Cletus and The Story of the Fiddle Left Behind

The other night Cletus left in such a hurry, nothing but a cloud of smoke remained where he once stood. After the dust settled I find myself scratching my head pondering how such a dedicated Southern banjo picker could leave his fiddle behind. What am I to do with this old fiddle and bow?

Tonight was a cold bitter evening and instead of making Cletus brave through the cold to reclaim his prized fiddle, I figured I pay him a visit...

Here is a clip of The Canadian Waltz:

Sandy