I wish I could see her."
"You will see her again some day, Phil. You will get rich in
America, and go back to sunny Italy."
"The padrone takes all my money."
"You'll get away from the old rascal some day. Keep up good
courage, Phil, and all will come right. But here we are. Follow
me upstairs, and I will introduce you to my mother and Giacomo,"
said Paul, laughing at the Italian name he had given his little
brother.
Mrs. Hoffman and Jimmy looked with some surprise at the little
fiddler as he entered with Paul.
"Mother," said Paul, "this is one of my friends, whom I have
invited to take supper with us."
"He is welcome," said Mrs. Hoffman, kindly. "Have you ever
spoken to us of him?"
"I am not sure. His name is Phil--Phil the fiddler, we call
him."
"Filippo," said the young musician.
"We will call you Phil; it is easier to speak," said Paul. "This
is my little brother Jimmy. He is a great artist."
"Now you are laughing at me, Paul," said the little boy.
"Well, he is going to be a great artist some day, if he isn't one
yet. Do you think, Jimmy, you could draw Phil, here, with his
fiddle?"
"I think I could," said the little boy, slowly, looking carefully
at their young guest; "but it would take some time.
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