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Alger, Horatio, Jr.

"Phil, The Fiddler"


"Whisht now; I don't nade any thanks. Come down by the fire
now."
So Phil went down, and Bridget, on hospitable thoughts intent,
drew her only rocking-chair near the stove, and forced Phil to
sit down in it. Then she told him, with evident enjoyment, of
the trick which Pietro had tried to play on her, and how he had
failed.
"He couldn't chate me, the haythen!" she concluded. "I was too
smart for the likes of him, anyhow. Where do you live when you
are at home?"
"I have no home now," said Phil, with tears in his eyes.
"And have you no father and mother?"
"Yes," said Phil. "They live in Italy."
"And why did they let you go so far away?"
"They were poor, and the padrone offered them money," answered
Phil, forced to answer, though the subject was an unpleasant one.
"And did they know he was a bad man and would bate you?"
"I don't think they knew," said Phil, with hesitation. "My
mother did not know."
"I've got three childer myself," said Bridget; "they'll get wet
comin' home from school, the darlints--but I wouldn't let them go
with any man to a far country, if he'd give me all the gowld in
the world. And where does that man live that trates you so bad?"
"In New York.


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