“Some cannot speak at all. Some speak french, because we all stayed in Paris sometime before we came to America.”
“Parlez-vous Francais?”
“Oui, monsieur, un peu.”
“Well, I can’t. Those three words are all the French I know. But, I say, Phil, you ought to have a fiddle.”
“I should like to have one. I should make more money.”
“How much would one cost?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll tell you what I will do, Phil,” said Paul, after a moment’s thought. “I know a pawnbroker’s shop on Chatham Street where there is a fiddle for sale. I don’t think it will cost very much; not more than five dollars. You must buy it.”
“I have not five dollars,” said Phil.
“Then I will lend you the money. You shall buy it, and when you have earned money enough you shall come back to New York some day and pay me.”