"I am glad to see you, Phil," said Mrs. Hoffman. "Why have you
not come before?"
"How is that, Phil? Will you stay now?" said Paul.
Mrs. Hoffman looked at Paul inquiringly.
"Phil was afraid he would not be welcome," he exclaimed.
"He is always welcome," said Mrs. Hoffman.
"Where is your fiddle?" asked Jimmy.
"A boy took it," said Phil, "and threw it into the street, and a
wagon went over it and broke it."
Jimmy was quite indignant for his friend, when the story had been
told.
"It's lucky for Tim Rafferty that he is not here," said Paul, "or
he might suffer."
"If I was a big boy I'd lick him," said Jimmy, belligerently.
"I never saw you so warlike before, Jimmy," said Paul.
To Phil this sympathy seemed pleasant. He felt that he was in
the midst of friends, and friends were not so plentiful as not to
be valued.
"What are you going to have for dinner, mother?" asked Paul.
"I am sorry, Paul, that I have no warm meat. I have some cold
roast beef, some hot potatoes, and an apple pudding."
"You needn't apologize, mother. That's good enough for anybody.
It's as good as Phil gets at his boarding house, I am sure. He
has got rather tired of it, and isn't going to stay.
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