“This is better than staying in the Norton Poorhouse!” he said to himself.
CHAPTER XXIV.
LORENZO RICCABOCCA.
Philip’s reputation as a musician was materially increased by his second night’s performance. To adopt a military term, he had crossed swords with the veteran fiddler, Paul Beck, and, in the opinion of all who heard both, had far surpassed him.
This was said openly to Philip by more than one; but he was modest, and had too much tact and good taste to openly agree with them. This modesty raised him higher in the opinion of his admirers.
He was invited by the Blakes to prolong his visit, but preferred to continue on his journey—though his plans were, necessarily, not clearly defined.
Andrew Blake carried him five miles on his way, and from that point our hero used the means of locomotion with which nature had supplied him.
Some six miles farther on there was a manufacturing town of considerable size, named Wilkesville, and it occurred to him that this would be a good place at which to pass the night.
Something might turn up for him there. He hardly knew what, but the two unexpected strokes of luck which he had had thus far encouraged him to think that a third might come to him.
Philip continued on his way—his small pack of clothing in one hand and his violin under his arm. Being in no especial hurry—for it was only the middle of the forenoon—he bethought himself to sit down and rest at the first convenient and inviting place.
He soon came to a large elm tree, which, with its spreading branches, offered a pleasant and grateful shade.