- description
- # THE FIDDLER
## Overview
"The Fiddler" is a segment of text, spanning lines 900 to 959, extracted from a larger document. It was created on January 30, 2026.
## Context
This segment is part of the document titled "[The Apple-Tree Table and Other Sketches](arke:01KG6YFXZ62W4FVZVEZTBSQNZY)". The document itself was extracted from the file "the_apple_tree_table_and_other_sketches.txt" and belongs to the "[Melville](arke:01KG6YCG626JN4FCG8QK17CQCF)" collection. "The Fiddler" follows the segment titled "[COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO](arke:01KG6YGAW39D2BV4XP86FC7EAE)" and precedes the segment titled "[POOR MAN'S PUDDING AND RICH MAN'S CRUMBS](arke:01KG6YGAW751DPH4CF7JDZSK7T)".
## Contents
The text describes a domestic scene where the narrator, his wife, and daughters are spending an evening. Initially, the family is engaged in conversation and a game of whist, though the daughters are reluctant to participate. The narrative then shifts to a suspenseful atmosphere as the family awaits the appearance of a mysterious "bug" that has been making ticking sounds. The segment details their attempts to remain calm and observant, with the narrator adopting a philosophical stance. The tension escalates with sudden noises, which are initially mistaken for supernatural occurrences but are later attributed to bottled cider. The segment concludes with a journal entry detailing the ongoing ticking and the family's growing weariness.
- description_generated_at
- 2026-01-30T07:58:10.507Z
- description_model
- gemini-2.5-flash-lite
- description_title
- THE FIDDLER
- end_line
- 959
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T07:57:25.113Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 900
- text
- wife was a female Democritus. For my part, my present feelings were of
a mixed sort. In a strange and not unpleasing way, I gently oscillated
between Democritus and Cotton Mather. But to my wife and daughters
I assumed to be pure Democritus--a jeerer at all tea-table spirits
whatever.
So, laying in a good supply of candles and crackers, all four of us
sat up with the table, and at the same time sat round it. For a while
my wife and I carried on an animated conversation. But my daughters
were silent. Then my wife and I would have had a rubber of whist, but
my daughters could not be prevailed upon to join. So we played whist
with two dummies literally; my wife won the rubber and, fatigued with
victory, put away the cards.
Half past eleven o'clock. No sign of the bug. The candles began to
burn dim. My wife was just in the act of snuffing them, when a sudden,
violent, hollow, resounding, rumbling, thumping was heard.
Julia and Anna sprang to their feet.
"All well!" cried a voice from the street. It was the watchman, first
ringing down his club on the pavement, and then following it up with
this highly satisfactory verbal announcement.
"All well! Do you hear that, my girls?" said I, gayly.
Indeed it was astonishing how brave as Bruce I felt in company with
three women, and two of them half frightened out of their wits.
I rose for my pipe, and took a philosophic smoke.
Democritus forever, thought I.
In profound silence, I sat smoking, when lo!--pop! pop! pop!--right
under the table, a terrible popping.
This time we all four sprang up, and my pipe was broken.
"Good heavens! what's that?"
"Spirits! spirits!" cried Julia.
"Oh, oh, oh!" cried Anna.
"Shame!" said my wife, "it's that new bottled cider, in the cellar,
going off. I told Biddy to wire the bottles to-day."
I shall here transcribe from memoranda, kept during part of the night.
"_One o'clock. No sign of the bug. Ticking continues. Wife getting
sleepy._
"_Two o'clock. No sign of the bug. Ticking intermittent. Wife fast
asleep._
"_Three o'clock. No sign of the bug. Ticking pretty steady. Julia and
Anna getting sleepy._
"_Four o'clock. No sign of the bug. Ticking regular, but not spirited.
Wife, Julia, and Anna, all fast asleep in their chairs._
- title
- THE FIDDLER