章节正文
"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 my
father only thought of the money."
Filippo and Giacomo were from the same town in Calabria. They
were the sons of Italian peasants who had been unable to resist
the offers of the padrone, and for less than a hundred dollars
each had sold his son into the cruelest slavery. The boys were
torn from their native hills, from their families, and in a
foreign land were doomed to walk the streets from fourteen to
sixteen hours in every twenty-four, gathering money from which
they received small benefit. Many times, as they trudged through
the streets, weary and hungry, sometimes cold, they thought with
homesick sadness of the sunny fields in which their earliest
years had been passed, but the hard realities of the life they
were now leading soon demanded their attention.
Naturally light-hearted, Filippo, or Phil, bore his hard lot more
cheerfully than some of his comrades. But Giacomo was more
delicate, and less able to bear want and fatigue. His livelier
comrade cheered him up, and Giacomo always felt better after
talking with Phil.
As the two boys were walking together, a heavy hand was laid on
the shoulder of each, and a harsh voice said: "Is this the way
you waste your time, little rascals?"
Both boys started, and looking up, recognized the padrone. He
was a short man, very dark with fierce black eyes and a sinister
countenance. It was his habit to walk about the streets from
time to time, and keep a watch, unobserved, upon his young
apprentices, if they may be so called. If he found them
loitering about, or neglecting their work, they were liable to
receive a sharp reminder.
The boys were both startled at his sudden appearance, but after
the first start, Phil, who was naturally courageous, recovered
his self-possession. Not so with Giacomo, who was the more
afraid because he knew he had gained but little money thus far.
"We are not wasting our time, padrone," said Phil, looking up
fearlessly.
"We will see about that. How long have you been together?"
"Only five minutes."
"How much money have you, Filippo?"
"A dollar and twenty cents."
"Good; you have done well. And how is it with you, Giacomo?"
"I have forty cents."
"Then you have been idle," said the padrone, frowning.
"No, signore," said the boy, trembling. "I have played, but they
did not give me much money."
"It is not his fault," said Phil, coming boldly to the defense of
his friend.
"Attend to your own affairs, little scrape-grace," said the
padrone, roughly. "He might have got as much as you."
"No, padrone; I was lucky. A kind lady gave me fifty cents."
"That is not my affair. I don't care where you get the money.
But if you don't bring home all I expect, you shall feel the
stick."
These last words were addressed to Giacomo, who understood their
import only too well. In the miserablelodging where he herded
with thirty or forty others scarcely a night passed without the
brutal punishment of one or more unfortunate boys, who had been
unsuccessful in bringing home enough to satisfy the rapacity of
the padrone. But of this an account will hereafter be given.
"Now, go to work, both of you," said the padrone, harshly.
The two boys separated. Giacomo went uptown, while Phil kept on
his way toward the Astor House. The padrone made his way to the
nearest liquor shop, where he invested a portion of the money
wrung from the hard earnings of his young apprentices.
Toward the close of the afternoon Phil found himself in front of
the Astor House. He had played several times, but was not
fortunate in findingliberal auditors. He had secured but ten
cents during this time, and it seemed doubtful whether he would
reach the sum he wanted. He crossed over to the City Hall Park,
and, feeling tired, sat down on one of the benches. Two
bootblacks were already seated upon it.
"Play us a tune, Johnny," said one.
"Will you give me pennies?" asked Phil doubtfully, for he did
not care, with such a severe taskmaster, to work for nothing.
"Yes, we'll give you pennies."
Upon this, Phil struck up a tune.
"Where's your monkey?" asked one of the boys.
"I have no monkey."
"If you want a monkey, here's one for you," said Tim Rafferty,
putting his hand on his companion's shoulder.
"He's too big," said Phil, laughing.
"Hould yer gab, Tim Rafferty," said the other. "It's you that'll
make a better monkey nor I. Say, Johnny, do you pay your monkeys
well?"
"Give me my pennies," said Phil, with an eye to business.
"Play another tune, then."
Phil obeyed directions. When he had finished, a contribution was
taken up, but it only amounted to seven cents. However,
considering the character of the audience, this was as much as
could be expected.
"How much have you made to-day, Johnny?" asked Tim.
"A dollar," said Phil.
"A dollar! That's more nor I have made. I tell you what, boys,
I think I'll buy a fiddle myself. I'll make more money that way
than blackin' boots."
"A great fiddler you'd make, Tim Rafferty."
"Can't I play, then? Lend me your fiddle, Johnny, till I try it
a little."
Phil shook his head.
"Give it to me now; I won't be hurtin' it."
"You'll break it."
"Then I'll pay for it."
"It isn't mine."
"Whose is it, then?"
"The padrone's."
"And who's the padrone?"
"The man I live with. If the fiddle is broken, he will beat me."
"Then he's an ould haythen, and you may tell him so, with Tim
Rafferty's compliments. But I won't hurt it."
Phil, however, feared to trust the violin in unskillful hands.
He knew the penalty if any harm befell it, and he had no mind to
run the risk. So he rose from the seat, and withdrew to a little
distance, Tim Rafferty following, for, though he cared little at
first, he now felt determined to try the fiddle.
"If you don't give it to me I'll put a head on you," he said.
"You shall not have it," said Phil, firmly, for he, too, could be
determined.
"The little chap's showing fight," said Tim's companion. "Look
out, Tim; he'll mash you."
"I can fight him wid one hand," said Tim.
He advanced upon our young hero, who, being much smaller, would
probably have been compelled to yield to superior force but for
an interference entirely unexpected by Tim.
CHAPTER IV
AN INVITATION TO SUPPER
Tim had raised his fist to strike the young fiddler, when he was
suddenly pushed aside with considerable force, and came near
measuring his length on the ground.
"Who did that?" he cried, angrily, recovering his equilibrium.
"I did it," said a calm voice.
Tim recognized in the speaker Paul Hoffman, whom some of my
readers will remember as "Paul the Peddler." Paul was proprietor
of a necktie stand below the Astor House, and was just returning
home to supper.
He was a brave and manly boy, and his sympathies were always in
favor of the oppressed. He had met Phil before, and talked with
him, and seeing him in danger came to his assistance.
"What made you push me?" demanded Tim, fiercely.
"What were you going to do to him?" rejoined Paul, indicating
the Italian boy.
"I was only goin' to borrer his fiddle."
"He would have broken it," said Phil.
"You don't know how to play," said Paul. "You would have broken
his fiddle, and then he would be beaten."
"I would pay for it if I did," said Tim.
"You say so, but you wouldn't. Even if you did, it would take
time, and the boy would have suffered."
"What business is that of yours?" demanded Tim, angrily.
"It is always my business when I see a big boy teasing a little
one."
"You'll get hurt some day," said Tim, suddenly.
"Not by you," returned Paul, not particularly alarmed.
Tim would have gladly have punished Paul on the spot for his
interference, but he did not consider it prudent to provoke
hostilities. Paul was as tall as himself, and considerably
stronger. He thereforewisely confined himself to threatening
words.
"Come along with me, Phil," said Paul, kindly, to the little
fiddler.
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 my
father only thought of the money."
Filippo and Giacomo were from the same town in Calabria. They
were the sons of Italian peasants who had been unable to resist
the offers of the padrone, and for less than a hundred dollars
each had sold his son into the cruelest slavery. The boys were
torn from their native hills, from their families, and in a
foreign land were doomed to walk the streets from fourteen to
sixteen hours in every twenty-four, gathering money from which
they received small benefit. Many times, as they trudged through
the streets, weary and hungry, sometimes cold, they thought with
homesick sadness of the sunny fields in which their earliest
years had been passed, but the hard realities of the life they
were now leading soon demanded their attention.
Naturally light-hearted, Filippo, or Phil, bore his hard lot more
cheerfully than some of his comrades. But Giacomo was more
delicate, and less able to bear want and fatigue. His livelier
comrade cheered him up, and Giacomo always felt better after
talking with Phil.
As the two boys were walking together, a heavy hand was laid on
the shoulder of each, and a harsh voice said: "Is this the way
you waste your time, little rascals?"
Both boys started, and looking up, recognized the padrone. He
was a short man, very dark with fierce black eyes and a sinister
countenance. It was his habit to walk about the streets from
time to time, and keep a watch, unobserved, upon his young
apprentices, if they may be so called. If he found them
loitering about, or neglecting their work, they were liable to
receive a sharp reminder.
The boys were both startled at his sudden appearance, but after
the first start, Phil, who was naturally courageous, recovered
his self-possession. Not so with Giacomo, who was the more
afraid because he knew he had gained but little money thus far.
"We are not wasting our time, padrone," said Phil, looking up
fearlessly.
"We will see about that. How long have you been together?"
"Only five minutes."
"How much money have you, Filippo?"
"A dollar and twenty cents."
"Good; you have done well. And how is it with you, Giacomo?"
"I have forty cents."
"Then you have been idle," said the padrone, frowning.
"No, signore," said the boy, trembling. "I have played, but they
did not give me much money."
"It is not his fault," said Phil, coming boldly to the defense of
his friend.
"Attend to your own affairs, little scrape-grace," said the
padrone, roughly. "He might have got as much as you."
"No, padrone; I was lucky. A kind lady gave me fifty cents."
"That is not my affair. I don't care where you get the money.
But if you don't bring home all I expect, you shall feel the
stick."
These last words were addressed to Giacomo, who understood their
import only too well. In the miserablelodging where he herded
with thirty or forty others scarcely a night passed without the
brutal punishment of one or more unfortunate boys, who had been
unsuccessful in bringing home enough to satisfy the rapacity of
the padrone. But of this an account will hereafter be given.
"Now, go to work, both of you," said the padrone, harshly.
The two boys separated. Giacomo went uptown, while Phil kept on
his way toward the Astor House. The padrone made his way to the
nearest liquor shop, where he invested a portion of the money
wrung from the hard earnings of his young apprentices.
Toward the close of the afternoon Phil found himself in front of
the Astor House. He had played several times, but was not
fortunate in findingliberal auditors. He had secured but ten
cents during this time, and it seemed doubtful whether he would
reach the sum he wanted. He crossed over to the City Hall Park,
and, feeling tired, sat down on one of the benches. Two
bootblacks were already seated upon it.
"Play us a tune, Johnny," said one.
"Will you give me pennies?" asked Phil doubtfully, for he did
not care, with such a severe taskmaster, to work for nothing.
"Yes, we'll give you pennies."
Upon this, Phil struck up a tune.
"Where's your monkey?" asked one of the boys.
"I have no monkey."
"If you want a monkey, here's one for you," said Tim Rafferty,
putting his hand on his companion's shoulder.
"He's too big," said Phil, laughing.
"Hould yer gab, Tim Rafferty," said the other. "It's you that'll
make a better monkey nor I. Say, Johnny, do you pay your monkeys
well?"
"Give me my pennies," said Phil, with an eye to business.
"Play another tune, then."
Phil obeyed directions. When he had finished, a contribution was
taken up, but it only amounted to seven cents. However,
considering the character of the audience, this was as much as
could be expected.
"How much have you made to-day, Johnny?" asked Tim.
"A dollar," said Phil.
"A dollar! That's more nor I have made. I tell you what, boys,
I think I'll buy a fiddle myself. I'll make more money that way
than blackin' boots."
"A great fiddler you'd make, Tim Rafferty."
"Can't I play, then? Lend me your fiddle, Johnny, till I try it
a little."
Phil shook his head.
"Give it to me now; I won't be hurtin' it."
"You'll break it."
"Then I'll pay for it."
"It isn't mine."
"Whose is it, then?"
"The padrone's."
"And who's the padrone?"
"The man I live with. If the fiddle is broken, he will beat me."
"Then he's an ould haythen, and you may tell him so, with Tim
Rafferty's compliments. But I won't hurt it."
Phil, however, feared to trust the violin in unskillful hands.
He knew the penalty if any harm befell it, and he had no mind to
run the risk. So he rose from the seat, and withdrew to a little
distance, Tim Rafferty following, for, though he cared little at
first, he now felt determined to try the fiddle.
"If you don't give it to me I'll put a head on you," he said.
"You shall not have it," said Phil, firmly, for he, too, could be
determined.
"The little chap's showing fight," said Tim's companion. "Look
out, Tim; he'll mash you."
"I can fight him wid one hand," said Tim.
He advanced upon our young hero, who, being much smaller, would
probably have been compelled to yield to superior force but for
an interference entirely unexpected by Tim.
CHAPTER IV
AN INVITATION TO SUPPER
Tim had raised his fist to strike the young fiddler, when he was
suddenly pushed aside with considerable force, and came near
measuring his length on the ground.
"Who did that?" he cried, angrily, recovering his equilibrium.
"I did it," said a calm voice.
Tim recognized in the speaker Paul Hoffman, whom some of my
readers will remember as "Paul the Peddler." Paul was proprietor
of a necktie stand below the Astor House, and was just returning
home to supper.
He was a brave and manly boy, and his sympathies were always in
favor of the oppressed. He had met Phil before, and talked with
him, and seeing him in danger came to his assistance.
"What made you push me?" demanded Tim, fiercely.
"What were you going to do to him?" rejoined Paul, indicating
the Italian boy.
"I was only goin' to borrer his fiddle."
"He would have broken it," said Phil.
"You don't know how to play," said Paul. "You would have broken
his fiddle, and then he would be beaten."
"I would pay for it if I did," said Tim.
"You say so, but you wouldn't. Even if you did, it would take
time, and the boy would have suffered."
"What business is that of yours?" demanded Tim, angrily.
"It is always my business when I see a big boy teasing a little
one."
"You'll get hurt some day," said Tim, suddenly.
"Not by you," returned Paul, not particularly alarmed.
Tim would have gladly have punished Paul on the spot for his
interference, but he did not consider it prudent to provoke
hostilities. Paul was as tall as himself, and considerably
stronger. He thereforewisely confined himself to threatening
words.
"Come along with me, Phil," said Paul, kindly, to the little
fiddler.
- therefore [´ðeəfɔ:]
ad.&conj.因此；所以 (初中英语单词) - cheese [tʃi:z] n.干酪，乳酪 (初中英语单词)
- italian [i´tæliən] a.意大利 n.意大利人 (初中英语单词)
- bitterly [´bitəli] ad.悲痛地；憎恨地 (初中英语单词)
- unable [ʌn´eibəl] a.不能的；无能为力的 (初中英语单词)
- slavery [´sleivəri] n.奴隶制；奴役 (初中英语单词)
- fierce [fiəs] a.残忍的；强烈的 (初中英语单词)
- miserable [´mizərəbəl] a.悲惨的；可怜的 (初中英语单词)
- punishment [´pʌniʃmənt] n.罚，刑罚 (初中英语单词)
- unfortunate [ʌn´fɔ:tʃunit] a.不幸的，运气差的 (初中英语单词)
- account [ə´kaunt] vi.说明 vt.认为 n.帐目 (初中英语单词)
- liquor [´likə] n.酒类；(溶)液 (初中英语单词)
- portion [´pɔ:ʃən] n.嫁妆；命运 vt.分配 (初中英语单词)
- liberal [´libərəl] a.大方的 n.开明的人 (初中英语单词)
- severe [si´viə] a.严厉的；苛刻的 (初中英语单词)
- monkey [´mʌŋki] n.猴子 v.乱弄；胡闹 (初中英语单词)
- character [´kæriktə] n.特性；性质；人物；字 (初中英语单词)
- audience [´ɔ:diəns] n.听众；观众；接见 (初中英语单词)
- firmly [´fə:mli] ad.坚固地，稳定地 (初中英语单词)
- companion [kəm´pæniən] n.同伴；同事；伴侣 (初中英语单词)
- advanced [əd´vɑ:nst] a.先进的；高级的 (初中英语单词)
- invitation [,invi´teiʃən] n.邀请；请帖；吸引 (初中英语单词)
- considerable [kən´sidərəbəl] a.重要的；值得重视 (初中英语单词)
- speaker [´spi:kə] n.演讲人；代言人 (初中英语单词)
- decided [di´saidid] a.明显的；决定的 (高中英语单词)
- enjoyment [in´dʒɔimənt] n.享受；愉快；乐趣 (高中英语单词)
- sadness [´sædnis] n.悲哀；悲痛；凄惨 (高中英语单词)
- fatigue [fə´ti:g] n.&vt.(使)疲劳(劳累) (高中英语单词)
- liable [´laiəbəl] a.易于...的；有责任的 (高中英语单词)
- boldly [´bəuldli] ad.大胆地；醒目地 (高中英语单词)
- roughly [´rʌfli] ad.粗糙地；毛糙地 (高中英语单词)
- lodging [´lɔdʒiŋ] n.寄宿，住宿 (高中英语单词)
- hereafter [hiər´ɑ:ftə] ad.&n.将来；来世 (高中英语单词)
- finding [´faindiŋ] n.发现物；判断；结果 (高中英语单词)
- doubtful [´dautful] a.怀疑的，可疑的 (高中英语单词)
- contribution [,kɔntri´bju:ʃən] n.贡献；捐献；投稿 (高中英语单词)
- penalty [´penlti] n.刑罚；惩罚；障碍 (高中英语单词)
- withdrew [wið´dru:] withdraw的过去式 (高中英语单词)
- interference [,intə´fiərəns] n.干涉，干扰，妨碍 (高中英语单词)
- unexpected [ʌniks´pektid] a.突然的；意外的 (高中英语单词)
- angrily [´æŋgrili] ad.生气地；愤怒地 (高中英语单词)
- seeing [si:iŋ] see的现在分词 n.视觉 (高中英语单词)
- gladly [´glædli] ad.愉快地，高兴地 (高中英语单词)
- prudent [´pru:dənt] a.谨慎的；精明的 (高中英语单词)
- wisely [´waizli] ad.明智地，聪明地 (高中英语单词)
- luxurious [lʌg´zjuəriəs] a.奢侈的；豪华的 (英语四级单词)
- gathering [´gæðəriŋ] n.集会，聚集 (英语四级单词)
- courageous [kə´reidʒəs] a.勇敢的；无畏的 (英语四级单词)
- wasting [´weistiŋ] a.&n.浪费(的) (英语四级单词)
- fiddle [´fidl] n.小提琴 v.拉提琴 (英语四级单词)
- violin [,vaiə´lin] n.(小)提琴 (英语四级单词)
- befell [bi´fel] befall的过去式 (英语四级单词)
- necktie [´nektai] n.领带 (英语四级单词)
- frugal [´fru:gəl] a.节俭的，俭朴的 (英语六级单词)
- speaking [´spi:kiŋ] n.说话 a.发言的 (英语六级单词)
- unobserved [´ʌnəb´sə:vd] a.没有观察到 (英语六级单词)
- earnings [´ə:niŋz] n.收益；报酬；获得 (英语六级单词)
- doubtfully [´dautfuli] ad.怀疑地，可疑地 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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