Chapter VI. Signor Orlando

So Phil reached New York in very fair spirits. He found himself, thanks to the liberality of Mr. Grant, in a better financial position than when he left home.

As he left the depot and found himself in the streets of New York, he felt like a stranger upon the threshold of a new life. He knew almost nothing about the great city he had entered, and was at a loss where to seek for lodgings.

"It's a cold day," said a sociable voice at his elbow.

Looking around, Phil saw that the speaker was a sallow-complexioned young man, with black hair and mustache, a loose black felt hat, crushed at the crown, giving him rather a rakish look.

"Yes, sir," answered Phil politely.

"Stranger in the city, I expect?"

"Yes, sir."

"Never mind the sir. I ain't used to ceremony. I am Signor Orlando."

"Signor Orlando!" repeated Phil, rather puzzled.

"Are you an Italian?"

"Well, yes," returned Signor Orlando, with a wink, "that's what I am, or what people think me; but I was born in Vermont, and am half Irish and half Yankee."

"How did you come by your name, then?"

"I took it," answered his companion. "You see, dear boy, I'm a professional."

"A what?"

"A professional--singer and clog-dancer. I believe I am pretty well known to the public," continued Signor Orlando complacently. "Last summer I traveled with Jenks & Brown's circus. Of course you've heard of them. Through the winter I am employed at Bowerman's Varieties, in the Bowery. I appear every night, and at two matinees weekly."

It must be confessed that Phil was considerably impressed by the professional character of Signor Orlando. He had never met an actor, or public performer of any description, and was disposed to have a high respect for a man who filled such a conspicuous position. There was not, to be sure, anything very impressive about Signor Orlando's appearance. His face did not indicate talent, and his dress was shabby. But for all that he was a man familiar with the public--a man of gifts.

"I should like to see you on the stage," said Phil respectfully.

"So you shall, my dear boy--so you shall. I'll get you a pass from Mr. Bowerman. Which way are you going?"

"I don't know," answered Phil, puzzled. "I should like to find a cheap boarding-house, but I don't know the city."

"I do," answered Signor Orlando promptly. "Why not come to my house?"

"Have you a house?"

"I mean my boarding-house. It's some distance away. Suppose we take a horse-car?"

"All right!" answered Phil, relieved to find a guide in the labyrinth of the great city.