Phil, the Fiddler by Jr. Horatio Alger (ereader for comics .TXT) ๐
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- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
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After this conversation he played another tune. Mrs. Leigh drew out her purse, and gave him fifty cents. Phil took his fiddle under his arm, and, following the servant, who now reappeared, emerged into the street, and moved onward.
CHAPTER II PHIL AND HIS PROTECTOR
To a certain extent Phil was his own master; that is, he was at liberty to wander where he liked, provided he did not neglect his business, and returned to the lodging-house at night with the required sum of money. But woe to him if he were caught holding back any of the money for his own use. In that case, he would be beaten, and sent to bed without his supper, while the padrone, according to the terms of his contract with the distant parent would withhold from the amount due the latter ten times the sum kept by the boy. In the middle of the day he was allowed to spend three cents for bread, which was the only dinner allowed him. Of course, the boys were tempted to regale themselves more luxuriously, but they incurred a great risk in doing so. Sometimes the padrone followed them secretly, or employed others to do so, and so was able to detect them. Besides, they traveled, in general, by twos and threes, and the system of espionage was encouraged by the padrone. So mutual distrust was inspired, and the fear of being reported made the boys honest.
Phil left the house of Mr. Leigh in good spirits. Though he had earned nothing before, the fifty cents he had just received made a good beginning, and inspired in him the hope of getting together enough to save him a beating, for one night at least.
He walked down toward Sixth Avenue, and turning the corner walked down town. At length he paused in front of a tobacconistโs shop, and began to play. But he had chosen an unfortunate time and place. The tobacconist had just discovered a deficiency in his money account, which he suspected to be occasioned by the dishonesty of his assistant. In addition to this he had risen with a headache, so that he was in a decidedly bad humor. Music had no charms for him at that moment, and he no sooner heard the first strains of Philโs violin than he rushed from the shop bareheaded, and dashed impetuously at the young fiddler.
โGet away from my shop, you little vagabond!โ he cried. โIf I had my way, you should all be sent out of the country.โ
Phil was quick to take a hint. He saw the menace in the shopkeeperโs eyes, and, stopping abruptly, ran farther down the street, hugging his fiddle, which he was afraid the angry tobacconist might seize and break. This, to him, would be an irreparable misfortune and subject him to a severe punishment, though the fault would not be his.
Next he strolled into a side street, and began to play in front of some dwelling-houses. Two or three young children, who had been playing in the street, gathered about him, and one of them gave him a penny. They were clamorous for another tune, but Phil could not afford to work for nothing, and, seeing no prospects of additional pay, took his violin, and walked away, much to the regret of his young auditors, who, though not rich, were appreciative. They followed him to the end of the block, hoping that he would play again, but they were disappointed.
Phil played two or three times more, managing to obtain in all twenty-five cents additional. He reached the corner of Thirteenth Street just as the large public school, known as the Thirteenth Street School, was dismissed for its noon intermission.
โGive us a tune, Johnny,โ cried Edward Eustis, one of the oldest boys.
โYes, a tune,โ joined in several others.
This was an invitation to which Phil was always willing to respond. Besides, he knew from experience that boys were more generous, in proportion to their means, than those of larger growth, and he hoped to get enough from the crowd around him to increase his store to a dollar.
The boys gathered around the little minstrel, who struck up an Italian tune, but without the words.
โSing, sing!โ cried the boys.
Phil began to sing. His clear, fresh voice produced a favorable impression upon the boys.
โHeโs a bully singer,โ said one. โI canโt sing much better myself.โ
โYou sing! Your singing would be enough to scare a dozen tom cats.โ
โThen we should be well matched. Look here, Johnny, canโt you sing something in English?โ
Phil, in response to this request, played and sang โShoo Fly!โ which suiting the boysโ taste, he was called upon to repeat.
The song being finished, Edward Eustis took off his cap, and went around the circle.
โNow, boys, you have a chance to show your liberality,โ he said. โIโll start the collection with five cents.โ
โThatโs ahead of me,โ said James Marcus. โJustice to a large and expensive family will prevent me contributing anything more than two cents.โ
โThe smallest favors thankfully received,โ said Edward.
โThen take that, and be thankful,โ said Tom Lane, dropping in a penny.
โI havenโt got any money,โ said Frank Gaylord, โbut hereโs an apple;โ and he dropped a large red apple into the cap.
Phil; watching with interest the various contributions, was best pleased with the last. The money he must carry to the padrone. The apple he might keep for himself, and it would vary agreeably his usual meager fare.
โThe biggest contribution yet,โ said Edward.
โHere, Sprague, you are liberal. Whatโll you give?โ
โMy note at ninety days.โ
โYou might fail before it comes due.โ
โThen take three cents. โTis all I have; โI can no more, though poor the offering be.โโ
โOh, donโt quote Shakespeare.โ
โIt isnโt Shakespeare; itโs Milton.โ
โJust as much one as the other.โ
โHere, Johnny,โ said Edward, after going the rounds, โhold your hands, and Iโll pour out the money. You can retire from business now on a fortune.โ
Phil was accustomed to be addressed as Johnny, that being the generic name for boy in New York. He deposited the money in his pocket, and, taking his fiddle, played once more in acknowledgment of the donation. The boys
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