“Yes, I took one or two lessons, but I had to give it up for a bad job. I couldn’t get into it somehow.”
“You didn’t try very long,” said Philip, smiling.
“I reckon I’d never do much at it. How long have you been a fiddler?”
“I’ve been playing three or four years.”
“Sho! You don’t say so! Do you like it?”
“Yes; very much.”
“Well, I’m glad you happened along. It would have been a pity to have our dance spoiled.”
By this time they had reached the farmhouse, and Abner went in, followed by our hero.
A young woman, his brother’s wife, looked at Philip in some surprise.
“You see, I’ve got a fiddler, after all,” said Abner gleefully. “We won’t have to put off the dance.”