more," he thought regretfully; and
this thought disturbed the complacency he felt at first.

"Well, Phil, how do you like it?" asked Paul, as they emerged into the
street.

"Let me try it," said Phil, eagerly.

He struck up a tune, which he played through, his face expressing the
satisfaction he felt.

"Is it as good as your old one?"

"It is much better," said Phil. "I will pay you for it;" and he drew out
the money the sailors had given him in the morning.

"No, Phil," said his friend, "you may need that money. Keep it, and pay
me when you have more."

"But I shall be away."

"You will come to the city some day. When you do you will know where to
find me. Now go and play a tune to Jimmy. He is waiting for you. If you
remain in the streets, your old enemy, Tim Rafferty, may want to borrow
your fiddle again."

"You are very kind to me, Paolo," said Phil, raising his dark eyes with
a sudden impulse of gratitude.

"It's nothing, Phil," said Paul, modestly; "you would do the same for me
if I needed it."

"Yes, I would," said Phil; "but I am poor, and I cannot help you."

"You won't be poor always, Phil," said Paul, cheerfully, "nor I either,
I hope. I mean to be a merchant some time on a bigger scale than now. As
for you, you will be a great player, and give concerts at the Academy of
Music."

Phil laughed, but still seemed pleased at the prophecy.

"Well, Phil, I must bid you good-by for a little while, or my clerks
will be cheating me. I will see you at supper."

"Addio, Paolo," said Phil.

"Addio," said Paul, laughing. "Wouldn't I make a good Italian?"

Paul returned to his stand, and Phil took the direction of Mrs.
Hoffman's rooms. While on his way he heard the sound of a hand-organ,
and, looking across the way, saw, with some uneasiness, his old enemy
Pietro, playing to a crowd of boys.

"I hope he won't see me," said Phil to himself.

He was afraid Pietro would remember his old violin, and, seeing the
difference in the instrument he now had, inquire how he got it. He
might, if not satisfied on this point, take Phil home with him, which
would be fatal to his plans. He thought it prudent, therefore, to
turn down the next street, and get out of sight as soon as possible.
Fortunately for him Pietro had his back turned, so that he did not
observe him. Nothing would have pleased him better than to get the
little fiddler into trouble, for, besides being naturally malicious, he
felt that an exhibit