“How would you like that, Henry?” asked his father to the boy at his side.
“I should like to play about the streets all day,” said Henry, roguishly, misinterpreting the word “play.”
“I think you would get tired of it. What is your name, my boy?”
“Filippo.”
“And what is the name of your friend?”
“Giacomo.”
“Did you never go to school?”
Phil shook his head.
“Would you like to go?”
“Yes, sir.”