me months past had had steady
work. But, as luck would have it, work ceased for him on the day in
which his wife had proved so powerful a protector to Phil. When he came
home at night he announced this.

"Niver mind, Pat," said Mrs. McGuire, who was sanguine and hopeful,
"we'll live somehow. I've got a bit of money upstairs, and I'll earn
something by washing. We won't starve."

"I'll get work ag'in soon, maybe," said Pat, encouraged.

"Shure you will."

"And if I don't, I'll help you wash," said her husband, humorously.

"Shure you'd spoil the clothes," said Bridget, laughing.

In the evening Phil played, and they had a merry time. Mr. McGuire quite
forgot that he was out of work, and, seizing his wife by the waist,
danced around the kitchen, to the great delight of the children.

The next morning Phil thanked Mrs. McGuire for her kindness, and
prepared to go away.

"Why will you go?" asked Bridget, hospitably. "Shure we have room
for you. You can pay us a little for your atin', and sleep with the
childer."

"I should like it," said Phil, "but----"

"But what?"

"Pietro will come for me."

"And if he does, my Pat will kick him out of doors."

Mr. McGuire was six feet in height, and powerfully made. There was no
doubt he could do it if he had the opportunity. But Phil knew that he
must go out into the streets and then Pietro might waylay him when he
had no protector at hand. He explained his difficulty to Mrs. McGuire,
and she proposed that he should remain close at hand all the forenoon;
near enough to fly to the house as a refuge, if needful. If Pietro did
not appear in that time, he probably would not at all.

Phil agreed to this plan, and accordingly began to play and sing in the
neighborhood, keeping a watchful lookout for the enemy. His earnings
were small, for the neighborhood was poor. Still, he picked up a few
pennies, and his store was increased by a twenty-five cent gift from a
passing gentleman. He had just commenced a new tune, being at that time
ten rods from the house, when his watchful eyes detected the approach of
Pietro, and, more formidable still, the padrone.

He did not stop to finish his tune, but took to his heels. At that
moment the padrone saw him. With a cry of exultation, he started in
pursuit, and Pietro with him. He thought Phil already in his grasp.

Phil dashed breathless into the kitchen, where Mrs. McGuire was ironing.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"The padrone