Phil the Fiddler | Page 7

likes of you."
"You're a thief."
"Don't you call me names, you little Italian ragamuffin, or I'll hit you,"
said the other, menacingly.
"It is my apple."
"I'm going to eat it."
But the speaker was mistaken. As he held the apple above his head, it
was suddenly snatched from him. He looked around angrily, and
confronted Edward Eustis, who, seeing Phil's trouble from a little
distance, had at once come to his rescue.
"What did you do that for?" demanded the thief.
"What did you take the boy's apple for?"
"Because I felt like it."
"Then I took it from you for the same reason."
"Do you want to fight?" blustered the rowdy.
"Not particularly."
"Then hand me back that apple," returned the other.
"Thank you; I shall only hand it to the rightful owner--that little Italian
boy. Are you not ashamed to rob him?"
"Do you want to get hit?"
"I wouldn't advise you to do it."
The rowdy looked at the boy who confronted him. Edward was slightly

smaller, but there was a determined look in his eye which the bully,
who, like those of his class generally, was a coward at heart, did not
like. He mentally decided that it would be safer not to provoke him.
"Come here, Johnny, and take your apple," said Edward.
Phil advanced, and received back his property with satisfaction.
"You'd better eat it now. I'll see that he doesn't disturb you."
Phil followed the advice of his new friend promptly. He had eaten
nothing since seven o'clock, and then only a piece of dry bread and
cheese, and the apple, a rare luxury, he did not fail to relish. His
would-be robber scowled at him meanwhile, for he had promised
himself the pleasure of dispatching the fruit. Edward stood by till the
apple was eaten, and then turned away. The rowdy made a movement
as if to follow Phil, but Edward quickly detected him, and came back.
"Don't you dare touch him," he said, significantly, "or you'll have to
settle accounts with me. Do you see that policeman? I am going to ask
him to have an eye on you. You'd better look out for yourself."
The other turned at the caution, and seeing the approach of one of the
Metropolitan police quickly vanished. He had a wholesome fear of
these guardians of the public peace, and did not care to court their
attention.
Edward turned away, but in a moment felt a hand tugging at his coat.
Looking around, he saw that it was Phil.
"Grazia, signore," said Phil, gratefully.
"I suppose that means 'Thank you'?"
Phil nodded.
"All right, Johnny! I am glad I was by to save you from that bully."

CHAPTER III
GIACOMO
After eating the apple Phil decided to buy his frugal dinner. He,
therefore, went into a baker's shop, and bought two penny rolls and a
piece of cheese. It was not a very luxurious repast, but with the apple it
was better than usual. A few steps from the shop door he met another
Italian boy, who was bound to the same padrone.
"How much money have you, Giacomo?" asked Phil, speaking, of
course, in his native tongue.
"Forty cents. How much have you?"
"A dollar and twenty cents."
"You are very lucky, Filippo."
"A rich signora gave me fifty cents for playing to her sick boy. Then I
sang for some schoolboys, and they gave me some money."
"I am afraid the padrone will beat me to-night."
"He has not beat me for a week."
"Have you had dinner, Filippo?"
"Yes, I had some bread and cheese, and an apple."
"Did you buy the apple?"
"No; one of the schoolboys gave it to me. It was very good," said Phil,
in a tone of enjoyment. "I had not eaten one for a long time."
"Nor I. Do you remember, Filippo, the oranges we had in Italy?"
"I remember them well."

"I was happy then," said Giacomo, sighing. "There was no padrone to
beat me, and I could run about and play. Now I have to sing and play
all day. I am so tired sometimes,--so tired, Filippo."
"You are not so strong as I, Giacomo," said Phil, looking with some
complacency at his own stout limbs.
"Don't you get tired, Filippo?"
"Yes, often; but I don't care so much for that. But I don't like the
winter."
"I thought I should die with cold sometimes last winter," said Giacomo,
shuddering. "Do you ever expect to go back to Italy, Filippo?"
"Sometime."
"I wish I could go now. I should like to see my dear mother and my
sisters."
"And your father?"
"I don't want to see him," said Giacomo, bitterly. "He sold me to the
padrone. My mother wept bitterly when I went away, but