o which he was playing.

"Beautiful! Beautiful!" exclaimed the young ladies, while their partners
pronounced it "tip-top" and "first-rate," by which they probably meant
very much the same thing.

"Oh, Mr. Gray!" exclaimed Miss Snodgrass fervently. "You play like a
seraphim!"

"Thank you!" said Philip, smiling. "I never heard a seraphim play on the
violin, but I am sure your remark is very complimentary."

"I wish you could play like that, Jedidiah," said Maria.

"I'll learn to play, if you want me to," said Mr. Burbank.

"Thank you! You're very obliging," said Maria; "but I won't trouble you.
You haven't got a genius for it, like Mr. Gray."

The evening was over at length, and again Philip was made the
happy recipient of three dollars. His first week had certainly been
unexpectedly prosperous.

"This is better than staying in the Norton Poorhouse!" he said to
himself.

CHAPTER XXIV. LORENZO RICCABOCCA.

Philip's reputation as a musician was materially increased by his second
night's performance. To adopt a military term, he had crossed swords
with the veteran fiddler, Paul Beck, and, in the opinion of all who
heard both, had far surpassed him.

This was said openly to Philip by more than one; but he was modest, and
had too much tact and good taste to openly agree with them. This modesty
raised him higher in the opinion of his admirers.

He was invited by the Blakes to prolong his visit, but preferred to
continue on his journey--though his plans were, necessarily, not clearly
defined.

Andrew Blake carried him five miles on his way, and from that point our
hero used the means of locomotion with which nature had supplied him.

Some six miles farther on there was a manufacturing town of considerable
size, named Wilkesville, and it occurred to him that this would be a
good place at which to pass the night.

Something might turn up for him there. He hardly knew what, but the two
unexpected strokes of luck which he had had thus far encouraged him to
think that a third might come to him.

Philip continued on his way--his small pack of clothing in one hand and
his violin under his arm. Being in no especial hurry--for it was only
the middle of the forenoon--he bethought himself to sit down and rest at
the first convenient and inviting place.

He soon came to a large elm tree, which, with its spreading branches,
offered a pleasant and grateful shade.

He threw himself down and lay back on the greens