Hey-day! there was a merrymaking and piece of work in the large dancing-room of the "Sun." Once, during a pause, the hostess, a buxom portly widow, cried out, "Hold hard, fiddler; do stop--the cattle are all quarrelling with you, and will starve if you don't let the lads and girls go home and feed them. If you've no pity on us folks, do for goodness' sake stop your fiddling for the sake of the poor dumb creatures." "Just so!" cried the fiddler; "here you can see how man is the noblest animal on the face of the earth; man alone can dance--ay, dance in couples. Hark ye, hostess, if you'll dance a turn with me, I'll stop my fiddlestick for a whole hour." The musician jumped off the table. All the by-standers pressed the hostess, till at length she consented to dance. She clasped her partner tight round the waist, whilst he kept hold of his fiddle, drawing from it sounds never before heard; and in this comical manner, playing and dancing, they performed their evolutions in the circle of spectators; and at length, with a brilliant scrape of his bow, he concluded, embraced the hostess, and gave her a bouncing kiss, receiving in return a no less hearty box on the ear. Both were given and taken in fun and good temper. From that time forward the fiddler was domiciled under the shade of the "Sun." There he nestled himself quietly, and whenever any merrymaking was going on in the country round-about, Hans was sure to be there with his fiddle; but he always returned home regularly; and there was not a village nor a house far and wide around, in which there was more dancing, than in the hostelry of the portly landlady of the "Sun." The fiddler comported himself in the house as if he belonged to it; he served the guests (never taking any part in out-of-doors work), entertained the customers as they dropped in, played a hand at cards occasionally, and was never at a loss in praising a fresh tap. "We've just opened a new cask of wine--only taste, and say if there's not music in wine, and something divine!" Touching every thing that concerned the household, he invariably used the authoritative and familiar _we_:-"_We_ have a cellar fit for a king;" "_Our_ house lies in every one's way;" and so forth. Hans and his little fiddle, as a matter of course, were at every village-gathering and festivity; and the people of the country round-about could never dissociate in their thoughts the "Sun" inn and Hans the fiddler. But possibly the hostess considered the matter in a different light. At the conclusion of the harvest merrymaking she took heart and said--"Hans, you must know I've a liking for you; you pay for what you eat; but wouldn't you like for once to try living under another roof? What say you?" Hans protested that he was well enough off in his present quarters, and that he felt no disposition to neglect the old proverb of "Let well alone." The landlady was silent.