Hearing this, old Mack uttered a contradictory guffaw, and shook his
gray wool in high amusement.
"Go on, Luke," said his wife, as she pushed him towards the fiddler;
"you kin, you know you kin."
Luke edged round between the dancers and the fire, and took two smooth
sour-wood sticks from Mack's coat-pocket. The old negro laughed and
sang all the louder as he held his head to one side and Luke began to
thrum the strings in time to the music.
"Whoo-ee!" shouted Frank, and the dance waxed faster and more noisy,
till the exhausted fiddler brought it to an end by crying out:
"Seat yo' pahtners."
Jennie sat down in a row of girls against the wall, and Mrs. Bradley
came to Westerfelt.
"You must stir round," she said; "I want you to git acquainted. Come
over here an' talk to Sarah Wambush." He followed her across the room.
Sarah was seated next to Harriet Floyd. As he sat down near Sarah, he
fancied that Harriet, whose profile was towards him, gave him a glance
out of the corner of her eye, but she turned her head and continued
talking to Toot Wambush.
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