“You’ll have a big house to-night, Philip,” he said.  “I know a lot of fellows that are going.”

“I am glad to hear it,” said Philip, well pleased, for he concluded that if such were the case his purse would be considerably heavier the next day.

“It’s strange how quick you’ve come up;” said Morris.  “I never expected you’d be so famous.”

“Nor I,” said Philip, laughing.

“I’d give anything if I could have my name posted round like yours.”

“Perhaps you will have, some time.”

“Oh, no!  I couldn’t play more’n a pig,” said Morris decidedly.  “I’ll have to be a clerk, and stick to business.”

“You’ll make more money in the end that way, Morris, even if your name isn’t printed in capitals.”

They retired into a small room adjoining the stage, to prepare for their appearance.

The professor rubbed his hands in glee.

“Did you see what a house we have, Mr. de Gray?”

“Yes, professor.”

“I think there’ll be a hundred dollars over and above expenses.”

“That will be splendid!” said Philip, naturally elated.

“The firm of Riccaboeca and De Gray is starting swimmingly.”

“So it is.  I hope it will continue so.”

“Here is the program, Mr. de Gray.  You will observe that I appear first, in my famous soliloquy.  You will follow, with the ’Carnival of Venice.’  Do you feel agitated?”

“Oh, no.  I am so used to playing that I shall not feel at all bashful.”

“That is well.”

“I would like to be on the stage, professor, to hear you.”

“Certainly.  I have anticipated your desire, and provided an extra chair.”

The time came, and Professor Riccabocca stepped upon the stage, his manner full of dignity, and advanced to the desk.  Philip took a chair a little to the rear.

Their entrance was greeted by hearty applause.  The professor made a stately bow, and a brief introductory speech, in which he said several things about Philip and himself which rather astonished our hero.  Then he began to recite the soliloquy.

Probably it was never before so amazingly recited.  Professor Riccabocca’s gestures, facial contortions, and inflections were very remarkable.  Philip almost suspected that he was essaying a burlesque role.

The mature portion of the audience were evidently puzzled, but the small boys were delighted, and with some of the young men, stamped vigorously at the close.

Professor Riccabocea bowed modestly, and said: 

“Gentlemen and ladies, you will now have the pleasure of listening to the young and talented Philip de Gray, the wonderful boy-musician, in his unrivaled rendition of the ’Carnival of Venice.’”

Philip rose, coloring a little with shame a I this high-flown introduction, and came forward.

All applauded heartily, for sympathy is always felt for a young performer, especially when he has a manly bearing and an attractive face, such as our hero possessed.