By this time the song was finished, and Phil, taking off his cap, went the rounds. None of the contributions were larger than five cents, until he came to the young lady of whom we have spoken above. She drew a twenty-five-cent piece from her portemonnaie, and put it into Phil’s hand, with a gracious smile, which pleased the young fiddler as much as the gift, welcome though that undoubtedly was.
“Thank you, lady,” he said.
“You sing very nicely,” she replied.
Phil smiled, and dirty though his face was, the smile lighted it up with rare beauty.
“Do you often come on these boats?” asked the young lady.
“Sometimes, but they do not always let me play,” said Phil.
“I hope I shall hear you again. You have a good voice.”
“Thank you, signorina.”
“You can speak English. I tried to speak with one of you the other day, but he could only speak Italian.”
“I know a few words, signorina.”