"It was all nonsense to me." "He is singing the Hymn of Garibaldi.

What a sweet voice he has! Such a handsome little fellow, too!" "He has a dirty face, and his clothes are quite ragged." "But he has beautiful eyes; see how brilliant they are.

No wonder he is dirty and ragged; it isn't his fault, poor boy.

I have no doubt he has a miserable home.

I'm going to give him something." "Just as you like, Florence; as I am not a romantic young damsel, I shall not follow your example."' By this time the song was finished, and Phil, taking off his cap, went the rounds.