THE TAMBOURINE GIRL Arriving at Trinity Church, Phil turned into Wall Street, looking about him in a desultory way, for he was at present out of business.

Men and boys were hurrying by in different directions, to and from banks and insurance offices, while here and there a lawyer or lawyer's clerk might be seen looking no less busy and preoccupied.

If Phil had had three thousand dollars instead of three, he, too, might have been interested in the price of gold and stocks; but his financial education had been neglected, and he could not have guessed within twenty the day's quotations for either.
As he walked along his attention was suddenly drawn to a pair of Italians, a man and a girl of twelve, the former turning a hand-organ, the latter playing a tambourine.

There was nothing unusual in the group; but Phil's heart beat quick for in the girl he thought he recognized a playmate from the same village in which he was born and bred.
"Lucia!" he called, eagerly approaching the pair.
The girl turned quickly, and, seeing the young fiddler, let fall her tambourine in surprise.
"Filippo!" she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with the joy with which we greet a friend's face in a strange land.
"Why did you drop your tambourine, scelerata ?" demanded the man, harshly.
Lucia, a pretty, brown-faced girl, did not lose her joyful look even at this rebuke.

She stooped and picked up the tambourine, and began to play mechanically, but continued to speak to Filippo.
"How long are you in the city ?" asked Phil, speaking, of course, in his native language.
"Only two weeks," answered Lucia.