They were clamorous for another tune, but Phil could not afford to work for nothing, and, seeing no prospects of additional pay, took his violin, and walked away, much to the regret of his young auditors, who, though not rich, were appreciative.

They followed him to the end of the block, hoping that he would play again, but they were disappointed.
Phil played two or three times more, managing to obtain in all twenty-five cents additional.

He reached the corner of Thirteenth Street just as the large public school, known as the Thirteenth Street School, was dismissed for its noon intermission.
"Give us a tune, Johnny," cried Edward Eustis, one of the oldest boys.
"Yes, a tune," joined in several others.
This was an invitation to which Phil was always willing to respond.
Besides, he knew from experience that boys were more generous, in proportion to their means, than those of larger growth, and he hoped to get enough from the crowd around him to increase his store to a dollar.
The boys gathered around the little minstrel, who struck up an Italian tune, but without the words.
"Sing, sing!" cried the boys.
Phil began to sing.

His clear, fresh voice produced a favorable impression upon the boys.
"He's a bully singer," said one.

"I can't sing much better myself." "You sing! Your singing would be enough to scare a dozen tom cats." "Then we should be well matched.