"
"I've seen that old man," Aunt Vic said. "He's only a half
brother to Miss Dink. Lives way over yonder the other side of
Millers Crossing-down below the state line."
"I tell you he can sure scald-the-dog! Don't know when to
slow down, much less stop."
"He's a mean man! Pouring hot water on a poor dog!" I
shouted.
"Bandershanks, that's just a saying! Means he's plain
talented when it comes to a fiddle."
"Oh. Jim-Bo, hurry and get to the dancing part!"
"Yeah, I'm coming to that right now-soon's I clear the floor
and sprinkle down the sand."
"What?"
"You see, on the Saturday of the dance, folks have to move
out the beds and dresser and table-or whatever stuff they've got
in their front room-to sorta clear the floor so there'll be
plenty of space for dancing. All they leave is three or four
straight chairs over in the corner for the fiddlers. And
sometimes the lady of the house spreads a thick layer of white
sand on the floor, just before everybody gets there. That way,
she can get her floors tramped clean while the dancing is going
on! Soon as the musicians come, they tune up.
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