"You ought to learn more."

"I can play more," said Phil, "but I know not the words."

"Then play some tunes."

Thereupon the little Italian struck up "Yankee Doodle," which he played
with spirit and evident enjoyment.

"Do you know the name of that?" asked Henry.

Phil shook his head.

"It is 'Yankee Doodle.'"

Phil tried to pronounce it, but the words in his mouth had a droll
sound, and made them laugh.

"How old are you?" asked Henry.

"Twelve years."

"Then you are quite as old as I am."

"I wish you were as well and strong as he seems to be," said Mrs. Leigh,
sighing, as she looked at Henry's pale face.

That was little likely to be. Always a delicate child, Henry had a
year previous contracted a cold, which had attacked his lungs, and had