"You sing almost as well as I do." Jimmy laughed.
"You sing about as well as you draw," said the little boy.
"There you go again with your envy and jealousy," said Paul, in an injured tone.

"Others appreciate me better." "Sing something, and we will judge of your merits," said his mother.
"Not now," said Paul, shaking his head.

"My feelings are too deeply injured.

But if he has time, Phil will favor us with another song." So the little fiddler once more touched the strings of his violin, and sang the hymn of Garibaldi.
"He has a beautiful voice," said Mrs.Hoffman to Paul.
"Yes, Phil sings much better than most of his class.

Shall I bring him up here again ?" "Any time, Paul.