He would hold a half-washed dish
suspended minutes at a time while listening to one "ob de young
missys at de pianny. Dat's de way I'se pick up my most scrumptious
pieces. Dey cyant play nuffin in de daytime dat I cyant 'prove on
in de ebenin';" and his vanity did not lead him much astray. But
when with those of his own color, or with the humbler classes, he
gave them the musical vernacular of the region--rude traditional
quicksteps and songs, strung together with such variations of his
own as made him the envy and despair of all other fiddlers in the
vicinity. Indeed, he could rarely get away from a great house
without a sample of his powers in this direction, and then
blending with the rhythmical cadence of feet, the rustle of
garments, would be evoked ripples of mirth and bursts of laughter
that were echoed back from the dim pine-groves without. Finally,
when with his great foot beating time on the floor and every
muscle of his body in motion, he ended with an original
arrangement of "Dixie," the eyes of the gentlest maiden would
flash as she joined the chorus of the men in gray, who were
scarcely less excited for the moment than they would have been in
a headlong cavalry charge.
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