The Little Violinist, by Thomas 
Bailey Aldrich 
 
The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Little Violinist, by Thomas 
Bailey Aldrich This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost 
and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it 
away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License 
included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org 
Title: The Little Violinist 
Author: Thomas Bailey Aldrich 
Release Date: November 6, 2007 [EBook #23355] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE 
LITTLE VIOLINIST *** 
 
Produced by David Widger 
 
THE LITTLE VIOLINIST. 
By Thomas Bailey Aldrich 
Boston And New York Houghton Mifflin Company
Copyright, 1873, 1885, and 1901 
Weep with me, all you that read This little story; And know, for whom 
a tear you shed, Death's self is sorry. 
Ben Jonson. 
This story is no invention of mine. I could not invent anything half so 
lovely and pathetic as seems to me the incident which has come 
ready-made to my hand. 
Some of you, doubtless, have heard of James Speaight, the infant 
violinist, or Young Americus, as he was called. He was born in London, 
I believe, and was only four years old when his father brought him to 
this country, less than three years ago. Since that time he has appeared 
in concerts and various entertainments in many of our principal cities, 
attracting unusual attention by his musical skill. I confess, however, 
that I had not heard of him until last month, though it seems he had 
previously given two or three public performances in the city where I 
live. I had not heard of him, I say, until last month; but since then I do 
not think a day has passed when this child's face has not risen up in my 
memory--the little half-sad face, as I saw it once, with its large, serious 
eyes and infantile mouth. 
I have, I trust, great tenderness for all children; but I know that I have a 
special place in my heart for those poor little creatures who figure in 
circuses and shows, or elsewhere, as "infant prodigies." Heaven help 
such little folk! It was an unkind fate that did not make them 
commonplace, stupid, happy girls and boys like our own Fannys and 
Charleys and Harrys. Poor little waifs, that never know any babyhood 
or childhood--sad human midges, that flutter for a moment in the glare 
of the gaslights, and are gone. Pitiful little children, whose tender limbs 
and minds are so torn and strained by thoughtless task-masters, that it 
seems scarcely a regrettable thing when the circus caravan halts awhile 
on its route to make a small grave by the wayside. 
I never witness a performance of child-acrobats, or the exhibition of 
any forced talent, physical or mental, on the part of children, without
protesting, at least in my own mind, against the blindness and cruelty of 
their parents or guardians, or whoever has care of them. 
I saw at the theatre, the other night, two tiny girls--mere babies they 
were--doing such feats upon a bar of wood suspended from the ceiling 
as made my blood run cold. They were twin sisters, these mites, with 
that old young look on their faces which all such unfortunates have. I 
hardly dared glance at them, up there in the air, hanging by their feet 
from the swinging bar, twisting their fragile spines and distorting their 
poor little bodies, when they ought to have been nestled in soft blankets 
in a cosey chamber, with the angels that guard the sleep of little 
children hovering above them. I hope that the father of those two babies 
will read and ponder this page, on which I record not alone my 
individual protest, but the protest of hundreds of men and women who 
took no pleasure in that performance, but witnessed it with a pang of 
pity. 
There is a Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Dumb Animals. 
There ought to be a Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Little 
Children; and a certain influential gentleman, who does some things 
well and other things very badly, ought to attend to it. The name of this 
gentleman is Public Opinion.{1} 
1 This sketch was written in 1874. The author claims for it no other 
merit than that of having been among the earliest appeals for the 
formation of such a Society as now exists-- the Massachusetts Society 
for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children. 
But to my story. 
One September morning, about five years and a half ago, there 
wandered to my fireside, hand in hand, two small personages who 
requested in a foreign language, which I understood at once, to be taken 
in and fed and clothed and sent to school    
    
		
	
	
	Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code
 
	 	
	
	
	    Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the 
Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.
	    
	    
