Phil could not trace his ancestry in an uninterrupted line for several generations like his friend Zed. In fact, it may seem strange to a world so wise as the world is now-a-days, but Phil Garrett never knew who was his own father! His earliest recollections were of hard usage by all around him save his mother, who herself died of hard usage, and left him to the ruthless world, a blind orphan at a tender age. There was as great doubt about Phil's true Christian name as there was about his parentage: some said it was Philip, and others said it ought to be Philander; here and there one contended it must be Philibert, while his godmother, Abigail, inclined to believe it was Philemon, but even she could not justly remember—for, as she used to say, "the parson quite took away her recollection of it, by hemming and hawing, and being so long about the trifling matter of sprinking the child—and all the while she was pretty sartain the christening-cake would be burnt under the wood-ashes, for she made it herself, and placed it under the dish at the last moment, in order that it might not be spoilt while they were at church." However, Phil contrived to teach himself to play on the fiddle when a boy, and thereby managed to win his own living, without ever seeing the sun, or knowing exactly, either his own name, or the name of his father. Zed and Phil were nearly of an age, and became attached to each other when they were in their teens: indeed, from that period of life they were inseparable, except on special occasions. It was a singular companionship, was that of Zed Marrowby, the fisherman, and blind Phil Garrett, the fiddler. As soon as day broke, through spring, summer, and autumn, Zed might be seen wending his way among the osiers, on the banks of old Trent, towards his small narrow boat; and blind Phil, with his fiddle-case under his arm, might be seen leaning on Zed's left shoulder, and hurrying along with him. No matter how heavily it rained, or strongly it blew, the two happy old fellows were as constant in their time of rising, and of their embarkation, as the sun was in mounting above the east, unless Phil happened to be engaged for a wedding or a wake, for the blind fiddler was in high request for all the rustic rejoicings around Torksey, where the singular companions lived—I mean, at Marton, and Sturton, and Fenton, and Newton, on the Lincolnshire side of the Trent; and not less at Laneham, and Dunham, and Drayton, and Rampton, and Leverton, on the side of merry Nottinghamshire.