“They air always a-crackin' up them folks in the Bible ez sech powerful wise men,” said another, whose untrained mind evidently held the germs of advanced thinking. “'Pears ter me ez some of 'em conducted tharselves ez foolish ez enny folks I know--this hyar very Moses one o' 'em. Throwin' down them rocks 'minds me o' old man Pinner's tantrums. Sher'ff kem ter his house 'bout a jedgmint debt, an' levied on his craps. An' arter he war gone old man tuk a axe an' gashed bodaciously inter the loom an' hacked it up. Ez ef that war goin' ter do enny good! His wife war the mos' outed woman I ever see. They 'ain't got nare nother loom nuther, an' hain't hearn no advices from the Lord.” The violinist paused in his playing. “They 'lowed Moses war a meek man too,” he said. “He killed a man with a brick-badge an' buried him in the sand. Mighty meek ways”--with a satirical grimace. The others, divining that this was urged in justification and precedent for devious modern ways that were not meek, did not pursue this branch of the subject. “S'prised me some,” remarked the advanced thinker, “ter hear ez them tables o' stone war up on the bald o' the mounting thar. I hed drawed the idee ez 'twar in some other kentry somewhar--I dunno--” He stopped blankly. He could not formulate his geographical ignorance. “An' I never knowed,” he resumed, presently, “ez thar war enough gold in Tennessee ter make a gold calf; they fund gold hyar, but 'twar mighty leetle.” “Mebbe 'twar a mighty leetle calf,” suggested the blacksmith. “Mebbe so,” assented the other. “Mebbe 'twar a silver one,” speculated a third; “plenty o' silver they 'low thar air in the mountings.” The violinist spoke up suddenly. “Git one o' them Injuns over yander ter Quallatown right seasonable drunk, an' he'll tell ye a power o' places whar the old folks said thar war silver.” He bowed his chin once more upon the instrument, and again the slow drawling conversation proceeded to soft music. “Ef ye'll b'lieve me,” said the advanced thinker, “I never war so conflusticated in my life ez I war when he stood up in meetin' an' told 'bout'n the tables of the law bein' on the bald! I 'lowed 'twar somewhar 'mongst some sort'n people named 'Gyptians.” “Mebbe some o' them Injuns air named 'Gyptians',” suggested Spears, the blacksmith. “Naw, sir,” spoke up the fiddler, who had been to Quallatown, and was the ethnographic authority of the meeting. “Tennessee Injuns be named Cher'-kee, an' Chick'saw, an' Creeks.”