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Read book online ยซPhil, the Fiddler by Jr. Horatio Alger (ereader for comics .TXT) ๐Ÿ“•ยป.   Author   -   Jr. Horatio Alger



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one yet. Do you think, Jimmy, you could draw Phil, here, with his fiddle?โ€

โ€œI think I could,โ€ said the little boy, slowly, looking carefully at their young guest; โ€œbut it would take some time.โ€

โ€œPerhaps Phil will come some day, and give you a sitting.โ€

โ€œWill you come?โ€ asked Jimmy.

โ€œI will come some day.โ€

Meanwhile Mrs. Hoffman was preparing supper. Since Paul had become proprietor of the necktie stand, as described in the last volume, they were able to live with less regard to economy than before. So, when the table was spread, it presented quite a tempting appearance. Beefsteak, rolls, fried potatoes, coffee, and preserves graced the board.

โ€œSupper is ready, Paul,โ€ said his mother, when all was finished.

โ€œHere, Phil, you may sit here at my right hand,โ€ said Paul. โ€œI will put your violin where it will not be injured.โ€

Phil sat down as directed, not without feeling a little awkward, yet with a sense of anticipated pleasure. Accustomed to bread and cheese alone, the modest repast before him seemed like a royal feast. The meat especially attracted him, for he had not tasted any for months, indeed seldom in his life, for in Italy it is seldom eaten by the class to which Philโ€™s parents belonged.

โ€œLet me give you some meat, Phil,โ€ said Paul. โ€œNow, shall we drink the health of the padrone in coffee?โ€

โ€œI will not drink his health,โ€ said Phil. โ€œHe is a bad man.โ€

โ€œWho is the padrone?โ€ asked Jimmy, curiously.

โ€œHe is my master. He sends me out to play for money.โ€

โ€œAnd must you give all the money you make to him?โ€

โ€œYes; if I do not bring much money, he will beat me.โ€

โ€œThen he must be a bad man. Why do you live with him?โ€

โ€œHe bought me from my father.โ€

โ€œHe bought you?โ€ repeated Jimmy, puzzled.

โ€œHe hires him for so much money,โ€ explained Paul.

โ€œBut why did your father let you go with a bad man?โ€ asked Jimmy.

โ€œHe wanted the money,โ€ said Phil. โ€œHe cared more for money than for me.โ€

What wonder that the boys sold into such cruel slavery should be estranged from the fathers who for a few paltry ducats sell the liberty and happiness of their children. Even where the contract is for a limited terms of years, the boys in five cases out of ten are not returned at the appointed time. A part, unable to bear the hardships and privations of the life upon which they enter, are swept off by death, while of those that survive, a part are weaned from their homes, or are not permitted to go back.

โ€œYou must not ask too many questions, Jimmy.โ€ said Mrs. Hoffman, fearing that he might awaken sad thoughts in the little musician.

She was glad to see that Phil ate with a good appetite. In truth he relished the supper, which was the best he remembered to have tasted for many a long day.

โ€œIs Italy like America?โ€ asked Jimmy, whose curiosity was excited to learn something of Philโ€™s birthplace.

โ€œIt is much nicer,โ€ said Phil, with a natural love of country. โ€œThere are olive trees and orange trees, and grapesโ€”very many.โ€

โ€œAre there really orange trees? Have you seen them grow?โ€

โ€œI have picked them from the trees many times.โ€

โ€œI should like that, but I donโ€™t care for olives.โ€

โ€œThey are good, too.โ€

โ€œI should like the grapes.โ€

โ€œThere are other things in Italy which you would like better, Jimmy,โ€ said Paul.

โ€œWhat do you mean, Paul?โ€

โ€œThe galleries of fine paintings.โ€

โ€œYes, I should like to see them. Have you seen them?โ€

Phil shook his head. The picture galleries are in the cities, and not in the country district where he was born.

โ€œSometime, when I am rich, we will all go to Italy, Jimmy; then, if Phil is at home, we will go and see him.โ€

โ€œI should like that, Paul.โ€

Though Jimmy was not yet eight years old, he had already exhibited a remarkable taste for drawing, and without having received any instruction, could copy any ordinary picture with great exactness. It was the little boyโ€™s ambition to become an artist, and in this ambition he was encouraged by Paul, who intended, as soon as he could afford it, to engage an instructor for Jimmy.





CHAPTER V ON THE FERRY BOAT

When supper was over, Phil bethought himself that his dayโ€™s work was not yet over. He had still a considerable sum to obtain before he dared go home, if such a name can be given to the miserable tenement in Crosby Street where he herded with his companions. But before going he wished to show his gratitude to Paul for his protection and the supper which he had so much and so unexpectedly enjoyed.

โ€œShall I play for you?โ€ he asked, taking his violin from the top of the bureau, where Paul had placed it.

โ€œWill you?โ€ asked Jimmy, his eyes lighting up with pleasure.

โ€œWe should be very glad to hear you,โ€ said Mrs. Hoffman.

Phil played his best, for he felt that he was playing for friends. After a short prelude, he struck into an Italian song. Though the words were unintelligible, the little party enjoyed the song.

โ€œBravo, Phil!โ€ said Paul. โ€œYou sing almost as well as I do.โ€

Jimmy laughed.

โ€œYou sing about as well as you draw,โ€ said the little boy.

โ€œThere you go again with your envy and jealousy,โ€ said Paul, in an injured tone. โ€œOthers appreciate me better.โ€

โ€œSing something, and we will judge of your merits,โ€ said his mother.

โ€œNot now,โ€ said Paul, shaking his head. โ€œMy feelings are too deeply injured. But if he has time, Phil will favor us with another song.โ€

So the little fiddler once more touched the strings of his violin, and sang the hymn of Garibaldi.

โ€œHe has a beautiful voice,โ€ said Mrs. Hoffman to Paul.

โ€œYes, Phil sings much better than most of his class. Shall I bring

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