章节正文
"Thank you for saving me," said Phil, gratefully. "The padrone
would beat me if the fiddle was broke."
"Never mind about thanks, Phil. Tim is a bully with small boys,
but he is a coward among large ones. Have you had any supper?"
"No," said Phil.
"Won't you come home and take supper with me?"
Phil hesitated.
"You are kind," he said, "but I fear the padrone."
"What will he do to you?"
"He will beat me if I don't bring home enough money."
"How much more must you get?"
"Sixty cents."
"You can play better after a good supper. Come along; I won't
keep you long."
Phil made no more objection. He was a healthy boy, and his
wanderings had given him a good appetite. So he thanked Paul,
and walked along by his side. One object Paul had in inviting
him was, the fear that Tim Rafferty might take advantage of his
absence to renew his assault upon Phil, and with better success
than before.
"How old are you, Phil?" he asked.
"Twelve years."
"And who taught you to play?"
"No one. I heard the other boys play, and so I learned."
"Do you like it?"
"Sometimes; but I get tired of it."
"I don't wonder. I should think playing day after day might
tire you. What are you going to do when you become a man?"
Phil shrugged his shoulders.
"I don't know," he said. "I think I'll go back to Italy."
"Have you any relations there?"
"I have a mother and two sisters."
"And a father?"
"Yes, a father."
"Why did they let you come away?"
"The padrone gave my father money."
"Don't you hear anything from home?"
"No, signore."
"I am not a signore," said Paul, smiling. "You may call me Paul.
Is that an Italian name?"
"Me call it Paolo."
"That sounds queer to me. What's James in Italian?"
"Giacomo."
"Then I have a little brother Giacomo."
"How old is he?"
"Eight years old."
"My sister Bettina is eight years. I wish I could see her."
"You will see her again some day, Phil. You will get rich in
America, and go back to sunny Italy."
"The padrone takes all my money."
"You'll get away from the old rascal some day. Keep up good
courage, Phil, and all will come right. But here we are. Follow
me upstairs, and I will introduce you to my mother and Giacomo,"
said Paul, laughing at the Italian name he had given his little
brother.
Mrs. Hoffman and Jimmy looked with some surprise at the little
fiddler as he entered with Paul.
"Mother," said Paul, "this is one of my friends, whom I have
invited to take supper with us."
"He is welcome," said Mrs. Hoffman, kindly. "Have you ever
spoken to us of him?"
"I am not sure. His name is Phil--Phil the fiddler, we call
him."
"Filippo," said the young musician.
"We will call you Phil; it is easier to speak," said Paul. "This
is my little brother Jimmy. He is a great artist."
"Now you are laughing at me, Paul," said the little boy.
"Well, he is going to be a great artist some day, if he isn't one
yet. Do you think, Jimmy, you could draw Phil, here, with his
fiddle?"
"I think I could," said the little boy, slowly, looking carefully
at their young guest; "but it would take some time."
"Perhaps Phil will come some day, and give you a sitting."
"Will you come?" asked Jimmy.
"I will come some day."
Meanwhile Mrs. Hoffman was preparing supper. Since Paul had
become proprietor of the necktie stand, as described in the last
volume, they were able to live with less regard to economy than
before. So, when the table was spread, it presented quite a
tempting appearance. Beefsteak, rolls, fried potatoes, coffee,
and preserves graced the board.
"Supper is ready, Paul," said his mother, when all was finished.
"Here, Phil, you may sit here at my right hand," said Paul. "I
will put your violin where it will not be injured."
Phil sat down as directed, not without feeling a little awkward,
yet with a sense of anticipated pleasure. Accustomed to bread
and cheese alone, the modestrepast before him seemed like a
royal feast. The meat especially attracted him, for he had not
tasted any for months, indeed seldom in his life, for in Italy it
is seldom eaten by the class to which Phil's parents belonged.
"Let me give you some meat, Phil," said Paul. "Now, shall we
drink the health of the padrone in coffee?"
"I will not drink his health," said Phil. "He is a bad man."
"Who is the padrone?" asked Jimmy, curiously.
"He is my master. He sends me out to play for money."
"And must you give all the money you make to him?"
"Yes; if I do not bring much money, he will beat me."
"Then he must be a bad man. Why do you live with him?"
"He bought me from my father."
"He bought you?" repeated Jimmy, puzzled.
"He hires him for so much money," explained Paul.
"But why did your father let you go with a bad man?" asked
Jimmy.
"He wanted the money," said Phil. "He cared more for money than
for me."
What wonder that the boys sold into such cruel slavery should be
estranged from the fathers who for a few paltry ducats sell the
liberty and happiness of their children. Even where the contract
is for a limited terms of years, the boys in five cases out of
ten are not returned at the appointed time. A part, unable to
bear the hardships and privations of the life upon which they
enter, are swept off by death, while of those that survive, a
part are weaned from their homes, or are not permitted to go
back.
"You must not ask too many questions, Jimmy." said Mrs. Hoffman,
fearing that he might awaken sad thoughts in the little musician.
She was glad to see that Phil ate with a good appetite. In truth
he relished the supper, which was the best he remembered to have
tasted for many a long day.
"Is Italy like America?" asked Jimmy, whose curiosity was
excited to learn something of Phil's birthplace.
"It is much nicer," said Phil, with a natural love of country.
"There are olive trees and orange trees, and grapes--very many."
"Are there really orange trees? Have you seen them grow?"
"I have picked them from the trees many times."
"I should like that, but I don't care for olives."
"They are good, too."
"I should like the grapes."
"There are other things in Italy which you would like better,
Jimmy," said Paul.
"What do you mean, Paul?"
"The galleries of fine paintings."
"Yes, I should like to see them. Have you seen them?"
Phil shook his head. The picture galleries are in the cities,
and not in the country district where he was born.
"Sometime, when I am rich, we will all go to Italy, Jimmy; then,
if Phil is at home, we will go and see him."
"I should like that, Paul."
Though Jimmy was not yet eight years old, he had already
exhibited a remarkable taste for drawing, and without having
received any instruction, could copy any ordinary picture with
great exactness. It was the little boy's ambition to become an
artist, and in this ambition he was encouraged by Paul, who
intended, as soon as he could afford it, to engage an instructor
for Jimmy.
CHAPTER V
ON THE FERRY BOAT
When supper was over, Phil bethought himself that his day's work
was not yet over. He had still a considerable sum to obtain
before he dared go home, if such a name can be given to the
miserable tenement in Crosby Street where he herded with his
companions. But before going he wished to show his gratitude to
Paul for his protection and the supper which he had so much and
so unexpectedly enjoyed.
"Shall I play for you?" he asked, taking his violin from the top
of the bureau, 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. After a short prelude, he struck into an Italian song.
Though the words were unintelligible, 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
an injured 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
deeply injured. But if he has time, Phil will favor us with
another song."
So the little fiddler once more touched the strings of his
violin, and sang 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 him up 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
have you."
"Do come," pleaded Jimmy, who had taken a fancy to the dark-eyed
Italian boy, whose brilliant brown complexion contrasted strongly
with his own pale face and blue eyes.
These words gave Phil a strange pleasure. Since his arrival in
America he had become accustomed to harsh words and blows; but
words of kindness were strangers to his ears. For an hour he
forgot the street and his uninviting home, and felt himself
surrounded by a true home atmosphere. He almost fancied himself
in his Calabrian home, with his mother and sisters about him --in
his home as it was before cupidity entered his father's heart and
impelled him to sell his own flesh and blood into slavery in a
foreign land. Phil could not analyze his own emotions, but these
were the feelings which rose in his heart, and filed it with
transient 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. Come there any afternoon between four and five, and I will
take you home to supper. Do you know the way out, or shall I go
would beat me if the fiddle was broke."
"Never mind about thanks, Phil. Tim is a bully with small boys,
but he is a coward among large ones. Have you had any supper?"
"No," said Phil.
"Won't you come home and take supper with me?"
Phil hesitated.
"You are kind," he said, "but I fear the padrone."
"What will he do to you?"
"He will beat me if I don't bring home enough money."
"How much more must you get?"
"Sixty cents."
"You can play better after a good supper. Come along; I won't
keep you long."
Phil made no more objection. He was a healthy boy, and his
wanderings had given him a good appetite. So he thanked Paul,
and walked along by his side. One object Paul had in inviting
him was, the fear that Tim Rafferty might take advantage of his
absence to renew his assault upon Phil, and with better success
than before.
"How old are you, Phil?" he asked.
"Twelve years."
"And who taught you to play?"
"No one. I heard the other boys play, and so I learned."
"Do you like it?"
"Sometimes; but I get tired of it."
"I don't wonder. I should think playing day after day might
tire you. What are you going to do when you become a man?"
Phil shrugged his shoulders.
"I don't know," he said. "I think I'll go back to Italy."
"Have you any relations there?"
"I have a mother and two sisters."
"And a father?"
"Yes, a father."
"Why did they let you come away?"
"The padrone gave my father money."
"Don't you hear anything from home?"
"No, signore."
"I am not a signore," said Paul, smiling. "You may call me Paul.
Is that an Italian name?"
"Me call it Paolo."
"That sounds queer to me. What's James in Italian?"
"Giacomo."
"Then I have a little brother Giacomo."
"How old is he?"
"Eight years old."
"My sister Bettina is eight years. I wish I could see her."
"You will see her again some day, Phil. You will get rich in
America, and go back to sunny Italy."
"The padrone takes all my money."
"You'll get away from the old rascal some day. Keep up good
courage, Phil, and all will come right. But here we are. Follow
me upstairs, and I will introduce you to my mother and Giacomo,"
said Paul, laughing at the Italian name he had given his little
brother.
Mrs. Hoffman and Jimmy looked with some surprise at the little
fiddler as he entered with Paul.
"Mother," said Paul, "this is one of my friends, whom I have
invited to take supper with us."
"He is welcome," said Mrs. Hoffman, kindly. "Have you ever
spoken to us of him?"
"I am not sure. His name is Phil--Phil the fiddler, we call
him."
"Filippo," said the young musician.
"We will call you Phil; it is easier to speak," said Paul. "This
is my little brother Jimmy. He is a great artist."
"Now you are laughing at me, Paul," said the little boy.
"Well, he is going to be a great artist some day, if he isn't one
yet. Do you think, Jimmy, you could draw Phil, here, with his
fiddle?"
"I think I could," said the little boy, slowly, looking carefully
at their young guest; "but it would take some time."
"Perhaps Phil will come some day, and give you a sitting."
"Will you come?" asked Jimmy.
"I will come some day."
Meanwhile Mrs. Hoffman was preparing supper. Since Paul had
become proprietor of the necktie stand, as described in the last
volume, they were able to live with less regard to economy than
before. So, when the table was spread, it presented quite a
tempting appearance. Beefsteak, rolls, fried potatoes, coffee,
and preserves graced the board.
"Supper is ready, Paul," said his mother, when all was finished.
"Here, Phil, you may sit here at my right hand," said Paul. "I
will put your violin where it will not be injured."
Phil sat down as directed, not without feeling a little awkward,
yet with a sense of anticipated pleasure. Accustomed to bread
and cheese alone, the modestrepast before him seemed like a
royal feast. The meat especially attracted him, for he had not
tasted any for months, indeed seldom in his life, for in Italy it
is seldom eaten by the class to which Phil's parents belonged.
"Let me give you some meat, Phil," said Paul. "Now, shall we
drink the health of the padrone in coffee?"
"I will not drink his health," said Phil. "He is a bad man."
"Who is the padrone?" asked Jimmy, curiously.
"He is my master. He sends me out to play for money."
"And must you give all the money you make to him?"
"Yes; if I do not bring much money, he will beat me."
"Then he must be a bad man. Why do you live with him?"
"He bought me from my father."
"He bought you?" repeated Jimmy, puzzled.
"He hires him for so much money," explained Paul.
"But why did your father let you go with a bad man?" asked
Jimmy.
"He wanted the money," said Phil. "He cared more for money than
for me."
What wonder that the boys sold into such cruel slavery should be
estranged from the fathers who for a few paltry ducats sell the
liberty and happiness of their children. Even where the contract
is for a limited terms of years, the boys in five cases out of
ten are not returned at the appointed time. A part, unable to
bear the hardships and privations of the life upon which they
enter, are swept off by death, while of those that survive, a
part are weaned from their homes, or are not permitted to go
back.
"You must not ask too many questions, Jimmy." said Mrs. Hoffman,
fearing that he might awaken sad thoughts in the little musician.
She was glad to see that Phil ate with a good appetite. In truth
he relished the supper, which was the best he remembered to have
tasted for many a long day.
"Is Italy like America?" asked Jimmy, whose curiosity was
excited to learn something of Phil's birthplace.
"It is much nicer," said Phil, with a natural love of country.
"There are olive trees and orange trees, and grapes--very many."
"Are there really orange trees? Have you seen them grow?"
"I have picked them from the trees many times."
"I should like that, but I don't care for olives."
"They are good, too."
"I should like the grapes."
"There are other things in Italy which you would like better,
Jimmy," said Paul.
"What do you mean, Paul?"
"The galleries of fine paintings."
"Yes, I should like to see them. Have you seen them?"
Phil shook his head. The picture galleries are in the cities,
and not in the country district where he was born.
"Sometime, when I am rich, we will all go to Italy, Jimmy; then,
if Phil is at home, we will go and see him."
"I should like that, Paul."
Though Jimmy was not yet eight years old, he had already
exhibited a remarkable taste for drawing, and without having
received any instruction, could copy any ordinary picture with
great exactness. It was the little boy's ambition to become an
artist, and in this ambition he was encouraged by Paul, who
intended, as soon as he could afford it, to engage an instructor
for Jimmy.
CHAPTER V
ON THE FERRY BOAT
When supper was over, Phil bethought himself that his day's work
was not yet over. He had still a considerable sum to obtain
before he dared go home, if such a name can be given to the
miserable tenement in Crosby Street where he herded with his
companions. But before going he wished to show his gratitude to
Paul for his protection and the supper which he had so much and
so unexpectedly enjoyed.
"Shall I play for you?" he asked, taking his violin from the top
of the bureau, 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. After a short prelude, he struck into an Italian song.
Though the words were unintelligible, 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
an injured 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
deeply injured. But if he has time, Phil will favor us with
another song."
So the little fiddler once more touched the strings of his
violin, and sang 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 him up 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
have you."
"Do come," pleaded Jimmy, who had taken a fancy to the dark-eyed
Italian boy, whose brilliant brown complexion contrasted strongly
with his own pale face and blue eyes.
These words gave Phil a strange pleasure. Since his arrival in
America he had become accustomed to harsh words and blows; but
words of kindness were strangers to his ears. For an hour he
forgot the street and his uninviting home, and felt himself
surrounded by a true home atmosphere. He almost fancied himself
in his Calabrian home, with his mother and sisters about him --in
his home as it was before cupidity entered his father's heart and
impelled him to sell his own flesh and blood into slavery in a
foreign land. Phil could not analyze his own emotions, but these
were the feelings which rose in his heart, and filed it with
transient 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. Come there any afternoon between four and five, and I will
take you home to supper. Do you know the way out, or shall I go
- gratefully [´greitfuli]
ad.感激地 (初中英语单词) - coward [´kauəd] n.胆怯者 a.胆小的 (初中英语单词)
- objection [əb´dʒekʃən] n.反对；异议；缺点 (初中英语单词)
- healthy [´helθi] a.健康的 (初中英语单词)
- appetite [´æpitait] n.欲望；食欲 (初中英语单词)
- advantage [əd´vɑ:ntidʒ] n.优势；利益 (初中英语单词)
- assault [ə´sɔ:lt] vt.袭击；殴打 n.攻击 (初中英语单词)
- italian [i´tæliən] a.意大利 n.意大利人 (初中英语单词)
- economy [i´kɔnəmi] n.经济；机制；组织 (初中英语单词)
- cheese [tʃi:z] n.干酪，乳酪 (初中英语单词)
- modest [´mɔdist] a.谦虚的；朴素的 (初中英语单词)
- slavery [´sleivəri] n.奴隶制；奴役 (初中英语单词)
- unable [ʌn´eibəl] a.不能的；无能为力的 (初中英语单词)
- survive [sə´vaiv] vt.幸存；残存 (初中英语单词)
- awaken [ə´weikən] v.唤起，叫醒 (初中英语单词)
- curiosity [,kjuəri´ɔsiti] n.好奇；奇事；珍品 (初中英语单词)
- remarkable [ri´mɑ:kəbl] a.值得注意的；显著的 (初中英语单词)
- instruction [in´strʌkʃən] n.教育；训练；指导 (初中英语单词)
- ambition [æm´biʃən] n.雄心，野心；企图 (初中英语单词)
- considerable [kən´sidərəbəl] a.重要的；值得重视 (初中英语单词)
- gratitude [´grætitju:d] n.感激，感谢 (初中英语单词)
- protection [prə´tekʃən] n.警戒；护照；通行证 (初中英语单词)
- bureau [´bjuərəu] n.局；编辑部；事务所 (初中英语单词)
- appreciate [ə´pri:ʃieit] v.评价；珍惜；感激 (初中英语单词)
- brilliant [´briliənt] a.灿烂的；杰出的 (初中英语单词)
- arrival [ə´raivəl] n.到达；到达的人(物) (初中英语单词)
- atmosphere [´ætməsfiə] n.大气；空气；气氛 (初中英语单词)
- rascal [´rɑ:skəl] n.流氓 (高中英语单词)
- proprietor [prə´praiətə] n.所有人；业主；经营者 (高中英语单词)
- repeated [ri´pi:tid] a.反复的；重复的 (高中英语单词)
- limited [´limitid] a.有限(制)的 (高中英语单词)
- complexion [kəm´plekʃən] n.肤色；情况；局面 (高中英语单词)
- fiddle [´fidl] n.小提琴 v.拉提琴 (英语四级单词)
- upstairs [,ʌp´steəz] ad.在楼上 a.楼上的 (英语四级单词)
- necktie [´nektai] n.领带 (英语四级单词)
- violin [,vaiə´lin] n.(小)提琴 (英语四级单词)
- drawing [´drɔ:iŋ] n.画图；制图；图样 (英语四级单词)
- tenement [´tenimənt] n.公寓 (英语四级单词)
- unexpectedly [´ʌniks´pektidli] ad.意外地；突然地 (英语四级单词)
- lighting [´laitiŋ] n.照明，发光 (英语四级单词)
- repast [ri´pɑ:st] n.餐 vi.就餐，设宴 (英语六级单词)
- taking [´teikiŋ] a.迷人的 n.捕获物 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
章节正文
京公网安备 11011202003401号
