The boys all greeted him with great pleasure, and asked him where he would sit.
"Eight on that table, sir; put a chair up there." He took his chair on the kitchen-table as if it were a throne.

He wore huge moccasins of moose-hide on his feet, and for special occasions like this added a paper collar to his red woolen shirt.

He took off his coat and laid it across his chair for a cushion.

It was all very funny to the young people, but they obeyed him laughingly, and while they "formed on," he sawed his violin and coaxed it up to concert pitch, and twanged it and banged it into proper tunefulness.
"A-a-a-ll-ready there!" he rasped out, with prodigious force.

"Everybody git into his place!" Then, lifting one huge foot, he put the fiddle under his chin, and, raising his bow till his knuckles touched the strings, he yelled, "Already, G'LANG!" and brought his foot down with a startling bang on the first note.