The Fiddler's Tune Poem by David Welch

There was a fiddler, back in eighty-three,
a young fellow who called himself Monty,
wasn't much of a worker, that is no lie,
but oh, how fast his fingers could fly…

He came from the east, most people did then,
was more handsome than the everyday man,
he could work those strings, master of his craft,
knew all the best songs, from first note to last.

He'd bust out a piece for coin in saloons,
get all the customers humming his tune,
the cathouse owners would ask him to play,
sometimes give him nights with the girls for pay.

He would roam town-to-town, plying his trade,
and his notes cut sharper than any blade,
the girls would come see him; oh, how they pined,
which just about brings me up to the time

that Monty showed up here, in Sutler's Point,
and set himself up to play at Red's joint.
At first the miner's thought it was very strange,
a soft-handed gent here in the Front Range?

But as the notes flew, the stress would die down,
soon enough word had spread all over town,
and the was how dear, innocent Monique
came to hear Monty make the fiddle speak.

She'd hear him burn through Stephen Foster songs,
then something classical, lilting and long,
between sets they'd chat, and a small spark grew,
Monique and Monty seemed more one than two.

She'd never known a man who could create
something from his soul, in a sublime sate.
He'd not met a woman with such innocence,
who still strove to see the beauty in men.

But they did not know that watching them both
was Big Harry Spears, who harbored a hope
of taking the lovely Monique for himself,
the son of a rancher, he had much wealth.

Yet every gift she'd politely refuse,
with an obliviousness born of youth,
and when her parents talked up Big Harry,
she'd laugh at the thought that they should marry.

She'd go to the fiddler to pass her days,
the sight of it fed an envious rage,
when Harry heard rumor the two had poked
he decided this was no longer a joke.

Harry wrote a note, in a cursive hand,
the kind fair Monique would write to a man,
slipped it in the case of the young fiddler,
telling him where to go to be ‘with' her.

That same afternoon folks saw Monty ride out,
he went to a canyon, by a river loud,
expecting to find the young woman he loved,
instead a gunshot rang out from above.

Monty lurched and pitched over to the dirt,
Harry arose from a crack in the Earth,
shouldered his gun and smiled evilly,
dumped Monty in the river, left no body…

When Monty didn't return to the town
in sorrow the love-struck Monique was drowned,
and townsfolk clucked when they saw he in tears,
and would say, "It turned out just how I feared.

"You never can trust the musician sort,
they're here one moment, then gone on their horse."
Big Harry consoled the sobbing Monique,
she was distraught, and solace she did seek.

She would find it within Harry's strong arms,
in her shattered state, she fell for his ‘charm, '
before the month was over the two were courting,
Big Harry laughed, he'd taken everything…

The weeks went by and he formed a notion
to take his prize to where the deed had been done,
he prepared a picnic, at the ‘perfect spot, '
then rode Monique out there at a slow trot.

Harry grinned to himself at his victory
when sad Monique said, "This place is pretty."
Oblivious, she began to unpack,
and they settled down to consume their snack.

And that's when Harry would hear the soft strings,
at first wasn't sure it was anything,
but it grew louder, the notes coming fast,
until he could not focus on their repast.

His mind reeled at this, it could not be true!
Monty was dead, and his body fish-food.
"Where is it coming from? "he finally said,
Monique looked at him as it out of his head.

He cried, "Can't your hear it? It's getting louder, "
and spun around looking very disturbed.
Monique didn't know what was happening,
they were all alone, she heard not a thing.

He pulled his pistol, looked more and more deranged,
"That damn fiddle music will drive me insane!
I know you're there, Monty! Show yourself then!
I have no problem killing you again! "

Monique's eyes went wide at this admission,
while Harry stomped 'round in his mad condition,
she pulled a Derringers from her bust line,
took aim and shot Big Harry in the spine.

He shrieked in pain, then fell to the ground,
cried she, "I knew my Monty wouldn't leave town! "
Harry tried to stand, but his legs would move,
she grabbed his gun, said, "Now I know the Truth."

Below his waist nothing could Harry feel,
but upon his temple he felt cold steel.
Monique saw the terror there in his eyes,
said, "They will all think it a suicide."

She squeezed the trigger, her vengeance was done,
into lifeless hands she placed Harry's gun,
then tore up her dress so that she could claim
that he'd tried to force her, killed himself from shame.

She mounter her horse, it was now past noon,
but paused, thinking she heard a fiddle tune,
she said, "Thank you, Monty, " and then rode away…
at that place some still hear the tune to this day.