章节正文
"Well, Gardner," said the first, "where shall we go to-night?"
"Why need we go anywhere?"
"I thought you might like to go to some place of amusement."
"So I would if the weather were less inclement. The most
comfortable place is by the fire."
"You are right as to that, but the evening will be long and
stupid."
"Oh, we can worry it through. Here, for instance, are two young
musicians," indicating the little fiddlers. "Suppose we get a
tune out of them?"
"Agreed. Here, boy, can you play on that fiddle?"
"Yes," said Phil.
"Well, give us a tune, then. Is that your brother?"
"No, he is my comrade."
"He can play, too."
"Will you play, Giacomo?"
The younger boy roused himself. The two stood up, and played two
or three tunes successfully. A group of loungers gathered around
them and listened approvingly. When they had finished Phil took
off his hat and went the rounds. Some gave, the two first
mentioned contributing most liberally. The whole sum collected
was about fifty cents.
Phil and Giacomo now resumed their seats. They felt now that
they were entitled to rest for the remainder of the evening,
since they had gained quite as much as they would have been
likely to earn in wandering about the streets. The group that
had gathered about them dispersed, and they ceased to be objects
of attention. Fatigue and the warmth of the room gradually
affected Giacomo until he leaned back and fell asleep.
"I won't take him till it's time to go back," thought Phil.
So Giacomo slept on, despite the noises in the street outside and
the confusionincident to every large hotel. As he sat asleep,
he attracted the attention of a stout gentleman who was passing,
leading by the hand a boy of ten.
"Is that your brother?" he asked in a low tone of Phil.
"No, signore; it is my comrade."
"So you go about together?"
"Yes, sir," answered Phil, bethinking himself to use English
instead of Italian.
"He seems tired."
"Yes; he is not so strong as I am."
"Do you play about the streets all day?"
"Yes, sir."
"How would you like that, Henry?" asked his father to the boy at
his side.
"I should like to play about the streets all day," said Henry,
roguishly, misinterpreting the word "play."
"I think you would get tired of it. What is your name, my boy?"
"Filippo."
"And what is the name of your friend?"
"Giacomo."
"Did you never go to school?"
Phil shook his head.
"Would you like to go?"
"Yes, sir."
"You would like it better than wandering about the streets all
day?"
"Yes, sir."
"Why do you not ask your father to send you to school?"
"My father is in Italy."
"And his father, also?"
"Si, signore," answered Phil, relapsing into Italian.
"What do you think of that, Henry?" asked the gentleman. "How
should you like to leave me, and go to some Italian city to roam
about all day, playing on the violin?"
"I think I would rather go to school."
"I think you would."
"Are you often out so late, Filippo? I think that is the name
you gave me."
Phil shrugged his shoulders
"Always," he answered.
"At what time do you go home?"
"At eleven."
"It is too late for a boy of your age to sit up. Why do you not
go home sooner?"
"The padrone would beat me."
"Who is the padrone?"
"The man who brought me from Italy to America."
"Poor boys!" said the gentleman, compassionately. "Yours is a
hard life. I hope some time you will be in a better position."
Phil fixed his dark eyes upon the stranger, grateful for his
words of sympathy.
"Thank you," he said.
"Good-night," said the stranger, kindly.
"Good-night, signore."
An hour passed. The City Hall clock near by struck eleven. The
time had come for returning to their mercenaryguardian. Phil
shook the sleeping form of Giacomo. The little boy stirred in
his sleep, and murmured, "Madre." He had been dreaming of his
mother and his far-off Italian home. He woke to the harsh
realities of life, four thousand miles away from that mother and
home.
"Have I slept, Filippo?" he asked, rubbing his eyes, and looking
about him in momentary bewilderment.
"Yes, Giacomo. You have slept for two hours and more. It is
eleven o'clock."
"Then we must go back."
"Yes; take your violin, and we will go."
They passed out into the cold street, which seemed yet colder by
contrast with the warm hotel they just left, and, crossing to the
sidewalk that skirts the park, walked up Centre street.
Giacomo was seized with a fit of trembling. His teeth chattered
with the cold. A fever was approaching, although neither he nor
his companion knew it.
"Are you cold, Giacomo?" asked Phil, noticing how he trembled.
"I am very cold. I feel sick, Filippo."
"You will feel better to-morrow," said Phil; but the thought of
the beating which his little comrade was sure to receive saddened
him more than the prospect of being treated in the same way
himself.
They kept on their way, past the Tombs with its gloomy entrance,
through the ill-lighted street, scarcely noticed by the policeman
whom they passed--for he was accustomed to see boys of their
class out late at night--until at last they reached the dwelling
of the padrone, who was waiting their arrival with the eagerness
of a brutal nature, impatient to inflict pain.
CHAPTER XI
THE BOYS RECEPTION
Phil and Giacomo entered the lodging-house, whollyunconscious of
the threatening storm, The padrone scowled at them as they
entered but that was nothing unusual. Had he greeted them
kindly, they would have had reason to be surprised.
"Well," he said, harshly, "how much do you bring?"
The boys produced two dollars and a half which he pocketed.
"Is this all?" he asked.
"It was cold," said Phil, "and we could not get more."
The padrone listened with an ominous frown.
"Are you hungry?" he asked. "Do you want your supper?"
Phil was puzzled by his manner, for he expected to be deprived of
his supper on account of bringing less money than usual. Why
should the padrone ask him if he wanted his supper? Though he
was not hungry, he thought it best to answer in the affirmative.
"What would you like?" asked the padrone.
Again Phil was puzzled, for the suppers supplied by the padrone
never varied, always consisting of bread and cheese.
"Perhaps," continued the padrone, meeting no answer, "you would
like to have coffee and roast beef."
All was clear now. Phil understood that he had been seen going
in or out of the restaurant, though he could not tell by whom.
He knew well enough what to expect, but a chivalrous feeling of
friendship led him to try to shield his young companion, even at
the risk of a more severepunishment to be inflicted upon
himself.
"It was my fault," he said, manfully. "Giacomo would not have
gone in but for me."
"Wicked, ungrateful boy!" exclaimed the padrone, wrathfully.
"It was my money that you spent. You are a thief!"
Phil felt that this was a hard word, which he did not deserve.
The money was earned by himself, though claimed by the padrone.
But he did not venture to say this. It would have been
revolutionary. He thought it prudent to be silent.
"Why do you say nothing?" exclaimed the padrone, stamping his
foot. "Why did you spend my money?"
"I was hungry."
"So you must live like a nobleman! Our supper is not good enough
for you. How much did you spend?"
"Thirty cents."
"For each?"
"No, signore, for both."
"Then you shall have each fifteen blows, one for each penny. I
will teach you to be a thief. Pietro, the stick! Now, strip!"
"Padrone," said Phil, generously" target="_blank" title="ad.慷慨地">generously, "let me have all the blows. It
was my fault; Giacomo only went because I asked him."
If the padrone had had a heart, this generous request would have
touched it; but he was not troubled in that way.
"He must be whipped, too," he said. "He should not have gone
with you."
"He is sick, padrone," persisted Phil. "Excuse him till he is
better."
"Not a word more," roared the padrone, irritated at his
persistence. "If he is sick, it is because he has eaten too
much," he added, with a sneer. "Pietro, my stick!"
The two boys began to strip mechanically, knowing that there was
no appeal. Phil stood bare to the waist. The padrone seized the
stick and began to belabor him. Phil's brown face showed by its
contortions the pain he suffered, but he was too proud to cry
out. When the punishment was finished his back was streaked with
red, and looked maimed and bruised.
"Put on your shirt!" commanded the tyrant.
Phil drew it on over his bleeding back and resumed his place
among his comrades.
"Now!" said the padrone, beckoning to Giacomo.
The little boy approached shivering, not so much with cold as
with the fever that had already begun to prey upon him.
Phil turned pale and sick as he looked at the padrone preparing
to inflictpunishment. He would gladly have left the room, but
he knew that it would not be permitted.
The first blow descended heavily upon the shrinking form of the
little victim. It was followed by a shriek of pain and terror.
"What are you howling at?" muttered the padrone, between his
teeth. "I will whip you the harder."
Giacomo would have been less able to bear the cruel punishment
than Phil if he had been well, but being sick, it was all the
more terrible to him. The second blow likewise was followed by a
shriek of anguish. Phil looked on with pale face, set teeth, and
blazing eyes, as he saw the barbarouspunishment of his comrade.
He felt that he hated the padrone with a fiercehatred. Had his
strength been equal to the attempt, he would have flung himself
upon the padrone. As it was, he looked at his comrades, half
wishing that they would combine with him against their joint
oppressor. But there was no hope of that. Some congratulated
"Why need we go anywhere?"
"I thought you might like to go to some place of amusement."
"So I would if the weather were less inclement. The most
comfortable place is by the fire."
"You are right as to that, but the evening will be long and
stupid."
"Oh, we can worry it through. Here, for instance, are two young
musicians," indicating the little fiddlers. "Suppose we get a
tune out of them?"
"Agreed. Here, boy, can you play on that fiddle?"
"Yes," said Phil.
"Well, give us a tune, then. Is that your brother?"
"No, he is my comrade."
"He can play, too."
"Will you play, Giacomo?"
The younger boy roused himself. The two stood up, and played two
or three tunes successfully. A group of loungers gathered around
them and listened approvingly. When they had finished Phil took
off his hat and went the rounds. Some gave, the two first
mentioned contributing most liberally. The whole sum collected
was about fifty cents.
Phil and Giacomo now resumed their seats. They felt now that
they were entitled to rest for the remainder of the evening,
since they had gained quite as much as they would have been
likely to earn in wandering about the streets. The group that
had gathered about them dispersed, and they ceased to be objects
of attention. Fatigue and the warmth of the room gradually
affected Giacomo until he leaned back and fell asleep.
"I won't take him till it's time to go back," thought Phil.
So Giacomo slept on, despite the noises in the street outside and
the confusionincident to every large hotel. As he sat asleep,
he attracted the attention of a stout gentleman who was passing,
leading by the hand a boy of ten.
"Is that your brother?" he asked in a low tone of Phil.
"No, signore; it is my comrade."
"So you go about together?"
"Yes, sir," answered Phil, bethinking himself to use English
instead of Italian.
"He seems tired."
"Yes; he is not so strong as I am."
"Do you play about the streets all day?"
"Yes, sir."
"How would you like that, Henry?" asked his father to the boy at
his side.
"I should like to play about the streets all day," said Henry,
roguishly, misinterpreting the word "play."
"I think you would get tired of it. What is your name, my boy?"
"Filippo."
"And what is the name of your friend?"
"Giacomo."
"Did you never go to school?"
Phil shook his head.
"Would you like to go?"
"Yes, sir."
"You would like it better than wandering about the streets all
day?"
"Yes, sir."
"Why do you not ask your father to send you to school?"
"My father is in Italy."
"And his father, also?"
"Si, signore," answered Phil, relapsing into Italian.
"What do you think of that, Henry?" asked the gentleman. "How
should you like to leave me, and go to some Italian city to roam
about all day, playing on the violin?"
"I think I would rather go to school."
"I think you would."
"Are you often out so late, Filippo? I think that is the name
you gave me."
Phil shrugged his shoulders
"Always," he answered.
"At what time do you go home?"
"At eleven."
"It is too late for a boy of your age to sit up. Why do you not
go home sooner?"
"The padrone would beat me."
"Who is the padrone?"
"The man who brought me from Italy to America."
"Poor boys!" said the gentleman, compassionately. "Yours is a
hard life. I hope some time you will be in a better position."
Phil fixed his dark eyes upon the stranger, grateful for his
words of sympathy.
"Thank you," he said.
"Good-night," said the stranger, kindly.
"Good-night, signore."
An hour passed. The City Hall clock near by struck eleven. The
time had come for returning to their mercenaryguardian. Phil
shook the sleeping form of Giacomo. The little boy stirred in
his sleep, and murmured, "Madre." He had been dreaming of his
mother and his far-off Italian home. He woke to the harsh
realities of life, four thousand miles away from that mother and
home.
"Have I slept, Filippo?" he asked, rubbing his eyes, and looking
about him in momentary bewilderment.
"Yes, Giacomo. You have slept for two hours and more. It is
eleven o'clock."
"Then we must go back."
"Yes; take your violin, and we will go."
They passed out into the cold street, which seemed yet colder by
contrast with the warm hotel they just left, and, crossing to the
sidewalk that skirts the park, walked up Centre street.
Giacomo was seized with a fit of trembling. His teeth chattered
with the cold. A fever was approaching, although neither he nor
his companion knew it.
"Are you cold, Giacomo?" asked Phil, noticing how he trembled.
"I am very cold. I feel sick, Filippo."
"You will feel better to-morrow," said Phil; but the thought of
the beating which his little comrade was sure to receive saddened
him more than the prospect of being treated in the same way
himself.
They kept on their way, past the Tombs with its gloomy entrance,
through the ill-lighted street, scarcely noticed by the policeman
whom they passed--for he was accustomed to see boys of their
class out late at night--until at last they reached the dwelling
of the padrone, who was waiting their arrival with the eagerness
of a brutal nature, impatient to inflict pain.
CHAPTER XI
THE BOYS RECEPTION
Phil and Giacomo entered the lodging-house, whollyunconscious of
the threatening storm, The padrone scowled at them as they
entered but that was nothing unusual. Had he greeted them
kindly, they would have had reason to be surprised.
"Well," he said, harshly, "how much do you bring?"
The boys produced two dollars and a half which he pocketed.
"Is this all?" he asked.
"It was cold," said Phil, "and we could not get more."
The padrone listened with an ominous frown.
"Are you hungry?" he asked. "Do you want your supper?"
Phil was puzzled by his manner, for he expected to be deprived of
his supper on account of bringing less money than usual. Why
should the padrone ask him if he wanted his supper? Though he
was not hungry, he thought it best to answer in the affirmative.
"What would you like?" asked the padrone.
Again Phil was puzzled, for the suppers supplied by the padrone
never varied, always consisting of bread and cheese.
"Perhaps," continued the padrone, meeting no answer, "you would
like to have coffee and roast beef."
All was clear now. Phil understood that he had been seen going
in or out of the restaurant, though he could not tell by whom.
He knew well enough what to expect, but a chivalrous feeling of
friendship led him to try to shield his young companion, even at
the risk of a more severepunishment to be inflicted upon
himself.
"It was my fault," he said, manfully. "Giacomo would not have
gone in but for me."
"Wicked, ungrateful boy!" exclaimed the padrone, wrathfully.
"It was my money that you spent. You are a thief!"
Phil felt that this was a hard word, which he did not deserve.
The money was earned by himself, though claimed by the padrone.
But he did not venture to say this. It would have been
revolutionary. He thought it prudent to be silent.
"Why do you say nothing?" exclaimed the padrone, stamping his
foot. "Why did you spend my money?"
"I was hungry."
"So you must live like a nobleman! Our supper is not good enough
for you. How much did you spend?"
"Thirty cents."
"For each?"
"No, signore, for both."
"Then you shall have each fifteen blows, one for each penny. I
will teach you to be a thief. Pietro, the stick! Now, strip!"
"Padrone," said Phil, generously" target="_blank" title="ad.慷慨地">generously, "let me have all the blows. It
was my fault; Giacomo only went because I asked him."
If the padrone had had a heart, this generous request would have
touched it; but he was not troubled in that way.
"He must be whipped, too," he said. "He should not have gone
with you."
"He is sick, padrone," persisted Phil. "Excuse him till he is
better."
"Not a word more," roared the padrone, irritated at his
persistence. "If he is sick, it is because he has eaten too
much," he added, with a sneer. "Pietro, my stick!"
The two boys began to strip mechanically, knowing that there was
no appeal. Phil stood bare to the waist. The padrone seized the
stick and began to belabor him. Phil's brown face showed by its
contortions the pain he suffered, but he was too proud to cry
out. When the punishment was finished his back was streaked with
red, and looked maimed and bruised.
"Put on your shirt!" commanded the tyrant.
Phil drew it on over his bleeding back and resumed his place
among his comrades.
"Now!" said the padrone, beckoning to Giacomo.
The little boy approached shivering, not so much with cold as
with the fever that had already begun to prey upon him.
Phil turned pale and sick as he looked at the padrone preparing
to inflictpunishment. He would gladly have left the room, but
he knew that it would not be permitted.
The first blow descended heavily upon the shrinking form of the
little victim. It was followed by a shriek of pain and terror.
"What are you howling at?" muttered the padrone, between his
teeth. "I will whip you the harder."
Giacomo would have been less able to bear the cruel punishment
than Phil if he had been well, but being sick, it was all the
more terrible to him. The second blow likewise was followed by a
shriek of anguish. Phil looked on with pale face, set teeth, and
blazing eyes, as he saw the barbarouspunishment of his comrade.
He felt that he hated the padrone with a fiercehatred. Had his
strength been equal to the attempt, he would have flung himself
upon the padrone. As it was, he looked at his comrades, half
wishing that they would combine with him against their joint
oppressor. But there was no hope of that. Some congratulated
- instance [´instəns]
n.例子，实例，例证 (初中英语单词) - warmth [wɔ:mθ] n.温暖；热情；激动 (初中英语单词)
- despite [di´spait] prep.尽管 (初中英语单词)
- confusion [kən´fju:ʒən] n.混乱(状态)；骚乱 (初中英语单词)
- incident [´insidənt] n.小事件；事变 (初中英语单词)
- italian [i´tæliən] a.意大利 n.意大利人 (初中英语单词)
- grateful [´greitful] a.感谢的；令人愉快的 (初中英语单词)
- sleeping [´sli:piŋ] n.&a.睡着(的) (初中英语单词)
- companion [kəm´pæniən] n.同伴；同事；伴侣 (初中英语单词)
- prospect [´prɔspekt, prəs´pekt] n.景色；境界 v.勘察 (初中英语单词)
- waiting [´weitiŋ] n.等候；伺候 (初中英语单词)
- arrival [ə´raivəl] n.到达；到达的人(物) (初中英语单词)
- wholly [´həul-li] ad.完全，十足；统统 (初中英语单词)
- unusual [ʌn´ju:ʒuəl] a.不平常的；异常的 (初中英语单词)
- account [ə´kaunt] vi.说明 vt.认为 n.帐目 (初中英语单词)
- restaurant [´restərɔnt] n.饭店，菜馆 (初中英语单词)
- shield [ʃi:ld] n.盾牌；防御 v.保护 (初中英语单词)
- severe [si´viə] a.严厉的；苛刻的 (初中英语单词)
- punishment [´pʌniʃmənt] n.罚，刑罚 (初中英语单词)
- venture [´ventʃə] n.投机 v.冒险；敢于 (初中英语单词)
- generous [´dʒenərəs] a.慷慨的；丰盛的 (初中英语单词)
- knowing [´nəuiŋ] a.会意的，心照不宣的 (初中英语单词)
- victim [´viktim] n.牺牲者；受害者 (初中英语单词)
- shriek [ʃri:k] v.&n.尖叫(声) (初中英语单词)
- likewise [´laikwaiz] ad.同样地；也，又 (初中英语单词)
- fierce [fiəs] a.残忍的；强烈的 (初中英语单词)
- hatred [´heitrid] n.憎恨，敌意 (初中英语单词)
- combine [kəm´bain] v.(使)结合；联合企业 (初中英语单词)
- successfully [sək´sesfəli] ad.成功地 (高中英语单词)
- remainder [ri´meində] n.剩余物；残余部分 (高中英语单词)
- fatigue [fə´ti:g] n.&vt.(使)疲劳(劳累) (高中英语单词)
- guardian [´gɑ:diən] n.监护人；保护人 (高中英语单词)
- gloomy [´glu:mi] a.昏暗的；忧郁的 (高中英语单词)
- impatient [im´peiʃənt] a.不耐烦的，急躁的 (高中英语单词)
- inflict [in´flikt] vt.加以(打击等) (高中英语单词)
- unconscious [ʌn´kɔnʃəs] a.无意识的；不觉察的 (高中英语单词)
- prudent [´pru:dənt] a.谨慎的；精明的 (高中英语单词)
- appeal [ə´pi:l] vi.&n.请求；呼吁；上诉 (高中英语单词)
- gladly [´glædli] ad.愉快地，高兴地 (高中英语单词)
- anguish [´æŋgwiʃ] n.(极度的)痛苦；苦恼 (高中英语单词)
- inclement [in´klemənt] a.冷酷无情的 (英语四级单词)
- far-off [´fɑ:rɔ:f] a.远方的，遥远的 (英语四级单词)
- momentary [´məuməntəri] a.瞬息间的 (英语四级单词)
- violin [,vaiə´lin] n.(小)提琴 (英语四级单词)
- brutal [´bru:tl] a.兽性的；残暴的 (英语四级单词)
- ominous [´ɔminəs] a.不祥的；预示的 (英语四级单词)
- varied [´veərid] a.各种各样的 (英语四级单词)
- generously [´dʒenərəsli] ad.慷慨地 (英语四级单词)
- barbarous [´bɑ:bərəs] a.野蛮的；不规范的 (英语四级单词)
- mercenary [´mə:sinəri] a.唯利是图的；雇佣的 (英语六级单词)
- beating [´bi:tiŋ] n.敲；搅打；失败 (英语六级单词)
- harshly [´hɑ:ʃli] ad.粗糙地，冷酷地 (英语六级单词)
- chivalrous [´ʃivəlrəs] a.勇武的；武士的 (英语六级单词)
- mechanically [mi´kænikəli] ad.机械地；无意识地 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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