A sharper screech from the strings

"The fiddler led the way, his violin garlanded with multicoloured ribbons ... and, if you listened carefully, you could always hear the fiddler scraping away across the open fields. Whenever he noticed that he had left the company far behind, he would stop to catch his breath, thoroughly wax his bow with rosin so as to get a sharper screech from the strings, and then set off again, alternately raising and lowering the neck of his violin to help himself keep time. The distant sound of the instrument would put all the small birds to flight ..."

-Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary