Phil entered the ladies' cabin. Though ostensibly confined to
ladies' use, it was largely occupied also by gentlemen who did
not enjoy the smoke which usually affects disagreeably the
atmosphere of the cabin appropriated to their own sex. Our young
musician knew that to children the hearts and purses of ladies
are more likely to open than those of gentlemen, and this guided
him.
Entering, he found every seat taken. He waited till the boat had
started, and then, taking his position in the center of the rear
cabin, he began to play and sing, fixing at once the attention of
the passengers upon himself.
"That boy's a nuisance; he ought not to be allowed to play on the
boat," muttered an old gentleman, looking up from the columns of
the Evening Post.
"Now, papa," said a young lady at his side, "why need you object
to the poor boy? I am sure he sings very nicely. I like to hear
him."
"I don't."
"You know, papa, you have no taste for music. Why, you went to
sleep at the opera the other evening."
"I tried to," said her father, in whom musical taste had a very
limited development. "It was all nonsense to me."
"He is singing the Hymn of Garibaldi.
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