Phil; watching with interest the various contributions, was best pleased
with the last. The money he must carry to the padrone. The apple he
might keep for himself, and it would vary agreeably his usual meager
fare.

"The biggest contribution yet," said Edward.

"Here, Sprague, you are liberal. What'll you give?"

"My note at ninety days."

"You might fail before it comes due."

"Then take three cents. 'Tis all I have; 'I can no more, though poor the
offering be.'"

"Oh, don't quote Shakespeare."

"It isn't Shakespeare; it's Milton."

"Just as much one as the other."

"Here, Johnny," said Edward, after going the rounds, "hold your hands,
and I'll pour out the money. You can retire from business now on a
fortune."

Phil was accustomed to be addressed as Johnny, that being the generic
name for boy in New York. He deposited the money in his pocket, and,
taking his fiddle, played once more in acknowledgment of the donation.