Humorous poem by the wife of family historian David James Watson
Nels Buchanan and a friend wanted to borrow a precious item from her father James, who was widowed and living with Dave and Minnie at the time.
Dad's Old Fiddle
And he said I am sleepy, I'll go take a snooze.
He’d being sleeping some hours it was midnight or more
When there came such a terrible bang at the door.
Surely someone must be in great pain.
Dave jumped out of bed and made tracks to the door
And when he got there, well no wonder he swore.
Saying “Davie we’ve come to borrow Dad's fiddle.
They're anxious to dance, so they all say
And we lost our own fiddle somewhere on the way.
So they sent us along for to try and get Dad’s”.
The night being so cold, and Dave's scantily dressed,
He hustled upstairs where Dad was at rest.
There's two Lads downstairs want to borrow your fiddle.”
Well you may be sure Dad bristled at once.
Said “They must think I am either a fool or a dunce.
Go back and tell them just what they can do.
Let them dance around the room or swing in the middle,
Or go to Sam Hill but they'll not get my fiddle.”
Said “They sent us to ask we've now done our part”.
Then Dave went shivering back to his bed.
While Dad fussed around in the room overhead.
And the boys went away and I know they were mad.
Saying “If we want the blamed fiddle we'll have to take Dad.”

