ed for his new professional
partner "The Carnival of Venice," with variations--the same which had
been received with so much favor the evening previous.

Professor Riccabocca listened attentively, and was evidently agreeably
surprised. He was not a musician, but he saw that Philip was a much
better player than he had anticipated, and this, of course, was likely
to improve their chances of pecuniary success.

"You are a splendid performer," he said enthusiastically. "You
shall come out under my auspices and win fame. I predict for you a
professional triumph."

"Thank you," said Philip, gratified by this tribute from a man of
worldly experience. "I hope you will prove a true prophet."

"And now, Mr. Gray, let us proceed on our way. We must get lodgings in
Wilkesville, and make arrangements for our entertainment. I feel new
courage, now that I have obtained so able a partner. Wilkesville little
knows what is in store for her. We shall go, see, and conquer!"

An hour later Philip and his new partner entered Wilkesville.

CHAPTER XXV. A CHANGE OF NAME.

Wilkesville was an inland city, of from fifteen to twenty thousand
inhabitants.

As Philip and the professor passed along the principal street, they saw
various stores of different kinds, with here and there a large,
high, plain-looking structure, which they were told was used for the
manufacture of shoes.

"Wilkesville will give us a large audience," he said, in a tone of
satisfaction.

"I hope so," said our hero.

"Hope so? I know so!" said the professor confidently. "The town is full
of young men, employed in shoe-making. They are fond of amusement,
and they will gladly seize an opportunity of patronizing a first-class
entertainment like ours."

The professor's reasoning seemed good, but logic sometimes fails, and
Philip was not quite so sanguine. He said nothing, however, to dampen
the ardor of his partner.

"Let me see," said the professor, pausing, "yonder stands the
Wilkesville Hotel. We had better put up there."

It was a brick structure of considerable size, and seemed to have some
pretensions to fashion.

"Do you know how much they charge?" asked Philip prudently.

"No; I neither know nor care," answered Professor Riccabocca loftily.

"But," said Philip, "I haven't much money."

"Nor I," admitted Riccabocca. "But it is absolutely necessary for us to
stop at a first-class place. We must not let the citizens suppose that
we are tramps o