The man strode into the tavern. He was wearing a black Drover's Coat and carrying a fiddle in its case in one hand. A man of few words, he strides over to the bar and orders a double. The fellow at the next stool introduces himself as Mbo, and asks the stranger his name.

"Hardiman, the Fiddler."

"Say, ain't that your wife in the jello pit, with the wet tee shirt?"

"Yeah, that's her . . ."

"Don't you think you ought to do something about it?"

"Na, ain't nothing I haven't seen before, and anyway, you might just as well go talk to the tree stump out in the yard. Think I'll play some wallow in the jello jigs, anyone know a good slip jig? Guess I'll play Hardiman. Hey barkeep! Give the Fiddler a dram, cause this fiddler don't give a dram anymore."

A lady approaches the fiddler, and smiles, aksing, "Say old man, can you play the fiddle?"

Hardiman smiles back and gleefully responds, "In more ways than one...."