He sat down, back of the harp, and made ready to sweep the strings. He
hardly knew whether or not he touched the instrument, but there rolled
out volumes of lively music, as if the harp itself were mad. The tune
was wild and such as would set the feet of young folks agoing, even in
church.

As Taffy's fingers seemed every moment to become more skillful, the
livelier the music increased, until the very dishes rattled on the
cupboard, as if they wanted to join in. Even the chair looked as if
about to dance.

Just then, Morgan's wife and some neighbors entered the house.
Immediately, the whole party, one and all, began dancing in the
jolliest way. For hours, they kept up the mad whirl. Yet all the
while, Taffy seemed happier and the women the merrier.

No telegraph ever carried the news faster, all over the region, that
Morgan had a wonderful harp.

All the grass in front of the house, was soon worn away by the crowds,
that came to hear and dance. As soon as Taffy touched the harp
strings, the feet of everyone, young and old, began shuffling, nor
could anyone stop, so long as Morgan played. Even very old, lame and
one-legged people joined in. Several old women, whom nobody had ever
prevailed upon to get out of their chairs, were cured of their
rheumatism. Such unusual exercise was severe for them, but it seemed
to be healthful.

A shrewd monk, the business manager of the monastery near by, wanted
to buy Morgan's house, set up a sanatarium and advertise it as a holy