CHAPTER V
ON THE FERRY BOAT
When supper was over, Phil bethought himself that his day's work was notyet over. He had still a considerable sum to obtain before he dared gohome, if such a name can be given to the miserable tenement in CrosbyStreet where he herded with his companions. But before going he wishedto show his gratitude to Paul for his protection and the supper which hehad so much and so unexpectedly enjoyed.
"Shall I play for you?" he asked, taking his violin from the top of thebureau, where Paul had placed it.
"Will you?" asked Jimmy, his eyes lighting up with pleasure.
"We should be very glad to hear you," said Mrs. Hoffman.
Phil played his best, for he felt that he was playing for friends. Aftera short prelude, he struck into an Italian song. Though the words wereunintelligible, the little party enjoyed the song.
"Bravo, Phil!" said Paul. "You sing almost as well as I do."
Jimmy laughed.
"You sing about as well as you draw," said the little boy.
"There you go again with your envy and jealousy," said Paul, in aninjured tone. "Others appreciate me better."
"Sing something, and we will judge of your merits," said his mother.
"Not now," said Paul, shaking his head. "My feelings are too deeplyinjured. But if he has time, Phil will favor us with another song."
So the little fiddler once more touched the strings of his violin, andsang the hymn of Garibaldi.
"He has a beautiful voice," said Mrs. Hoffman to Paul.
"Yes, Phil sings much better than most of his class. Shall I bring himup here again?"
"Any time, Paul. We shall always be glad to see him."
Here Phil took his cap and prepared to depart.
"Good-by," he said in English. "I thank you all for your kindness."
"Will you come again?" said Mrs. Hoffman. "We shall be glad to haveyou."
"Do come," pleaded Jimmy, who had taken a fancy to the dark-eyed Italianboy, whose brilliant brown complexion contrasted strongly with his ownpale face and blue eyes.
These words gave Phil a strange pleasure. Since his arrival in Americahe had become accustomed to harsh words and blows; but words of kindnesswere strangers to his ears. For an hour he forgot the street and hisuninviting home, and felt himself surrounded by a true home atmosphere.He almost fancied himself in his Calabrian home, with his mother andsisters about him--in his home as it was before cupidity entered hisfather's heart and impelled him to sell his own flesh and blood intoslavery in a foreign land. Phil could not analyze his own emotions,but these were the feelings which rose in his heart, and filed it withtransient sadness.
"I thank you much," he said. "I will come again some day."
"Come soon, Phil," said Paul. "You know where my necktie stand is. Comethere any afternoon between four and five, and I will take you home tosupper. Do you know the way out, or shall I go with you?"
"I know the way," said Phil.
He went downstairs and once more found himself on the sidewalk. It wasbut six o'clock, and five or six hours were still before him before hecould feel at liberty to go home. Should he return too early, he wouldbe punished for losing the possible gains of the hour he had lost, evenif the sum he brought home were otherwise satisfactory. So, whatever maybe his fatigue, or however inclement the weather, the poor Italian boyis compelled to stay out till near midnight, before he is permitted toreturn to the hard pallet on which only he can sleep off his fatigues.
Again in the street, Phil felt that he must make up for lost time. Nowsix o'clock is not a very favorable time for street music; citizens whodo business downtown have mostly gone home to dinner. Those who havenot started are in haste, and little disposed to heed the appeal ofthe young minstrel. Later the saloons will be well frequented, and notseldom the young fiddlers may pick up a few, sometimes a considerablenumber of pennies, by playing at the doors of these places, or within,if they should be invited to enter; but at six there is not much to bedone.
After a little reflection, Phil determined to go down to Fulton Ferryand got on board the Brooklyn steamboat. He might get a chance to playto the passengers, and some, no doubt, would give him something. At anyrate, the investment would be small, since for one fare, or two cents,he might ride back and forward several times, as long as he did not stepoff the boat. He, therefore, directed his steps toward the ferry, andarrived just in time to go on board the boat.
The boat was very full. So large a number of the people in Brooklyn aredrawn to New York by business and pleasure, that the boats, particularlyin the morning from seven to nine, and in the afternoon, from five toseven, go loaded down with foot passengers and carriages.
Phil entered the ladies' cabin. Though ostensibly confined to ladies'use, it was largely occupied also by gentlemen who did not enjoy thesmoke which usually affects disagreeably the atmosphere of the cabinappropriated to their own sex. Our young musician knew that to childrenthe hearts and purses of ladies are more likely to open than those ofgentlemen, and this guided him.
Entering, he found every seat taken. He waited till the boat hadstarted, and then, taking his position in the center of the rearcabin, he began to play and sing, fixing at once the attention of thepassengers upon himself.
"That boy's a nuisance; he ought not to be allowed to play on the boat,"muttered an old gentleman, looking up from the columns of the EveningPost.
"Now, papa," said a young lady at his side, "why need you object to thepoor boy? I am sure he sings very nicely. I like to hear him."
"I don't."
"You know, papa, you have no taste for music. Why, you went to sleep atthe opera the other evening."
"I tried to," said her father, in whom musical taste had a very limiteddevelopment. "It was all nonsense to me."
"He is singing the Hymn of Garibaldi. What a sweet voice he has! Such ahandsome little fellow, too!"
"He has a dirty face, and his clothes are quite ragged."
"But he has beautiful eyes; see how brilliant they are. No wonder he isdirty and ragged; it isn't his fault, poor boy. I have no doubt he has amiserable home. I'm going to give him something."
"Just as you like, Florence; as I am not a romantic young damsel, Ishall not follow your example."'
By this time the song was finished, and Phil, taking off his cap, wentthe rounds. None of the contributions were larger than five cents,until he came to the young lady of whom we have spoken above. She drewa twenty-five-cent piece from her portemonnaie, and put it into Phil'shand, with a gracious smile, which pleased the young fiddler as much asthe gift, welcome though that undoubtedly was.
"Thank you, lady," he said.
"You sing very nicely," she replied.
Phil smiled, and dirty though his face was, the smile lighted it up withrare beauty.
"Do you often come on these boats?" asked the young lady.
"Sometimes, but they do not always let me play," said Phil.
"I hope I shall hear you again. You have a good voice."
"Thank you, signorina."
"You can speak English. I tried to speak with one of you the other day,but he could only speak Italian."
"I know a few words, signorina."
"I hope I shall see you again," and the young lady, prompted by anatural impulse of kindness, held out her hand to the little musician.He took it respectfully, and bending over, touched it with his lips.
The young lady, to whom this was quite unexpected, smiled and blushed,by no means offended, but she glanced round her to see whether it wasobserved by others.
"Upon my word, Florence," said her father, as Phil moved away, "you havegot up quite a scene with this little ragged musician. I am ratherglad he is not ten or twelve years older, or there might be a romanticelopement."
"Now, papa, you are too bad," said Florence. "Just because I choose tobe kind to a poor, neglected child, you fancy all sorts of improbablethings."
"I don't know where you get all your foolish romance from--no
t from me,I am sure."
"I should think not," said Florence, laughing merrily. "Your worst enemywon't charge you with being romantic, papa."
"I hope not," said her father, shrugging his shoulders. "But the boathas touched the pier. Shall we go on shore, or have you any furtherbusiness with your young Italian friend?"
"Not to-day, papa."
The passengers vacated the boat, and were replaced by a smaller number,on their way from Brooklyn to New York.
Phil, the Fiddler Page 5
