And wishing the same to you, Mr.Lammeter, sir; and to the other gentlemen, and the madams, and the young lasses." As Solomon uttered the last words, he bowed in all directions solicitously, lest he should be wanting in due respect.

But thereupon he immediately began to prelude, and fell into the tune which he knew would be taken as a special compliment by Mr.Lammeter.
"Thank ye, Solomon, thank ye," said Mr.Lammeter when the fiddle paused again.

"That's "Over the hills and far away", that is.

My father used to say to me, whenever we heard that tune, "Ah, lad, _I_ come from over the hills and far away." There's a many tunes I don't make head or tail of; but that speaks to me like the blackbird's whistle.

I suppose it's the name: there's a deal in the name of a tune." But Solomon was already impatient to prelude again, and presently broke with much spirit into "Sir Roger de Coverley", at which there was a sound of chairs pushed back, and laughing voices.
"Aye, aye, Solomon, we know what that means," said the Squire, rising.
"It's time to begin the dance, eh?
Lead the way, then, and we'll all follow you." So Solomon, holding his white head on one side, and playing vigorously, marched forward at the head of the gay procession into the White Parlour, where the mistletoe-bough was hung, and multitudinous tallow candles made rather a brilliant effect, gleaming from among the berried holly-boughs, and reflected in the old-fashioned oval mirrors fastened in the panels of the white wainscot.