This, to him, would be an irreparable misfortune and subject him to a
severe punishment, though the fault would not be his.

Next he strolled into a side street, and began to play in front of some
dwelling-houses. Two or three young children, who had been playing in
the street, gathered about him, and one of them gave him a penny. They
were clamorous for another tune, but Phil could not afford to work for
nothing, and, seeing no prospects of additional pay, took his violin,
and walked away, much to the regret of his young auditors, who, though
not rich, were appreciative. They followed him to the end of the block,
hoping that he would play again, but they were disappointed.

Phil played two or three times more, managing to obtain in all
twenty-five cents additional. He reached the corner of Thirteenth Street
just as the large public school, known as the Thirteenth Street School,
was dismissed for its noon intermission.

"Give us a tune, Johnny," cried Edward Eustis, one of the oldest boys.

"Yes, a tune," joined in several others.

This was an invitation to which Phil was always willing to respond.
Besides, he knew from experience that boys were more generous, in
proportion to their means, than those of larger growth, and he hoped to
get enough from the crowd around him to increase his store to a dollar.

The boys gathered around the little minstrel, who struck up an Italian
tune, but without the words.

"Sing, sing!" cried the boys.