The limits of patience were reached. The musician fired up. "'Kase," he retorted, "I make enough. I hev got grace enough ter be thankful fur sech ez be vouchsafed ter me. _I_ ain't wantin' no meracle." Kennedy flushed, following in silence while the musician annotated his triumph by a series of gay little harmonics, and young Hopeful, trudging in the rear, executed a soundless fantasia on the cornstalk fiddle with great brilliancy of technique. "You uns air talkin' 'bout whut I said at the meetin' las' month," Kennedy observed at length. "An' so be all the mounting," Aurelia interpolated with a sudden fierce joy of reproof. Kennedy winced visibly. "The folks all 'low ez ye be no better than an onbeliever." Aurelia was bent on driving the blade home. "The idee of axin' fur a meracle at this late day,--so ez _ye_ kin be satisfied in yer mind ez ye hev got grace! Providence, though merciful, air _obleeged_, ter know ez sech air plumb scandalous an' redic'lous." "Why, Aurely, hesh up," exclaimed her husband, startled from his wonted leniency. "I hev never hearn ye talk in sech a key,--yer voice sounds plumb out o' tune. I be plumb sorry, Jube, ez I spoke ter you uns 'bout a meracle at all. But I war consider'ble nettled by yer words, ye see,--'kase I know I be a powerful, lazy, shif'less cuss----" "Ye know a lie, then," his helpmate interrupted promptly. "Why, Aurely, hesh up,--ye--ye--_woman_, ye!" he concluded injuriously. Then resuming his remarks to Kennedy, "I know I _do_ fool away a deal of my time with the fiddle----" "The sound of it is like bread ter me,--I couldn't live without it," interposed the unconquered Aurelia. "Sometimes it minds me o' the singin' o' runnin' water in a lonesome place. Then agin it minds me o' seein' sunshine in a dream. An' sometimes it be sweet an' high an' fur off, like a voice from the sky, tellin' what no mortial ever knowed before,--an' _then_ it minds me o' the tune them angels sung ter the shepherds abidin' in the fields. I _couldn't_ live without it." "Woman, hold yer jaw!" Basil proclaimed comprehensively. Then, renewing his explanation to Kennedy, "I kin see that I don't purvide fur my fambly ez I ought ter do, through hatin' work and lovin' to play the fiddle." "I ain't goin' ter hear my home an' hearth reviled." Aurelia laid an imperative hand on her husband's arm. "Ye know ye couldn't make more out'n sech ground,--though I ain't faultin' our land, neither. We uns hev enough an' ter spare, all we need an' more than we deserve. We don't need ter ax a meracle from the skies ter stay our souls on faith, nor a sign ter prove our grace." "Now, now, _stop_, Aurely!--I declar', Jube I dunno what made me lay my tongue ter sech a word ez that thar miser'ble benighted meracle! I be powerful sorry I hurt yer feelin's, Jube; folks seekin' salvation git mightily mis-put sometimes, an'----"