UNCLE NED
(with a sigh of happiness).
I certainly do love music. Nothing cheers the heart like singing--
unless it's the voice of the fiddle.

SUSY
(hopping up and down).
Play to us, Uncle Ned, play to us!

[Uncle Ned tucks his fiddle under his chin and begins to play. At first
the air is chant-like, and has a strain of melancholy, then it grows
gayer and gayer, until it turns into a dance tune. The children first
stand about Uncle Ned in a circle, listening. Then they begin to dance,
with swaying bodies and cries of delight. Here and there a girl and boy
dance opposite each other, hands on hips. There should be five or six
dancing groups in all. Uncle Ned finishes with a flourish, and turns
towards left.

THE CHILDREN.
Play us another tune, Uncle Ned! Play us another tune!

UNCLE NED
(to a little girl who is especially imploring).
No, no, honey. There's work for me to do up yonder at the house.

[Goes off, left background.

AUNT RACHEL
(still swaying a little and nodding her head).