And now he was to be hanged. The people would
hear of nothing else. But Little Freddy had a cure for all trouble, and
that was his fiddle. He began to play on it, and the watchmen fell
a-dancing and they danced and they laughed till they gasped for breath.
So soldiers and the guard were sent to take him, but it was no better
with them than with the watchmen. When Little Freddy played his fiddle,
they were all bound to dance; and dance as long as he could lift a
finger to play a tune; but they were half dead long before he was tired.
At last they stole a march on him, and took him while he lay asleep by
night. Now that they had caught him they could condemn him to be hanged
on the spot, and away they hurried him to the gallows tree.
There a great crowd of people flocked together to see this wonder, and
the sheriff too was there. He was glad to get even at last for the money
and the clothes he had lost, and to see the lad hanged with his own
eyes.
And here came Little Freddy, carrying his fiddle and his gun. Slowly he
mounted the steps of the gallows,--and when he got to the top he sat
down, and asked if they could deny him a wish, and if he might have
leave to do one thing? He had such a longing, he said, to scrape a tune
and play a bar on his fiddle before they hanged him.
"No, no," they said; "it were sin and shame to deny him that.
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