The Mad Fiddler of the North, Part Ii

...His performances went for hours, even when people drifted off, he’d kept playing in the tavern regardless of what others thought. He would wind down like some old clock, sometime playing straight through the night, then just stand up and wander off, all saw that his mind wasn’t right. This made him quite the wild-card, no one know what Goodall would do, sometimes he would go to churches and play masterful sacred tunes. But other times he draw the bow to fun songs like ‘Pop the Weasel,’ the churchgoers would just walk out, proclaiming it was ‘disgraceful.’ He was known to have crass language, sometimes swearing at random times, which undermined Goodall’s success, ruined him in the public’s mind. One time, when in a small city, booked into a hall that was full, he played sheer beauty for the crowd, then cried,”Christ, ain’t that beautiful!” The crowd, of course, then filed out, shocked by the man’s profane words, without all of these sullen moods countless riches would he have earned. One time, when he was in Malone, north the Adirondack peaks, he was meant to play a concert, the time came, and he was not seen. So the promoter went looking, and found Goodall was playing pool, had to threaten with a horsewhip, such antics were more than a few. In Watertown one man threatened to shoot Nick, drop him down a hole, because the man refused to play, often-times Goodall just went cold. Even one time in Elmira, where he’d been staying for a bit, the great musician, Ole Bole, heard of Nick’s skill, wanted to hear it. Before this virtuosic mind Nick sat silent, refused to move, to the point Ole chose to leave, then Mad Nick started up a tune. Now Ole Bole played violin, and made a great living from this, but even he watched Nick, enrapt, then said, “That man is a genius.” Spurred by this, some promoters tired to get Nick to play a big stage, surprisingly Mad Nick agreed, to Troy, New York they made their way. They put him in suit and top-hat, he looked not the tramp anymore, and Nick drew bow across the strings, no one knew the beauty in store. For two hours the people watched, stunned by the sheer beauty they heard, the promoter though all was well, as Nick’s bow just flurried and whirled. But when Nick just kept playing on, when the fiddler refused to stop, the people all drifted outside, and the rest of the tour was lost... CONCLUDES IN PART III.