Gov. Bob. Taylor's Tales

Who would not have been touched by such an appeal? The record was examined; Christmas eve came; the Governor sat that night at his own happy fireside, surrounded by his own happy children; and he played one tune to them on that rough fiddle. The hearthstone of the cabin in the mountains was bright and warm; a pardoned prisoner sat with his baby on his knee, surrounded by his rejoicing children, and in the presence of his happy wife, and although there was naught but poverty around him, his heart sang: "Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home;" and then he reached up and snatched his fiddle down from the wall, and played "Jord