"Thank you, signora," said Phil, with a grateful smile.
"That money is thrown away," said the elderly lady; "you are very
indiscriminate in your charity, Eleanor."
"It is better to give too much than too little, Aunt Maria, isn't
it?"
"You shouldn't give to unworthy objects."
"How do you know this boy is an unworthy object?"
"He is a young vagrant."
"Can he help it? It is the way he makes his living."
The discussion continued, but Phil did not stop to hear it. He
had received more than he expected, and now felt ready to
continue his business. One thing was fortunate, and relieved him
from the anxiety which he had formerly labored under. He was not
obliged to obtain a certain sum in order to escape a beating at
night. He had no master to account to. He was his own employer,
as long as he kept out of the clutches of the padrone.
Phil continued to roam about the streets very much after the old
fashion, playing here and there as he thought it expedient. By
noon he had picked up seventy-five cents, and felt very well
satisfied with his success. But if, as we are told, the hour
that is darkest is just before day, it also happens sometimes
that danger lies in wait for prosperity, and danger menaced our
young hero, though he did not know it.
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