CHAPTER XIV
THE TAMBOURINE GIRL
Arriving at Trinity Church, Phil turned into Wall Street, looking abouthim in a desultory way, for he was at present out of business. Men andboys were hurrying by in different directions, to and from banks andinsurance offices, while here and there a lawyer or lawyer's clerk mightbe seen looking no less busy and preoccupied. If Phil had had threethousand dollars instead of three, he, too, might have been interestedin the price of gold and stocks; but his financial education hadbeen neglected, and he could not have guessed within twenty the day'squotations for either.
As he walked along his attention was suddenly drawn to a pair ofItalians, a man and a girl of twelve, the former turning a hand-organ,the latter playing a tambourine. There was nothing unusual in the group;but Phil's heart beat quick for in the girl he thought he recognized aplaymate from the same village in which he was born and bred.
"Lucia!" he called, eagerly approaching the pair.
The girl turned quickly, and, seeing the young fiddler, let fall hertambourine in surprise.
"Filippo!" she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with the joy with whichwe greet a friend's face in a strange land.
"Why did you drop your tambourine, scelerata?" demanded the man,harshly.
Lucia, a pretty, brown-faced girl, did not lose her joyful look even atthis rebuke. She stooped and picked up the tambourine, and began to playmechanically, but continued to speak to Filippo.
"How long are you in the city?" asked Phil, speaking, of course, in hisnative language.
"Only two weeks," answered Lucia. "I am so glad to see you, Filippo."
"When did you come from Italy?"
"I cannot tell. I think it is somewhere about two months."
"And did you see my mother before you came away?" asked Phil, eagerly.
"Yes, Filippo, I saw her. She told me if I saw you to say that shelonged for her dear boy to return; that she thought of him day andnight."
"Did she say that, Lucia?"
"Yes, Filippo."
"And is my mother well?" asked Phil, anxiously, for he had a strong lovefor his mother.
"She is well, Filippo--she is not sick, but she is thin, and she lookssad."
"I will go and see her some day," said Phil. "I wish I could see hernow."
"When will you go?"
"I don't know; when I am older."
"But where is your fiddle, Filippo?" asked Lucia. "Do you not play?"
Filippo glanced at the organ-grinder, whom he did not dare to take intohis confidence. So he answered, evasively:
"Another boy took it. I shall get another this afternoon."
"Are you with the padrone?"
"Yes."
"Come, Lucia," said the man, roughly, ceasing to play, "we must go on."
Lucia followed her companion obediently, reluctant to leave Phil,with whom she desired to converse longer; but the latter saw that herguardian did not wish the conversation to continue, and so did notfollow.
This unexpected meeting with Lucia gave him much to think of. It carriedback his thoughts to his humble, but still dear, Italian home, and themother from whom he had never met with anything but kindness, and alonging to see both made him for the moment almost sad. But he wasnaturally of a joyous temperament, and hope soon returned.
"I will save money enough to go home," he said to himself. "It will nottake very much--not more than fifty dollars. I can get it soon if I donot have to pay money to the padrone."
As may be inferred, Phil did not expect to return home in style. Afirst-class ticket on a Cunarder was far above his expectations. Hewould be content to go by steerage all the way, and that could probablybe done for the sum he named. So his sadness was but brief, and be soonbecame hopeful again.
He was aroused from his thoughts of home by a hand laid familiarly onhis shoulder. Turning, he saw a bootblack, whose adventures havebeen chronicled in the volume called "Ragged Dick." They had becomeacquainted some three months before, Dick having acted as a protector toPhil against some rough boys of his own class.
"Been buyin' stocks?" asked Dick.
"I don't know what they are," said Phil, innocently.
"You're a green one," said Dick. "I shall have to take you into mybankin' house and give you some training in business."
"Have you got a bankin' house?" asked Phil, in surprise.
"In course I have. Don't you see it?" pointing to an imposing-lookingstructure in front of which they were just passing. "My clerks is allhard to work in there, while I go out to take the air for the benefit ofmy constitushun."
Phil looked puzzled, not quite understanding Dick's chaffing, and lookedrather inquiringly at the blacking box, finding it a little difficult tounderstand why a banker on so large a scale should be blacking boots inthe street.
"Shine your boots, sir?" said Dick to a gentleman just passing.
"Not now; I'm in a hurry."
"Blackin' boots is good exercise," continued Dick, answering the doubtin Phil's face. "I do it for the benefit of my health, thus combinin'profit with salubriousness."
"I can't understand such long words," said Phil. "I don't know muchEnglish."
"I would talk to you in Italian," said Dick, "only it makes my headache. What's come of your fiddle? You haven't sold it, and bought Erieshares, have you?"
"A boy stole it from me, and broke it."
"I'd like to lick him. Who was it?"
"I think his name was Tim Rafferty."
"I know him," said Dick. "I'll give him a lickin' next time I see him."
"Can you?" asked Phil, doubtfully, for his enemy was as large as Dick.
"In course I can. My fists are like sledge-hammers. Jest feel mymuscle."
Dick straightened out his arm, and Phil felt of the muscle, which washard and firm.
"It's as tough as a ten-year-old chicken," said Dick. "It won't behealthy for Tim to come round my way. What made him steal your fiddle?He ain't goin' into the musical line, is he?"
"He was angry because I didn't want to lend it to him."
Just then Tim Rafferty himself turned the corner. There was a lull inhis business, and he was wandering along the street eating an apple.
"There he is," said Phil, suddenly espying his enemy.
Dick looked up, and saw with satisfaction that Phil was right. Tim hadnot yet espied either, nor did he till Dick addressed him.
"Are you round collectin' fiddles this mornin'?" he asked.
Tim looked up, and, seeing that his victim had found an able champion,felt anxious to withdraw. He was about to turn back, but Dick advancedwith a determined air.
"Jest stop a minute, Tim Rafferty," said he. "I'm a-goin' to intervooyou for the Herald. That's what they do with all the big rascalsnowadays."
"I'm in a hurry," said Tim.
"That's what the pickpocket said when the cop was gently persuadin' himto go to the Tombs, but the cop didn't see it. I want the pleasure ofyour society a minute or two. I hear you're in the music business."
"No, I'm not," said Tim, shortly.
"What made you borrer this boy's fiddle, then?"
"I don't know anything about it," said Tim, in a fright.
"Some folks forgets easy," returned Dick. "I know a man what went intoTiffany's and took up a watch to look at, and carried it off, forgettin'to pay for it. That's what he told the judge the next day, and the judgesent him to the island for a few months to improve his memory. The airover to the island is very good to improve the memory."
"You ought to know," said Tim, sullenly; "you've been there timesenough."
"Have I?" said Dick. "Maybe you saw me there. Was it the ninth time youwere there, or the tenth?"
"I never was there," said Tim.
"Maybe it was your twin brother." suggested Dick. "What made you breakmy friend's fiddle? He wouldn't have minded it so much, only it belongedto his grandfather, a noble count, who made boots for a livin'."
"I don't believe he had a fiddle at all," said T
im.
"That's where your forgetfulness comes in," said Dick "Have you forgotthe lickin' I gave you last summer for stealin' my blackin' box?"
"You didn't lick me," said Tim.
"Then I'll lick you harder next time," said Dick.
"You ain't able," said Tim, who, glancing over his shoulder, saw theapproach of a policeman, and felt secure.
"I will be soon," said Dick, who also observed the approach of thepoliceman. "I'd do it now, only I've got to buy some gold for a friendof mine. Just let me know when it's perfectly convenient to take alickin'."
Tim shuffled off, glad to get away unharmed, and Dick turned to Phil.
"I'll give him a lickin' the first time I catch him, when there isn't acop around," he said.
Phil left his friend at this point, for he saw by the clock on Trinityspire that it was time to go back to join Paul Hoffman, as he hadagreed. I may here add that Phil's wrongs were avenged that sameevening, his friend, Dick, administered to Tim the promised "lickin'"with such good effect that the latter carried a black eye for a weekafterwards.