Two ladies had just come out and taken their seats preparatory to driving off, when Phil stepped up bareheaded and held his cap.

He was an unusually attractive boy, and as he smiled one of the ladies, who was particularly fond of children, noticed him.
"What a handsome boy!" she said to her companion.
"Some pennies for music," said Phil.
"How old are you ?" asked the lady.
"Twelve years." "Just the age of my Johnny.

If I give you some money what will you do with it ?" "I will buy dinner," said Phil.
"I never give to vagrants," said the second lady, a spinster of uncertain age, who did not share her niece's partiality for children.
"It isn't his fault if he is a vagrant, Aunt Maria," said the younger lady.
"I have no doubt he is a thief," continued Aunt Maria, with acerbity.
"I am not a thief," said Phil, indignantly, for he understood very well the imputation, and he replaced his cap on his head.
"I don't believe you are," said the first lady; "here, take this," and she put in his hand twenty-five cents.
"Thank you, signora," said Phil, with a grateful smile.
"That money is thrown away," said the elderly lady; "you are very indiscriminate in your charity, Eleanor." "It is better to give too much than too little, Aunt Maria, isn't it ?" "You shouldn't give to unworthy objects." "How do you know this boy is an unworthy object ?" "He is a young vagrant." "Can he help it?
It is the way he makes his living." The discussion continued, but Phil did not stop to hear it.

He had received more than he expected, and now felt ready to continue his business.

One thing was fortunate, and relieved him from the anxiety which he had formerly labored under.