All this time the young stranger had paused in tuning his violin, but when uncle Nat drew a deep breath, after repairing the mischief already done, out came a gush of music that made him start again, and threw the strong-minded woman into a fit of excitement, quite startling. She seized uncle Nat's moist hand and unconsciously--it must have been unconsciously--pressed it in her wiry fingers. "Music! Did you ever hear such music, uncle Nathan! It's enough to set one off a-dancing." "Well, why not?" answered uncle Nathan. "Yes, why not?" replied the strong-minded one, "if the other young people dance, why shouldn't we?" "Of course," said uncle Nat, wiping his hands on the roller towel. "Why not? I shouldn't wonder if we astonish these youngsters." "And aunt Hannah, too," chimed in Salina. "Oh! I'd forgot her," said uncle Nat, looking wistfully toward the milk-room door, "I'm afraid it won't do, she'll think--but here they come, like a flock of blackbirds!" True enough, the first full notes of the violin had drawn the crowd of girls from the chamber overhead, and down they came, laughing and racing through the kitchen, perfectly wild with delight. "Uncle Nat, dear, dear, uncle Nat, is it really a violin? Will aunt Hannah let us dance to anything but singing?" cried a dozen voices; and uncle Nathan was at once surrounded by a rainbow of streaming ribbons and floating ringlets, while a host of merry eyes flashed their delight upon him. "I don't know--I can't take it on myself to say," cried uncle Nathan, quite beside himself, "you must ask some one else. I haven't any objection in life"-- "Nor I," said Salina, "and that's two agin one, if Miss Hannah _does_ stand out. Come, I'll go with you. We'll say that I, and all the other young girls, have just made up our mouths to dance after a fiddle, and we mean to, that's all." "Stop, stop a minute!" exclaimed uncle Nathan, spreading his hands, "maybe you'd better say nothing about it, but just go into the barn and begin. If sister Hannah has got a conscience agin dancing to a fiddle, you know, it ain't worth while to wake it up; but there's more ways of getting into a lot than by taking down the bars. Jest climb the fence, that's all." How uncle Nathan ever came to give this worldly piece of advice is still a mystery. Some insinuated that the cider had sent its sparkles to his brain, and others thought the music had aroused some sleeping mischief there. Perhaps it was both. Perhaps too the bright eyes and ripe laughter around him had something to do with the matter. At any rate the advice was too pleasant not to be taken. A telegraphic signal brought the young men from the out-room, and off the company fluttered in pairs toward the barn making the starlight melodious with their laughter. CHAPTER XLIII. A DANCE AFTER HUSKING Merrily--merrily went the night The laugh rang out And a gleeful shout, Shook the autumn leaves in that starry light.