His music was listened to with attention, but when he came to pass his cap round afterward the result was small.
In fact, to be precise, the collection amounted to but eight cents.
"How's business, boy ?" asked a young man who stood at the door in his shirt-sleeves, and was evidently employed in the grocery.
"That is all I have taken," said Phil, showing the eight cents.
"Did you come from New York this morning ?" "Yes." "Then you haven't got enough to pay for your ticket yet ?" Phil shrugged his shoulders.
"I don't believe you'll make your fortune out here." Phil was of precisely the same opinion, but kept silent.
"You would have done better to stay in New York." To this also Phil mentally assented, but there were imperative reasons, as we know, for leaving the great city.
It was already half-past twelve, and Phil began, after his walk, to feel the cravings of appetite.

He accordingly went into the grocery and bought some crackers and cheese, which he sat down by the stove and ate.
"Are you going farther ?" asked the same young man who had questioned him before.
"I shall go back to Newark to-night," said Phil.
"Let me try your violin." "Can you play ?" asked Phil, doubtfully, for he feared that an unpracticed player might injure the instrument.
"Yes, I can play.

I've got a fiddle at home myself." Our hero surrendered his fiddle to the young man, who played passably.
"You've got a pretty good fiddle," he said.

"I think it's better than mine.

Can you play any dancing tunes ?" Phil knew one or two, and played them.
"If you were not going back to Newark, I should like to have you play with me this evening.