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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/28961-8.txt b/28961-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..613f5a8 --- /dev/null +++ b/28961-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10816 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Cuore (Heart), by Edmondo De Amicis + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Cuore (Heart) + An Italian Schoolboy's Journal + +Author: Edmondo De Amicis + +Translator: Isabel F. Hapgood + +Release Date: May 24, 2009 [EBook #28961] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CUORE (HEART) *** + + + + +Produced by Emanuela Piasentini and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + + + + [Illustration: + + Cuore + + Edmondo + De + Amicis] + + + [Illustration: "THE BOY HAD WALKED TEN MILES."--Page 123.] + + + + + CUORE + + (HEART) + + AN + + ITALIAN SCHOOLBOY'S JOURNAL + + _A Book for Boys_ + + BY + + EDMONDO DE AMICIS + + _TRANSLATED FROM THE THIRTY-NINTH ITALIAN EDITION_ + + BY + + ISABEL F. HAPGOOD + + NEW YORK + THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY + PUBLISHERS + + + COPYRIGHT, 1887, 1895 and 1901. + + BY THOMAS Y. CROWELL & COMPANY + + COPYRIGHT, 1915. + + BY ISABEL F. HAPGOOD + + Printed in the United States of America + + + + +AUTHOR'S PREFACE + + +THIS book is specially dedicated to the boys of the elementary schools +between the ages of nine and thirteen years, and might be entitled: "The +Story of a Scholastic Year written by a Pupil of the Third Class of an +Italian Municipal School." In saying written by a pupil of the third +class, I do not mean to say that it was written by him exactly as it is +printed. He noted day by day in a copy-book, as well as he knew how, +what he had seen, felt, thought in the school and outside the school; +his father at the end of the year wrote these pages on those notes, +taking care not to alter the thought, and preserving, when it was +possible, the words of his son. Four years later the boy, being then in +the lyceum, read over the MSS. and added something of his own, drawing +on his memories, still fresh, of persons and of things. + +Now read this book, boys; I hope that you will be pleased with it, and +that it may do you good. + + EDMONDO DE AMICIS. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +OCTOBER. + PAGE + THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL 1 + OUR MASTER 3 + AN ACCIDENT 5 + THE CALABRIAN BOY 6 + MY COMRADES 8 + A GENEROUS DEED 10 + MY SCHOOLMISTRESS OF THE UPPER FIRST 12 + IN AN ATTIC 14 + THE SCHOOL 16 + _The Little Patriot of Padua_ 17 + THE CHIMNEY-SWEEP 20 + THE DAY OF THE DEAD 22 + +NOVEMBER. + + MY FRIEND GARRONE 24 + THE CHARCOAL-MAN AND THE GENTLEMAN 26 + MY BROTHER'S SCHOOLMISTRESS 28 + MY MOTHER 30 + MY COMPANION CORETTI 31 + THE HEAD-MASTER 35 + THE SOLDIERS 38 + NELLI'S PROTECTOR 40 + THE HEAD OF THE CLASS 42 + _The Little Vidette of Lombardy_ 44 + THE POOR 50 + +DECEMBER. + + THE TRADER 52 + VANITY 54 + THE FIRST SNOW-STORM 56 + THE LITTLE MASON 58 + A SNOWBALL 61 + THE MISTRESSES 62 + IN THE HOUSE OF THE WOUNDED MAN 64 + _The Little Florentine Scribe_ 66 + WILL 75 + GRATITUDE 77 + +JANUARY. + + THE ASSISTANT MASTER 79 + STARDI'S LIBRARY 81 + THE SON OF THE BLACKSMITH-IRONMONGER 83 + A FINE VISIT 85 + THE FUNERAL OF VITTORIO EMANUELE 87 + FRANTI EXPELLED FROM SCHOOL 89 + _The Sardinian Drummer-Boy_ 91 + THE LOVE OF COUNTRY 100 + ENVY 102 + FRANTI'S MOTHER 104 + HOPE 105 + +FEBRUARY. + + A MEDAL WELL BESTOWED 108 + GOOD RESOLUTIONS 110 + THE ENGINE 112 + PRIDE 114 + THE WOUNDS OF LABOR 116 + THE PRISONER 118 + _Daddy's Nurse_ 122 + THE WORKSHOP 132 + THE LITTLE HARLEQUIN 135 + THE LAST DAY OF THE CARNIVAL 139 + THE BLIND BOYS 142 + THE SICK MASTER 149 + THE STREET 151 + +MARCH. + + THE EVENING SCHOOLS 154 + THE FIGHT 156 + THE BOYS' PARENTS 158 + NUMBER 78 160 + A LITTLE DEAD BOY 163 + THE EVE OF THE FOURTEENTH OF MARCH 164 + THE DISTRIBUTION OF PRIZES 166 + STRIFE 172 + MY SISTER 174 + _Blood of Romagna_ 176 + THE LITTLE MASON ON HIS SICK-BED 184 + COUNT CAVOUR 187 + +APRIL. + + SPRING 189 + KING UMBERTO 191 + THE INFANT ASYLUM 196 + GYMNASTICS 201 + MY FATHER'S TEACHER 204 + CONVALESCENCE 215 + FRIENDS AMONG THE WORKINGMEN 217 + GARRONE'S MOTHER 219 + GIUSEPPE MAZZINI 221 + _Civic Valor_ 223 + +MAY. + + CHILDREN WITH THE RICKETS 229 + SACRIFICE 231 + THE FIRE 233 + _From the Apennines to the Andes_ 237 + SUMMER 276 + POETRY 278 + THE DEAF-MUTE 280 + +JUNE. + + GARIBALDI 290 + THE ARMY 291 + ITALY 293 + THIRTY-TWO DEGREES 295 + MY FATHER 297 + IN THE COUNTRY 298 + THE DISTRIBUTION OF PRIZES TO THE WORKINGMEN 302 + MY DEAD SCHOOLMISTRESS 305 + THANKS 308 + _Shipwreck_ 309 + + JULY. + + THE LAST PAGE FROM MY MOTHER 317 + THE EXAMINATIONS 318 + THE LAST EXAMINATION 321 + FAREWELL 323 + + + + +CUORE. + +AN ITALIAN SCHOOLBOY'S JOURNAL. + + + + +_OCTOBER._ + + +FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL. + + Monday, 17th. + +TO-DAY is the first day of school. These three months of vacation in the +country have passed like a dream. This morning my mother conducted me to +the Baretti schoolhouse to have me enter for the third elementary +course: I was thinking of the country and went unwillingly. All the +streets were swarming with boys: the two book-shops were thronged with +fathers and mothers who were purchasing bags, portfolios, and +copy-books, and in front of the school so many people had collected, +that the beadle and the policeman found it difficult to keep the +entrance disencumbered. Near the door, I felt myself touched on the +shoulder: it was my master of the second class, cheerful, as usual, and +with his red hair ruffled, and he said to me:-- + +"So we are separated forever, Enrico?" + +I knew it perfectly well, yet these words pained me. We made our way in +with difficulty. Ladies, gentlemen, women of the people, workmen, +officials, nuns, servants, all leading boys with one hand, and holding +the promotion books in the other, filled the anteroom and the stairs, +making such a buzzing, that it seemed as though one were entering a +theatre. I beheld again with pleasure that large room on the ground +floor, with the doors leading to the seven classes, where I had passed +nearly every day for three years. There was a throng; the teachers were +going and coming. My schoolmistress of the first upper class greeted me +from the door of the class-room, and said:-- + +"Enrico, you are going to the floor above this year. I shall never see +you pass by any more!" and she gazed sadly at me. The director was +surrounded by women in distress because there was no room for their +sons, and it struck me that his beard was a little whiter than it had +been last year. I found the boys had grown taller and stouter. On the +ground floor, where the divisions had already been made, there were +little children of the first and lowest section, who did not want to +enter the class-rooms, and who resisted like donkeys: it was necessary +to drag them in by force, and some escaped from the benches; others, +when they saw their parents depart, began to cry, and the parents had to +go back and comfort and reprimand them, and the teachers were in +despair. + +My little brother was placed in the class of Mistress Delcati: I was put +with Master Perboni, up stairs on the first floor. At ten o'clock we +were all in our classes: fifty-four of us; only fifteen or sixteen of my +companions of the second class, among them, Derossi, the one who always +gets the first prize. The school seemed to me so small and gloomy when I +thought of the woods and the mountains where I had passed the summer! I +thought again, too, of my master in the second class, who was so good, +and who always smiled at us, and was so small that he seemed to be one +of us, and I grieved that I should no longer see him there, with his +tumbled red hair. Our teacher is tall; he has no beard; his hair is gray +and long; and he has a perpendicular wrinkle on his forehead: he has a +big voice, and he looks at us fixedly, one after the other, as though he +were reading our inmost thoughts; and he never smiles. I said to myself: +"This is my first day. There are nine months more. What toil, what +monthly examinations, what fatigue!" I really needed to see my mother +when I came out, and I ran to kiss her hand. She said to me:-- + +"Courage, Enrico! we will study together." And I returned home content. +But I no longer have my master, with his kind, merry smile, and school +does not seem pleasant to me as it did before. + + +OUR MASTER. + + Tuesday, 18th. + +My new teacher pleases me also, since this morning. While we were coming +in, and when he was already seated at his post, some one of his scholars +of last year every now and then peeped in at the door to salute him; +they would present themselves and greet him:-- + +"Good morning, Signor Teacher!" "Good morning, Signor Perboni!" Some +entered, touched his hand, and ran away. It was evident that they liked +him, and would have liked to return to him. He responded, "Good +morning," and shook the hands which were extended to him, but he looked +at no one; at every greeting his smile remained serious, with that +perpendicular wrinkle on his brow, with his face turned towards the +window, and staring at the roof of the house opposite; and instead of +being cheered by these greetings, he seemed to suffer from them. Then he +surveyed us attentively, one after the other. While he was dictating, he +descended and walked among the benches, and, catching sight of a boy +whose face was all red with little pimples, he stopped dictating, took +the lad's face between his hands and examined it; then he asked him what +was the matter with him, and laid his hand on his forehead, to feel if +it was hot. Meanwhile, a boy behind him got up on the bench, and began +to play the marionette. The teacher turned round suddenly; the boy +resumed his seat at one dash, and remained there, with head hanging, in +expectation of being punished. The master placed one hand on his head +and said to him:-- + +"Don't do so again." Nothing more. + +Then he returned to his table and finished the dictation. When he had +finished dictating, he looked at us a moment in silence; then he said, +very, very slowly, with his big but kind voice:-- + +"Listen. We have a year to pass together; let us see that we pass it +well. Study and be good. I have no family; you are my family. Last year +I had still a mother: she is dead. I am left alone. I have no one but +you in all the world; I have no other affection, no other thought than +you: you must be my sons. I wish you well, and you must like me too. I +do not wish to be obliged to punish any one. Show me that you are boys +of heart: our school shall be a family, and you shall be my consolation +and my pride. I do not ask you to give me a promise on your word of +honor; I am sure that in your hearts you have already answered me 'yes,' +and I thank you." + +At that moment the beadle entered to announce the close of school. We +all left our seats very, very quietly. The boy who had stood up on the +bench approached the master, and said to him, in a trembling voice:-- + +"Forgive me, Signor Master." + +The master kissed him on the brow, and said, "Go, my son." + + +AN ACCIDENT. + + Friday, 21st. + +The year has begun with an accident. On my way to school this morning I +was repeating to my father these words of our teacher, when we perceived +that the street was full of people, who were pressing close to the door +of the schoolhouse. Suddenly my father said: "An accident! The year is +beginning badly!" + +We entered with great difficulty. The big hall was crowded with parents +and children, whom the teachers had not succeeded in drawing off into +the class-rooms, and all were turning towards the director's room, and +we heard the words, "Poor boy! Poor Robetti!" + +Over their heads, at the end of the room, we could see the helmet of a +policeman, and the bald head of the director; then a gentleman with a +tall hat entered, and all said, "That is the doctor." My father inquired +of a master, "What has happened?"--"A wheel has passed over his foot," +replied the latter. "His foot has been crushed," said another. He was a +boy belonging to the second class, who, on his way to school through the +Via Dora Grossa, seeing a little child of the lowest class, who had run +away from its mother, fall down in the middle of the street, a few paces +from an omnibus which was bearing down upon it, had hastened boldly +forward, caught up the child, and placed it in safety; but, as he had +not withdrawn his own foot quickly enough, the wheel of the omnibus had +passed over it. He is the son of a captain of artillery. While we were +being told this, a woman entered the big hall, like a lunatic, and +forced her way through the crowd: she was Robetti's mother, who had been +sent for. Another woman hastened towards her, and flung her arms about +her neck, with sobs: it was the mother of the baby who had been saved. +Both flew into the room, and a desperate cry made itself heard: "Oh my +Giulio! My child!" + +At that moment a carriage stopped before the door, and a little later +the director made his appearance, with the boy in his arms; the latter +leaned his head on his shoulder, with pallid face and closed eyes. Every +one stood very still; the sobs of the mother were audible. The director +paused a moment, quite pale, and raised the boy up a little in his arms, +in order to show him to the people. And then the masters, mistresses, +parents, and boys all murmured together: "Bravo, Robetti! Bravo, poor +child!" and they threw kisses to him; the mistresses and boys who were +near him kissed his hands and his arms. He opened his eyes and said, "My +portfolio!" The mother of the little boy whom he had saved showed it to +him and said, amid her tears, "I will carry it for you, my dear little +angel; I will carry it for you." And in the meantime, the mother of the +wounded boy smiled, as she covered her face with her hands. They went +out, placed the lad comfortably in the carriage, and the carriage drove +away. Then we all entered school in silence. + + +THE CALABRIAN BOY. + + Saturday, 22d. + +Yesterday afternoon, while the master was telling us the news of poor +Robetti, who will have to go on crutches, the director entered with a +new pupil, a lad with a very brown face, black hair, large black eyes, +and thick eyebrows which met on his forehead: he was dressed entirely in +dark clothes, with a black morocco belt round his waist. The director +went away, after speaking a few words in the master's ear, leaving +beside the latter the boy, who glanced about with his big black eyes as +though frightened. The master took him by the hand, and said to the +class: "You ought to be glad. To-day there enters our school a little +Italian born in Reggio, in Calabria, more than five hundred miles from +here. Love your brother who has come from so far away. He was born in a +glorious land, which has given illustrious men to Italy, and which now +furnishes her with stout laborers and brave soldiers; in one of the most +beautiful lands of our country, where there are great forests, and great +mountains, inhabited by people full of talent and courage. Treat him +well, so that he shall not perceive that he is far away from the city in +which he was born; make him see that an Italian boy, in whatever Italian +school he sets his foot, will find brothers there." So saying, he rose +and pointed out on the wall map of Italy the spot where lay Reggio, in +Calabria. Then he called loudly:-- + +"Ernesto Derossi!"--the boy who always has the first prize. Derossi +rose. + +"Come here," said the master. Derossi left his bench and stepped up to +the little table, facing the Calabrian. + +"As the head boy in the school," said the master to him, "bestow the +embrace of welcome on this new companion, in the name of the whole +class--the embrace of the sons of Piedmont to the son of Calabria." + +Derossi embraced the Calabrian, saying in his clear voice, "Welcome!" +and the other kissed him impetuously on the cheeks. All clapped their +hands. "Silence!" cried the master; "don't clap your hands in school!" +But it was evident that he was pleased. And the Calabrian was pleased +also. The master assigned him a place, and accompanied him to the bench. +Then he said again:-- + +"Bear well in mind what I have said to you. In order that this case +might occur, that a Calabrian boy should be as though in his own house +at Turin, and that a boy from Turin should be at home in Calabria, our +country fought for fifty years, and thirty thousand Italians died. You +must all respect and love each other; but any one of you who should give +offence to this comrade, because he was not born in our province, would +render himself unworthy of ever again raising his eyes from the earth +when he passes the tricolored flag." + +Hardly was the Calabrian seated in his place, when his neighbors +presented him with pens and a _print_; and another boy, from the last +bench, sent him a Swiss postage-stamp. + + +MY COMRADES. + + Tuesday, 25th. + +The boy who sent the postage-stamp to the Calabrian is the one who +pleases me best of all. His name is Garrone: he is the biggest boy in +the class: he is about fourteen years old; his head is large, his +shoulders broad; he is good, as one can see when he smiles; but it seems +as though he always thought like a man. I already know many of my +comrades. Another one pleases me, too, by the name of Coretti, and he +wears chocolate-colored trousers and a catskin cap: he is always jolly; +he is the son of a huckster of wood, who was a soldier in the war of +1866, in the squadron of Prince Umberto, and they say that he has three +medals. There is little Nelli, a poor hunchback, a weak boy, with a thin +face. There is one who is very well dressed, who always wears fine +Florentine plush, and is named Votini. On the bench in front of me there +is a boy who is called "the little mason" because his father is a mason: +his face is as round as an apple, with a nose like a small ball; he +possesses a special talent: he knows how to make _a hare's face_, and +they all get him to make a hare's face, and then they laugh. He wears a +little ragged cap, which he carries rolled up in his pocket like a +handkerchief. Beside the little mason there sits Garoffi, a long, thin, +silly fellow, with a nose and beak of a screech owl, and very small +eyes, who is always trafficking in little pens and images and +match-boxes, and who writes the lesson on his nails, in order that he +may read it on the sly. Then there is a young gentleman, Carlo Nobis, +who seems very haughty; and he is between two boys who are sympathetic +to me,--the son of a blacksmith-ironmonger, clad in a jacket which +reaches to his knees, who is pale, as though from illness, who always +has a frightened air, and who never laughs; and one with red hair, who +has a useless arm, and wears it suspended from his neck; his father has +gone away to America, and his mother goes about peddling pot-herbs. And +there is another curious type,--my neighbor on the left,--Stardi--small +and thickset, with no neck,--a gruff fellow, who speaks to no one, and +seems not to understand much, but stands attending to the master without +winking, his brow corrugated with wrinkles, and his teeth clenched; and +if he is questioned when the master is speaking, he makes no reply the +first and second times, and the third time he gives a kick: and beside +him there is a bold, cunning face, belonging to a boy named Franti, who +has already been expelled from another district. There are, in addition, +two brothers who are dressed exactly alike, who resemble each other to a +hair, and both of whom wear caps of Calabrian cut, with a peasant's +plume. But handsomer than all the rest, the one who has the most talent, +who will surely be the head this year also, is Derossi; and the master, +who has already perceived this, always questions him. But I like +Precossi, the son of the blacksmith-ironmonger, the one with the long +jacket, who seems sickly. They say that his father beats him; he is very +timid, and every time that he addresses or touches any one, he says, +"Excuse me," and gazes at them with his kind, sad eyes. But Garrone is +the biggest and the nicest. + + +A GENEROUS DEED. + + Wednesday, 26th. + +It was this very morning that Garrone let us know what he is like. When +I entered the school a little late, because the mistress of the upper +first had stopped me to inquire at what hour she could find me at home, +the master had not yet arrived, and three or four boys were tormenting +poor Crossi, the one with the red hair, who has a dead arm, and whose +mother sells vegetables. They were poking him with rulers, hitting him +in the face with chestnut shells, and were making him out to be a +cripple and a monster, by mimicking him, with his arm hanging from his +neck. And he, alone on the end of the bench, and quite pale, began to be +affected by it, gazing now at one and now at another with beseeching +eyes, that they might leave him in peace. But the others mocked him +worse than ever, and he began to tremble and to turn crimson with rage. +All at once, Franti, the boy with the repulsive face, sprang upon a +bench, and pretending that he was carrying a basket on each arm, he aped +the mother of Crossi, when she used to come to wait for her son at the +door; for she is ill now. Many began to laugh loudly. Then Crossi lost +his head, and seizing an inkstand, he hurled it at the other's head with +all his strength; but Franti dodged, and the inkstand struck the master, +who entered at the moment, full in the breast. + +All flew to their places, and became silent with terror. + +The master, quite pale, went to his table, and said in a constrained +voice:-- + +"Who did it?" + +No one replied. + +The master cried out once more, raising his voice still louder, "Who is +it?" + +Then Garrone, moved to pity for poor Crossi, rose abruptly and said, +resolutely, "It was I." + +The master looked at him, looked at the stupefied scholars; then said in +a tranquil voice, "It was not you." + +And, after a moment: "The culprit shall not be punished. Let him rise!" + +Crossi rose and said, weeping, "They were striking me and insulting me, +and I lost my head, and threw it." + +"Sit down," said the master. "Let those who provoked him rise." + +Four rose, and hung their heads. + +"You," said the master, "have insulted a companion who had given you no +provocation; you have scoffed at an unfortunate lad, you have struck a +weak person who could not defend himself. You have committed one of the +basest, the most shameful acts with which a human creature can stain +himself. Cowards!" + +Having said this, he came down among the benches, put his hand under +Garrone's chin, as the latter stood with drooping head, and having made +him raise it, he looked him straight in the eye, and said to him, "You +are a noble soul." + +Garrone profited by the occasion to murmur some words, I know not what, +in the ear of the master; and he, turning towards the four culprits, +said, abruptly, "I forgive you." + + +MY SCHOOLMISTRESS OF THE UPPER FIRST. + + Thursday, 27th. + +My schoolmistress has kept her promise which she made, and came to-day +just as I was on the point of going out with my mother to carry some +linen to a poor woman recommended by the _Gazette_. It was a year since +I had seen her in our house. We all made a great deal of her. She is +just the same as ever, a little thing, with a green veil wound about her +bonnet, carelessly dressed, and with untidy hair, because she has not +time to keep herself nice; but with a little less color than last year, +with some white hairs, and a constant cough. My mother said to her:-- + +"And your health, my dear mistress? You do not take sufficient care of +yourself!" + +"It does not matter," the other replied, with her smile, at once +cheerful and melancholy. + +"You speak too loud," my mother added; "you exert yourself too much with +your boys." + +That is true; her voice is always to be heard; I remember how it was +when I went to school to her; she talked and talked all the time, so +that the boys might not divert their attention, and she did not remain +seated a moment. I felt quite sure that she would come, because she +never forgets her pupils; she remembers their names for years; on the +days of the monthly examination, she runs to ask the director what marks +they have won; she waits for them at the entrance, and makes them show +her their compositions, in order that she may see what progress they +have made; and many still come from the gymnasium to see her, who +already wear long trousers and a watch. To-day she had come back in a +great state of excitement, from the picture-gallery, whither she had +taken her boys, just as she had conducted them all to a museum every +Thursday in years gone by, and explained everything to them. The poor +mistress has grown still thinner than of old. But she is always brisk, +and always becomes animated when she speaks of her school. She wanted to +have a peep at the bed on which she had seen me lying very ill two years +ago, and which is now occupied by my brother; she gazed at it for a +while, and could not speak. She was obliged to go away soon to visit a +boy belonging to her class, the son of a saddler, who is ill with the +measles; and she had besides a package of sheets to correct, a whole +evening's work, and she has still a private lesson in arithmetic to give +to the mistress of a shop before nightfall. + +"Well, Enrico," she said to me as she was going, "are you still fond of +your schoolmistress, now that you solve difficult problems and write +long compositions?" She kissed me, and called up once more from the foot +of the stairs: "You are not to forget me, you know, Enrico!" Oh, my kind +teacher, never, never will I forget thee! Even when I grow up I will +remember thee and will go to seek thee among thy boys; and every time +that I pass near a school and hear the voice of a schoolmistress, I +shall think that I hear thy voice, and I shall recall the two years that +I passed in thy school, where I learned so many things, where I so often +saw thee ill and weary, but always earnest, always indulgent, in despair +when any one acquired a bad trick in the writing-fingers, trembling when +the examiners interrogated us, happy when we made a good appearance, +always kind and loving as a mother. Never, never shall I forget thee, my +teacher! + + +IN AN ATTIC. + + Friday, 28th. + +Yesterday afternoon I went with my mother and my sister Sylvia, to carry +the linen to the poor woman recommended by the newspaper: I carried the +bundle; Sylvia had the paper with the initials of the name and the +address. We climbed to the very roof of a tall house, to a long corridor +with many doors. My mother knocked at the last; it was opened by a woman +who was still young, blond and thin, and it instantly struck me that I +had seen her many times before, with that very same blue kerchief that +she wore on her head. + +"Are you the person of whom the newspaper says so and so?" asked my +mother. + +"Yes, signora, I am." + +"Well, we have brought you a little linen." Then the woman began to +thank us and bless us, and could not make enough of it. Meanwhile I +espied in one corner of the bare, dark room, a boy kneeling in front of +a chair, with his back turned towards us, who appeared to be writing; +and he really was writing, with his paper on the chair and his inkstand +on the floor. How did he manage to write thus in the dark? While I was +saying this to myself, I suddenly recognized the red hair and the coarse +jacket of Crossi, the son of the vegetable-pedler, the boy with the +useless arm. I told my mother softly, while the woman was putting away +the things. + +"Hush!" replied my mother; "perhaps he will feel ashamed to see you +giving alms to his mother: don't speak to him." + +But at that moment Crossi turned round; I was embarrassed; he smiled, +and then my mother gave me a push, so that I should run to him and +embrace him. I did embrace him: he rose and took me by the hand. + +"Here I am," his mother was saying in the meantime to my mother, "alone +with this boy, my husband in America these seven years, and I sick in +addition, so that I can no longer make my rounds with my vegetables, and +earn a few cents. We have not even a table left for my poor Luigino to +do his work on. When there was a bench down at the door, he could, at +least, write on the bench; but that has been taken away. He has not even +a little light so that he can study without ruining his eyes. And it is +a mercy that I can send him to school, since the city provides him with +books and copy-books. Poor Luigino, who would be so glad to study! +Unhappy woman, that I am!" + +My mother gave her all that she had in her purse, kissed the boy, and +almost wept as we went out. And she had good cause to say to me: "Look +at that poor boy; see how he is forced to work, when you have every +comfort, and yet study seems hard to you! Ah! Enrico, there is more +merit in the work which he does in one day, than in your work for a +year. It is to such that the first prizes should be given!" + + +THE SCHOOL. + + Friday, 28th. + + Yes, study comes hard to you, my dear Enrico, as your mother says: + I do not yet see you set out for school with that resolute mind and + that smiling face which I should like. You are still intractable. + But listen; reflect a little! What a miserable, despicable thing + your day would be if you did not go to school! At the end of a week + you would beg with clasped hands that you might return there, for + you would be eaten up with weariness and shame; disgusted with your + sports and with your existence. Everybody, everybody studies now, + my child. Think of the workmen who go to school in the evening + after having toiled all the day; think of the women, of the girls + of the people, who go to school on Sunday, after having worked all + the week; of the soldiers who turn to their books and copy-books + when they return exhausted from their drill! Think of the dumb and + of the boys who are blind, but who study, nevertheless; and last of + all, think of the prisoners, who also learn to read and write. + Reflect in the morning, when you set out, that at that very moment, + in your own city, thirty thousand other boys are going like + yourself, to shut themselves up in a room for three hours and + study. Think of the innumerable boys who, at nearly this precise + hour, are going to school in all countries. Behold them with your + imagination, going, going, through the lanes of quiet villages; + through the streets of the noisy towns, along the shores of rivers + and lakes; here beneath a burning sun; there amid fogs, in boats, + in countries which are intersected with canals; on horseback on the + far-reaching plains; in sledges over the snow; through valleys and + over hills; across forests and torrents, over the solitary paths of + mountains; alone, in couples, in groups, in long files, all with + their books under their arms, clad in a thousand ways, speaking a + thousand tongues, from the most remote schools in Russia. Almost + lost in the ice to the furthermost schools of Arabia, shaded by + palm-trees, millions and millions, all going to learn the same + things, in a hundred varied forms. Imagine this vast, vast throng + of boys of a hundred races, this immense movement of which you form + a part, and think, if this movement were to cease, humanity would + fall back into barbarism; this movement is the progress, the hope, + the glory of the world. Courage, then, little soldier of the + immense army. Your books are your arms, your class is your + squadron, the field of battle is the whole earth, and the victory + is human civilization. Be not a cowardly soldier, my Enrico. + + THY FATHER. + + +THE LITTLE PATRIOT OF PADUA. + +(_The Monthly Story._) + + Saturday, 29th. + +I will not be a _cowardly soldier_, no; but I should be much more +willing to go to school if the master would tell us a story every day, +like the one he told us this morning. "Every month," said he, "I shall +tell you one; I shall give it to you in writing, and it will always be +the tale of a fine and noble deed performed by a boy. This one is +called _The Little Patriot of Padua_. Here it is. A French steamer set +out from Barcelona, a city in Spain, for Genoa; there were on board +Frenchmen, Italians, Spaniards, and Swiss. Among the rest was a lad of +eleven, poorly clad, and alone, who always held himself aloof, like a +wild animal, and stared at all with gloomy eyes. He had good reasons for +looking at every one with forbidding eyes. Two years previous to this +time his parents, peasants in the neighborhood of Padua, had sold him to +a company of mountebanks, who, after they had taught him how to perform +tricks, by dint of blows and kicks and starving, had carried him all +over France and Spain, beating him continually and never giving him +enough to eat. On his arrival in Barcelona, being no longer able to +endure ill treatment and hunger, and being reduced to a pitiable +condition, he had fled from his slave-master and had betaken himself for +protection to the Italian consul, who, moved with compassion, had placed +him on board of this steamer, and had given him a letter to the +treasurer of Genoa, who was to send the boy back to his parents--to the +parents who had sold him like a beast. The poor lad was lacerated and +weak. He had been assigned to the second-class cabin. Every one stared +at him; some questioned him, but he made no reply, and seemed to hate +and despise every one, to such an extent had privation and affliction +saddened and irritated him. Nevertheless, three travellers, by dint of +persisting in their questions, succeeded in making him unloose his +tongue; and in a few rough words, a mixture of Venetian, French, and +Spanish, he related his story. These three travellers were not Italians, +but they understood him; and partly out of compassion, partly because +they were excited with wine, they gave him soldi, jesting with him and +urging him on to tell them other things; and as several ladies entered +the saloon at the moment, they gave him some more money for the purpose +of making a show, and cried: 'Take this! Take this, too!' as they made +the money rattle on the table. + +"The boy pocketed it all, thanking them in a low voice, with his surly +mien, but with a look that was for the first time smiling and +affectionate. Then he climbed into his berth, drew the curtain, and lay +quiet, thinking over his affairs. With this money he would be able to +purchase some good food on board, after having suffered for lack of +bread for two years; he could buy a jacket as soon as he landed in +Genoa, after having gone about clad in rags for two years; and he could +also, by carrying it home, insure for himself from his father and mother +a more humane reception than would have fallen to his lot if he had +arrived with empty pockets. This money was a little fortune for him; and +he was taking comfort out of this thought behind the curtain of his +berth, while the three travellers chatted away, as they sat round the +dining-table in the second-class saloon. They were drinking and +discussing their travels and the countries which they had seen; and from +one topic to another they began to discuss Italy. One of them began to +complain of the inns, another of the railways, and then, growing warmer, +they all began to speak evil of everything. One would have preferred a +trip in Lapland; another declared that he had found nothing but +swindlers and brigands in Italy; the third said that Italian officials +do not know how to read. + +"'It's an ignorant nation,' repeated the first. 'A filthy nation,' added +the second. 'Ro--' exclaimed the third, meaning to say 'robbers'; but +he was not allowed to finish the word: a tempest of soldi and half-lire +descended upon their heads and shoulders, and leaped upon the table and +the floor with a demoniacal noise. All three sprang up in a rage, looked +up, and received another handful of coppers in their faces. + +"'Take back your soldi!' said the lad, disdainfully, thrusting his head +between the curtains of his berth; 'I do not accept alms from those who +insult my country.'" + + +THE CHIMNEY-SWEEP. + + November 1st. + +Yesterday afternoon I went to the girls' school building, near ours, to +give the story of the boy from Padua to Silvia's teacher, who wished to +read it. There are seven hundred girls there. Just as I arrived, they +began to come out, all greatly rejoiced at the holiday of All Saints and +All Souls; and here is a beautiful thing that I saw: Opposite the door +of the school, on the other side of the street, stood a very small +chimney-sweep, his face entirely black, with his sack and scraper, with +one arm resting against the wall, and his head supported on his arm, +weeping copiously and sobbing. Two or three of the girls of the second +grade approached him and said, "What is the matter, that you weep like +this?" But he made no reply, and went on crying. + +"Come, tell us what is the matter with you and why you are crying," the +girls repeated. And then he raised his face from his arm,--a baby +face,--and said through his tears that he had been to several houses to +sweep the chimneys, and had earned thirty soldi, and that he had lost +them, that they had slipped through a hole in his pocket,--and he showed +the hole,--and he did not dare to return home without the money. + +"The master will beat me," he said, sobbing; and again dropped his head +upon his arm, like one in despair. The children stood and stared at him +very seriously. In the meantime, other girls, large and small, poor +girls and girls of the upper classes, with their portfolios under their +arms, had come up; and one large girl, who had a blue feather in her +hat, pulled two soldi from her pocket, and said:-- + +"I have only two soldi; let us make a collection." + +"I have two soldi, also," said another girl, dressed in red; "we shall +certainly find thirty soldi among the whole of us"; and then they began +to call out:-- + +"Amalia! Luigia! Annina!--A soldo. Who has any soldi? Bring your soldi +here!" + +Several had soldi to buy flowers or copy-books, and they brought them; +some of the smaller girls gave centesimi; the one with the blue feather +collected all, and counted them in a loud voice:-- + +"Eight, ten, fifteen!" But more was needed. Then one larger than any of +them, who seemed to be an assistant mistress, made her appearance, and +gave half a lira; and all made much of her. Five soldi were still +lacking. + +"The girls of the fourth class are coming; they will have it," said one +girl. The members of the fourth class came, and the soldi showered down. +All hurried forward eagerly; and it was beautiful to see that poor +chimney-sweep in the midst of all those many-colored dresses, of all +that whirl of feathers, ribbons, and curls. The thirty soldi were +already obtained, and more kept pouring in; and the very smallest who +had no money made their way among the big girls, and offered their +bunches of flowers, for the sake of giving something. All at once the +portress made her appearance, screaming:-- + +"The Signora Directress!" The girls made their escape in all directions, +like a flock of sparrows; and then the little chimney-sweep was visible, +alone, in the middle of the street, wiping his eyes in perfect content, +with his hands full of money, and the button-holes of his jacket, his +pockets, his hat, were full of flowers; and there were even flowers on +the ground at his feet. + + +THE DAY OF THE DEAD. + +(_All-Souls-Day._) + + November 2d. + + This day is consecrated to the commemoration of the dead. Do you + know, Enrico, that all you boys should, on this day, devote a + thought to those who are dead? To those who have died for you,--for + boys and little children. How many have died, and how many are + dying continually! Have you ever reflected how many fathers have + worn out their lives in toil? how many mothers have descended to + the grave before their time, exhausted by the privations to which + they have condemned themselves for the sake of sustaining their + children? Do you know how many men have planted a knife in their + hearts in despair at beholding their children in misery? how many + women have drowned themselves or have died of sorrow, or have gone + mad, through having lost a child? Think of all these dead on this + day, Enrico. Think of how many schoolmistresses have died young, + have pined away through the fatigues of the school, through love of + the children, from whom they had not the heart to tear + themselves away; think of the doctors who have perished of + contagious diseases, having courageously sacrificed themselves to + cure the children; think of all those who in shipwrecks, in + conflagrations, in famines, in moments of supreme danger, have + yielded to infancy the last morsel of bread, the last place of + safety, the last rope of escape from the flames, to expire content + with their sacrifice, since they preserved the life of a little + innocent. Such dead as these are innumerable, Enrico; every + graveyard contains hundreds of these sainted beings, who, if they + could rise for a moment from their graves, would cry the name of a + child to whom they sacrificed the pleasures of youth, the peace of + old age, their affections, their intelligence, their life: wives of + twenty, men in the flower of their strength, octogenarians, + youths,--heroic and obscure martyrs of infancy,--so grand and so + noble, that the earth does not produce as many flowers as should + strew their graves. To such a degree are ye loved, O children! + Think to-day on those dead with gratitude, and you will be kinder + and more affectionate to all those who love you, and who toil for + you, my dear, fortunate son, who, on the day of the dead, have, as + yet, no one to grieve for. + + THY MOTHER. + + + + + [Illustration: THE CHARCOAL MAN AND THE GENTLEMAN.--Page 27.] + + + + +NOVEMBER. + + +MY FRIEND GARRONE. + + Friday, 4th. + +THERE had been but two days of vacation, yet it seemed to me as though I +had been a long time without seeing Garrone. The more I know him, the +better I like him; and so it is with all the rest, except with the +overbearing, who have nothing to say to him, because he does not permit +them to exhibit their oppression. Every time that a big boy raises his +hand against a little one, the little one shouts, "Garrone!" and the big +one stops striking him. His father is an engine-driver on the railway; +he has begun school late, because he was ill for two years. He is the +tallest and the strongest of the class; he lifts a bench with one hand; +he is always eating; and he is good. Whatever he is asked for,--a +pencil, rubber, paper, or penknife,--he lends or gives it; and he +neither talks nor laughs in school: he always sits perfectly motionless +on a bench that is too narrow for him, with his spine curved forward, +and his big head between his shoulders; and when I look at him, he +smiles at me with his eyes half closed, as much as to say, "Well, +Enrico, are we friends?" He makes me laugh, because, tall and broad as +he is, he has a jacket, trousers, and sleeves which are too small for +him, and too short; a cap which will not stay on his head; a threadbare +cloak; coarse shoes; and a necktie which is always twisted into a cord. +Dear Garrone! it needs but one glance in thy face to inspire love for +thee. All the little boys would like to be near his bench. He knows +arithmetic well. He carries his books bound together with a strap of red +leather. He has a knife, with a mother-of-pearl handle, which he found +in the field for military manoeuvres, last year, and one day he cut his +finger to the bone; but no one in school envies him it, and no one +breathes a word about it at home, for fear of alarming his parents. He +lets us say anything to him in jest, and he never takes it ill; but woe +to any one who says to him, "That is not true," when he affirms a thing: +then fire flashes from his eyes, and he hammers down blows enough to +split the bench. Saturday morning he gave a soldo to one of the upper +first class, who was crying in the middle of the street, because his own +had been taken from him, and he could not buy his copy-book. For the +last three days he has been working over a letter of eight pages, with +pen ornaments on the margins, for the saint's day of his mother, who +often comes to get him, and who, like himself, is tall and large and +sympathetic. The master is always glancing at him, and every time that +he passes near him he taps him on the neck with his hand, as though he +were a good, peaceable young bull. I am very fond of him. I am happy +when I press his big hand, which seems to be the hand of a man, in mine. +I am almost certain that he would risk his life to save that of a +comrade; that he would allow himself to be killed in his defence, so +clearly can I read his eyes; and although he always seems to be +grumbling with that big voice of his, one feels that it is a voice that +comes from a gentle heart. + + +THE CHARCOAL-MAN AND THE GENTLEMAN. + + Monday, 7th. + +Garrone would certainly never have uttered the words which Carlo Nobis +spoke yesterday morning to Betti. Carlo Nobis is proud, because his +father is a great gentleman; a tall gentleman, with a black beard, and +very serious, who accompanies his son to school nearly every day. +Yesterday morning Nobis quarrelled with Betti, one of the smallest boys, +and the son of a charcoal-man, and not knowing what retort to make, +because he was in the wrong, said to him vehemently, "Your father is a +tattered beggar!" Betti reddened up to his very hair, and said nothing, +but the tears came to his eyes; and when he returned home, he repeated +the words to his father; so the charcoal-dealer, a little man, who was +black all over, made his appearance at the afternoon session, leading +his boy by the hand, in order to complain to the master. While he was +making his complaint, and every one was silent, the father of Nobis, who +was taking off his son's coat at the entrance, as usual, entered on +hearing his name pronounced, and demanded an explanation. + +"This workman has come," said the master, "to complain that your son +Carlo said to his boy, 'Your father is a tattered beggar.'" + +Nobis's father frowned and reddened slightly. Then he asked his son, +"Did you say that?" + +His son, who was standing in the middle of the school, with his head +hanging, in front of little Betti, made no reply. + +Then his father grasped him by one arm and pushed him forward, facing +Betti, so that they nearly touched, and said to him, "Beg his pardon." + +The charcoal-man tried to interpose, saying, "No, no!" but the gentleman +paid no heed to him, and repeated to his son, "Beg his pardon. Repeat my +words. 'I beg your pardon for the insulting, foolish, and ignoble words +which I uttered against your father, whose hand my father would feel +himself honored to press.'" + +The charcoal-man made a resolute gesture, as though to say, "I will not +allow it." The gentleman did not second him, and his son said slowly, in +a very thread of a voice, without raising his eyes from the ground, "I +beg your pardon--for the insulting--foolish--ignoble--words which I +uttered against your father, whose hand my father--would feel himself +honored--to press." + +Then the gentleman offered his hand to the charcoal-man, who shook it +vigorously, and then, with a sudden push, he thrust his son into the +arms of Carlo Nobis. + +"Do me the favor to place them next each other," said the gentleman to +the master. The master put Betti on Nobis's bench. When they were +seated, the father of Nobis bowed and went away. + +The charcoal-man remained standing there in thought for several moments, +gazing at the two boys side by side; then he approached the bench, and +fixed upon Nobis a look expressive of affection and regret, as though he +were desirous of saying something to him, but he did not say anything; +he stretched out his hand to bestow a caress upon him, but he did not +dare, and merely stroked his brow with his large fingers. Then he made +his way to the door, and turning round for one last look, he +disappeared. + +"Fix what you have just seen firmly in your minds, boys," said the +master; "this is the finest lesson of the year." + + +MY BROTHER'S SCHOOLMISTRESS. + + Thursday, 10th. + +The son of the charcoal-man had been a pupil of that schoolmistress +Delcati who had come to see my brother when he was ill, and who had made +us laugh by telling us how, two years ago, the mother of this boy had +brought to her house a big apronful of charcoal, out of gratitude for +her having given the medal to her son; and the poor woman had persisted, +and had not been willing to carry the coal home again, and had wept when +she was obliged to go away with her apron quite full. And she told us, +also, of another good woman, who had brought her a very heavy bunch of +flowers, inside of which there was a little hoard of soldi. We had been +greatly diverted in listening to her, and so my brother had swallowed +his medicine, which he had not been willing to do before. How much +patience is necessary with those boys of the lower first, all toothless, +like old men, who cannot pronounce their r's and s's; and one coughs, +and another has the nosebleed, and another loses his shoes under the +bench, and another bellows because he has pricked himself with his pen, +and another one cries because he has bought copy-book No. 2 instead of +No. 1. Fifty in a class, who know nothing, with those flabby little +hands, and all of them must be taught to write; they carry in their +pockets bits of licorice, buttons, phial corks, pounded brick,--all +sorts of little things, and the teacher has to search them; but they +conceal these objects even in their shoes. And they are not attentive: a +fly enters through the window, and throws them all into confusion; and +in summer they bring grass into school, and horn-bugs, which fly round +in circles or fall into the inkstand, and then streak the copy-books all +over with ink. The schoolmistress has to play mother to all of them, to +help them dress themselves, bandage up their pricked fingers, pick up +their caps when they drop them, watch to see that they do not exchange +coats, and that they do not indulge in cat-calls and shrieks. Poor +schoolmistresses! And then the mothers come to complain: "How comes it, +signorina, that my boy has lost his pen? How does it happen that mine +learns nothing? Why is not my boy mentioned honorably, when he knows so +much? Why don't you have that nail which tore my Piero's trousers, taken +out of the bench?" + +Sometimes my brother's teacher gets into a rage with the boys; and when +she can resist no longer, she bites her finger, to keep herself from +dealing a blow; she loses patience, and then she repents, and caresses +the child whom she has scolded; she sends a little rogue out of school, +and then swallows her tears, and flies into a rage with parents who make +the little ones fast by way of punishment. Schoolmistress Delcati is +young and tall, well-dressed, brown of complexion, and restless; she +does everything vivaciously, as though on springs, is affected by a mere +trifle, and at such times speaks with great tenderness. + +"But the children become attached to you, surely," my mother said to +her. + +"Many do," she replied; "but at the end of the year the majority of them +pay no further heed to us. When they are with the masters, they are +almost ashamed of having been with us--with a woman teacher. After two +years of cares, after having loved a child so much, it makes us feel sad +to part from him; but we say to ourselves, 'Oh, I am sure of that one; +he is fond of me.' But the vacation over, he comes back to school. I run +to meet him; 'Oh, my child, my child!' And he turns his head away." Here +the teacher interrupted herself. "But you will not do so, little one?" +she said, raising her humid eyes, and kissing my brother. "You will not +turn aside your head, will you? You will not deny your poor friend?" + + +MY MOTHER. + + Thursday, November 10th. + + In the presence of your brother's teacher you failed in respect to + your mother! Let this never happen again, my Enrico, never again! + Your irreverent word pierced my heart like a point of steel. I + thought of your mother when, years ago, she bent the whole of one + night over your little bed, measuring your breathing, weeping blood + in her anguish, and with her teeth chattering with terror, because + she thought that she had lost you, and I feared that she would lose + her reason; and at this thought I felt a sentiment of horror at + you. You, to offend your mother! your mother, who would give a year + of happiness to spare you one hour of pain, who would beg for you, + who would allow herself to be killed to save your life! Listen, + Enrico. Fix this thought well in your mind. Reflect that you are + destined to experience many terrible days in the course of your + life: the most terrible will be that on which you lose your mother. + A thousand times, Enrico, after you are a man, strong, and inured + to all fates, you will invoke her, oppressed with an intense desire + to hear her voice, if but for a moment, and to see once more her + open arms, into which you can throw yourself sobbing, like a poor + child bereft of comfort and protection. How you will then recall + every bitterness that you have caused her, and with what remorse + you will pay for all, unhappy wretch! Hope for no peace in your + life, if you have caused your mother grief. You will repent, you + will beg her forgiveness, you will venerate her memory--in vain; + conscience will give you no rest; that sweet and gentle image will + always wear for you an expression of sadness and of reproach which + will put your soul to torture. Oh, Enrico, beware; this is the most + sacred of human affections; unhappy he who tramples it under foot. + The assassin who respects his mother has still something honest and + noble in his heart; the most glorious of men who grieves and + offends her is but a vile creature. Never again let a harsh word + issue from your lips, for the being who gave you life. And if one + should ever escape you, let it not be the fear of your father, but + let it be the impulse of your soul, which casts you at her feet, to + beseech her that she will cancel from your brow, with the kiss of + forgiveness, the stain of ingratitude. I love you, my son; you are + the dearest hope of my life; but I would rather see you dead than + ungrateful to your mother. Go away, for a little space; offer me no + more of your caresses; I should not be able to return them from my + heart. + + THY FATHER. + + +MY COMPANION CORETTI. + + Sunday, 13th. + +My father forgave me; but I remained rather sad and then my mother sent +me, with the porter's big son, to take a walk on the Corso. Half-way +down the Corso, as we were passing a cart which was standing in front of +a shop, I heard some one call me by name: I turned round; it was +Coretti, my schoolmate, with chocolate-colored clothes and his catskin +cap, all in a perspiration, but merry, with a big load of wood on his +shoulders. A man who was standing in the cart was handing him an armful +of wood at a time, which he took and carried into his father's shop, +where he piled it up in the greatest haste. + +"What are you doing, Coretti?" I asked him. + +"Don't you see?" he answered, reaching out his arms to receive the load; +"I am reviewing my lesson." + +I laughed; but he seemed to be serious, and, having grasped the armful +of wood, he began to repeat as he ran, "_The conjugation of the +verb--consists in its variations according to number--according to +number and person--_" + +And then, throwing down the wood and piling it, "_according to the +time--according to the time to which the action refers._" + +And turning to the cart for another armful, "_according to the mode in +which the action is enunciated._" + +It was our grammar lesson for the following day. "What would you have me +do?" he said. "I am putting my time to use. My father has gone off with +the man on business; my mother is ill. It falls to me to do the +unloading. In the meantime, I am going over my grammar lesson. It is a +difficult lesson to-day; I cannot succeed in getting it into my +head.--My father said that he would be here at seven o'clock to give you +your money," he said to the man with the cart. + +The cart drove off. "Come into the shop a minute," Coretti said to me. I +went in. It was a large apartment, full of piles of wood and fagots, +with a steelyard on one side. + +"This is a busy day, I can assure you," resumed Coretti; "I have to do +my work by fits and starts. I was writing my phrases, when some +customers came in. I went to writing again, and behold, that cart +arrived. I have already made two trips to the wood market in the Piazza +Venezia this morning. My legs are so tired that I cannot stand, and my +hands are all swollen. I should be in a pretty pickle if I had to draw!" +And as he spoke he set about sweeping up the dry leaves and the straw +which covered the brick-paved floor. + +"But where do you do your work, Coretti?" I inquired. + +"Not here, certainly," he replied. "Come and see"; and he led me into a +little room behind the shop, which serves as a kitchen and dining-room, +with a table in one corner, on which there were books and copy-books, +and work which had been begun. "Here it is," he said; "I left the second +answer unfinished: _with which shoes are made, and belts_. Now I will +add, _and valises_." And, taking his pen, he began to write in his fine +hand. + +"Is there any one here?" sounded a call from the shop at that moment. It +was a woman who had come to buy some little fagots. + +"Here I am!" replied Coretti; and he sprang out, weighed the fagots, +took the money, ran to a corner to enter the sale in a shabby old +account-book, and returned to his work, saying, "Let's see if I can +finish that sentence." And he wrote, _travelling-bags, and knapsacks for +soldiers_. "Oh, my poor coffee is boiling over!" he exclaimed, and ran +to the stove to take the coffee-pot from the fire. "It is coffee for +mamma," he said; "I had to learn how to make it. Wait a while, and we +will carry it to her; you'll see what pleasure it will give her. She has +been in bed a whole week.--Conjugation of the verb! I always scald my +fingers with this coffee-pot. What is there that I can add after the +soldiers' knapsacks? Something more is needed, and I can think of +nothing. Come to mamma." + +He opened a door, and we entered another small room: there Coretti's +mother lay in a big bed, with a white kerchief wound round her head. + +"Ah, brave little master!" said the woman to me; "you have come to visit +the sick, have you not?" + +Meanwhile, Coretti was arranging the pillows behind his mother's back, +readjusting the bedclothes, brightening up the fire, and driving the cat +off the chest of drawers. + +"Do you want anything else, mamma?" he asked, as he took the cup from +her. "Have you taken the two spoonfuls of syrup? When it is all gone, I +will make a trip to the apothecary's. The wood is unloaded. At four +o'clock I will put the meat on the stove, as you told me; and when the +butter-woman passes, I will give her those eight soldi. Everything will +go on well; so don't give it a thought." + +"Thanks, my son!" replied the woman. "Go, my poor boy!--he thinks of +everything." + +She insisted that I should take a lump of sugar; and then Coretti showed +me a little picture,--the photograph portrait of his father dressed as a +soldier, with the medal for bravery which he had won in 1866, in the +troop of Prince Umberto: he had the same face as his son, with the same +vivacious eyes and his merry smile. + +We went back to the kitchen. "I have found the thing," said Coretti; and +he added on his copy-book, _horse-trappings are also made of it_. "The +rest I will do this evening; I shall sit up later. How happy you are, to +have time to study and to go to walk, too!" And still gay and active, he +re-entered the shop, and began to place pieces of wood on the horse and +to saw them, saying: "This is gymnastics; it is quite different from +the _throw your arms forwards_. I want my father to find all this wood +sawed when he gets home; how glad he will be! The worst part of it is +that after sawing I make T's and L's which look like snakes, so the +teacher says. What am I to do? I will tell him that I have to move my +arms about. The important thing is to have mamma get well quickly. She +is better to-day, thank Heaven! I will study my grammar to-morrow +morning at cock-crow. Oh, here's the cart with logs! To work!" + +A small cart laden with logs halted in front of the shop. Coretti ran +out to speak to the man, then returned: "I cannot keep your company any +longer now," he said; "farewell until to-morrow. You did right to come +and hunt me up. A pleasant walk to you! happy fellow!" + +And pressing my hand, he ran to take the first log, and began once more +to trot back and forth between the cart and the shop, with a face as +fresh as a rose beneath his catskin cap, and so alert that it was a +pleasure to see him. + +"Happy fellow!" he had said to me. Ah, no, Coretti, no; you are the +happier, because you study and work too; because you are of use to your +father and your mother; because you are better--a hundred times +better--and more courageous than I, my dear schoolmate. + + +THE HEAD-MASTER. + + Friday, 18th. + +Coretti was pleased this morning, because his master of the second +class, Coatti, a big man, with a huge head of curly hair, a great black +beard, big dark eyes, and a voice like a cannon, had come to assist in +the work of the monthly examination. He is always threatening the boys +that he will break them in pieces and carry them by the nape of the neck +to the quæstor, and he makes all sorts of frightful faces; but he never +punishes any one, but always smiles the while behind his beard, so that +no one can see it. There are eight masters in all, including Coatti, and +a little, beardless assistant, who looks like a boy. There is one master +of the fourth class, who is lame and always wrapped up in a big woollen +scarf, and who is always suffering from pains which he contracted when +he was a teacher in the country, in a damp school, where the walls were +dripping with moisture. Another of the teachers of the fourth is old and +perfectly white-haired, and has been a teacher of the blind. There is +one well-dressed master, with eye-glasses, and a blond mustache, who is +called the _little lawyer_, because, while he was teaching, he studied +law and took his diploma; and he is also making a book to teach how to +write letters. On the other hand, the one who teaches gymnastics is of a +soldierly type, and was with Garibaldi, and has on his neck a scar from +a sabre wound received at the battle of Milazzo. Then there is the +head-master, who is tall and bald, and wears gold spectacles, with a +gray beard that flows down upon his breast; he dresses entirely in +black, and is always buttoned up to the chin. He is so kind to the boys, +that when they enter the director's room, all in a tremble, because they +have been summoned to receive a reproof, he does not scold them, but +takes them by the hand, and tells them so many reasons why they ought +not to behave so, and why they should be sorry, and promise to be good, +and he speaks in such a kind manner, and in so gentle a voice, that they +all come out with red eyes, more confused than if they had been +punished. Poor head-master! he is always the first at his post in the +morning, waiting for the scholars and lending an ear to the parents; and +when the other masters are already on their way home, he is still +hovering about the school, and looking out that the boys do not get +under the carriage-wheels, or hang about the streets to stand on their +heads, or fill their bags with sand or stones; and the moment he makes +his appearance at a corner, so tall and black, flocks of boys scamper +off in all directions, abandoning their games of coppers and marbles, +and he threatens them from afar with his forefinger, with his sad and +loving air. No one has ever seen him smile, my mother says, since the +death of his son, who was a volunteer in the army: he always keeps the +latter's portrait before his eyes, on a little table in the +head-master's room. He wanted to go away after this misfortune; he +prepared his application for retirement to the Municipal Council, and +kept it always on his table, putting off sending it from day to day, +because it grieved him to leave the boys. But the other day he seemed +undecided; and my father, who was in the director's room with him, was +just saying to him, "What a shame it is that you are going away, Signor +Director!" when a man entered for the purpose of inscribing the name of +a boy who was to be transferred from another schoolhouse to ours, +because he had changed his residence. At the sight of this boy, the +head-master made a gesture of astonishment, gazed at him for a while, +gazed at the portrait that he keeps on his little table, and then stared +at the boy again, as he drew him between his knees, and made him hold up +his head. This boy resembled his dead son. The head-master said, "It is +all right," wrote down his name, dismissed the father and son, and +remained absorbed in thought. "What a pity that you are going away!" +repeated my father. And then the head-master took up his application for +retirement, tore it in two, and said, "I shall remain." + + +THE SOLDIERS. + + Tuesday, 22d. + +His son had been a volunteer in the army when he died: this is the +reason why the head-master always goes to the Corso to see the soldiers +pass, when we come out of school. Yesterday a regiment of infantry was +passing, and fifty boys began to dance around the band, singing and +beating time with their rulers on their bags and portfolios. We were +standing in a group on the sidewalk, watching them: Garrone, squeezed +into his clothes, which were too tight for him, was biting at a large +piece of bread; Votini, the well-dressed boy, who always wears Florence +plush; Precossi, the son of the blacksmith, with his father's jacket; +and the Calabrian; and the "little mason"; and Crossi, with his red +head; and Franti, with his bold face; and Robetti, too, the son of the +artillery captain, the boy who saved the child from the omnibus, and who +now walks on crutches. Franti burst into a derisive laugh, in the face +of a soldier who was limping. But all at once he felt a man's hand on +his shoulder: he turned round; it was the head-master. "Take care," said +the master to him; "jeering at a soldier when he is in the ranks, when +he can neither avenge himself nor reply, is like insulting a man who is +bound: it is baseness." + +Franti disappeared. The soldiers were marching by fours, all perspiring +and covered with dust, and their guns were gleaming in the sun. The +head-master said:-- + +"You ought to feel kindly towards soldiers, boys. They are our +defenders, who would go to be killed for our sakes, if a foreign army +were to menace our country to-morrow. They are boys too; they are not +many years older than you; and they, too, go to school; and there are +poor men and gentlemen among them, just as there are among you, and they +come from every part of Italy. See if you cannot recognize them by their +faces; Sicilians are passing, and Sardinians, and Neapolitans, and +Lombards. This is an old regiment, one of those which fought in 1848. +They are not the same soldiers, but the flag is still the same. How many +have already died for our country around that banner twenty years before +you were born!" + +"Here it is!" said Garrone. And in fact, not far off, the flag was +visible, advancing, above the heads of the soldiers. + +"Do one thing, my sons," said the head-master; "make your scholar's +salute, with your hand to your brow, when the tricolor passes." + +The flag, borne by an officer, passed before us, all tattered and faded, +and with the medals attached to the staff. We put our hands to our +foreheads, all together. The officer looked at us with a smile, and +returned our salute with his hand. + +"Bravi, boys!" said some one behind us. We turned to look; it was an old +man who wore in his button-hole the blue ribbon of the Crimean +campaign--a pensioned officer. "Bravi!" he said; "you have done a fine +deed." + +In the meantime, the band of the regiment had made a turn at the end of +the Corso, surrounded by a throng of boys, and a hundred merry shouts +accompanied the blasts of the trumpets, like a war-song. + +"Bravi!" repeated the old officer, as he gazed upon us; "he who respects +the flag when he is little will know how to defend it when he is grown +up." + + +NELLI'S PROTECTOR. + + Wednesday, 23d. + +Nelli, too, poor little hunchback! was looking at the soldiers +yesterday, but with an air as though he were thinking, "I can never be a +soldier!" He is good, and he studies; but he is so puny and wan, and he +breathes with difficulty. He always wears a long apron of shining black +cloth. His mother is a little blond woman who dresses in black, and +always comes to get him at the end of school, so that he may not come +out in the confusion with the others, and she caresses him. At first +many of the boys ridiculed him, and thumped him on the back with their +bags, because he is so unfortunate as to be a hunchback; but he never +offered any resistance, and never said anything to his mother, in order +not to give her the pain of knowing that her son was the laughing-stock +of his companions: they derided him, and he held his peace and wept, +with his head laid against the bench. + +But one morning Garrone jumped up and said, "The first person who +touches Nelli will get such a box on the ear from me that he will spin +round three times!" + +Franti paid no attention to him; the box on the ear was delivered: the +fellow spun round three times, and from that time forth no one ever +touched Nelli again. The master placed Garrone near him, on the same +bench. They have become friends. Nelli has grown very fond of Garrone. +As soon as he enters the schoolroom he looks to see if Garrone is there. +He never goes away without saying, "Good by, Garrone," and Garrone does +the same with him. + +When Nelli drops a pen or a book under the bench, Garrone stoops +quickly, to prevent his stooping and tiring himself, and hands him his +book or his pen, and then he helps him to put his things in his bag and +to twist himself into his coat. For this Nelli loves him, and gazes at +him constantly; and when the master praises Garrone he is pleased, as +though he had been praised himself. Nelli must at last have told his +mother all about the ridicule of the early days, and what they made him +suffer; and about the comrade who defended him, and how he had grown +fond of the latter; for this is what happened this morning. The master +had sent me to carry to the director, half an hour before the close of +school, a programme of the lesson, and I entered the office at the same +moment with a small blond woman dressed in black, the mother of Nelli, +who said, "Signor Director, is there in the class with my son a boy +named Garrone?" + +"Yes," replied the head-master. + +"Will you have the goodness to let him come here for a moment, as I have +a word to say to him?" + +The head-master called the beadle and sent him to the school, and after +a minute Garrone appeared on the threshold, with his big, close-cropped +head, in perfect amazement. No sooner did she catch sight of him than +the woman flew to meet him, threw her arms on his shoulders, and kissed +him a great many times on the head, saying:-- + +"You are Garrone, the friend of my little son, the protector of my poor +child; it is you, my dear, brave boy; it is you!" Then she searched +hastily in all her pockets, and in her purse, and finding nothing, she +detached a chain from her neck, with a small cross, and put it on +Garrone's neck, underneath his necktie, and said to him:-- + +"Take it! wear it in memory of me, my dear boy; in memory of Nelli's +mother, who thanks and blesses you." + + +THE HEAD OF THE CLASS. + + Friday, 25th. + +Garrone attracts the love of all; Derossi, the admiration. He has taken +the first medal; he will always be the first, and this year also; no one +can compete with him; all recognize his superiority in all points. He is +the first in arithmetic, in grammar, in composition, in drawing; he +understands everything on the instant; he has a marvellous memory; he +succeeds in everything without effort; it seems as though study were +play to him. The teacher said to him yesterday:-- + +"You have received great gifts from God; all you have to do is not to +squander them." He is, moreover, tall and handsome, with a great crown +of golden curls; he is so nimble that he can leap over a bench by +resting one hand on it; and he already understands fencing. He is twelve +years old, and the son of a merchant; he is always dressed in blue, with +gilt buttons; he is always lively, merry, gracious to all, and helps all +he can in examinations; and no one has ever dared to do anything +disagreeable to him, or to say a rough word to him. Nobis and Franti +alone look askance at him, and Votini darts envy from his eyes; but he +does not even perceive it. All smile at him, and take his hand or his +arm, when he goes about, in his graceful way, to collect the work. He +gives away illustrated papers, drawings, everything that is given him at +home; he has made a little geographical chart of Calabria for the +Calabrian lad; and he gives everything with a smile, without paying any +heed to it, like a grand gentleman, and without favoritism for any one. +It is impossible not to envy him, not to feel smaller than he in +everything. Ah! I, too, envy him, like Votini. And I feel a bitterness, +almost a certain scorn, for him, sometimes, when I am striving to +accomplish my work at home, and think that he has already finished his, +at this same moment, extremely well, and without fatigue. But then, when +I return to school, and behold him so handsome, so smiling and +triumphant, and hear how frankly and confidently he replies to the +master's questions, and how courteous he is, and how the others all like +him, then all bitterness, all scorn, departs from my heart, and I am +ashamed of having experienced these sentiments. I should like to be +always near him at such times; I should like to be able to do all my +school tasks with him: his presence, his voice, inspire me with courage, +with a will to work, with cheerfulness and pleasure. + +The teacher has given him the monthly story, which will be read +to-morrow, to copy,--_The Little Vidette of Lombardy_. He copied it this +morning, and was so much affected by that heroic deed, that his face was +all aflame, his eyes humid, and his lips trembling; and I gazed at him: +how handsome and noble he was! With what pleasure would I not have said +frankly to his face: "Derossi, you are worth more than I in everything! +You are a man in comparison with me! I respect you and I admire you!" + + +THE LITTLE VIDETTE OF LOMBARDY. + +(_Monthly Story._) + + Saturday, 26th. + +In 1859, during the war for the liberation of Lombardy, a few days after +the battle of Solfarino and San Martino, won by the French and Italians +over the Austrians, on a beautiful morning in the month of June, a +little band of cavalry of Saluzzo was proceeding at a slow pace along a +retired path, in the direction of the enemy, and exploring the country +attentively. The troop was commanded by an officer and a sergeant, and +all were gazing into the distance ahead of them, with eyes fixed, +silent, and prepared at any moment to see the uniforms of the enemy's +advance-posts gleam white before them through the trees. In this order +they arrived at a rustic cabin, surrounded by ash-trees, in front of +which stood a solitary boy, about twelve years old, who was removing the +bark from a small branch with a knife, in order to make himself a stick +of it. From one window of the little house floated a large tricolored +flag; there was no one inside: the peasants had fled, after hanging out +the flag, for fear of the Austrians. As soon as the lad saw the cavalry, +he flung aside his stick and raised his cap. He was a handsome boy, with +a bold face and large blue eyes and long golden hair: he was in his +shirt-sleeves and his breast was bare. + +"What are you doing here?" the officer asked him, reining in his horse. +"Why did you not flee with your family?" + +"I have no family," replied the boy. "I am a foundling. I do a little +work for everybody. I remained here to see the war." + +"Have you seen any Austrians pass?" + +"No; not for these three days." + +The officer paused a while in thought; then he leaped from his horse, +and leaving his soldiers there, with their faces turned towards the foe, +he entered the house and mounted to the roof. The house was low; from +the roof only a small tract of country was visible. "It will be +necessary to climb the trees," said the officer, and descended. Just in +front of the garden plot rose a very lofty and slender ash-tree, which +was rocking its crest in the azure. The officer stood a brief space in +thought, gazing now at the tree, and again at the soldiers; then, all of +a sudden, he asked the lad:-- + +"Is your sight good, you monkey?" + +"Mine?" replied the boy. "I can spy a young sparrow a mile away." + +"Are you good for a climb to the top of this tree?" + +"To the top of this tree? I? I'll be up there in half a minute." + +"And will you be able to tell me what you see up there--if there are +Austrian soldiers in that direction, clouds of dust, gleaming guns, +horses?" + +"Certainly I shall." + +"What do you demand for this service?" + +"What do I demand?" said the lad, smiling. "Nothing. A fine thing, +indeed! And then--if it were for the _Germans_, I wouldn't do it on any +terms; but for our men! I am a Lombard!" + +"Good! Then up with you." + +"Wait a moment, until I take off my shoes." + +He pulled off his shoes, tightened the girth of his trousers, flung his +cap on the grass, and clasped the trunk of the ash. + +"Take care, now!" exclaimed the officer, making a movement to hold him +back, as though seized with a sudden terror. + +The boy turned to look at him, with his handsome blue eyes, as though +interrogating him. + +"No matter," said the officer; "up with you." + +Up went the lad like a cat. + +"Keep watch ahead!" shouted the officer to the soldiers. + +In a few moments the boy was at the top of the tree, twined around the +trunk, with his legs among the leaves, but his body displayed to view, +and the sun beating down on his blond head, which seemed to be of gold. +The officer could hardly see him, so small did he seem up there. + +"Look straight ahead and far away!" shouted the officer. + +The lad, in order to see better, removed his right hand from the tree, +and shaded his eyes with it. + +"What do you see?" asked the officer. + +The boy inclined his head towards him, and making a speaking-trumpet of +his hand, replied, "Two men on horseback, on the white road." + +"At what distance from here?" + +"Half a mile." + +"Are they moving?" + +"They are standing still." + +"What else do you see?" asked the officer, after a momentary silence. +"Look to the right." The boy looked to the right. + +Then he said: "Near the cemetery, among the trees, there is something +glittering. It seems to be bayonets." + +"Do you see men?" + +"No. They must be concealed in the grain." + +At that moment a sharp whiz of a bullet passed high up in the air, and +died away in the distance, behind the house. + +"Come down, my lad!" shouted the officer. "They have seen you. I don't +want anything more. Come down." + +"I'm not afraid," replied the boy. + +"Come down!" repeated the officer. "What else do you see to the left?" + +"To the left?" + +"Yes, to the left." + +The lad turned his head to the left: at that moment, another whistle, +more acute and lower than the first, cut the air. The boy was thoroughly +aroused. "Deuce take them!" he exclaimed. "They actually are aiming at +me!" The bullet had passed at a short distance from him. + +"Down!" shouted the officer, imperious and irritated. + +"I'll come down presently," replied the boy. "But the tree shelters me. +Don't fear. You want to know what there is on the left?" + +"Yes, on the left," answered the officer; "but come down." + +"On the left," shouted the lad, thrusting his body out in that +direction, "yonder, where there is a chapel, I think I see--" + +A third fierce whistle passed through the air, and almost +instantaneously the boy was seen to descend, catching for a moment at +the trunk and branches, and then falling headlong with arms outspread. + +"Curse it!" exclaimed the officer, running up. + +The boy landed on the ground, upon his back, and remained stretched out +there, with arms outspread and supine; a stream of blood flowed from his +breast, on the left. The sergeant and two soldiers leaped from their +horses; the officer bent over and opened his shirt: the ball had entered +his left lung. "He is dead!" exclaimed the officer. + +"No, he still lives!" replied the sergeant.--"Ah, poor boy! brave boy!" +cried the officer. "Courage, courage!" But while he was saying +"courage," he was pressing his handkerchief on the wound. The boy rolled +his eyes wildly and dropped his head back. He was dead. The officer +turned pale and stood for a moment gazing at him; then he laid him down +carefully on his cloak upon the grass; then rose and stood looking at +him; the sergeant and two soldiers also stood motionless, gazing upon +him: the rest were facing in the direction of the enemy. + +"Poor boy!" repeated the officer. "Poor, brave boy!" + +Then he approached the house, removed the tricolor from the window, and +spread it in guise of a funeral pall over the little dead boy, leaving +his face uncovered. The sergeant collected the dead boy's shoes, cap, +his little stick, and his knife, and placed them beside him. + +They stood for a few moments longer in silence; then the officer turned +to the sergeant and said to him, "We will send the ambulance for him: he +died as a soldier; the soldiers shall bury him." Having said this, he +wafted a kiss with his hand to the dead boy, and shouted "To horse!" +All sprang into the saddle, the troop drew together and resumed its +road. + +And a few hours later the little dead boy received the honors of war. + +At sunset the whole line of the Italian advance-posts marched forward +towards the foe, and along the same road which had been traversed in the +morning by the detachment of cavalry, there proceeded, in two files, a +heavy battalion of sharpshooters, who, a few days before, had valiantly +watered the hill of San Martino with blood. The news of the boy's death +had already spread among the soldiers before they left the encampment. +The path, flanked by a rivulet, ran a few paces distant from the house. +When the first officers of the battalion caught sight of the little body +stretched at the foot of the ash-tree and covered with the tricolored +banner, they made the salute to it with their swords, and one of them +bent over the bank of the streamlet, which was covered with flowers at +that spot, plucked a couple of blossoms and threw them on it. Then all +the sharpshooters, as they passed, plucked flowers and threw them on the +body. In a few minutes the boy was covered with flowers, and officers +and soldiers all saluted him as they passed by: "Bravo, little Lombard!" +"Farewell, my lad!" "I salute thee, gold locks!" "Hurrah!" "Glory!" +"Farewell!" One officer tossed him his medal for valor; another went and +kissed his brow. And flowers continued to rain down on his bare feet, on +his blood-stained breast, on his golden head. And there he lay asleep on +the grass, enveloped in his flag, with a white and almost smiling face, +poor boy! as though he heard these salutes and was glad that he had +given his life for his Lombardy. + + +THE POOR. + + Tuesday, 29th. + + To give one's life for one's country as the Lombard boy did, is a + great virtue; but you must not neglect the lesser virtues, my son. + This morning as you walked in front of me, when we were returning + from school, you passed near a poor woman who was holding between + her knees a thin, pale child, and who asked alms of you. You looked + at her and gave her nothing, and yet you had some coppers in your + pocket. Listen, my son. Do not accustom yourself to pass + indifferently before misery which stretches out its hand to you and + far less before a mother who asks a copper for her child. Reflect + that the child may be hungry; think of the agony of that poor + woman. Picture to yourself the sob of despair of your mother, if + she were some day forced to say, "Enrico, I cannot give you any + bread even to-day!" When I give a soldo to a beggar, and he says to + me, "God preserve your health, and the health of all belonging to + you!" you cannot understand the sweetness which these words produce + in my heart, the gratitude that I feel for that poor man. It seems + to me certain that such a good wish must keep one in good health + for a long time, and I return home content, and think, "Oh, that + poor man has returned to me very much more than I gave him!" Well, + let me sometimes feel that good wish called forth, merited by you; + draw a soldo from your little purse now and then, and let it fall + into the hand of a blind man without means of subsistence, of a + mother without bread, of a child without a mother. The poor love + the alms of boys, because it does not humiliate them, and because + boys, who stand in need of everything, resemble themselves: you see + that there are always poor people around the schoolhouses. The alms + of a man is an act of charity; but that of a child is at one and + the same time an act of charity and a caress--do you understand? It + is as though a soldo and a flower fell from your hand together. + Reflect that you lack nothing, and that they lack everything, that + while you aspire to be happy, they are content simply with not + dying. Reflect, that it is a horror, in the midst of so many + palaces, along the streets thronged with carriages, and children + clad in velvet, that there should be women and children who have + nothing to eat. To have nothing to eat! O God! Boys like you, as + good as you, as intelligent as you, who, in the midst of a great + city, have nothing to eat, like wild beasts lost in a desert! Oh, + never again, Enrico, pass a mother who is begging, without placing + a soldo in her hand! + + THY FATHER. + + + + +DECEMBER. + + +THE TRADER. + + Thursday, 1st. + +MY father wishes me to have some one of my companions come to the house +every holiday, or that I should go to see one of them, in order that I +may gradually become friends with all of them. Sunday I shall go to walk +with Votini, the well-dressed boy who is always polishing himself up, +and who is so envious of Derossi. In the meantime, Garoffi came to the +house to-day,--that long, lank boy, with the nose like an owl's beak, +and small, knavish eyes, which seem to be ferreting everywhere. He is +the son of a grocer; he is an eccentric fellow; he is always counting +the soldi that he has in his pocket; he reckons them on his fingers +very, very rapidly, and goes through some process of multiplication +without any tables; and he hoards his money, and already has a book in +the Scholars' Savings Bank. He never spends a soldo, I am positive; and +if he drops a centesimo under the benches, he is capable of hunting for +it for a week. He does as magpies do, so Derossi says. Everything that +he finds--worn-out pens, postage-stamps that have been used, pins, +candle-ends--he picks up. He has been collecting postage-stamps for more +than two years now; and he already has hundreds of them from every +country, in a large album, which he will sell to a bookseller later on, +when he has got it quite full. Meanwhile, the bookseller gives him his +copy-books gratis, because he takes a great many boys to the shop. In +school, he is always bartering; he effects sales of little articles +every day, and lotteries and exchanges; then he regrets the exchange, +and wants his stuff back; he buys for two and gets rid of it for four; +he plays at pitch-penny, and never loses; he sells old newspapers over +again to the tobacconist; and he keeps a little blank-book, in which he +sets down his transactions, which is completely filled with sums and +subtractions. At school he studies nothing but arithmetic; and if he +desires the medal, it is only that he may have a free entrance into the +puppet-show. But he pleases me; he amuses me. We played at keeping a +market, with weights and scales. He knows the exact price of everything; +he understands weighing, and makes handsome paper horns, like +shopkeepers, with great expedition. He declares that as soon as he has +finished school he shall set up in business--in a new business which he +has invented himself. He was very much pleased when I gave him some +foreign postage-stamps; and he informed me exactly how each one sold for +collections. My father pretended to be reading the newspaper; but he +listened to him, and was greatly diverted. His pockets are bulging, full +of his little wares; and he covers them up with a long black cloak, and +always appears thoughtful and preoccupied with business, like a +merchant. But the thing that he has nearest his heart is his collection +of postage-stamps. This is his treasure; and he always speaks of it as +though he were going to get a fortune out of it. His companions accuse +him of miserliness and usury. I do not know: I like him; he teaches me +a great many things; he seems a man to me. Coretti, the son of the +wood-merchant, says that he would not give him his postage-stamps to +save his mother's life. My father does not believe it. + +"Wait a little before you condemn him," he said to me; "he has this +passion, but he has heart as well." + + +VANITY. + + Monday, 5th. + +Yesterday I went to take a walk along the Rivoli road with Votini and +his father. As we were passing through the Via Dora Grossa we saw +Stardi, the boy who kicks disturbers, standing stiffly in front of the +window of a book-shop, with his eyes fixed on a geographical map; and no +one knows how long he had been there, because he studies even in the +street. He barely returned our salute, the rude fellow! Votini was well +dressed--even too much so. He had on morocco boots embroidered in red, +an embroidered coat, small silken frogs, a white beaver hat, and a +watch; and he strutted. But his vanity was destined to come to a bad end +on this occasion. After having run a tolerably long distance up the +Rivoli road, leaving his father, who was walking slowly, a long way in +the rear, we halted at a stone seat, beside a modestly clad boy, who +appeared to be weary, and was meditating, with drooping head. A man, who +must have been his father, was walking to and fro under the trees, +reading the newspaper. We sat down. Votini placed himself between me and +the boy. All at once he recollected that he was well dressed, and wanted +to make his neighbor admire and envy him. + + [Illustration: "STOP THAT, YOU LITTLE RASCALS!"--Page 60.] + +He lifted one foot, and said to me, "Have you seen my officer's boots?" +He said this in order to make the other boy look at them; but the latter +paid no attention to them. + +Then he dropped his foot, and showed me his silk frogs, glancing askance +at the boy the while, and said that these frogs did not please him, and +that he wanted to have them changed to silver buttons; but the boy did +not look at the frogs either. + +Then Votini fell to twirling his very handsome white castor hat on the +tip of his forefinger; but the boy--and it seemed as though he did it on +purpose--did not deign even a glance at the hat. + +Votini, who began to become irritated, drew out his watch, opened it, +and showed me the wheels; but the boy did not turn his head. "Is it of +silver gilt?" I asked him. + +"No," he replied; "it is gold." + +"But not entirely of gold," I said; "there must be some silver with it." + +"Why, no!" he retorted; and, in order to compel the boy to look, he held +the watch before his face, and said to him, "Say, look here! isn't it +true that it is entirely of gold?" + +The boy replied curtly, "I don't know." + +"Oh! oh!" exclaimed Votini, full of wrath, "what pride!" + +As he was saying this, his father came up, and heard him; he looked +steadily at the lad for a moment, then said sharply to his son, "Hold +your tongue!" and, bending down to his ear, he added, "he is blind!" + +Votini sprang to his feet, with a shudder, and stared the boy in the +face: the latter's eyeballs were glassy, without expression, without +sight. + +Votini stood humbled,--speechless,--with his eyes fixed on the ground. +At length he stammered, "I am sorry; I did not know." + +But the blind boy, who had understood it all, said, with a kind and +melancholy smile, "Oh, it's no matter!" + +Well, he is vain; but Votini has not at all a bad heart. He never +laughed again during the whole of the walk. + + +THE FIRST SNOW-STORM. + + Saturday, 10th. + +Farewell, walks to Rivoli! Here is the beautiful friend of the boys! +Here is the first snow! Ever since yesterday evening it has been falling +in thick flakes as large as gillyflowers. It was a pleasure this morning +at school to see it beat against the panes and pile up on the +window-sills; even the master watched it, and rubbed his hands; and all +were glad, when they thought of making snowballs, and of the ice which +will come later, and of the hearth at home. Stardi, entirely absorbed in +his lessons, and with his fists pressed to his temples, was the only one +who paid no attention to it. What beauty, what a celebration there was +when we left school! All danced down the streets, shouting and tossing +their arms, catching up handfuls of snow, and dashing about in it, like +poodles in water. The umbrellas of the parents, who were waiting for +them outside, were all white; the policeman's helmet was white; all our +satchels were white in a few moments. Every one appeared to be beside +himself with joy--even Precossi, the son of the blacksmith, that pale +boy who never laughs; and Robetti, the lad who saved the little child +from the omnibus, poor fellow! he jumped about on his crutches. The +Calabrian, who had never touched snow, made himself a little ball of it, +and began to eat it, as though it had been a peach; Crossi, the son of +the vegetable-vendor, filled his satchel with it; and the little mason +made us burst with laughter, when my father invited him to come to our +house to-morrow. He had his mouth full of snow, and, not daring either +to spit it out or to swallow it, he stood there choking and staring at +us, and made no answer. Even the schoolmistress came out of school on a +run, laughing; and my mistress of the first upper class, poor little +thing! ran through the drizzling snow, covering her face with her green +veil, and coughing; and meanwhile, hundreds of girls from the +neighboring schoolhouse passed by, screaming and frolicking on that +white carpet; and the masters and the beadles and the policemen shouted, +"Home! home!" swallowing flakes of snow, and whitening their moustaches +and beards. But they, too, laughed at this wild hilarity of the +scholars, as they celebrated the winter. + + You hail the arrival of winter; but there are boys who have neither + clothes nor shoes nor fire. There are thousands of them, who + descend to their villages, over a long road, carrying in hands + bleeding from chilblains a bit of wood to warm the schoolroom. + There are hundreds of schools almost buried in the snow, bare and + dismal as caves, where the boys suffocate with smoke or chatter + their teeth with cold as they gaze in terror at the white flakes + which descend unceasingly, which pile up without cessation on their + distant cabins threatened by avalanches. You rejoice in the winter, + boys. Think of the thousands of creatures to whom winter brings + misery and death. + + THY FATHER. + + +THE LITTLE MASON. + + Sunday, 11th. + +The little mason came to-day, in a hunting-jacket, entirely dressed in +the cast-off clothes of his father, which were still white with lime and +plaster. My father was even more anxious than I that he should come. How +much pleasure he gives us! No sooner had he entered than he pulled off +his ragged cap, which was all soaked with snow, and thrust it into one +of his pockets; then he advanced with his listless gait, like a weary +workman, turning his face, as smooth as an apple, with its ball-like +nose, from side to side; and when he entered the dining-room, he cast a +glance round at the furniture and fixed his eyes on a small picture of +Rigoletto, a hunchbacked jester, and made a "hare's face." + +It is impossible to refrain from laughing when one sees him make that +hare's face. We went to playing with bits of wood: he possesses an +extraordinary skill at making towers and bridges, which seem to stand as +though by a miracle, and he works at it quite seriously, with the +patience of a man. Between one tower and another he told me about his +family: they live in a garret; his father goes to the evening school to +learn to read, and his mother is a washerwoman. And they must love him, +of course, for he is clad like a poor boy, but he is well protected from +the cold, with neatly mended clothes, and with his necktie nicely tied +by his mother's hands. His father, he told me, is a fine man,--a giant, +who has trouble in getting through doors, but he is kind, and always +calls his son "hare's face": the son, on the contrary, is rather small. + +At four o'clock we lunched on bread and goat's-milk cheese, as we sat on +the sofa; and when we rose, I do not know why, but my father did not +wish me to brush off the back, which the little mason had spotted with +white, from his jacket: he restrained my hand, and then rubbed it off +himself on the sly. While we were playing, the little mason lost a +button from his hunting-jacket, and my mother sewed it on, and he grew +quite red, and began to watch her sew, in perfect amazement and +confusion, holding his breath the while. Then we gave him some albums of +caricatures to look at, and he, without being aware of it himself, +imitated the grimaces of the faces there so well, that even my father +laughed. He was so much pleased when he went away that he forgot to put +on his tattered cap; and when we reached the landing, he made a hare's +face at me once more in sign of his gratitude. His name is Antonio +Rabucco, and he is eight years and eight months old. + + Do you know, my son, why I did not wish you to wipe off the sofa? + Because to wipe it while your companion was looking on would have + been almost the same as administering a reproof to him for having + soiled it. And this was not well, in the first place, because he + did not do it intentionally, and in the next, because he did it + with the clothes of his father, who had covered them with plaster + while at work; and what is contracted while at work is not dirt; it + is dust, lime, varnish, whatever you like, but it is not dirt. + Labor does not engender dirt. Never say of a laborer coming from + his work, "He is filthy." You should say, "He has on his garments + the signs, the traces, of his toil." Remember this. And you must + love the little mason, first, because he is your comrade; and next, + because he is the son of a workingman. + + THY FATHER. + + +A SNOWBALL. + + Friday, 16th. + +It is still snow, snow. A shameful thing happened in connection with the +snow this morning when we came out of school. A flock of boys had no +sooner got into the Corso than they began to throw balls of that watery +snow which makes missiles as solid and heavy as stones. Many persons +were passing along the sidewalks. A gentleman called out, "Stop that, +you little rascals!" and just at that moment a sharp cry rose from +another part of the street, and we saw an old man who had lost his hat +and was staggering about, covering his face with his hands, and beside +him a boy who was shouting, "Help! help!" + +People instantly ran from all directions. He had been struck in the eye +with a ball. All the boys dispersed, fleeing like arrows. I was standing +in front of the bookseller's shop, into which my father had gone, and I +saw several of my companions approaching at a run, mingling with others +near me, and pretending to be engaged in staring at the windows: there +was Garrone, with his penny roll in his pocket, as usual; Coretti, the +little mason; and Garoffi, the boy with the postage-stamps. In the +meantime a crowd had formed around the old man, and a policeman and +others were running to and fro, threatening and demanding: "Who was it? +Who did it? Was it you? Tell me who did it!" and they looked at the +boys' hands to see whether they were wet with snow. + +Garoffi was standing beside me. I perceived that he was trembling all +over, and that his face was as white as that of a corpse. "Who was it? +Who did it?" the crowd continued to cry. + +Then I overheard Garrone say in a low voice to Garoffi, "Come, go and +present yourself; it would be cowardly to allow any one else to be +arrested." + +"But I did not do it on purpose," replied Garoffi, trembling like a +leaf. + +"No matter; do your duty," repeated Garrone. + +"But I have not the courage." + +"Take courage, then; I will accompany you." + +And the policeman and the other people were crying more loudly than +ever: "Who was it? Who did it? One of his glasses has been driven into +his eye! He has been blinded! The ruffians!" + +I thought that Garoffi would fall to the earth. "Come," said Garrone, +resolutely, "I will defend you;" and grasping him by the arm, he thrust +him forward, supporting him as though he had been a sick man. The people +saw, and instantly understood, and several persons ran up with their +fists raised; but Garrone thrust himself between, crying:-- + +"Do ten men of you set on one boy?" + +Then they ceased, and a policeman seized Garoffi by the hand and led +him, pushing aside the crowd as he went, to a pastry-cook's shop, where +the wounded man had been carried. On catching sight of him, I suddenly +recognized him as the old employee who lives on the fourth floor of our +house with his grandnephew. He was stretched out on a chair, with a +handkerchief over his eyes. + +"I did not do it intentionally!" sobbed Garoffi, half dead with terror; +"I did not do it intentionally!" + +Two or three persons thrust him violently into the shop, crying, "Your +face to the earth! Beg his pardon!" and they threw him to the ground. +But all at once two vigorous arms set him on his feet again, and a +resolute voice said:-- + +"No, gentlemen!" It was our head-master, who had seen it all. "Since he +has had the courage to present himself," he added, "no one has the right +to humiliate him." All stood silent. "Ask his forgiveness," said the +head-master to Garoffi. Garoffi, bursting into tears, embraced the old +man's knees, and the latter, having felt for the boy's head with his +hand, caressed his hair. Then all said:-- + +"Go away, boy! go, return home." + +And my father drew me out of the crowd, and said to me as we passed +along the street, "Enrico, would you have had the courage, under similar +circumstances, to do your duty,--to go and confess your fault?" + +I told him that I should. And he said, "Give me your word, as a lad of +heart and honor, that you would do it." "I give thee my word, father +mine!" + + +THE MISTRESSES. + + Saturday, 17th. + +Garoffi was thoroughly terrified to-day, in the expectation of a severe +punishment from the teacher; but the master did not make his appearance; +and as the assistant was also missing, Signora Cromi, the oldest of the +schoolmistresses, came to teach the school; she has two grown-up +children, and she has taught several women to read and write, who now +come to accompany their sons to the Baretti schoolhouse. + +She was sad to-day, because one of her sons is ill. No sooner had they +caught sight of her, than they began to make an uproar. But she said, in +a slow and tranquil tone, "Respect my white hair; I am not only a +school-teacher, I am also a mother"; and then no one dared to speak +again, in spite of that brazen face of Franti, who contented himself +with jeering at her on the sly. + +Signora Delcati, my brother's teacher, was sent to take charge of +Signora Cromi's class, and to Signora Delcati's was sent the teacher who +is called "the little nun," because she always dresses in dark colors, +with a black apron, and has a small white face, hair that is always +smooth, very bright eyes, and a delicate voice, that seems to be forever +murmuring prayers. And it is incomprehensible, my mother says; she is so +gentle and timid, with that thread of a voice, which is always even, +which is hardly audible, and she never speaks loud nor flies into a +passion; but, nevertheless, she keeps the boys so quiet that you cannot +hear them, and the most roguish bow their heads when she merely +admonishes them with her finger, and her school seems like a church; and +it is for this reason, also, that she is called "the little nun." + +But there is another one who pleases me,--the young mistress of the +first lower, No. 3, that young girl with the rosy face, who has two +pretty dimples in her cheeks, and who wears a large red feather on her +little bonnet, and a small cross of yellow glass on her neck. She is +always cheerful, and keeps her class cheerful; she is always calling out +with that silvery voice of hers, which makes her seem to be singing, and +tapping her little rod on the table, and clapping her hands to impose +silence; then, when they come out of school, she runs after one and +another like a child, to bring them back into line: she pulls up the +cape of one, and buttons the coat of another, so that they may not take +cold; she follows them even into the street, in order that they may not +fall to quarrelling; she beseeches the parents not to whip them at home; +she brings lozenges to those who have coughs; she lends her muff to +those who are cold; and she is continually tormented by the smallest +children, who caress her and demand kisses, and pull at her veil and her +mantle; but she lets them do it, and kisses them all with a smile, and +returns home all rumpled and with her throat all bare, panting and +happy, with her beautiful dimples and her red feather. She is also the +girls' drawing-teacher, and she supports her mother and a brother by her +own labor. + + +IN THE HOUSE OF THE WOUNDED MAN. + + Sunday, 18th. + +The grandnephew of the old employee who was struck in the eye by +Garoffi's snowball is with the schoolmistress who has the red feather: +we saw him to-day in the house of his uncle, who treats him like a son. +I had finished writing out the monthly story for the coming week,--_The +Little Florentine Scribe_,--which the master had given to me to copy; +and my father said to me:-- + +"Let us go up to the fourth floor, and see how that old gentleman's eye +is." + +We entered a room which was almost dark, where the old man was sitting +up in bed, with a great many pillows behind his shoulders; by the +bedside sat his wife, and in one corner his nephew was amusing himself. +The old man's eye was bandaged. He was very glad to see my father; he +made us sit down, and said that he was better, that his eye was not only +not ruined, but that he should be quite well again in a few days. + +"It was an accident," he added. "I regret the terror which it must have +caused that poor boy." Then he talked to us about the doctor, whom he +expected every moment to attend him. Just then the door-bell rang. + +"There is the doctor," said his wife. + +The door opened--and whom did I see? Garoffi, in his long cloak, +standing, with bowed head, on the threshold, and without the courage to +enter. + +"Who is it?" asked the sick man. + +"It is the boy who threw the snowball," said my father. And then the old +man said:-- + +"Oh, my poor boy! come here; you have come to inquire after the wounded +man, have you not? But he is better; be at ease; he is better and almost +well. Come here." + +Garoffi, who did not perceive us in his confusion, approached the bed, +forcing himself not to cry; and the old man caressed him, but could not +speak. + +"Thanks," said the old man; "go and tell your father and mother that all +is going well, and that they are not to think any more about it." + +But Garoffi did not move, and seemed to have something to say which he +dared not utter. + +"What have you to say to me? What is it that you want?" + +"I!--Nothing." + +"Well, good by, until we meet again, my boy; go with your heart in +peace." + +Garoffi went as far as the door; but there he halted, turned to the +nephew, who was following him, and gazed curiously at him. All at once +he pulled some object from beneath his cloak, put it in the boy's hand, +and whispered hastily to him, "It is for you," and away he went like a +flash. + +The boy carried the object to his uncle; we saw that on it was written, +_I give you this_; we looked inside, and uttered an exclamation of +surprise. It was the famous album, with his collection of +postage-stamps, which poor Garoffi had brought, the collection of which +he was always talking, upon which he had founded so many hopes, and +which had cost him so much trouble; it was his treasure, poor boy! it +was the half of his very blood, which he had presented in exchange for +his pardon. + + +THE LITTLE FLORENTINE SCRIBE. + +(_Monthly Story._) + +He was in the fourth elementary class. He was a graceful Florentine lad +of twelve, with black hair and a white face, the eldest son of an +employee on the railway, who, having a large family and but small pay, +lived in straitened circumstances. His father loved him and was +tolerably kind and indulgent to him--indulgent in everything except in +that which referred to school: on this point he required a great deal, +and showed himself severe, because his son was obliged to attain such a +rank as would enable him to soon obtain a place and help his family; and +in order to accomplish anything quickly, it was necessary that he should +work a great deal in a very short time. And although the lad studied, +his father was always exhorting him to study more. + +His father was advanced in years, and too much toil had aged him before +his time. Nevertheless, in order to provide for the necessities of his +family, in addition to the toil which his occupation imposed upon him, +he obtained special work here and there as a copyist, and passed a good +part of the night at his writing-table. Lately, he had undertaken, in +behalf of a house which published journals and books in parts, to write +upon the parcels the names and addresses of their subscribers, and he +earned three lire[1] for every five hundred of these paper wrappers, +written in large and regular characters. But this work wearied him, and +he often complained of it to his family at dinner. + + [1] Sixty cents. + +"My eyes are giving out," he said; "this night work is killing me." One +day his son said to him, "Let me work instead of you, papa; you know +that I can write like you, and fairly well." But the father answered:-- + +"No, my son, you must study; your school is a much more important thing +than my wrappers; I feel remorse at robbing you of a single hour; I +thank you, but I will not have it; do not mention it to me again." + +The son knew that it was useless to insist on such a matter with his +father, and he did not persist; but this is what he did. He knew that +exactly at midnight his father stopped writing, and quitted his workroom +to go to his bedroom; he had heard him several times: as soon as the +twelve strokes of the clock had sounded, he had heard the sound of a +chair drawn back, and the slow step of his father. One night he waited +until the latter was in bed, then dressed himself very, very softly, and +felt his way to the little workroom, lighted the petroleum lamp again, +seated himself at the writing-table, where lay a pile of white wrappers +and the list of addresses, and began to write, imitating exactly his +father's handwriting. And he wrote with a will, gladly, a little in +fear, and the wrappers piled up, and from time to time he dropped the +pen to rub his hands, and then began again with increased alacrity, +listening and smiling. He wrote a hundred and sixty--one lira! Then he +stopped, placed the pen where he had found it, extinguished the light, +and went back to bed on tiptoe. + +At noon that day his father sat down to the table in a good humor. He +had perceived nothing. He performed the work mechanically, measuring it +by the hour, and thinking of something else, and only counted the +wrappers he had written on the following day. He seated himself at the +table in a fine humor, and slapping his son on one shoulder, he said to +him:-- + +"Eh, Giulio! Your father is even a better workman than you thought. In +two hours I did a good third more work than usual last night. My hand is +still nimble, and my eyes still do their duty." And Giulio, silent but +content, said to himself, "Poor daddy, besides the money, I am giving +him some satisfaction in the thought that he has grown young again. +Well, courage!" + +Encouraged by these good results, when night came and twelve o'clock +struck, he rose once more, and set to work. And this he did for several +nights. And his father noticed nothing; only once, at supper, he uttered +this exclamation, "It is strange how much oil has been used in this +house lately!" This was a shock to Giulio; but the conversation ceased +there, and the nocturnal labor proceeded. + +However, by dint of thus breaking his sleep every night, Giulio did not +get sufficient rest: he rose in the morning fatigued, and when he was +doing his school work in the evening, he had difficulty in keeping his +eyes open. One evening, for the first time in his life, he fell asleep +over his copy-book. + +"Courage! courage!" cried his father, clapping his hands; "to work!" + +He shook himself and set to work again. But the next evening, and on the +days following, the same thing occurred, and worse: he dozed over his +books, he rose later than usual, he studied his lessons in a languid +way, he seemed disgusted with study. His father began to observe him, +then to reflect seriously, and at last to reprove him. He should never +have done it! + +"Giulio," he said to him one morning, "you put me quite beside myself; +you are no longer as you used to be. I don't like it. Take care; all the +hopes of your family rest on you. I am dissatisfied; do you understand?" + +At this reproof, the first severe one, in truth, which he had ever +received, the boy grew troubled. + +"Yes," he said to himself, "it is true; it cannot go on so; this deceit +must come to an end." + +But at dinner, on the evening of that very same day, his father said +with much cheerfulness, "Do you know that this month I have earned +thirty-two lire more at addressing those wrappers than last month!" and +so saying, he drew from under the table a paper package of sweets which +he had bought, that he might celebrate with his children this +extraordinary profit, and they all hailed it with clapping of hands. +Then Giulio took heart again, courage again, and said in his heart, "No, +poor papa, I will not cease to deceive you; I will make greater efforts +to work during the day, but I shall continue to work at night for you +and for the rest." And his father added, "Thirty-two lire more! I am +satisfied. But that boy there," pointing at Giulio, "is the one who +displeases me." And Giulio received the reprimand in silence, forcing +back two tears which tried to flow; but at the same time he felt a great +pleasure in his heart. + +And he continued to work by main force; but fatigue added to fatigue +rendered it ever more difficult for him to resist. Thus things went on +for two months. The father continued to reproach his son, and to gaze at +him with eyes which grew constantly more wrathful. One day he went to +make inquiries of the teacher, and the teacher said to him: "Yes, he +gets along, he gets along, because he is intelligent; but he no longer +has the good will which he had at first. He is drowsy, he yawns, his +mind is distracted. He writes short compositions, scribbled down in all +haste, in bad chirography. Oh, he could do a great deal, a great deal +more." + +That evening the father took the son aside, and spoke to him words which +were graver than any the latter had ever heard. "Giulio, you see how I +toil, how I am wearing out my life, for the family. You do not second my +efforts. You have no heart for me, nor for your brothers, nor for your +mother!" + +"Ah no! don't say that, father!" cried the son, bursting into tears, and +opening his mouth to confess all. But his father interrupted him, +saying:-- + +"You are aware of the condition of the family; you know that good will +and sacrifices on the part of all are necessary. I myself, as you see, +have had to double my work. I counted on a gift of a hundred lire from +the railway company this month, and this morning I have learned that I +shall receive nothing!" + +At this information, Giulio repressed the confession which was on the +point of escaping from his soul, and repeated resolutely to himself: +"No, papa, I shall tell you nothing; I shall guard my secret for the +sake of being able to work for you; I will recompense you in another way +for the sorrow which I occasion you; I will study enough at school to +win promotion; the important point is to help you to earn our living, +and to relieve you of the fatigue which is killing you." + +And so he went on, and two months more passed, of labor by night and +weakness by day, of desperate efforts on the part of the son, and of +bitter reproaches on the part of the father. But the worst of it was, +that the latter grew gradually colder towards the boy, only addressed +him rarely, as though he had been a recreant son, of whom there was +nothing any longer to be expected, and almost avoided meeting his +glance. And Giulio perceived this and suffered from it, and when his +father's back was turned, he threw him a furtive kiss, stretching forth +his face with a sentiment of sad and dutiful tenderness; and between +sorrow and fatigue, he grew thin and pale, and he was constrained to +still further neglect his studies. And he understood well that there +must be an end to it some day, and every evening he said to himself, "I +will not get up to-night"; but when the clock struck twelve, at the +moment when he should have vigorously reaffirmed his resolution, he felt +remorse: it seemed to him, that by remaining in bed he should be failing +in a duty, and robbing his father and the family of a lira. And he rose, +thinking that some night his father would wake up and discover him, or +that he would discover the deception by accident, by counting the +wrappers twice; and then all would come to a natural end, without any +act of his will, which he did not feel the courage to exert. And thus he +went on. + +But one evening at dinner his father spoke a word which was decisive so +far as he was concerned. His mother looked at him, and as it seemed to +her that he was more ill and weak than usual, she said to him, "Giulio, +you are ill." And then, turning to his father with anxiety: "Giulio is +ill. See how pale he is Giulio, my dear, how do you feel?" + +His father gave a hasty glance, and said: "It is his bad conscience that +produces his bad health. He was not thus when he was a studious scholar +and a loving son." + +"But he is ill!" exclaimed the mother. + +"I don't care anything about him any longer!" replied the father. + +This remark was like a stab in the heart to the poor boy. Ah! he cared +nothing any more. His father, who once trembled at the mere sound of a +cough from him! He no longer loved him; there was no longer any doubt; +he was dead in his father's heart. "Ah, no! my father," said the boy to +himself, his heart oppressed with anguish, "now all is over indeed; I +cannot live without your affection; I must have it all back. I will tell +you all; I will deceive you no longer. I will study as of old, come what +will, if you will only love me once more, my poor father! Oh, this time +I am quite sure of my resolution!" + +Nevertheless he rose that night again, by force of habit more than +anything else; and when he was once up, he wanted to go and salute and +see once more, for the last time, in the quiet of the night, that little +chamber where he toiled so much in secret with his heart full of +satisfaction and tenderness. And when he beheld again that little table +with the lamp lighted and those white wrappers on which he was never +more to write those names of towns and persons, which he had come to +know by heart, he was seized with a great sadness, and with an impetuous +movement he grasped the pen to recommence his accustomed toil. But in +reaching out his hand he struck a book, and the book fell. The blood +rushed to his heart. What if his father had waked! Certainly he would +not have discovered him in the commission of a bad deed: he had himself +decided to tell him all, and yet--the sound of that step approaching in +the darkness,--the discovery at that hour, in that silence,--his mother, +who would be awakened and alarmed,--and the thought, which had occurred +to him for the first time, that his father might feel humiliated in his +presence on thus discovering all;--all this terrified him almost. He +bent his ear, with suspended breath. He heard no sound. He laid his ear +to the lock of the door behind him--nothing. The whole house was asleep. +His father had not heard. He recovered his composure, and he set himself +again to his writing, and wrapper was piled on wrapper. He heard the +regular tread of the policeman below in the deserted street; then the +rumble of a carriage which gradually died away; then, after an interval, +the rattle of a file of carts, which passed slowly by; then a profound +silence, broken from time to time by the distant barking of a dog. And +he wrote on and on: and meanwhile his father was behind him. He had +risen on hearing the fall of the book, and had remained waiting for a +long time: the rattle of the carts had drowned the noise of his +footsteps and the creaking of the door-casing; and he was there, with +his white head bent over Giulio's little black head, and he had seen the +pen flying over the wrappers, and in an instant he had divined all, +remembered all, understood all, and a despairing penitence, but at the +same time an immense tenderness, had taken possession of his mind and +had held him nailed to the spot suffocating behind his child. Suddenly +Giulio uttered a piercing shriek: two arms had pressed his head +convulsively. + +"Oh, papa, papa! forgive me, forgive me!" he cried, recognizing his +parent by his weeping. + +"Do you forgive me!" replied his father, sobbing, and covering his brow +with kisses. "I have understood all, I know all; it is I, it is I who +ask your pardon, my blessed little creature; come, come with me!" and he +pushed or rather carried him to the bedside of his mother, who was +awake, and throwing him into her arms, he said:-- + +"Kiss this little angel of a son, who has not slept for three months, +but has been toiling for me, while I was saddening his heart, and he was +earning our bread!" The mother pressed him to her breast and held him +there, without the power to speak; at last she said: "Go to sleep at +once, my baby, go to sleep and rest.--Carry him to bed." + +The father took him from her arms, carried him to his room, and laid him +in his bed, still breathing hard and caressing him, and arranged his +pillows and coverlets for him. + +"Thanks, papa," the child kept repeating; "thanks; but go to bed +yourself now; I am content; go to bed, papa." + +But his father wanted to see him fall asleep; so he sat down beside the +bed, took his hand, and said to him, "Sleep, sleep, my little son!" and +Giulio, being weak, fell asleep at last, and slumbered many hours, +enjoying, for the first time in many months, a tranquil sleep, enlivened +by pleasant dreams; and as he opened his eyes, when the sun had already +been shining for a tolerably long time, he first felt, and then saw, +close to his breast, and resting upon the edge of the little bed, the +white head of his father, who had passed the night thus, and who was +still asleep, with his brow against his son's heart. + + +WILL. + + Wednesday, 28th. + +There is Stardi in my school, who would have the force to do what the +little Florentine did. This morning two events occurred at the school: +Garoffi, wild with delight, because his album had been returned to him, +with the addition of three postage-stamps of the Republic of Guatemala, +which he had been seeking for three months; and Stardi, who took the +second medal; Stardi the next in the class after Derossi! All were +amazed at it. Who could ever have foretold it, when, in October, his +father brought him to school bundled up in that big green coat, and said +to the master, in presence of every one:-- + +"You must have a great deal of patience with him, because he is very +hard of understanding!" + +Every one credited him with a wooden head from the very beginning. But +he said, "I will burst or I will succeed," and he set to work doggedly, +to studying day and night, at home, at school, while walking, with set +teeth and clenched fists, patient as an ox, obstinate as a mule; and +thus, by dint of trampling on every one, disregarding mockery, and +dealing kicks to disturbers, this big thick-head passed in advance of +the rest. He understood not the first thing of arithmetic, he filled his +compositions with absurdities, he never succeeded in retaining a phrase +in his mind; and now he solves problems, writes correctly, and sings his +lessons like a song. And his iron will can be divined from the seeing +how he is made, so very thickset and squat, with a square head and no +neck, with short, thick hands, and coarse voice. He studies even on +scraps of newspaper, and on theatre bills, and every time that he has +ten soldi, he buys a book; he has already collected a little library, +and in a moment of good humor he allowed the promise to slip from his +mouth that he would take me home and show it to me. He speaks to no one, +he plays with no one, he is always on hand, on his bench, with his fists +pressed to his temples, firm as a rock, listening to the teacher. How he +must have toiled, poor Stardi! The master said to him this morning, +although he was impatient and in a bad humor, when he bestowed the +medals:-- + +"Bravo, Stardi! he who endures, conquers." But the latter did not appear +in the least puffed up with pride--he did not smile; and no sooner had +he returned to his seat, with the medal, than he planted his fists on +his temples again, and became more motionless and more attentive than +before. But the finest thing happened when he went out of school; for +his father, a blood-letter, as big and squat as himself, with a huge +face and a huge voice, was there waiting for him. He had not expected +this medal, and he was not willing to believe in it, so that it was +necessary for the master to reassure him, and then he began to laugh +heartily, and tapped his son on the back of the neck, saying +energetically, "Bravo! good! my dear pumpkin; you'll do!" and he stared +at him, astonished and smiling. And all the boys around him smiled too, +except Stardi. He was already ruminating the lesson for to-morrow +morning in that huge head of his. + + +GRATITUDE. + + Saturday, 31st. + + Your comrade Stardi never complains of his teacher; I am sure of + that. "The master was in a bad temper, was impatient,"--you say it + in a tone of resentment. Think an instant how often you give way to + acts of impatience, and towards whom? towards your father and your + mother, towards whom your impatience is a crime. Your master has + very good cause to be impatient at times! Reflect that he has been + laboring for boys these many years, and that if he has found many + affectionate and noble individuals among them, he has also found + many ungrateful ones, who have abused his kindness and ignored his + toils; and that, between you all, you cause him far more bitterness + than satisfaction. Reflect, that the most holy man on earth, if + placed in his position, would allow himself to be conquered by + wrath now and then. And then, if you only knew how often the + teacher goes to give a lesson to a sick boy, all alone, because he + is not ill enough to be excused from school and is impatient on + account of his suffering, and is pained to see that the rest of you + do not notice it, or abuse it! Respect, love, your master, my son. + Love him, also, because your father loves and respects him; because + he consecrates his life to the welfare of so many boys who will + forget him; love him because he opens and enlightens your + intelligence and educates your mind; because one of these days, + when you have become a man, and when neither I nor he shall be in + the world, his image will often present itself to your mind, side + by side with mine, and then you will see certain expressions of + sorrow and fatigue in his honest countenance to which you now pay + no heed: you will recall them, and they will pain you, even after + the lapse of thirty years; and you will feel ashamed, you will feel + sad at not having loved him, at having behaved badly to him. Love + your master; for he belongs to that vast family of fifty thousand + elementary instructors, scattered throughout all Italy, who are the + intellectual fathers of the millions of boys who are growing up + with you; the laborers, hardly recognized and poorly recompensed, + who are preparing in our country a people superior to those of the + present. I am not content with the affection which you have for me, + if you have it not also for all those who are doing you good, and + among these, your master stands first, after your parents. Love him + as you would love a brother of mine; love him when he caresses and + when he reproves you; when he is just, and when he appears to you + to be unjust; love him when he is amiable and gracious; and love + him even more when you see him sad. Love him always. And always + pronounce with reverence that name of "teacher," which, after that + of your father, is the noblest, the sweetest name which one man can + apply to another man. + +THY FATHER. + + + + +JANUARY. + + +THE ASSISTANT MASTER. + + Wednesday, 4th. + +MY father was right; the master was in a bad humor because he was not +well; for the last three days, in fact, the assistant has been coming in +his stead,--that little man, without a beard, who seems like a youth. A +shameful thing happened this morning. There had been an uproar on the +first and second days, in the school, because the assistant is very +patient and does nothing but say, "Be quiet, be quiet, I beg of you." + +But this morning they passed all bounds. Such a noise arose, that his +words were no longer audible, and he admonished and besought; but it was +a mere waste of breath. Twice the head-master appeared at the door and +looked in; but the moment he disappeared the murmur increased as in a +market. It was in vain that Derossi and Garrone turned round and made +signs to their comrades to be good, so that it was a shame. No one paid +any heed to them. Stardi alone remained quiet, with his elbows on the +bench, and his fists to his temples, meditating, perhaps, on his famous +library; and Garoffi, that boy with the hooked nose and the +postage-stamps, who was wholly occupied in making a catalogue of the +subscribers at two centesimi each, for a lottery for a pocket inkstand. +The rest chattered and laughed, pounded on the points of pens fixed in +the benches, and snapped pellets of paper at each other with the +elastics of their garters. + +The assistant grasped now one, now another, by the arm, and shook him; +and he placed one of them against the wall--time wasted. He no longer +knew what to do, and he entreated them. "Why do you behave like this? Do +you wish me to punish you by force?" Then he thumped the little table +with his fist, and shouted in a voice of wrath and lamentation, +"Silence! silence! silence!" It was difficult to hear him. But the +uproar continued to increase. Franti threw a paper dart at him, some +uttered cat-calls, others thumped each other on the head; the +hurly-burly was indescribable; when, all of a sudden, the beadle entered +and said:-- + +"Signor Master, the head-master has sent for you." The master rose and +went out in haste, with a gesture of despair. Then the tumult began more +vigorously than ever. But suddenly Garrone sprang up, his face all +convulsed, and his fists clenched, and shouted in a voice choked with +rage:-- + +"Stop this! You are brutes! You take advantage of him because he is +kind. If he were to bruise your bones for you, you would be as abject as +dogs. You are a pack of cowards! The first one of you that jeers at him +again, I shall wait for outside, and I will break his teeth,--I swear +it,--even under the very eyes of his father!" + +All became silent. Ah, what a fine thing it was to see Garrone, with his +eyes darting flames! He seemed to be a furious young lion. He stared at +the most daring, one after the other, and all hung their heads. When the +assistant re-entered, with red eyes, not a breath was audible. He stood +in amazement; then, catching sight of Garrone, who was still all fiery +and trembling, he understood it all, and he said to him, with accents of +great affection, as he might have spoken to a brother, "I thank you, +Garrone." + + +STARDI'S LIBRARY. + +I have been home with Stardi, who lives opposite the schoolhouse; and I +really experienced a feeling of envy at the sight of his library. He is +not at all rich, and he cannot buy many books; but he preserves his +schoolbooks with great care, as well as those which his relatives give +him; and he lays aside every soldo that is given to him, and spends it +at the bookseller's. In this way he has collected a little library; and +when his father perceived that he had this passion, he bought him a +handsome bookcase of walnut wood, with a green curtain, and he has had +most of his volumes bound for him in the colors that he likes. Thus when +he draws a little cord, the green curtain runs aside, and three rows of +books of every color become visible, all ranged in order, and shining, +with gilt titles on their backs,--books of tales, of travels, and of +poetry; and some illustrated ones. And he understands how to combine +colors well: he places the white volumes next to the red ones, the +yellow next the black, the blue beside the white, so that, viewed from a +distance, they make a very fine appearance; and he amuses himself by +varying the combinations. He has made himself a catalogue. He is like a +librarian. He is always standing near his books, dusting them, turning +over the leaves, examining the bindings: it is something to see the care +with which he opens them, with his big, stubby hands, and blows between +the pages: then they seem perfectly new again. I have worn out all of +mine. It is a festival for him to polish off every new book that he +buys, to put it in its place, and to pick it up again to take another +look at it from all sides, and to brood over it as a treasure. He showed +me nothing else for a whole hour. His eyes were troubling him, because +he had read too much. At a certain time his father, who is large and +thickset like himself, with a big head like his, entered the room, and +gave him two or three taps on the nape of the neck, saying with that +huge voice of his:-- + +"What do you think of him, eh? of this head of bronze? It is a stout +head, that will succeed in anything, I assure you!" + +And Stardi half closed his eyes, under these rough caresses, like a big +hunting-dog. I do not know, I did not dare to jest with him; it did not +seem true to me, that he was only a year older than myself; and when he +said to me, "Farewell until we meet again," at the door, with that face +of his that always seems wrathful, I came very near replying to him, "I +salute you, sir," as to a man. I told my father afterwards, at home: "I +don't understand it; Stardi has no natural talent, he has not fine +manners, and his face is almost ridiculous; yet he suggests ideas to +me." And my father answered, "It is because he has character." And I +added, "During the hour that I spent with him he did not utter fifty +words, he did not show me a single plaything, he did not laugh once; yet +I liked to go there." + +And my father answered, "That is because you esteem him." + + +THE SON OF THE BLACKSMITH-IRONMONGER. + +Yes, but I also esteem Precossi; and to say that I esteem him is not +enough,--Precossi, the son of the blacksmith-ironmonger,--that thin +little fellow, who has kind, melancholy eyes and a frightened air; who +is so timid that he says to every one, "Excuse me"; who is always +sickly, and who, nevertheless, studies so much. His father returns home, +intoxicated with brandy, and beats him without the slightest reason in +the world, and flings his books and his copy-books in the air with a +backward turn of his hand; and he comes to school with the black and +blue marks on his face, and sometimes with his face all swollen, and his +eyes inflamed with much weeping. But never, never can he be made to +acknowledge that his father beats him. + +"Your father has been beating you," his companions say to him; and he +instantly exclaims, "That is not true! it is not true!" for the sake of +not dishonoring his father. + +"You did not burn this leaf," the teacher says to him, showing him his +work, half burned. + +"Yes," he replies, in a trembling voice; "I let it fall on the fire." + +But we know very well, nevertheless, that his drunken father overturned +the table and the light with a kick, while the boy was doing his work. +He lives in a garret of our house, on another staircase. The portress +tells my mother everything: my sister Silvia heard him screaming from +the terrace one day, when his father had sent him headlong down stairs, +because he had asked for a few soldi to buy a grammar. His father +drinks, but does not work, and his family suffers from hunger. How often +Precossi comes to school with an empty stomach and nibbles in secret at +a roll which Garrone has given him, or at an apple brought to him by the +schoolmistress with the red feather, who was his teacher in the first +lower class. But he never says, "I am hungry; my father does not give me +anything to eat." His father sometimes comes for him, when he chances to +be passing the schoolhouse,--pallid, unsteady on his legs, with a fierce +face, and his hair over his eyes, and his cap awry; and the poor boy +trembles all over when he catches sight of him in the street; but he +immediately runs to meet him, with a smile; and his father does not +appear to see him, but seems to be thinking of something else. Poor +Precossi! He mends his torn copy-books, borrows books to study his +lessons, fastens the fragments of his shirt together with pins; and it +is a pity to see him performing his gymnastics, with those huge shoes in +which he is fairly lost, in those trousers which drag on the ground, and +that jacket which is too long, and those huge sleeves turned back to the +very elbows. And he studies; he does his best; he would be one of the +first, if he were able to work at home in peace. This morning he came to +school with the marks of finger-nails on one cheek, and they all began +to say to him:-- + +"It is your father, and you cannot deny it this time; it was your father +who did that to you. Tell the head-master about it, and he will have him +called to account for it." + +But he sprang up, all flushed, with a voice trembling with +indignation:-- + +"It's not true! it's not true! My father never beats me!" + +But afterwards, during lesson time, his tears fell upon the bench, and +when any one looked at him, he tried to smile, in order that he might +not show it. Poor Precossi! To-morrow Derossi, Coretti, and Nelli are +coming to my house; I want to tell him to come also; and I want to have +him take luncheon with me: I want to treat him to books, and turn the +house upside down to amuse him, and to fill his pockets with fruit, for +the sake of seeing him contented for once, poor Precossi! who is so good +and so courageous. + + +A FINE VISIT. + + Thursday, 12th. + +This has been one of the finest Thursdays of the year for me. At two +o'clock, precisely, Derossi and Coretti came to the house, with Nelli, +the hunchback: Precossi was not permitted by his father to come. Derossi +and Coretti were still laughing at their encounter with Crossi, the son +of the vegetable-seller, in the street,--the boy with the useless arm +and the red hair,--who was carrying a huge cabbage for sale, and with +the soldo which he was to receive for the cabbage he was to go and buy a +pen. He was perfectly happy because his father had written from America +that they might expect him any day. Oh, the two beautiful hours that we +passed together! Derossi and Coretti are the two jolliest boys in the +school; my father fell in love with them. Coretti had on his +chocolate-colored tights and his catskin cap. He is a lively imp, who +wants to be always doing something, stirring up something, setting +something in motion. He had already carried on his shoulders half a +cartload of wood, early that morning; nevertheless, he galloped all +over the house, taking note of everything and talking incessantly, as +sprightly and nimble as a squirrel; and passing into the kitchen, he +asked the cook how much we had to pay a myriagramme for wood, because +his father sells it at forty-five centesimi. He is always talking of his +father, of the time when he was a soldier in the 49th regiment, at the +battle of Custoza, where he served in the squadron of Prince Umberto; +and he is so gentle in his manners! It makes no difference that he was +born and brought up surrounded by wood: he has nobility in his blood, in +his heart, as my father says. And Derossi amused us greatly; he knows +geography like a master: he shut his eyes and said:-- + +"There, I see the whole of Italy; the Apennines, which extend to the +Ionian Sea, the rivers flowing here and there, the white cities, the +gulfs, the blue bays, the green islands;" and he repeated the names +correctly in their order and very rapidly, as though he were reading +them on the map; and at the sight of him standing thus, with his head +held high, with all his golden curls, with his closed eyes, and all +dressed in bright blue with gilt buttons, as straight and handsome as a +statue, we were all filled with admiration. In one hour he had learned +by heart nearly three pages, which he is to recite the day after +to-morrow, for the anniversary of the funeral of King Vittorio. And even +Nelli gazed at him in wonder and affection, as he rubbed the folds of +his apron of black cloth, and smiled with his clear and mournful eyes. +This visit gave me a great deal of pleasure; it left something like +sparks in my mind and my heart. And it pleased me, too, when they went +away, to see poor Nelli between the other two tall, strong fellows, who +carried him home on their arms, and made him laugh as I have never seen +him laugh before. On returning to the dining-room, I perceived that the +picture representing Rigoletto, the hunchbacked jester, was no longer +there. My father had taken it away in order that Nelli might not see it. + + +THE FUNERAL OF VITTORIO EMANUELE. + + January, 17th. + +To-day, at two o'clock, as soon as we entered the schoolroom, the master +called up Derossi, who went and took his place in front of the little +table facing us, and began to recite, in his vibrating tones, gradually +raising his limpid voice, and growing flushed in the face:-- + +"Four years ago, on this day, at this hour, there arrived in front of +the Pantheon at Rome, the funeral car which bore the body of Vittorio +Emanuele II., the first king of Italy, dead after a reign of twenty-nine +years, during which the great Italian fatherland, broken up into seven +states, and oppressed by strangers and by tyrants, had been brought back +to life in one single state, free and independent; after a reign of +twenty-nine years, which he had made illustrious and beneficent with his +valor, with loyalty, with boldness amid perils, with wisdom amid +triumphs, with constancy amid misfortunes. The funeral car arrived, +laden with wreaths, after having traversed Rome under a rain of flowers, +amid the silence of an immense and sorrowing multitude, which had +assembled from every part of Italy; preceded by a legion of generals and +by a throng of ministers and princes, followed by a retinue of crippled +veterans, by a forest of banners, by the envoys of three hundred towns, +by everything which represents the power and the glory of a people, it +arrived before the august temple where the tomb awaited it. At that +moment twelve cuirassiers removed the coffin from the car. At that +moment Italy bade her last farewell to her dead king, to her old king +whom she had loved so dearly, the last farewell to her soldier, to her +father, to the twenty-nine most fortunate and most blessed years in her +history. It was a grand and solemn moment. The looks, the souls, of all +were quivering at the sight of that coffin and the darkened banners of +the eighty regiments of the army of Italy, borne by eighty officers, +drawn up in line on its passage: for Italy was there in those eighty +tokens, which recalled the thousands of dead, the torrents of blood, our +most sacred glories, our most holy sacrifices, our most tremendous +griefs. The coffin, borne by the cuirassiers, passed, and then the +banners bent forward all together in salute,--the banners of the new +regiments, the old, tattered banners of Goito, of Pastrengo, of Santa +Lucia, of Novara, of the Crimea, of Palestro, of San Martino, of +Castelfidardo; eighty black veils fell, a hundred medals clashed against +the staves, and that sonorous and confused uproar, which stirred the +blood of all, was like the sound of a thousand human voices saying all +together, 'Farewell, good king, gallant king, loyal king! Thou wilt live +in the heart of thy people as long as the sun shall shine over Italy.' + +"After this, the banners rose heavenward once more, and King Vittorio +entered into the immortal glory of the tomb." + + +FRANTI EXPELLED FROM SCHOOL. + + Saturday, 21st. + +Only one boy was capable of laughing while Derossi was declaiming the +funeral oration of the king, and Franti laughed. I detest that fellow. +He is wicked. When a father comes to the school to reprove his son, he +enjoys it; when any one cries, he laughs. He trembles before Garrone, +and he strikes the little mason because he is small; he torments Crossi +because he has a helpless arm; he ridicules Precossi, whom every one +respects; he even jeers at Robetti, that boy in the second grade who +walks on crutches, through having saved a child. He provokes those who +are weaker than himself, and when it comes to blows, he grows ferocious +and tries to do harm. There is something beneath that low forehead, in +those turbid eyes, which he keeps nearly concealed under the visor of +his small cap of waxed cloth, which inspires a shudder. He fears no one; +he laughs in the master's face; he steals when he gets a chance; he +denies it with an impenetrable countenance; he is always engaged in a +quarrel with some one; he brings big pins to school, to prick his +neighbors with; he tears the buttons from his own jackets and from those +of others, and plays with them: his paper, books, and copy-books are all +crushed, torn, dirty; his ruler is jagged, his pens gnawed, his nails +bitten, his clothes covered with stains and rents which he has got in +his brawls. They say that his mother has fallen ill from the trouble +that he causes her, and that his father has driven him from the house +three times; his mother comes every now and then to make inquiries, and +she always goes away in tears. He hates school, he hates his +companions, he hates the teacher. The master sometimes pretends not to +see his rascalities, and he behaves all the worse. He tried to get a +hold on him by kind treatment, and the boy ridiculed him for it. He said +terrible things to him, and the boy covered his face with his hands, as +though he were crying; but he was laughing. He was suspended from school +for three days, and he returned more perverse and insolent than before. +Derossi said to him one day, "Stop it! don't you see how much the +teacher suffers?" and the other threatened to stick a nail into his +stomach. But this morning, at last, he got himself driven out like a +dog. While the master was giving to Garrone the rough draft of _The +Sardinian Drummer-Boy_, the monthly story for January, to copy, he threw +a petard on the floor, which exploded, making the schoolroom resound as +from a discharge of musketry. The whole class was startled by it. The +master sprang to his feet, and cried:-- + +"Franti, leave the school!" + +The latter retorted, "It wasn't I;" but he laughed. The master +repeated:-- + +"Go!" + +"I won't stir," he answered. + +Then the master lost his temper, and flung himself upon him, seized him +by the arms, and tore him from his seat. He resisted, ground his teeth, +and made him carry him out by main force. The master bore him thus, +heavy as he was, to the head-master, and then returned to the schoolroom +alone and seated himself at his little table, with his head clutched in +his hands, gasping, and with an expression of such weariness and trouble +that it was painful to look at him. + +"After teaching school for thirty years!" he exclaimed sadly, shaking +his head. No one breathed. His hands were trembling with fury, and the +perpendicular wrinkle that he has in the middle of his forehead was so +deep that it seemed like a wound. Poor master! All felt sorry for him. +Derossi rose and said, "Signor Master, do not grieve. We love you." And +then he grew a little more tranquil, and said, "We will go on with the +lesson, boys." + + +THE SARDINIAN DRUMMER-BOY. + +(_Monthly Story._) + +On the first day of the battle of Custoza, on the 24th of July, 1848, +about sixty soldiers, belonging to an infantry regiment of our army, who +had been sent to an elevation to occupy an isolated house, suddenly +found themselves assaulted by two companies of Austrian soldiers, who, +showering them with bullets from various quarters, hardly gave them time +to take refuge in the house and to barricade the doors, after leaving +several dead and wounded on the field. Having barred the doors, our men +ran in haste to the windows of the ground floor and the first story, and +began to fire brisk discharges at their assailants, who, approaching +gradually, ranged in a semicircle, made vigorous reply. The sixty +Italian soldiers were commanded by two non-commissioned officers and a +captain, a tall, dry, austere old man, with white hair and mustache; and +with them there was a Sardinian drummer-boy, a lad of a little over +fourteen, who did not look twelve, small, with an olive-brown +complexion, and two small, deep, sparkling eyes. The captain directed +the defence from a room on the first floor, launching commands that +seemed like pistol-shots, and no sign of emotion was visible on his iron +countenance. The drummer-boy, a little pale, but firm on his legs, had +jumped upon a table, and was holding fast to the wall and stretching out +his neck in order to gaze out of the windows, and athwart the smoke on +the fields he saw the white uniforms of the Austrians, who were slowly +advancing. The house was situated at the summit of a steep declivity, +and on the side of the slope it had but one high window, corresponding +to a chamber in the roof: therefore the Austrians did not threaten the +house from that quarter, and the slope was free; the fire beat only upon +the front and the two ends. + +But it was an infernal fire, a hailstorm of leaden bullets, which split +the walls on the outside, ground the tiles to powder, and in the +interior cracked ceilings, furniture, window-frames, and door-frames, +sending splinters of wood flying through the air, and clouds of plaster, +and fragments of kitchen utensils and glass, whizzing, and rebounding, +and breaking everything with a noise like the crushing of a skull. From +time to time one of the soldiers who were firing from the windows fell +crashing back to the floor, and was dragged to one side. Some staggered +from room to room, pressing their hands on their wounds. There was +already one dead body in the kitchen, with its forehead cleft. The +semicircle of the enemy was drawing together. + +At a certain point the captain, hitherto impassive, was seen to make a +gesture of uneasiness, and to leave the room with huge strides, followed +by a sergeant. Three minutes later the sergeant returned on a run, and +summoned the drummer-boy, making him a sign to follow. The lad followed +him at a quick pace up the wooden staircase, and entered with him into +a bare garret, where he saw the captain writing with a pencil on a sheet +of paper, as he leaned against the little window; and on the floor at +his feet lay the well-rope. + +The captain folded the sheet of paper, and said sharply, as he fixed his +cold gray eyes, before which all the soldiers trembled, on the boy:-- + +"Drummer!" + +The drummer-boy put his hand to his visor. + +The captain said, "You have courage." + +The boy's eyes flashed. + +"Yes, captain," he replied. + +"Look down there," said the captain, pushing him to the window; "on the +plain, near the houses of Villafranca, where there is a gleam of +bayonets. There stand our troops, motionless. You are to take this +billet, tie yourself to the rope, descend from the window, get down that +slope in an instant, make your way across the fields, arrive at our men, +and give the note to the first officer you see. Throw off your belt and +knapsack." + +The drummer took off his belt and knapsack and thrust the note into his +breast pocket; the sergeant flung the rope out of the window, and held +one end of it clutched fast in his hands; the captain helped the lad to +clamber out of the small window, with his back turned to the landscape. + +"Now look out," he said; "the salvation of this detachment lies in your +courage and in your legs." + +"Trust to me, Signor Captain," replied the drummer-boy, as he let +himself down. + +"Bend over on the slope," said the captain, grasping the rope, with the +sergeant. + +"Never fear." + +"God aid you!" + +In a few moments the drummer-boy was on the ground; the sergeant drew in +the rope and disappeared; the captain stepped impetuously in front of +the window and saw the boy flying down the slope. + +He was already hoping that he had succeeded in escaping unobserved, when +five or six little puffs of powder, which rose from the earth in front +of and behind the lad, warned him that he had been espied by the +Austrians, who were firing down upon him from the top of the elevation: +these little clouds were thrown into the air by the bullets. But the +drummer continued to run at a headlong speed. All at once he fell to the +earth. "He is killed!" roared the captain, biting his fist. But before +he had uttered the word he saw the drummer spring up again. "Ah, only a +fall," he said to himself, and drew a long breath. The drummer, in fact, +set out again at full speed; but he limped. "He has turned his ankle," +thought the captain. Again several cloudlets of powder smoke rose here +and there about the lad, but ever more distant. He was safe. The captain +uttered an exclamation of triumph. But he continued to follow him with +his eyes, trembling because it was an affair of minutes: if he did not +arrive yonder in the shortest possible time with that billet, which +called for instant succor, either all his soldiers would be killed or he +should be obliged to surrender himself a prisoner with them. + +The boy ran rapidly for a space, then relaxed his pace and limped, then +resumed his course, but grew constantly more fatigued, and every little +while he stumbled and paused. + +"Perhaps a bullet has grazed him," thought the captain, and he noted all +his movements, quivering with excitement; and he encouraged him, he +spoke to him, as though he could hear him; he measured incessantly, with +a flashing eye, the space intervening between the fleeing boy and that +gleam of arms which he could see in the distance on the plain amid the +fields of grain gilded by the sun. And meanwhile he heard the whistle +and the crash of the bullets in the rooms beneath, the imperious and +angry shouts of the sergeants and the officers, the piercing laments of +the wounded, the ruin of furniture, and the fall of rubbish. + +"On! courage!" he shouted, following the far-off drummer with his +glance. "Forward! run! He halts, that cursed boy! Ah, he resumes his +course!" + +An officer came panting to tell him that the enemy, without slackening +their fire, were flinging out a white flag to hint at a surrender. +"Don't reply to them!" he cried, without detaching his eyes from the +boy, who was already on the plain, but who was no longer running, and +who seemed to be dragging himself along with difficulty. + +"Go! run!" said the captain, clenching his teeth and his fists; "let +them kill you; die, you rascal, but go!" Then he uttered a horrible +oath. "Ah, the infamous poltroon! he has sat down!" In fact, the boy, +whose head he had hitherto been able to see projecting above a field of +grain, had disappeared, as though he had fallen; but, after the lapse of +a minute, his head came into sight again; finally, it was lost behind +the hedges, and the captain saw it no more. + +Then he descended impetuously; the bullets were coming in a tempest; the +rooms were encumbered with the wounded, some of whom were whirling round +like drunken men, and clutching at the furniture; the walls and floor +were bespattered with blood; corpses lay across the doorways; the +lieutenant had had his arm shattered by a ball; smoke and clouds of dust +enveloped everything. + +"Courage!" shouted the captain. "Stand firm at your post! Succor is on +the way! Courage for a little while longer!" + +The Austrians had approached still nearer: their contorted faces were +already visible through the smoke, and amid the crash of the firing +their savage and offensive shouts were audible, as they uttered insults, +suggested a surrender, and threatened slaughter. Some soldiers were +terrified, and withdrew from the windows; the sergeants drove them +forward again. But the fire of the defence weakened; discouragement made +its appearance on all faces. It was not possible to protract the +resistance longer. At a given moment the fire of the Austrians +slackened, and a thundering voice shouted, first in German and then in +Italian, "Surrender!" + +"No!" howled the captain from a window. + +And the firing recommenced more fast and furious on both sides. More +soldiers fell. Already more than one window was without defenders. The +fatal moment was near at hand. The captain shouted through his teeth, in +a strangled voice, "They are not coming! they are not coming!" and +rushed wildly about, twisting his sword about in his convulsively +clenched hand, and resolved to die; when a sergeant descending from the +garret, uttered a piercing shout, "They are coming!" "They are coming!" +repeated the captain, with a cry of joy. + +At that cry all, well and wounded, sergeants and officers, rushed to the +windows, and the resistance became fierce once more. A few moments later +a sort of uncertainty was noticeable, and a beginning of disorder among +the foe. Suddenly the captain hastily collected a little troop in the +room on the ground floor, in order to make a sortie with fixed bayonets. +Then he flew up stairs. Scarcely had he arrived there when they heard a +hasty trampling of feet, accompanied by a formidable hurrah, and saw +from the windows the two-pointed hats of the Italian carabineers +advancing through the smoke, a squadron rushing forward at great speed, +and a lightning flash of blades whirling in the air, as they fell on +heads, on shoulders, and on backs. Then the troop darted out of the +door, with bayonets lowered; the enemy wavered, were thrown into +disorder, and turned their backs; the field was left unincumbered, the +house was free, and a little later two battalions of Italian infantry +and two cannons occupied the eminence. + +The captain, with the soldiers that remained to him, rejoined his +regiment, went on fighting, and was slightly wounded in the left hand by +a bullet on the rebound, in the final assault with bayonets. + +The day ended with the victory on our side. + +But on the following day, the conflict having begun again, the Italians +were overpowered by the overwhelming numbers of the Austrians, in spite +of a valorous resistance, and on the morning of the 27th they sadly +retreated towards the Mincio. + +The captain, although wounded, made the march on foot with his soldiers, +weary and silent, and, arrived at the close of the day at Goito, on the +Mincio, he immediately sought out his lieutenant, who had been picked up +with his arm shattered, by our ambulance corps, and who must have +arrived before him. He was directed to a church, where the field +hospital had been installed in haste. Thither he betook himself. The +church was full of wounded men, ranged in two lines of beds, and on +mattresses spread on the floor; two doctors and numerous assistants were +going and coming, busily occupied; and suppressed cries and groans were +audible. + +No sooner had the captain entered than he halted and cast a glance +around, in search of his officer. + +At that moment he heard himself called in a weak voice,--"Signor +Captain!" He turned round. It was his drummer-boy. He was lying on a cot +bed, covered to the breast with a coarse window curtain, in red and +white squares, with his arms on the outside, pale and thin, but with +eyes which still sparkled like black gems. + +"Are you here?" asked the captain, amazed, but still sharply. "Bravo! +You did your duty." + +"I did all that I could," replied the drummer-boy. + +"Were you wounded?" said the captain, seeking with his eyes for his +officer in the neighboring beds. + +"What could one expect?" said the lad, who gained courage by speaking, +expressing the lofty satisfaction of having been wounded for the first +time, without which he would not have dared to open his mouth in the +presence of this captain; "I had a fine run, all bent over, but suddenly +they caught sight of me. I should have arrived twenty minutes earlier if +they had not hit me. Luckily, I soon came across a captain of the staff, +to whom I gave the note. But it was hard work to get down after that +caress! I was dying of thirst. I was afraid that I should not get there +at all. I wept with rage at the thought that at every moment of delay +another man was setting out yonder for the other world. But enough! I +did what I could. I am content. But, with your permission, captain, you +should look to yourself: you are losing blood." + +Several drops of blood had in fact trickled down on the captain's +fingers from his imperfectly bandaged palm. + +"Would you like to have me give the bandage a turn, captain? Hold it +here a minute." + +The captain held out his left hand, and stretched out his right to help +the lad to loosen the knot and to tie it again; but no sooner had the +boy raised himself from his pillow than he turned pale and was obliged +to support his head once more. + +"That will do, that will do," said the captain, looking at him and +withdrawing his bandaged hand, which the other tried to retain. "Attend +to your own affairs, instead of thinking of others, for things that are +not severe may become serious if they are neglected." + +The drummer-boy shook his head. + +"But you," said the captain, observing him attentively, "must have lost +a great deal of blood to be as weak as this." + +"Must have lost a great deal of blood!" replied the boy, with a smile. +"Something else besides blood: look here." And with one movement he drew +aside the coverlet. + +The captain started back a pace in horror. + +The lad had but one leg. His left leg had been amputated above the knee; +the stump was swathed in blood-stained cloths. + +At that moment a small, plump, military surgeon passed, in his +shirt-sleeves. "Ah, captain," he said, rapidly, nodding towards the +drummer, "this is an unfortunate case; there is a leg that might have +been saved if he had not exerted himself in such a crazy manner--that +cursed inflammation! It had to be cut off away up here. Oh, but he's a +brave lad. I can assure you! He never shed a tear, nor uttered a cry! +He was proud of being an Italian boy, while I was performing the +operation, upon my word of honor. He comes of a good race, by Heavens!" +And away he went, on a run. + +The captain wrinkled his heavy white brows, gazed fixedly at the +drummer-boy, and spread the coverlet over him again, and slowly, then as +though unconsciously, and still gazing intently at him, he raised his +hand to his head, and lifted his cap. + +"Signor Captain!" exclaimed the boy in amazement. "What are you doing, +captain? To me!" + +And then that rough soldier, who had never said a gentle word to an +inferior, replied in an indescribably sweet and affectionate voice, "I +am only a captain; you are a hero." + +Then he threw himself with wide-spread arms upon the drummer-boy, and +kissed him three times upon the heart. + + +THE LOVE OF COUNTRY. + + Tuesday, 24th. + + Since the tale of the _Drummer-boy_ has touched your heart, it + should be easy for you this morning to do your composition for + examination--_Why you love Italy_--well. Why do I love Italy? Do + not a hundred answers present themselves to you on the instant? I + love Italy because my mother is an Italian; because the blood that + flows in my veins is Italian; because the soil in which are buried + the dead whom my mother mourns and whom my father venerates is + Italian; because the town in which I was born, the language that I + speak, the books that educate me,--because my brother, my sister, + my comrades, the great people among whom I live, and the beautiful + nature which surrounds me, and all that I see, that I love, that I + study, that I admire, is Italian. Oh, you cannot feel that + affection in its entirety! You will feel it when you become a man; + when, returning from a long journey, after a prolonged absence, you + step up in the morning to the bulwarks of the vessel and see on the + distant horizon the lofty blue mountains of your country; you will + feel it then in the impetuous flood of tenderness which will fill + your eyes with tears and will wrest a cry from your heart. You will + feel it in some great and distant city, in that impulse of the soul + which will impel you from the strange throng towards a workingman + from whom you have heard in passing a word in your own tongue. You + will feel it in that sad and proud wrath which will drive the blood + to your brow when you hear insults to your country from the mouth + of a stranger. You will feel it in more proud and vigorous measure + on the day when the menace of a hostile race shall call forth a + tempest of fire upon your country, and when you shall behold arms + raging on every side, youths thronging in legions, fathers kissing + their children and saying, "Courage!" mothers bidding adieu to + their young sons and crying, "Conquer!" You will feel it like a joy + divine if you have the good fortune to behold the re-entrance to + your town of the regiments, weary, ragged, with thinned ranks, yet + terrible, with the splendor of victory in their eyes, and their + banners torn by bullets, followed by a vast convoy of brave + fellows, bearing their bandaged heads and their stumps of arms + loftily, amid a wild throng, which covers them with flowers, with + blessings, and with kisses. Then you will comprehend the love of + country; then you will feel your country, Enrico. It is a grand and + sacred thing. May I one day see you return in safety from a battle + fought for her, safe,--you who are my flesh and soul; but if I + should learn that you have preserved your life because you were + concealed from death, your father, who welcomes you with a cry of + joy when you return from school, will receive you with a sob of + anguish, and I shall never be able to love you again, and I shall + die with that dagger in my heart. + + THY FATHER. + + +ENVY. + + Wednesday, 25th. + +The boy who wrote the best composition of all on our country was +Derossi, as usual. And Votini, who thought himself sure of the first +medal--I like Votini well enough, although he is rather vain and does +polish himself up a trifle too much,--but it makes me scorn him, now +that I am his neighbor on the bench, to see how envious he is of +Derossi. He would like to vie with him; he studies hard, but he cannot +do it by any possibility, for the other is ten times as strong as he is +on every point; and Votini rails at him. Carlo Nobis envies him also; +but he has so much pride in his body that, purely from pride, he does +not allow it to be perceived. Votini, on the other hand, betrays +himself: he complains of his difficulties at home, and says that the +master is unjust to him; and when Derossi replies so promptly and so +well to questions, as he always does, his face clouds over, he hangs his +head, pretends not to hear, or tries to laugh, but he laughs awkwardly. +And thus every one knows about it, so that when the master praises +Derossi they all turn to look at Votini, who chews his venom, and the +little mason makes a hare's face at him. To-day, for instance, he was +put to the torture. The head-master entered the school and announced the +result of the examination,--"Derossi ten tenths and the first medal." + +Votini gave a huge sneeze. The master looked at him: it was not hard to +understand the matter. "Votini," he said, "do not let the serpent of +envy enter your body; it is a serpent which gnaws at the brain and +corrupts the heart." + + [Illustration: "THEN THE TROOP DARTED OUT OF THE DOOR."--Page 97.] + +Every one stared at him except Derossi. Votini tried to make some +answer, but could not; he sat there as though turned to stone, and with +a white face. Then, while the master was conducting the lesson, he began +to write in large characters on a sheet of paper, "_I am not envious of +those who gain the first medal through favoritism and injustice._" It +was a note which he meant to send to Derossi. But, in the meantime, I +perceived that Derossi's neighbors were plotting among themselves, and +whispering in each other's ears, and one cut with penknife from paper a +big medal on which they had drawn a black serpent. But Votini did not +notice this. The master went out for a few moments. All at once +Derossi's neighbors rose and left their seats, for the purpose of coming +and solemnly presenting the paper medal to Votini. The whole class was +prepared for a scene. Votini had already begun to quiver all over. +Derossi exclaimed:-- + +"Give that to me!" + +"So much the better," they replied; "you are the one who ought to carry +it." + +Derossi took the medal and tore it into bits. At that moment the master +returned, and resumed the lesson. I kept my eye on Votini. He had turned +as red as a coal. He took his sheet of paper very, very quietly, as +though in absence of mind, rolled it into a ball, on the sly, put it +into his mouth, chewed it a little, and then spit it out under the +bench. When school broke up, Votini, who was a little confused, let fall +his blotting-paper, as he passed Derossi. Derossi politely picked it up, +put it in his satchel, and helped him to buckle the straps. Votini dared +not raise his eyes. + + +FRANTI'S MOTHER. + + Saturday, 28th. + +But Votini is incorrigible. Yesterday morning, during the lesson on +religion, in the presence of the head-master, the teacher asked Derossi +if he knew by heart the two couplets in the reading-book,-- + + "Where'er I turn my gaze, 'tis Thee, great God, I see." + +Derossi said that he did not, and Votini suddenly exclaimed, "I know +them!" with a smile, as though to pique Derossi. But he was piqued +himself, instead, for he could not recite the poetry, because Franti's +mother suddenly flew into the schoolroom, breathless, with her gray hair +dishevelled and all wet with snow, and pushing before her her son, who +had been suspended from school for a week. What a sad scene we were +doomed to witness! The poor woman flung herself almost on her knees +before the head-master, with clasped hands, and besought him:-- + +"Oh, Signor Director, do me the favor to put my boy back in school! He +has been at home for three days. I have kept him hidden; but God have +mercy on him, if his father finds out about this affair: he will murder +him! Have pity! I no longer know what to do! I entreat you with my whole +soul!" + +The director tried to lead her out, but she resisted, still continuing +to pray and to weep. + +"Oh, if you only knew the trouble that this boy has caused me, you would +have compassion! Do me this favor! I hope that he will reform. I shall +not live long, Signor Director; I bear death within me; but I should +like to see him reformed before my death, because"--and she broke into a +passion of weeping--"he is my son--I love him--I shall die in despair! +Take him back once more, Signor Director, that a misfortune may not +happen in the family! Do it out of pity for a poor woman!" And she +covered her face with her hands and sobbed. + +Franti stood impassive, and hung his head. The head-master looked at +him, reflected a little, then said, "Franti, go to your place." + +Then the woman removed her hands from her face, quite comforted, and +began to express thanks upon thanks, without giving the director a +chance to speak, and made her way towards the door, wiping her eyes, and +saying hastily: "I beg of you, my son.--May all have patience.--Thanks, +Signor Director; you have performed a deed of mercy.--Be a good +boy.--Good day, boys.--Thanks, Signor Teacher; good by, and forgive a +poor mother." And after bestowing another supplicating glance at her son +from the door, she went away, pulling up the shawl which was trailing +after her, pale, bent, with a head which still trembled, and we heard +her coughing all the way down the stairs. The head-master gazed intently +at Franti, amid the silence of the class, and said to him in accents of +a kind to make him tremble:-- + +"Franti, you are killing your mother!" + +We all turned to look at Franti; and that infamous boy smiled. + + +HOPE. + + Sunday, 29th. + + Very beautiful, Enrico, was the impetuosity with which you flung + yourself on your mother's heart on your return from your lesson of + religion. Yes, your master said grand and consoling things to you. + God threw you in each other's arms; he will never part you. When I + die, when your father dies, we shall not speak to each other these + despairing words, "Mamma, papa, Enrico, I shall never see you + again!" We shall see each other again in another life, where he who + has suffered much in this life will receive compensation; where he + who has loved much on earth will find again the souls whom he has + loved, in a world without sin, without sorrow, and without death. + But we must all render ourselves worthy of that other life. + Reflect, my son. Every good action of yours, every impulse of + affection for those who love you, every courteous act towards your + companions, every noble thought of yours, is like a leap towards + that other world. And every misfortune, also, serves to raise you + towards that world; every sorrow, for every sorrow is the expiation + of a sin, every tear blots out a stain. Make it your rule to become + better and more loving every day than the day before. Say every + morning, "To-day I will do something for which my conscience will + praise me, and with which my father will be satisfied; something + which will render me beloved by such or such a comrade, by my + teacher, by my brother, or by others." And beseech God to give you + the strength to put your resolution into practice. "Lord, I wish to + be good, noble, courageous, gentle, sincere; help me; grant that + every night, when my mother gives me her last kiss, I may be able + to say to her, 'You kiss this night a nobler and more worthy boy + than you kissed last night.'" Keep always in your thoughts that + other superhuman and blessed Enrico which you may be after this + life. And pray. You cannot imagine the sweetness that you + experience,--how much better a mother feels when she sees her child + with hands clasped in prayer. When I behold you praying, it seems + impossible to me that there should not be some one there gazing at + you and listening to you. Then I believe more firmly that there is + a supreme goodness and an infinite pity; I love you more, I work + with more ardor, I endure with more force, I forgive with all my + heart, and I think of death with serenity. O great and good God! + To hear once more, after death, the voice of my mother, to meet my + children again, to see my Enrico once more, my Enrico, blessed and + immortal, and to clasp him in an embrace which shall nevermore be + loosed, nevermore, nevermore to all eternity! Oh, pray! let us + pray, let us love each other, let us be good, let us bear this + celestial hope in our hearts and souls, my adored child! + + THY MOTHER. + + + + +FEBRUARY. + + +A MEDAL WELL BESTOWED. + + Saturday, 4th. + +THIS morning the superintendent of the schools, a gentleman with a white +beard, and dressed in black, came to bestow the medals. He entered with +the head-master a little before the close and seated himself beside the +teacher. He questioned a few, then gave the first medal to Derossi, and +before giving the second, he stood for a few moments listening to the +teacher and the head-master, who were talking to him in a low voice. All +were asking themselves, "To whom will he give the second?" The +superintendent said aloud:-- + +"Pupil Pietro Precossi has merited the second medal this week,--merited +it by his work at home, by his lessons, by his handwriting, by his +conduct in every way." All turned to look at Precossi, and it was +evident that all took pleasure in it. Precossi rose in such confusion +that he did not know where he stood. + +"Come here," said the superintendent. Precossi sprang up from his seat +and stepped up to the master's table. The superintendent looked +attentively at that little waxen face, at that puny body enveloped in +turned and ill-fitting garments, at those kind, sad eyes, which avoided +his, but which hinted at a story of suffering; then he said to him, in a +voice full of affection, as he fastened the medal on his shoulder:-- + +"I give you the medal, Precossi. No one is more worthy to wear it than +you. I bestow it not only on your intelligence and your good will; I +bestow it on your heart, I give it to your courage, to your character of +a brave and good son. Is it not true," he added, turning to the class, +"that he deserves it also on that score?" + +"Yes, yes!" all answered, with one voice. Precossi made a movement of +the throat as though he were swallowing something, and cast upon the +benches a very sweet look, which was expressive of immense gratitude. + +"Go, my dear boy," said the superintendent; "and may God protect you!" + +It was the hour for dismissing the school. Our class got out before the +others. As soon as we were outside the door, whom should we espy there, +in the large hall, just at the entrance? The father of Precossi, the +blacksmith, pallid as was his wont, with fierce face, hair hanging over +his eyes, his cap awry, and unsteady on his legs. The teacher caught +sight of him instantly, and whispered to the superintendent. The latter +sought out Precossi in haste, and taking him by the hand, he led him to +his father. The boy was trembling. The boy and the superintendent +approached; many boys collected around them. + +"Is it true that you are the father of this lad?" demanded the +superintendent of the blacksmith, with a cheerful air, as though they +were friends. And, without awaiting a reply:-- + +"I rejoice with you. Look: he has won the second medal over fifty-four +of his comrades. He has deserved it by his composition, his arithmetic, +everything. He is a boy of great intelligence and good will, who will +accomplish great things; a fine boy, who possesses the affection and +esteem of all. You may feel proud of him, I assure you." + +The blacksmith, who had stood there with open mouth listening to him, +stared at the superintendent and the head-master, and then at his son, +who was standing before him with downcast eyes and trembling; and as +though he had remembered and comprehended then, for the first time, all +that he had made the little fellow suffer, and all the goodness, the +heroic constancy, with which the latter had borne it, he displayed in +his countenance a certain stupid wonder, then a sullen remorse, and +finally a sorrowful and impetuous tenderness, and with a rapid gesture +he caught the boy round the head and strained him to his breast. We all +passed before them. I invited him to come to the house on Thursday, with +Garrone and Crossi; others saluted him; one bestowed a caress on him, +another touched his medal, all said something to him; and his father +stared at us in amazement, as he still held his son's head pressed to +his breast, while the boy sobbed. + + +GOOD RESOLUTIONS. + + Sunday, 5th. + +That medal given to Precossi has awakened a remorse in me. I have never +earned one yet! For some time past I have not been studying, and I am +discontented with myself, and the teacher, my father and mother are +discontented with me. I no longer experience the pleasure in amusing +myself that I did formerly, when I worked with a will, and then sprang +up from the table and ran to my games full of mirth, as though I had +not played for a month. Neither do I sit down to the table with my +family with the same contentment as of old. I have always a shadow in my +soul, an inward voice, that says to me continually, "It won't do; it +won't do." + +In the evening I see a great many boys pass through the square on their +return from work, in the midst of a group of workingmen, weary but +merry. They step briskly along, impatient to reach their homes and +suppers, and they talk loudly, laughing and slapping each other on the +shoulder with hands blackened with coal, or whitened with plaster; and I +reflect that they have been working since daybreak up to this hour. And +with them are also many others, who are still smaller, who have been +standing all day on the summits of roofs, in front of ovens, among +machines, and in the water, and underground, with nothing to eat but a +little bread; and I feel almost ashamed, I, who in all that time have +accomplished nothing but scribble four small pages, and that +reluctantly. Ah, I am discontented, discontented! I see plainly that my +father is out of humor, and would like to tell me so; but he is sorry, +and he is still waiting. My dear father, who works so hard! all is +yours, all that I see around me in the house, all that I touch, all that +I wear and eat, all that affords me instruction and diversion,--all is +the fruit of your toil, and I do not work; all has cost you thought, +privations, trouble, effort; and I make no effort. Ah, no; this is too +unjust, and causes me too much pain. I will begin this very day; I will +apply myself to my studies, like Stardi, with clenched fists and set +teeth. I will set about it with all the strength of my will and my +heart. I will conquer my drowsiness in the evening, I will come down +promptly in the morning, I will cudgel my brains without ceasing, I +will chastise my laziness without mercy. I will toil, suffer, even to +the extent of making myself ill; but I will put a stop, once for all, to +this languishing and tiresome life, which is degrading me and causing +sorrow to others. Courage! to work! To work with all my soul, and all my +nerves! To work, which will restore to me sweet repose, pleasing games, +cheerful meals! To work, which will give me back again the kindly smile +of my teacher, the blessed kiss of my father! + + +THE ENGINE. + + Friday, 10th. + +Precossi came to our house to-day with Garrone. I do not think that two +sons of princes would have been received with greater delight. This is +the first time that Garrone has been here, because he is rather shy, and +then he is ashamed to show himself because he is so large, and is still +in the third grade. We all went to open the door when they rang. Crossi +did not come, because his father has at last arrived from America, after +an absence of seven years. My mother kissed Precossi at once. My father +introduced Garrone to her, saying:-- + +"Here he is. This lad is not only a good boy; he is a man of honor and a +gentleman." + +And the boy dropped his big, shaggy head, with a sly smile at me. +Precossi had on his medal, and he was happy, because his father has gone +to work again, and has not drunk anything for the last five days, wants +him to be always in the workshop to keep him company, and seems quite +another man. + +We began to play, and I brought out all my things. Precossi was +enchanted with my train of cars, with the engine that goes of itself on +being wound up. He had never seen anything of the kind. He devoured the +little red and yellow cars with his eyes. I gave him the key to play +with, and he knelt down to his amusement, and did not raise his head +again. I have never seen him so pleased. He kept saying, "Excuse me, +excuse me," to everything, and motioning to us with his hands, that we +should not stop the engine; and then he picked it up and replaced the +cars with a thousand precautions, as though they had been made of glass. +He was afraid of tarnishing them with his breath, and he polished them +up again, examining them top and bottom, and smiling to himself. We all +stood around him and gazed at him. We looked at that slender neck, those +poor little ears, which I had seen bleeding one day, that jacket with +the sleeves turned up, from which projected two sickly little arms, +which had been upraised to ward off blows from his face. Oh! at that +moment I could have cast all my playthings and all my books at his feet, +I could have torn the last morsel of bread from my lips to give to him, +I could have divested myself of my clothing to clothe him, I could have +flung myself on my knees to kiss his hand. "I will at least give you the +train," I thought; but--was necessary to ask permission of my father. At +that moment I felt a bit of paper thrust into my hand. I looked; it was +written in pencil by my father; it said: + +"Your train pleases Precossi. He has no playthings. Does your heart +suggest nothing to you?" + +Instantly I seized the engine and the cars in both hands, and placed the +whole in his arms, saying:-- + +"Take this; it is yours." + +He looked at me, and did not understand. "It is yours," I said; "I give +it to you." + +Then he looked at my father and mother, in still greater astonishment, +and asked me:-- + +"But why?" + +My father said to him:-- + +"Enrico gives it to you because he is your friend, because he loves +you--to celebrate your medal." + +Precossi asked timidly:-- + +"I may carry it away--home?" + +"Of course!" we all responded. He was already at the door, but he dared +not go out. He was happy! He begged our pardon with a mouth that smiled +and quivered. Garrone helped him to wrap up the train in a handkerchief, +and as he bent over, he made the things with which his pockets were +filled rattle. + +"Some day," said Precossi to me, "you shall come to the shop to see my +father at work. I will give you some nails." + +My mother put a little bunch of flowers into Garrone's buttonhole, for +him to carry to his mother in her name. Garrone said, "Thanks," in his +big voice, without raising his chin from his breast. But all his kind +and noble soul shone in his eyes. + + +PRIDE. + + Saturday, 11th. + +The idea of Carlo Nobis rubbing off his sleeve affectedly, when Precossi +touches him in passing! That fellow is pride incarnate because his +father is a rich man. But Derossi's father is rich too. He would like to +have a bench to himself; he is afraid that the rest will soil it; he +looks down on everybody and always has a scornful smile on his lips: woe +to him who stumbles over his foot, when we go out in files two by two! +For a mere trifle he flings an insulting word in your face, or a threat +to get his father to come to the school. It is true that his father did +give him a good lesson when he called the little son of the charcoal-man +a ragamuffin. I have never seen so disagreeable a schoolboy! No one +speaks to him, no one says good by to him when he goes out; there is not +even a dog who would give him a suggestion when he does not know his +lesson. And he cannot endure any one, and he pretends to despise Derossi +more than all, because he is the head boy; and Garrone, because he is +beloved by all. But Derossi pays no attention to him when he is by; and +when the boys tell Garrone that Nobis has been speaking ill of him, he +says:-- + +"His pride is so senseless that it does not deserve even my passing +notice." + +But Coretti said to him one day, when he was smiling disdainfully at his +catskin cap:-- + +"Go to Derossi for a while, and learn how to play the gentleman!" + +Yesterday he complained to the master, because the Calabrian touched his +leg with his foot. The master asked the Calabrian:-- + +"Did you do it intentionally?"--"No, sir," he replied, frankly.--"You +are too petulant, Nobis." + +And Nobis retorted, in his airy way, "I shall tell my father about it." +Then the teacher got angry. + +"Your father will tell you that you are in the wrong, as he has on other +occasions. And besides that, it is the teacher alone who has the right +to judge and punish in school." Then he added pleasantly:-- + +"Come, Nobis, change your ways; be kind and courteous to your comrades. +You see, we have here sons of workingmen and of gentlemen, of the rich +and the poor, and all love each other and treat each other like +brothers, as they are. Why do not you do like the rest? It would not +cost you much to make every one like you, and you would be so much +happier yourself, too!--Well, have you no reply to make me?" + +Nobis, who had listened to him with his customary scornful smile, +answered coldly:-- + +"No, sir." + +"Sit down," said the master to him. "I am sorry for you. You are a +heartless boy." + +This seemed to be the end of it all; but the little mason, who sits on +the front bench, turned his round face towards Nobis, who sits on the +back bench, and made such a fine and ridiculous hare's face at him, that +the whole class burst into a shout of laughter. The master reproved him; +but he was obliged to put his hand over his own mouth to conceal a +smile. And even Nobis laughed, but not in a pleasant way. + + +THE WOUNDS OF LABOR. + + Monday, 15th. + +Nobis can be paired off with Franti: neither of them was affected this +morning in the presence of the terrible sight which passed before their +eyes. On coming out of school, I was standing with my father and looking +at some big rogues of the second grade, who had thrown themselves on +their knees and were wiping off the ice with their cloaks and caps, in +order to make slides more quickly, when we saw a crowd of people appear +at the end of the street, walking hurriedly, all serious and seemingly +terrified, and conversing in low tones. In the midst of them were three +policemen, and behind the policemen two men carrying a litter. Boys +hastened up from all quarters. The crowd advanced towards us. On the +litter was stretched a man, pale as a corpse, with his head resting on +one shoulder, and his hair tumbled and stained with blood, for he had +been losing blood through the mouth and ears; and beside the litter +walked a woman with a baby in her arms, who seemed crazy, and who +shrieked from time to time, "He is dead! He is dead! He is dead!" + +Behind the woman came a boy who had a portfolio under his arm and who +was sobbing. + +"What has happened?" asked my father. A neighbor replied, that the man +was a mason who had fallen from the fourth story while at work. The +bearers of the litter halted for a moment. Many turned away their faces +in horror. I saw the schoolmistress of the red feather supporting my +mistress of the upper first, who was almost in a swoon. At the same +moment I felt a touch on the elbow; it was the little mason, who was +ghastly white and trembling from head to foot. He was certainly thinking +of his father. I was thinking of him, too. I, at least, am at peace in +my mind while I am in school: I know that my father is at home, seated +at his table, far removed from all danger; but how many of my companions +think that their fathers are at work on a very high bridge or close to +the wheels of a machine, and that a movement, a single false step, may +cost them their lives! They are like so many sons of soldiers who have +fathers in the battle. The little mason gazed and gazed, and trembled +more and more, and my father noticed it and said:-- + +"Go home, my boy; go at once to your father, and you will find him safe +and tranquil; go!" + +The little mason went off, turning round at every step. And in the +meanwhile the crowd had begun to move again, and the woman to shriek in +a way that rent the heart, "He is dead! He is dead! He is dead!" + +"No, no; he is not dead," people on all sides said to her. But she paid +no heed to them, and tore her hair. Then I heard an indignant voice say, +"You are laughing!" and at the same moment I saw a bearded man staring +in Franti's face. Then the man knocked his cap to the ground with his +stick, saying:-- + +"Uncover your head, you wicked boy, when a man wounded by labor is +passing by!" + +The crowd had already passed, and a long streak of blood was visible in +the middle of the street. + + +THE PRISONER. + + Friday, 17th. + +Ah, this is certainly the strangest event of the whole year! Yesterday +morning my father took me to the suburbs of Moncalieri, to look at a +villa which he thought of hiring for the coming summer, because we shall +not go to Chieri again this year, and it turned out that the person who +had the keys was a teacher who acts as secretary to the owner. He showed +us the house, and then he took us to his own room, where he gave us +something to drink. On his table, among the glasses, there was a wooden +inkstand, of a conical form, carved in a singular manner. Perceiving +that my father was looking at it, the teacher said:-- + +"That inkstand is very precious to me: if you only knew, sir, the +history of that inkstand!" And he told it. + +Years ago he was a teacher at Turin, and all one winter he went to give +lessons to the prisoners in the judicial prison. He gave the lessons in +the chapel of the prison, which is a circular building, and all around +it, on the high, bare walls, are a great many little square windows, +covered with two cross-bars of iron, each one of which corresponds to a +very small cell inside. He gave his lessons as he paced about the dark, +cold chapel, and his scholars stood at the holes, with their copy-books +resting against the gratings, showing nothing in the shadow but wan, +frowning faces, gray and ragged beards, staring eyes of murderers and +thieves. Among the rest there was one, No. 78, who was more attentive +than all the others, and who studied a great deal, and gazed at his +teacher with eyes full of respect and gratitude. He was a young man, +with a black beard, more unfortunate than wicked, a cabinet-maker who, +in a fit of rage, had flung a plane at his master, who had been +persecuting him for some time, and had inflicted a mortal wound on his +head: for this he had been condemned to several years of seclusion. In +three months he had learned to read and write, and he read constantly, +and the more he learned, the better he seemed to become, and the more +remorseful for his crime. One day, at the conclusion of the lesson, he +made a sign to the teacher that he should come near to his little +window, and he announced to him that he was to leave Turin on the +following day, to go and expiate his crime in the prison at Venice; and +as he bade him farewell, he begged in a humble and much moved voice, +that he might be allowed to touch the master's hand. The master offered +him his hand, and he kissed it; then he said:-- + +"Thanks! thanks!" and disappeared. The master drew back his hand; it was +bathed with tears. After that he did not see the man again. + +Six years passed. "I was thinking of anything except that unfortunate +man," said the teacher, "when, the other morning, I saw a stranger come +to the house, a man with a large black beard already sprinkled with +gray, and badly dressed, who said to me: 'Are you the teacher So-and-So, +sir?' 'Who are you?' I asked him. 'I am prisoner No. 78,' he replied; +'you taught me to read and write six years ago; if you recollect, you +gave me your hand at the last lesson; I have now expiated my crime, and +I have come hither--to beg you to do me the favor to accept a memento of +me, a poor little thing which I made in prison. Will you accept it in +memory of me, Signor Master?' + +"I stood there speechless. He thought that I did not wish to take it, +and he looked at me as much as to say, 'So six years of suffering are +not sufficient to cleanse my hands!' but with so poignant an expression +of pain did he gaze at me, that I instantly extended my hand and took +the little object. This is it." + +We looked attentively at the inkstand: it seemed to have been carved +with the point of a nail, and with, great patience; on its top was +carved a pen lying across a copy-book, and around it was written: "_To +my teacher. A memento of No. 78. Six years!_" And below, in small +letters, "_Study and hope._" + +The master said nothing more; we went away. But all the way from +Moncalieri to Turin I could not get that prisoner, standing at his +little window, that farewell to his master, that poor inkstand made in +prison, which told so much, out of my head; and I dreamed of them all +night, and was still thinking of them this morning--far enough from +imagining the surprise which awaited me at school! No sooner had I taken +my new seat, beside Derossi, and written my problem in arithmetic for +the monthly examination, than I told my companion the story of the +prisoner and the inkstand, and how the inkstand was made, with the pen +across the copy-book, and the inscription around it, "Six years!" +Derossi sprang up at these words, and began to look first at me and then +at Crossi, the son of the vegetable-vender, who sat on the bench in +front, with his back turned to us, wholly absorbed on his problem. + +"Hush!" he said; then, in a low voice, catching me by the arm, "don't +you know that Crossi spoke to me day before yesterday of having caught a +glimpse; of an inkstand in the hands of his father, who has returned +from America; a conical inkstand, made by hand, with a copy-book and a +pen,--that is the one; six years! He said that his father was in +America; instead of that he was in prison: Crossi was a little boy at +the time of the crime; he does not remember it; his mother has deceived +him; he knows nothing; let not a syllable of this escape!" + +I remained speechless, with my eyes fixed on Crossi. Then Derossi solved +his problem, and passed it under the bench to Crossi; he gave him a +sheet of paper; he took out of his hands the monthly story, _Daddy's +Nurse_, which the teacher had given him to copy out, in order that he +might copy it in his stead; he gave him pens, and stroked his shoulder, +and made me promise on my honor that I would say nothing to any one; and +when we left school, he said hastily to me:-- + +"His father came to get him yesterday; he will be here again this +morning: do as I do." + +We emerged into the street; Crossi's father was there, a little to one +side: a man with a black beard sprinkled with gray, badly dressed, with +a colorless and thoughtful face. Derossi shook Crossi's hand, in a way +to attract attention, and said to him in a loud tone, "Farewell until we +meet again, Crossi,"--and passed his hand under his chin. I did the +same. But as he did so, Derossi turned crimson, and so did I; and +Crossi's father gazed attentively at us, with a kindly glance; but +through it shone an expression of uneasiness and suspicion which made +our hearts grow cold. + + +DADDY'S NURSE. + +(_Monthly Story._) + +One morning, on a rainy day in March, a lad dressed like a country boy, +all muddy and saturated with water, with a bundle of clothes under his +arm, presented himself to the porter of the great hospital at Naples, +and, presenting a letter, asked for his father. He had a fine oval face, +of a pale brown hue, thoughtful eyes, and two thick lips, always half +open, which displayed extremely white teeth. He came from a village in +the neighborhood of Naples. His father, who had left home a year +previously to seek work in France, had returned to Italy, and had landed +a few days before at Naples, where, having fallen suddenly ill, he had +hardly time to write a line to announce his arrival to his family, and +to say that he was going to the hospital. His wife, in despair at this +news, and unable to leave home because she had a sick child, and a baby +at the breast, had sent her eldest son to Naples, with a few soldi, to +help his father--his _daddy_, as they called him: the boy had walked ten +miles. + +The porter, after glancing at the letter, called a nurse and told him to +conduct the lad to his father. + +"What father?" inquired the nurse. + +The boy, trembling with terror, lest he should hear bad news, gave the +name. + +The nurse did not recall such a name. + +"An old laborer, arrived from abroad?" he asked. + +"Yes, a laborer," replied the lad, still more uneasy; "not so very old. +Yes, arrived from abroad." + +"When did he enter the hospital?" asked the nurse. + +The lad glanced at his letter; "Five days ago, I think." + +The nurse stood a while in thought; then, as though suddenly recalling +him; "Ah!" he said, "the furthest bed in the fourth ward." + +"Is he very ill? How is he?" inquired the boy, anxiously. + +The nurse looked at him, without replying. Then he said, "Come with me." + +They ascended two flights of stairs, walked to the end of a long +corridor, and found themselves facing the open door of a large hall, +wherein two rows of beds were arranged. "Come," repeated the nurse, +entering. The boy plucked up his courage, and followed him, casting +terrified glances to right and left, on the pale, emaciated faces of the +sick people, some of whom had their eyes closed, and seemed to be dead, +while others were staring into the air, with their eyes wide open and +fixed, as though frightened. Some were moaning like children. The big +room was dark, the air was impregnated with an acute odor of medicines. +Two sisters of charity were going about with phials in their hands. + +Arrived at the extremity of the great room, the nurse halted at the head +of a bed, drew aside the curtains, and said, "Here is your father." + +The boy burst into tears, and letting fall his bundle, he dropped his +head on the sick man's shoulder, clasping with one hand the arm which +was lying motionless on the coverlet. The sick man did not move. + +The boy rose to his feet, and looked at his father, and broke into a +fresh fit of weeping. Then the sick man gave a long look at him, and +seemed to recognize him; but his lips did not move. Poor daddy, how he +was changed! The son would never have recognized him. His hair had +turned white, his beard had grown, his face was swollen, of a dull red +hue, with the skin tightly drawn and shining; his eyes were diminished +in size, his lips very thick, his whole countenance altered. There was +no longer anything natural about him but his forehead and the arch of +his eyebrows. He breathed with difficulty. + +"Daddy! daddy!" said the boy, "it is I; don't you know me? I am Cicillo, +your own Cicillo, who has come from the country: mamma has sent me. Take +a good look at me; don't you know me? Say one word to me." + +But the sick man, after having looked attentively at him, closed his +eyes. + +"Daddy! daddy! What is the matter with you? I am your little son--your +own Cicillo." + +The sick man made no movement, and continued to breathe painfully. + +Then the lad, still weeping, took a chair, seated himself and waited, +without taking his eyes from his father's face. "A doctor will surely +come to pay him a visit," he thought; "he will tell me something." And +he became immersed in sad thoughts, recalling many things about his kind +father, the day of parting, when he said the last good by to him on +board the ship, the hopes which his family had founded on his journey, +the desolation of his mother on the arrival of the letter; and he +thought of death: he beheld his father dead, his mother dressed in +black, the family in misery. And he remained a long time thus. A light +hand touched him on the shoulder, and he started up: it was a nun. + +"What is the matter with my father?" he asked her quickly. + +"Is he your father?" said the sister gently. + +"Yes, he is my father; I have come. What ails him?" + +"Courage, my boy," replied the sister; "the doctor will be here soon +now." And she went away without saying anything more. + +Half an hour later he heard the sound of a bell, and he saw the doctor +enter at the further end of the hall, accompanied by an assistant; the +sister and a nurse followed him. They began the visit, pausing at every +bed. This time of waiting seemed an eternity to the lad, and his anxiety +increased at every step of the doctor. At length they arrived at the +next bed. The doctor was an old man, tall and stooping, with a grave +face. Before he left the next bed the boy rose to his feet, and when he +approached he began to cry. + +The doctor looked at him. + +"He is the sick man's son," said the sister; "he arrived this morning +from the country." + +The doctor placed one hand on his shoulder; then bent over the sick man, +felt his pulse, touched his forehead, and asked a few questions of the +sister, who replied, "There is nothing new." Then he thought for a while +and said, "Continue the present treatment." + +Then the boy plucked up courage, and asked in a tearful voice, "What is +the matter with my father?" + +"Take courage, my boy," replied the doctor, laying his hand on his +shoulder once more; "he has erysipelas in his face. It is a serious +case, but there is still hope. Help him. Your presence may do him a +great deal of good." + +"But he does not know me!" exclaimed the boy in a tone of affliction. + +"He will recognize you--to-morrow perhaps. Let us hope for the best and +keep up our courage." + +The boy would have liked to ask some more questions, but he did not +dare. The doctor passed on. And then he began his life of nurse. As he +could do nothing else, he arranged the coverlets of the sick man, +touched his hand every now and then, drove away the flies, bent over him +at every groan, and when the sister brought him something to drink, he +took the glass or the spoon from her hand, and administered it in her +stead. The sick man looked at him occasionally, but he gave no sign of +recognition. However, his glance rested longer on the lad each time, +especially when the latter put his handkerchief to his eyes. + +Thus passed the first day. At night the boy slept on two chairs, in a +corner of the ward, and in the morning he resumed his work of mercy. +That day it seemed as though the eyes of the sick man revealed a dawning +of consciousness. At the sound of the boy's caressing voice a vague +expression of gratitude seemed to gleam for an instant in his pupils, +and once he moved his lips a little, as though he wanted to say +something. After each brief nap he seemed, on opening his eyes, to seek +his little nurse. The doctor, who had passed twice, thought he noted a +slight improvement. Towards evening, on putting the cup to his lips, the +lad fancied that he perceived a very faint smile glide across the +swollen lips. Then he began to take comfort and to hope; and with the +hope of being understood, confusedly at least, he talked to him--talked +to him at great length--of his mother, of his little sisters, of his own +return home, and he exhorted him to courage with warm and loving words. +And although he often doubted whether he was heard, he still talked; for +it seemed to him that even if he did not understand him, the sick man +listened with a certain pleasure to his voice,--to that unaccustomed +intonation of affection and sorrow. And in this manner passed the second +day, and the third, and the fourth, with vicissitudes of slight +improvements and unexpected changes for the worse; and the boy was so +absorbed in all his cares, that he hardly nibbled a bit of bread and +cheese twice a day, when the sister brought it to him, and hardly saw +what was going on around him,--the dying patients, the sudden running up +of the sisters at night, the moans and despairing gestures of +visitors,--all those doleful and lugubrious scenes of hospital life, +which on any other occasion would have disconcerted and alarmed him. +Hours, days, passed, and still he was there with his daddy; watchful, +wistful, trembling at every sigh and at every look, agitated incessantly +between a hope which relieved his mind and a discouragement which froze +his heart. + +On the fifth day the sick man suddenly grew worse. The doctor, on being +interrogated, shook his head, as much as to say that all was over, and +the boy flung himself on a chair and burst out sobbing. But one thing +comforted him. In spite of the fact that he was worse, the sick man +seemed to be slowly regaining a little intelligence. He stared at the +lad with increasing intentness, and, with an expression which grew in +sweetness, would take his drink and medicine from no one but him, and +made strenuous efforts with his lips with greater frequency, as though +he were trying to pronounce some word; and he did it so plainly +sometimes that his son grasped his arm violently, inspired by a sudden +hope, and said to him in a tone which was almost that of joy, "Courage, +courage, daddy; you will get well, we will go away from here, we will +return home with mamma; courage, for a little while longer!" + +It was four o'clock in the afternoon, and just when the boy had +abandoned himself to one of these outbursts of tenderness and hope, when +a sound of footsteps became audible outside the nearest door in the +ward, and then a strong voice uttering two words only,--"Farewell, +sister!"--which made him spring to his feet, with a cry repressed in his +throat. + +At that moment there entered the ward a man with a thick bandage on his +hand, followed by a sister. + +The boy uttered a sharp cry, and stood rooted to the spot. + +The man turned round, looked at him for a moment, and uttered a cry in +his turn,--"Cicillo!"--and darted towards him. + +The boy fell into his father's arms, choking with emotion. + +The sister, the nurse, and the assistant ran up, and stood there in +amazement. + +The boy could not recover his voice. + +"Oh, my Cicillo!" exclaimed the father, after bestowing an attentive +look on the sick man, as he kissed the boy repeatedly. "Cicillo, my son, +how is this? They took you to the bedside of another man. And there was +I, in despair at not seeing you after mamma had written, 'I have sent +him.' Poor Cicillo! How many days have you been here? How did this +mistake occur? I have come out of it easily! I have a good constitution, +you know! And how is mamma? And Concettella? And the little baby--how +are they all? I am leaving the hospital now. Come, then. Oh, Lord God! +Who would have thought it!" + +The boy tried to interpolate a few words, to tell the news of the +family. "Oh how happy I am!" he stammered. "How happy I am! What +terrible days I have passed!" And he could not finish kissing his +father. + +But he did not stir. + +"Come," said his father; "we can get home this evening." And he drew the +lad towards him. The boy turned to look at his patient. + +"Well, are you coming or not?" his father demanded, in amazement. + +The boy cast yet another glance at the sick man, who opened his eyes at +that moment and gazed intently at him. + +Then a flood of words poured from his very soul. "No, daddy; +wait--here--I can't. Here is this old man. I have been here for five +days. He gazes at me incessantly. I thought he was you. I love him +dearly. He looks at me; I give him his drink; he wants me always beside +him; he is very ill now. Have patience; I have not the courage--I don't +know--it pains me too much; I will return home to-morrow; let me stay +here a little longer; I don't at all like to leave him. See how he looks +at me! I don't know who he is, but he wants me; he will die alone: let +me stay here, dear daddy!" + +"Bravo, little fellow!" exclaimed the attendant. + +The father stood in perplexity, staring at the boy; then he looked at +the sick man. "Who is he?" he inquired. + +"A countryman, like yourself," replied the attendant, "just arrived from +abroad, and who entered the hospital on the very day that you entered +it. He was out of his senses when they brought him here, and could not +speak. Perhaps he has a family far away, and sons. He probably thinks +that your son is one of his." + +The sick man was still looking at the boy. + +The father said to Cicillo, "Stay." + +"He will not have to stay much longer," murmured the attendant. + +"Stay," repeated his father: "you have heart. I will go home +immediately, to relieve mamma's distress. Here is a scudo for your +expenses. Good by, my brave little son, until we meet!" + +He embraced him, looked at him intently, kissed him again on the brow, +and went away. + +The boy returned to his post at the bedside, and the sick man appeared +consoled. And Cicillo began again to play the nurse, no longer weeping, +but with the same eagerness, the same patience, as before; he again +began to give the man his drink, to arrange his bedclothes, to caress +his hand, to speak softly to him, to exhort him to courage. He attended +him all that day, all that night; he remained beside him all the +following day. But the sick man continued to grow constantly worse; his +face turned a purple color, his breathing grew heavier, his agitation +increased, inarticulate cries escaped his lips, the inflammation became +excessive. On his evening visit, the doctor said that he would not live +through the night. And then Cicillo redoubled his cares, and never took +his eyes from him for a minute. The sick man gazed and gazed at him, and +kept moving his lips from time to time, with great effort, as though he +wanted to say something, and an expression of extraordinary tenderness +passed over his eyes now and then, as they continued to grow smaller and +more dim. And that night the boy watched with him until he saw the first +rays of dawn gleam white through the windows, and the sister appeared. +The sister approached the bed, cast a glance at the patient, and then +went away with rapid steps. A few moments later she reappeared with the +assistant doctor, and with a nurse, who carried a lantern. + +"He is at his last gasp," said the doctor. + +The boy clasped the sick man's hand. The latter opened his eyes, gazed +at him, and closed them once more. + +At that moment the lad fancied that he felt his hand pressed. "He +pressed my hand!" he exclaimed. + +The doctor bent over the patient for an instant, then straightened +himself up. + +The sister detached a crucifix from the wall. + +"He is dead!" cried the boy. + +"Go, my son," said the doctor: "your work of mercy is finished. Go, and +may fortune attend you! for you deserve it. God will protect you. +Farewell!" + +The sister, who had stepped aside for a moment, returned with a little +bunch of violets which she had taken from a glass on the window-sill, +and handed them to the boy, saying:-- + +"I have nothing else to give you. Take these in memory of the hospital." + +"Thanks," returned the boy, taking the bunch of flowers with one hand +and drying his eyes with the other; "but I have such a long distance to +go on foot--I shall spoil them." And separating the violets, he +scattered them over the bed, saying: "I leave them as a memento for my +poor dead man. Thanks, sister! thanks, doctor!" Then, turning to the +dead man, "Farewell--" And while he sought a name to give him, the sweet +name which he had applied to him for five days recurred to his +lips,--"Farewell, poor daddy!" + +So saying, he took his little bundle of clothes under his arm, and, +exhausted with fatigue, he walked slowly away. The day was dawning. + + +THE WORKSHOP. + + Saturday, 18th. + +Precossi came last night to remind me that I was to go and see his +workshop, which is down the street, and this morning when I went out +with my father, I got him to take me there for a moment. As we +approached the shop, Garoffi issued from it on a run, with a package in +his hand, and making his big cloak, with which he covers up his +merchandise, flutter. Ah! now I know where he goes to pilfer iron +filings, which he sells for old papers, that barterer of a Garoffi! When +we arrived in front of the door, we saw Precossi seated on a little +pile of bricks, engaged in studying his lesson, with his book resting on +his knees. He rose quickly and invited us to enter. It was a large +apartment, full of coal-dust, bristling with hammers, pincers, bars, and +old iron of every description; and in one corner burned a fire in a +small furnace, where puffed a pair of bellows worked by a boy. Precossi, +the father, was standing near the anvil, and a young man was holding a +bar of iron in the fire. + +"Ah! here he is," said the smith, as soon as he caught sight of us, and +he lifted his cap, "the nice boy who gives away railway trains! He has +come to see me work a little, has he not? I shall be at your service in +a moment." And as he said it, he smiled; and he no longer had the +ferocious face, the malevolent eyes of former days. The young man handed +him a long bar of iron heated red-hot on one end, and the smith placed +it on the anvil. He was making one of those curved bars for the rail of +terrace balustrades. He raised a large hammer and began to beat it, +pushing the heated part now here, now there, between one point of the +anvil and the middle, and turning it about in various ways; and it was a +marvel to see how the iron curved beneath the rapid and accurate blows +of the hammer, and twisted, and gradually assumed the graceful form of a +leaf torn from a flower, like a pipe of dough which he had modelled with +his hands. And meanwhile his son watched us with a certain air of pride, +as much as to say, "See how my father works!" + +"Do you see how it is done, little master?" the blacksmith asked me, +when he had finished, holding out the bar, which looked like a bishop's +crosier. Then he laid it aside, and thrust another into the fire. + +"That was very well made, indeed," my father said to him. And he added, +"So you are working--eh! You have returned to good habits?" + +"Yes, I have returned," replied the workman, wiping away the +perspiration, and reddening a little. "And do you know who has made me +return to them?" My father pretended not to understand. "This brave +boy," said the blacksmith, indicating his son with his finger; "that +brave boy there, who studied and did honor to his father, while his +father rioted, and treated him like a dog. When I saw that medal--Ah! +thou little lad of mine, no bigger than a soldo[1] of cheese, come +hither, that I may take a good look at thy phiz!" + + [1] The twentieth part of a cubit; Florentine measure. + +The boy ran to him instantly; the smith took him and set him directly on +the anvil, holding him under the arms, and said to him:-- + +"Polish off the frontispiece of this big beast of a daddy of yours a +little!" + +And then Precossi covered his father's black face with kisses, until he +was all black himself. + +"That's as it should be," said the smith, and he set him on the ground +again. + +"That really is as it should be, Precossi!" exclaimed my father, +delighted. And bidding the smith and his son good day, he led me away. +As I was going out, little Precossi said to me, "Excuse me," and thrust +a little packet of nails into my pocket. I invited him to come and view +the Carnival from my house. + +"You gave him your railway train," my father said to me in the street; +"but if it had been made of gold and filled with pearls, it would still +have been but a petty gift to that sainted son, who has reformed his +father's heart." + + +THE LITTLE HARLEQUIN. + + Monday, 20th. + +The whole city is in a tumult over the Carnival, which is nearing its +close. In every square rise booths of mountebanks and jesters; and we +have under our windows a circus-tent, in which a little Venetian +company, with five horses, is giving a show. The circus is in the centre +of the square; and in one corner there are three very large vans in +which the mountebanks sleep and dress themselves,--three small houses on +wheels, with their tiny windows, and a chimney in each of them, which +smokes continually; and between window and window the baby's +swaddling-bands are stretched. There is one woman who is nursing a +child, who prepares the food, and dances on the tight-rope. Poor people! +The word _mountebank_ is spoken as though it were an insult; but they +earn their living honestly, nevertheless, by amusing all the world--and +how they work! All day long they run back and forth between the +circus-tent and the vans, in tights, in all this cold; they snatch a +mouthful or two in haste, standing, between two performances; and +sometimes, when they get their tent full, a wind arises, wrenches away +the ropes and extinguishes the lights, and then good by to the show! +They are obliged to return the money, and to work the entire night at +repairing their booth. There are two lads who work; and my father +recognized the smallest one as he was traversing the square; and he is +the son of the proprietor, the same one whom we saw perform tricks on +horseback last year in a circus on the Piazza Vittorio Emanuele. And he +has grown; he must be eight years old: he is a handsome boy, with a +round and roguish face, with so many black curls that they escape from +his pointed cap. He is dressed up like a harlequin, decked out in a sort +of sack, with sleeves of white, embroidered with black, and his slippers +are of cloth. He is a merry little imp. He charms every one. He does +everything. We see him early in the morning, wrapped in a shawl, +carrying milk to his wooden house; then he goes to get the horses at the +boarding-stable on the Via Bertola. He holds the tiny baby in his arms; +he transports hoops, trestles, rails, ropes; he cleans the vans, lights +the fire, and in his leisure moments he always hangs about his mother. +My father is always watching him from the window, and does nothing but +talk about him and his family, who have the air of nice people, and of +being fond of their children. + +One evening we went to the circus: it was cold; there was hardly any one +there; but the little harlequin exerted himself greatly to cheer those +few people: he executed precarious leaps; he caught hold of the horses' +tails; he walked with his legs in the air, all alone; he sang, always +with a smile constantly on his handsome little brown face. And his +father, who had on a red vest and white trousers, with tall boots, and a +whip in his hand, watched him: but it was melancholy. My father took +pity on him, and spoke of him on the following day to Delis the painter, +who came to see us. These poor people were killing themselves with hard +work, and their affairs were going so badly! The little boy pleased him +so much! What could be done for them? The painter had an idea. + +"Write a fine article for the _Gazette_," he said: "you know how to +write well: relate the miraculous things which the little harlequin +does, and I will take his portrait for you. Everybody reads the +_Gazette_, and people will flock thither for once." + +And thus they did. My father wrote a fine article, full of jests, which +told all that we had observed from the window, and inspired a desire to +see and caress the little artist; and the painter sketched a little +portrait which was graceful and a good likeness, and which was published +on Saturday evening. And behold! at the Sunday performance a great crowd +rushed to the circus. The announcement was made: _Performance for the +Benefit of the Little Harlequin_, as he was styled in the _Gazette_. The +circus was crammed; many of the spectators held the _Gazette_ in their +hands, and showed it to the little harlequin, who laughed and ran from +one to another, perfectly delighted. The proprietor was delighted also. +Just fancy! Not a single newspaper had ever done him such an honor, and +the money-box was filled. My father sat beside me. Among the spectators +we found persons of our acquaintance. Near the entrance for the horses +stood the teacher of gymnastics--the one who has been with Garibaldi; +and opposite us, in the second row, was the little mason, with his +little round face, seated beside his gigantic father; and no sooner did +he catch sight of me than he made a hare's face at me. A little further +on I espied Garoffi, who was counting the spectators, and calculated on +his fingers how much money the company had taken in. On one of the +chairs in the first row, not far from us, there was also poor Robetti, +the boy who saved the child from the omnibus, with his crutches between +his knees, pressed close to the side of his father, the artillery +captain, who kept one hand on his shoulder. The performance began. The +little harlequin accomplished wonders on his horse, on the trapeze, on +the tight-rope; and every time that he jumped down, every one clapped +their hands, and many pulled his curls. Then several others, +rope-dancers, jugglers, and riders, clad in tights, and sparkling with +silver, went through their exercises; but when the boy was not +performing, the audience seemed to grow weary. At a certain point I saw +the teacher of gymnastics, who held his post at the entrance for the +horses, whisper in the ear of the proprietor of the circus, and the +latter instantly glanced around, as though in search of some one. His +glance rested on us. My father perceived it, and understood that the +teacher had revealed that he was the author of the article, and in order +to escape being thanked, he hastily retreated, saying to me:-- + +"Remain, Enrico; I will wait for you outside." + +After exchanging a few words with his father, the little harlequin went +through still another trick: erect upon a galloping horse, he appeared +in four characters--as a pilgrim, a sailor, a soldier, and an acrobat; +and every time that he passed near me, he looked at me. And when he +dismounted, he began to make the tour of the circus, with his +harlequin's cap in his hand, and everybody threw soldi or sugar-plums +into it. I had two soldi ready; but when he got in front of me, instead +of offering his cap, he drew it back, gave me a look and passed on. I +was mortified. Why had he offered me that affront? + +The performance came to an end; the proprietor thanked the audience; and +all the people rose also, and thronged to the doors. I was confused by +the crowd, and was on the point of going out, when I felt a touch on my +hand. I turned round: it was the little harlequin, with his tiny brown +face and his black curls, who was smiling at me; he had his hands full +of sugar-plums. Then I understood. + +"Will you accept these sugar-plums from the little harlequin?" said he +to me, in his dialect. + +I nodded, and took three or four. + +"Then," he added, "please accept a kiss also." + +"Give me two," I answered; and held up my face to him. He rubbed off his +floury face with his hand, put his arm round my neck, and planted two +kisses on my cheek, saying:-- + +"There! take one of them to your father." + + +THE LAST DAY OF THE CARNIVAL. + + Tuesday, 21st. + +What a sad scene was that which we witnessed to-day at the procession of +the masks! It ended well; but it might have resulted in a great +misfortune. In the San Carlo Square, all decorated with red, white, and +yellow festoons, a vast multitude had assembled; masks of every hue were +flitting about; cars, gilded and adorned, in the shape of pavilions; +little theatres, barks filled with harlequins and warriors, cooks, +sailors, and shepherdesses; there was such a confusion that one knew not +where to look; a tremendous clash of trumpets, horns, and cymbals +lacerated the ears; and the masks on the chariots drank and sang, as +they apostrophized the people in the streets and at the windows, who +retorted at the top of their lungs, and hurled oranges and sugar-plums +at each other vigorously; and above the chariots and the throng, as far +as the eye could reach, one could see banners fluttering, helmets +gleaming, plumes waving, gigantic pasteboard heads moving, huge +head-dresses, enormous trumpets, fantastic arms, little drums, +castanets, red caps, and bottles;--all the world seemed to have gone +mad. When our carriage entered the square, a magnificent chariot was +driving in front of us, drawn by four horses covered with trappings +embroidered in gold, and all wreathed in artificial roses, upon which +there were fourteen or fifteen gentlemen masquerading as gentlemen at +the court of France, all glittering with silk, with huge white wigs, a +plumed hat, under the arm a small-sword, and a tuft of ribbons and laces +on the breast. They were very gorgeous. They were singing a French +canzonette in concert and throwing sweetmeats to the people, and the +people clapped their hands and shouted. Suddenly, on our left, we saw a +man lift a child of five or six above the heads of the crowd,--a poor +little creature, who wept piteously, and flung her arms about as though +in a fit of convulsions. The man made his way to the gentlemen's +chariot; one of the latter bent down, and the other said aloud:-- + +"Take this child; she has lost her mother in the crowd; hold her in your +arms; the mother may not be far off, and she will catch sight of her: +there is no other way." + +The gentleman took the child in his arms: all the rest stopped singing; +the child screamed and struggled; the gentleman removed his mask; the +chariot continued to move slowly onwards. Meanwhile, as we were +afterwards informed, at the opposite extremity of the square a poor +woman, half crazed with despair, was forcing her way through the crowd, +by dint of shoves and elbowing, and shrieking:-- + +"Maria! Maria! Maria! I have lost my little daughter! She has been +stolen from me! They have suffocated my child!" And for a quarter of an +hour she raved and expressed her despair in this manner, straying now a +little way in this direction, and then a little way in that, crushed by +the throng through which she strove to force her way. + +The gentleman on the car was meanwhile holding the child pressed against +the ribbons and laces on his breast, casting glances over the square, +and trying to calm the poor creature, who covered her face with her +hands, not knowing where she was, and sobbed as though she would break +her heart. The gentleman was touched: it was evident that these screams +went to his soul. All the others offered the child oranges and +sugar-plums; but she repulsed them all, and grew constantly more +convulsed and frightened. + +"Find her mother!" shouted the gentleman to the crowd; "seek her +mother!" And every one turned to the right and the left; but the mother +was not to be found. Finally, a few paces from the place where the Via +Roma enters the square, a woman was seen to rush towards the chariot. +Ah, I shall never forget that! She no longer seemed a human creature: +her hair was streaming, her face distorted, her garments torn; she +hurled herself forward with a rattle in her throat,--one knew not +whether to attribute it to either joy, anguish, or rage,--and darted out +her hands like two claws to snatch her child. The chariot halted. + +"Here she is," said the gentleman, reaching out the child after kissing +it; and he placed her in her mother's arms, who pressed her to her +breast like a fury. But one of the tiny hands rested a second longer in +the hands of the gentleman; and the latter, pulling off of his right +hand a gold ring set with a large diamond, and slipping it with a rapid +movement upon the finger of the little girl, said:-- + +"Take this; it shall be your marriage dowry." + +The mother stood rooted to the spot, as though enchanted; the crowd +broke into applause; the gentleman put on his mask again, his companions +resumed their song, and the chariot started on again slowly, amid a +tempest of hand-clapping and hurrahs. + + +THE BLIND BOYS. + + Thursday, 24th. + +The master is very ill, and they have sent in his stead the master of +the fourth grade, who has been a teacher in the Institute for the Blind. +He is the oldest of all the instructors, with hair so white that it +looks like a wig made of cotton, and he speaks in a peculiar manner, as +though he were chanting a melancholy song; but he does it well, and he +knows a great deal. No sooner had he entered the schoolroom than, +catching sight of a boy with a bandage on his eye, he approached the +bench, and asked him what was the matter. + +"Take care of your eyes, my boy," he said to him. And then Derossi asked +him:-- + +"Is it true, sir, that you have been a teacher of the blind?" + +"Yes, for several years," he replied. And Derossi said, in a low tone, +"Tell us something about it." + +The master went and seated himself at his table. + +Coretti said aloud, "The Institute for the Blind is in the Via Nizza." + +"You say blind--blind," said the master, "as you would say poor or ill, +or I know not what. But do you thoroughly comprehend the significance of +that word? Reflect a little. Blind! Never to see anything! Not to be +able to distinguish the day from night; to see neither the sky, nor sun, +nor your parents, nor anything of what is around you, and which you +touch; to be immersed in a perpetual obscurity, and as though buried in +the bowels of the earth! Make a little effort to close your eyes, and to +think of being obliged to remain forever thus; you will suddenly be +overwhelmed by a mental agony, by terror; it will seem to you impossible +to resist, that you must burst into a scream, that you must go mad or +die. But, poor boys! when you enter the Institute of the Blind for the +first time, during their recreation hour, and hear them playing on +violins and flutes in all directions, and talking loudly and laughing, +ascending and descending the stairs at a rapid pace, and wandering +freely through the corridors and dormitories, you would never pronounce +these unfortunates to be the unfortunates that they are. It is necessary +to observe them closely. There are lads of sixteen or eighteen, robust +and cheerful, who bear their blindness with a certain ease, almost with +hardihood; but you understand from a certain proud, resentful expression +of countenance that they must have suffered tremendously before they +became resigned to this misfortune. + +"There are others, with sweet and pallid faces, on which a profound +resignation is visible; but they are sad, and one understands that they +must still weep at times in secret. Ah, my sons! reflect that some of +them have lost their sight in a few days, some after years of martyrdom +and many terrible chirurgical operations, and that many were born +so,--born into a night that has no dawn for them, that they entered +into the world as into an immense tomb, and that they do not know what +the human countenance is like. Picture to yourself how they must have +suffered, and how they must still suffer, when they think thus +confusedly of the tremendous difference between themselves and those who +see, and ask themselves, 'Why this difference, if we are not to blame?' + +"I who have spent many years among them, when I recall that class, all +those eyes forever sealed, all those pupils without sight and without +life, and then look at the rest of you, it seems impossible to me that +you should not all be happy. Think of it! there are about twenty-six +thousand blind persons in Italy! Twenty-six thousand persons who do not +see the light--do you understand? An army which would employ four hours +in marching past our windows." + +The master paused. Not a breath was audible in all the school. Derossi +asked if it were true that the blind have a finer sense of feeling than +the rest of us. + +The master said: "It is true. All the other senses are finer in them, +because, since they must replace, among them, that of sight, they are +more and better exercised than they are in the case of those who see. In +the morning, in the dormitory, one asks another, 'Is the sun shining?' +and the one who is the most alert in dressing runs instantly into the +yard, and flourishes his hands in the air, to find out whether there is +any warmth of the sun perceptible, and then he runs to communicate the +good news, 'The sun is shining!' From the voice of a person they obtain +an idea of his height. We judge of a man's soul by his eyes; they, by +his voice. They remember intonations and accents for years. They +perceive if there is more than one person in a room, even if only one +speaks, and the rest remain motionless. They know by their touch whether +a spoon is more or less polished. Little girls distinguish dyed wools +from that which is of the natural color. As they walk two and two along +the streets, they recognize nearly all the shops by their odors, even +those in which we perceive no odor. They spin top, and by listening to +its humming they go straight to it and pick it up without any mistake. +They trundle hoop, play at ninepins, jump the rope, build little houses +of stones, pick violets as though they saw them, make mats and baskets, +weaving together straw of various colors rapidly and well--to such a +degree is their sense of touch skilled. The sense of touch is their +sight. One of their greatest pleasures is to handle, to grasp, to guess +the forms of things by feeling them. It is affecting to see them when +they are taken to the Industrial Museum, where they are allowed to +handle whatever they please, and to observe with what eagerness they +fling themselves on geometrical bodies, on little models of houses, on +instruments; with what joy they feel over and rub and turn everything +about in their hands, in order to see how it is made. They call this +_seeing_!" + +Garoffi interrupted the teacher to inquire if it was true that blind +boys learn to reckon better than others. + +The master replied: "It is true. They learn to reckon and to write. They +have books made on purpose for them, with raised characters; they pass +their fingers over these, recognize the letters and pronounce the words. +They read rapidly; and you should see them blush, poor little things, +when they make a mistake. And they write, too, without ink. They write +on a thick and hard sort of paper with a metal bodkin, which makes a +great many little hollows, grouped according to a special alphabet; +these little punctures stand out in relief on the other side of the +paper, so that by turning the paper over and drawing their fingers +across these projections, they can read what they have written, and also +the writing of others; and thus they write compositions: and they write +letters to each other. They write numbers in the same way, and they make +calculations; and they calculate mentally with an incredible facility, +since their minds are not diverted by the sight of surrounding objects, +as ours are. And if you could see how passionately fond they are of +reading, how attentive they are, how well they remember everything, how +they discuss among themselves, even the little ones, of things connected +with history and language, as they sit four or five on the same bench, +without turning to each other, and converse, the first with the third, +the second with the fourth, in a loud voice and all together, without +losing a single word, so acute and prompt is their hearing. + +"And they attach more importance to the examinations than you do, I +assure you, and they are fonder of their teachers. They recognize their +teacher by his step and his odor; they perceive whether he is in a good +or bad humor, whether he is well or ill, simply by the sound of a single +word of his. They want the teacher to touch them when he encourages and +praises them, and they feel of his hand and his arms in order to express +their gratitude. And they love each other and are good comrades to each +other. In play time they are always together, according to their wont. +In the girls' school, for instance, they form into groups according to +the instrument on which they play,--violinists, pianists, and +flute-players,--and they never separate. When they have become attached +to any one, it is difficult for them to break it off. They take much +comfort in friendship. They judge correctly among themselves. They have +a clear and profound idea of good and evil. No one grows so enthusiastic +as they over the narration of a generous action, of a grand deed." + +Votini inquired if they played well. + +"They are ardently fond of music," replied the master. "It is their +delight: music is their life. Little blind children, when they first +enter the Institute, are capable of standing three hours perfectly +motionless, to listen to playing. They learn easily; they play with +fire. When the teacher tells one of them that he has not a talent for +music, he feels very sorrowful, but he sets to studying desperately. Ah! +if you could hear the music there, if you could see them when they are +playing, with their heads thrown back a smile on their lips, their faces +aflame, trembling with emotion, in ecstasies at listening to that +harmony which replies to them in the obscurity which envelops them, you +would feel what a divine consolation is music! And they shout for joy, +they beam with happiness when a teacher says to them, "You will become +an artist." The one who is first in music, who succeeds the best on the +violin or piano, is like a king to them; they love, they venerate him. +If a quarrel arises between two of them, they go to him; if two friends +fall out, it is he who reconciles them. The smallest pupils, whom he +teaches to play, regard him as a father. Then all go to bid him good +night before retiring to bed. And they talk constantly of music. They +are already in bed, late at night, wearied by study and work, and half +asleep, and still they are discussing, in a low tone, operas, masters, +instruments, and orchestras. It is so great a punishment for them to be +deprived of the reading, or lesson in music, it causes them such sorrow +that one hardly ever has the courage to punish them in that way. That +which the light is to our eyes, music is to their hearts." + +Derossi asked whether we could not go to see them. + +"Yes," replied the teacher; "but you boys must not go there now. You +shall go there later on, when you are in a condition to appreciate the +whole extent of this misfortune, and to feel all the compassion which it +merits. It is a sad sight, my boys. You will sometimes see there boys +seated in front of an open window, enjoying the fresh air, with +immovable countenances, which seem to be gazing at the wide green +expanse and the beautiful blue mountains which you can see; and when you +remember that they see nothing--that they will never see anything--of +that vast loveliness, your soul is oppressed, as though you had +yourselves become blind at that moment. And then there are those who +were born blind, who, as they have never seen the world, do not complain +because they do not possess the image of anything, and who, therefore, +arouse less compassion. But there are lads who have been blind but a few +months, who still recall everything, who thoroughly understand all that +they have lost; and these have, in addition, the grief of feeling their +minds obscured, the dearest images grow a little more dim in their minds +day by day, of feeling the persons whom they have loved the most die out +of their memories. One of these boys said to me one day, with +inexpressible sadness, 'I should like to have my sight again, only for a +moment, in order to see mamma's face once more, for I no longer +remember it!' And when their mothers come to see them, the boys place +their hands on her face; they feel her over thoroughly from brow to +chin, and her ears, to see how they are made, and they can hardly +persuade themselves that they cannot see her, and they call her by name +many times, to beseech her that she will allow them, that she will make +them see her just once. How many, even hard-hearted men, go away in +tears! And when you do go out, your case seems to you to be the +exception, and the power to see people, houses, and the sky a hardly +deserved privilege. Oh! there is not one of you, I am sure, who, on +emerging thence, would not feel disposed to deprive himself of a portion +of his own sight, in order to bestow a gleam at least upon all those +poor children, for whom the sun has no light, for whom a mother has no +face!" + + +THE SICK MASTER. + + Saturday, 25th. + +Yesterday afternoon, on coming out of school, I went to pay a visit to +my sick master. He made himself ill by overworking. Five hours of +teaching a day, then an hour of gymnastics, then two hours more of +evening school, which is equivalent to saying but little sleep, getting +his food by snatches, and working breathlessly from morning till night. +He has ruined his health. That is what my mother says. My mother was +waiting for me at the big door; I came out alone, and on the stairs I +met the teacher with the black beard--Coatti,--the one who frightens +every one and punishes no one. He stared at me with wide-open eyes, and +made his voice like that of a lion, in jest, but without laughing. I +was still laughing when I pulled the bell on the fourth floor; but I +ceased very suddenly when the servant let me into a wretched, +half-lighted room, where my teacher was in bed. He was lying in a little +iron bed. His beard was long. He put one hand to his brow in order to +see better, and exclaimed in his affectionate voice:-- + +"Oh, Enrico!" + +I approached the bed; he laid one hand on my shoulder and said:-- + +"Good, my boy. You have done well to come and see your poor teacher. I +am reduced to a sad state, as you see, my dear Enrico. And how fares the +school? How are your comrades getting along? All well, eh? Even without +me? You do very well without your old master, do you not?" + +I was on the point of saying "no"; he interrupted me. + +"Come, come, I know that you do not hate me!" and he heaved a sigh. + +I glanced at some photographs fastened to the wall. + +"Do you see?" he said to me. "All of them are of boys who gave me their +photographs more than twenty years ago. They were good boys. These are +my souvenirs. When I die, my last glance will be at them; at those +roguish urchins among whom my life has been passed. You will give me +your portrait, also, will you not, when you have finished the elementary +course?" Then he took an orange from his nightstand, and put it in my +hand. + +"I have nothing else to give you," he said; "it is the gift of a sick +man." + +I looked at it, and my heart was sad; I know not why. + +"Attend to me," he began again. "I hope to get over this; but if I +should not recover, see that you strengthen yourself in arithmetic, +which is your weak point; make an effort. It is merely a question of a +first effort: because sometimes there is no lack of aptitude; there is +merely an absence of a fixed purpose--of stability, as it is called." + +But in the meantime he was breathing hard; and it was evident that he +was suffering. + +"I am feverish," he sighed; "I am half gone; I beseech you, therefore, +apply yourself to arithmetic, to problems. If you don't succeed at +first, rest a little and begin afresh. And press forward, but quietly +without fagging yourself, without straining your mind. Go! My respects +to your mamma. And do not mount these stairs again. We shall see each +other again in school. And if we do not, you must now and then call to +mind your master of the third grade, who was fond of you." + +I felt inclined to cry at these words. + +"Bend down your head," he said to me. + +I bent my head to his pillow; he kissed my hair. Then he said to me, +"Go!" and turned his face towards the wall. And I flew down the stairs; +for I longed to embrace my mother. + + +THE STREET. + + Saturday, 25th. + + I was watching you from the window this afternoon, when you were on + your way home from the master's; you came in collision with a + woman. Take more heed to your manner of walking in the street. + There are duties to be fulfilled even there. If you keep your steps + and gestures within bounds in a private house, why should you not + do the same in the street, which is everybody's house. Remember + this, Enrico. Every time that you meet a feeble old man, a poor + person, a woman with a child in her arms, a cripple with his + crutches, a man bending beneath a burden, a family dressed in + mourning, make way for them respectfully. We must respect age, + misery, maternal love, infirmity, labor, death. Whenever you see a + person on the point of being run down by a vehicle, drag him away, + if it is a child; warn him, if he is a man; always ask what ails + the child who is crying all alone; pick up the aged man's cane, + when he lets it fall. If two boys are fighting, separate them; if + it is two men, go away: do not look on a scene of brutal violence, + which offends and hardens the heart. And when a man passes, bound, + and walking between a couple of policemen, do not add your + curiosity to the cruel curiosity of the crowd; he may be innocent. + Cease to talk with your companion, and to smile, when you meet a + hospital litter, which is, perhaps, bearing a dying person, or a + funeral procession; for one may issue from your own home on the + morrow. Look with reverence upon all boys from the asylums, who + walk two and two,--the blind, the dumb, those afflicted with the + rickets, orphans, abandoned children; reflect that it is misfortune + and human charity which is passing by. Always pretend not to notice + any one who has a repulsive or laughter-provoking deformity. Always + extinguish every match that you find in your path; for it may cost + some one his life. Always answer a passer-by who asks you the way, + with politeness. Do not look at any one and laugh; do not run + without necessity; do not shout. Respect the street. The education + of a people is judged first of all by their behavior on the street. + Where you find offences in the streets, there you will find + offences in the houses. And study the streets; study the city in + which you live. If you were to be hurled far away from it + to-morrow, you would be glad to have it clearly present in your + memory, to be able to traverse it all again in memory. Your own + city, and your little country--that which has been for so many + years your world; where you took your first steps at your mother's + side; where you experienced your first emotions, opened your mind + to its first ideas; found your first friends. It has been a mother + to you: it has taught you, loved you, protected you. Study it in + its streets and in its people, and love it; and when you hear it + insulted, defend it. + + THY FATHER. + + + + +MARCH + + +THE EVENING SCHOOLS. + + Thursday, 2d. + +LAST night my father took me to see the evening schools in our Baretti +schoolhouse, which were all lighted up already, and where the workingmen +were already beginning to enter. On our arrival we found the head-master +and the other masters in a great rage, because a little while before the +glass in one window had been broken by a stone. The beadle had darted +forth and seized a boy by the hair, who was passing; but thereupon, +Stardi, who lives in the house opposite, had presented himself, and +said:-- + +"This is not the right one; I saw it with my own eyes; it was Franti who +threw it; and he said to me, 'Woe to you if you tell of me!' but I am +not afraid." + +Then the head-master declared that Franti should be expelled for good. +In the meantime I was watching the workingmen enter by twos and threes; +and more than two hundred had already entered. I have never seen +anything so fine as the evening school. There were boys of twelve and +upwards; bearded men who were on their way from their work, carrying +their books and copy-books; there were carpenters, engineers with black +faces, masons with hands white with plaster, bakers' boys with their +hair full of flour; and there was perceptible the odor of varnish, +hides, fish, oil,--odors of all the various trades. There also entered a +squad of artillery workmen, dressed like soldiers and headed by a +corporal. They all filed briskly to their benches, removed the board +underneath, on which we put our feet, and immediately bent their heads +over their work. + +Some stepped up to the teachers to ask explanations, with their open +copy-books in their hands. I caught sight of that young and well-dressed +master "the little lawyer," who had three or four workingmen clustered +round his table, and was making corrections with his pen; and also the +lame one, who was laughing with a dyer who had brought him a copy-book +all adorned with red and blue dyes. My master, who had recovered, and +who will return to school to-morrow, was there also. The doors of the +schoolroom were open. I was amazed, when the lessons began, to see how +attentive they all were, and how they kept their eyes fixed on their +work. Yet the greater part of them, so the head-master said, for fear of +being late, had not even been home to eat a mouthful of supper, and they +were hungry. + +But the younger ones, after half an hour of school, were falling off the +benches with sleep; one even went fast asleep with his head on the +bench, and the master waked him up by poking his ear with a pen. But the +grown-up men did nothing of the sort; they kept awake, and listened, +with their mouths wide open, to the lesson, without even winking; and it +made a deep impression on me to see all those bearded men on our +benches. We also ascended to the story floor above, and I ran to the +door of my schoolroom and saw in my seat a man with a big mustache and a +bandaged hand, who might have injured himself while at work about some +machine; but he was trying to write, though very, very slowly. + +But what pleased me most was to behold in the seat of the little mason, +on the very same bench and in the very same corner, his father, the +mason, as huge as a giant, who sat there all coiled up into a narrow +space, with his chin on his fists and his eyes on his book, so absorbed +that he hardly breathed. And there was no chance about it, for it was he +himself who said to the head-master the first evening he came to the +school:-- + +"Signor Director, do me the favor to place me in the seat of 'my hare's +face.'" For he always calls his son so. + +My father kept me there until the end, and in the street we saw many +women with children in their arms, waiting for their husbands; and at +the entrance a change was effected: the husbands took the children in +their arms, and the women made them surrender their books and +copy-books; and in this wise they proceeded to their homes. For several +minutes the street was filled with people and with noise. Then all grew +silent, and all we could see was the tall and weary form of the +head-master disappearing in the distance. + + +THE FIGHT. + + Sunday, 5th. + +It was what might have been expected. Franti, on being expelled by the +head-master, wanted to revenge himself on Stardi, and he waited for +Stardi at a corner, when he came out of school, and when the latter was +passing with his sister, whom he escorts every day from an institution +in the Via Dora Grossa. My sister Silvia, on emerging from her +schoolhouse, witnessed the whole affair, and came home thoroughly +terrified. This is what took place. Franti, with his cap of waxed cloth +canted over one ear, ran up on tiptoe behind Stardi, and in order to +provoke him, gave a tug at his sister's braid of hair,--a tug so violent +that it almost threw the girl flat on her back on the ground. The little +girl uttered a cry; her brother whirled round; Franti, who is much +taller and stronger than Stardi, thought:-- + +"He'll not utter a word, or I'll break his skin for him!" + +But Stardi never paused to reflect, and small and ill-made as he is, he +flung himself with one bound on that big fellow, and began to belabor +him with his fists. He could not hold his own, however, and he got more +than he gave. There was no one in the street but girls, so there was no +one who could separate them. Franti flung him on the ground; but the +other instantly got up, and then down he went on his back again, and +Franti pounded away as though upon a door: in an instant he had torn +away half an ear, and bruised one eye, and drawn blood from the other's +nose. But Stardi was tenacious; he roared:-- + +"You may kill me, but I'll make you pay for it!" And down went Franti, +kicking and cuffing, and Stardi under him, butting and lungeing out with +his heels. A woman shrieked from a window, "Good for the little one!" +Others said, "It is a boy defending his sister; courage! give it to him +well!" And they screamed at Franti, "You overbearing brute! you coward!" +But Franti had grown ferocious; he held out his leg; Stardi tripped and +fell, and Franti on top of him. + +"Surrender!"--"No!"--"Surrender!"--"No!" and in a flash Stardi recovered +his feet, clasped Franti by the body, and, with one furious effort, +hurled him on the pavement, and fell upon him with one knee on his +breast. + +"Ah, the infamous fellow! he has a knife!" shouted a man, rushing up to +disarm Franti. + +But Stardi, beside himself with rage, had already grasped Franti's arm +with both hands, and bestowed on the fist such a bite that the knife +fell from it, and the hand began to bleed. More people had run up in the +meantime, who separated them and set them on their feet. Franti took to +his heels in a sorry plight, and Stardi stood still, with his face all +scratched, and a black eye,--but triumphant,--beside his weeping sister, +while some of the girls collected the books and copy-books which were +strewn over the street. + +"Bravo, little fellow!" said the bystanders; "he defended his sister!" + +But Stardi, who was thinking more of his satchel than of his victory, +instantly set to examining the books and copy-books, one by one, to see +whether anything was missing or injured. He rubbed them off with his +sleeve, scrutinized his pen, put everything back in its place, and then, +tranquil and serious as usual, he said to his sister, "Let us go home +quickly, for I have a problem to solve." + + +THE BOYS' PARENTS. + + Monday, 6th. + +This morning big Stardi, the father, came to wait for his son, fearing +lest he should again encounter Franti. But they say that Franti will not +be seen again, because he will be put in the penitentiary. + +There were a great many parents there this morning. Among the rest there +was the retail wood-dealer, the father of Coretti, the perfect image of +his son, slender, brisk, with his mustache brought to a point, and a +ribbon of two colors in the button-hole of his jacket. I know nearly all +the parents of the boys, through constantly seeing them there. There is +one crooked grandmother, with her white cap, who comes four times a day, +whether it rains or snows or storms, to accompany and to get her little +grandson, of the upper primary; and she takes off his little cloak and +puts it on for him, adjusts his necktie, brushes off the dust, polishes +him up, and takes care of the copy-books. It is evident that she has no +other thought, that she sees nothing in the world more beautiful. The +captain of artillery also comes frequently, the father of Robetti, the +lad with the crutches, who saved a child from the omnibus, and as all +his son's companions bestow a caress on him in passing, he returns a +caress or a salute to every one, and he never forgets any one; he bends +over all, and the poorer and more badly dressed they are, the more +pleased he seems to be, and he thanks them. + +At times, however, sad sights are to be seen. A gentleman who had not +come for a month because one of his sons had died, and who had sent a +maidservant for the other, on returning yesterday and beholding the +class, the comrades of his little dead boy, retired into a corner and +burst into sobs, with both hands before his face, and the head-master +took him by the arm and led him to his office. + +There are fathers and mothers who know all their sons' companions by +name. There are girls from the neighboring schoolhouse, and scholars in +the gymnasium, who come to wait for their brothers. There is one old +gentleman who was a colonel formerly, and who, when a boy drops a +copy-book or a pen, picks it up for him. There are also to be seen +well-dressed men, who discuss school matters with others, who have +kerchiefs on their heads, and baskets on their arm, and who say:-- + +"Oh! the problem has been a difficult one this time."--"That grammar +lesson will never come to an end this morning!" + +And when there is a sick boy in the class, they all know it; when a sick +boy is convalescent, they all rejoice. And this morning there were eight +or ten gentlemen and workingmen standing around Crossi's mother, the +vegetable-vender, making inquiries about a poor baby in my brother's +class, who lives in her court, and who is in danger of his life. The +school seems to make them all equals and friends. + + +NUMBER 78. + + Wednesday, 8th. + +I witnessed a touching scene yesterday afternoon. For several days, +every time that the vegetable-vender has passed Derossi she has gazed +and gazed at him with an expression of great affection; for Derossi, +since he made the discovery about that inkstand and prisoner Number 78, +has acquired a love for her son, Crossi, the red-haired boy with the +useless arm; and he helps him to do his work in school, suggests answers +to him, gives him paper, pens, and pencils; in short, he behaves to him +like a brother, as though to compensate him for his father's misfortune, +which has affected him, although he does not know it. + +The vegetable-vender had been gazing at Derossi for several days, and +she seemed loath to take her eyes from him, for she is a good woman who +lives only for her son; and Derossi, who assists him and makes him +appear well, Derossi, who is a gentleman and the head of the school, +seems to her a king, a saint. She continued to stare at him, and seemed +desirous of saying something to him, yet ashamed to do it. But at last, +yesterday morning, she took courage, stopped him in front of a gate, and +said to him:-- + +"I beg a thousand pardons, little master! Will you, who are so kind to +my son, and so fond of him, do me the favor to accept this little +memento from a poor mother?" and she pulled out of her vegetable-basket +a little pasteboard box of white and gold. + +Derossi flushed up all over, and refused, saying with decision:-- + +"Give it to your son; I will accept nothing." + +The woman was mortified, and stammered an excuse:-- + +"I had no idea of offending you. It is only caramels." + +But Derossi said "no," again, and shook his head. Then she timidly +lifted from her basket a bunch of radishes, and said:-- + +"Accept these at least,--they are fresh,--and carry them to your mamma." + +Derossi smiled, and said:-- + +"No, thanks: I don't want anything; I shall always do all that I can for +Crossi, but I cannot accept anything. I thank you all the same." + +"But you are not at all offended?" asked the woman, anxiously. + +Derossi said "No, no!" smiled, and went off, while she exclaimed, in +great delight:-- + +"Oh, what a good boy! I have never seen so fine and handsome a boy as +he!" + +And that appeared to be the end of it. But in the afternoon, at four +o'clock, instead of Crossi's mother, his father approached, with that +gaunt and melancholy face of his. He stopped Derossi, and from the way +in which he looked at the latter I instantly understood that he +suspected Derossi of knowing his secret. He looked at him intently, and +said in his sorrowful, affectionate voice:-- + +"You are fond of my son. Why do you like him so much?" + +Derossi's face turned the color of fire. He would have liked to say: "I +am fond of him because he has been unfortunate; because you, his father, +have been more unfortunate than guilty, and have nobly expiated your +crime, and are a man of heart." But he had not the courage to say it, +for at bottom he still felt fear and almost loathing in the presence of +this man who had shed another's blood, and had been six years in prison. +But the latter divined it all, and lowering his voice, he said in +Derossi's ear, almost trembling the while:-- + +"You love the son; but you do not hate, do not wholly despise the +father, do you?" + +"Ah, no, no! Quite the reverse!" exclaimed Derossi, with a soulful +impulse. And then the man made an impetuous movement, as though to throw +one arm round his neck; but he dared not, and instead he took one of the +lad's golden curls between two of his fingers, smoothed it out, and +released it; then he placed his hand on his mouth and kissed his palm, +gazing at Derossi with moist eyes, as though to say that this kiss was +for him. Then he took his son by the hand, and went away at a rapid +pace. + + +A LITTLE DEAD BOY. + + Monday, 13th. + +The little boy who lived in the vegetable-vender's court, the one who +belonged to the upper primary, and was the companion of my brother, is +dead. Schoolmistress Delcati came in great affliction, on Saturday +afternoon, to inform the master of it; and instantly Garrone and Coretti +volunteered to carry the coffin. He was a fine little lad. He had won +the medal last week. He was fond of my brother, and he had presented him +with a broken money-box. My mother always caressed him when she met him. +He wore a cap with two stripes of red cloth. His father is a porter on +the railway. Yesterday (Sunday) afternoon, at half-past four o'clock, we +went to his house, to accompany him to the church. + +They live on the ground floor. Many boys of the upper primary, with +their mothers, all holding candles, and five or six teachers and several +neighbors were already collected in the courtyard. The mistress with the +red feather and Signora Delcati had gone inside, and through an open +window we beheld them weeping. We could hear the mother of the child +sobbing loudly. Two ladies, mothers of two school companions of the dead +child, had brought two garlands of flowers. + +Exactly at five o'clock we set out. In front went a boy carrying a +cross, then a priest, then the coffin,--a very, very small coffin, poor +child!--covered with a black cloth, and round it were wound the garlands +of flowers brought by the two ladies. On the black cloth, on one side, +were fastened the medal and honorable mentions which the little boy had +won in the course of the year. Garrone, Coretti, and two boys from the +courtyard bore the coffin. Behind the coffin, first came Signora +Delcati, who wept as though the little dead boy were her own; behind her +the other schoolmistresses; and behind the mistresses, the boys, among +whom were some very little ones, who carried bunches of violets in one +hand, and who stared in amazement at the bier, while their other hand +was held by their mothers, who carried candles. I heard one of them say, +"And shall I not see him at school again?" + +When the coffin emerged from the court, a despairing cry was heard from +the window. It was the child's mother; but they made her draw back into +the room immediately. On arriving in the street, we met the boys from a +college, who were passing in double file, and on catching sight of the +coffin with the medal and the schoolmistresses, they all pulled off +their hats. + +Poor little boy! he went to sleep forever with his medal. We shall never +see his red cap again. He was in perfect health; in four days he was +dead. On the last day he made an effort to rise and do his little task +in nomenclature, and he insisted on keeping his medal on his bed for +fear it would be taken from him. No one will ever take it from you +again, poor boy! Farewell, farewell! We shall always remember thee at +the Baretti School! Sleep in peace, dear little boy! + + +THE EVE OF THE FOURTEENTH OF MARCH. + +To-day has been more cheerful than yesterday. The thirteenth of March! +The eve of the distribution of prizes at the Theatre Vittorio Emanuele, +the greatest and most beautiful festival of the whole year! But this +time the boys who are to go upon the stage and present the certificates +of the prizes to the gentlemen who are to bestow them are not to be +taken at haphazard. The head-master came in this morning, at the close +of school, and said:-- + +"Good news, boys!" Then he called, "Coraci!" the Calabrian. The +Calabrian rose. "Would you like to be one of those to carry the +certificates of the prizes to the authorities in the theatre to-morrow?" +The Calabrian answered that he should. + +"That is well," said the head-master; "then there will also be a +representative of Calabria there; and that will be a fine thing. The +municipal authorities are desirous that this year the ten or twelve lads +who hand the prizes should be from all parts of Italy, and selected from +all the public school buildings. We have twenty buildings, with five +annexes--seven thousand pupils. Among such a multitude there has been no +difficulty in finding one boy for each region of Italy. Two +representatives of the Islands were found in the Torquato Tasso +schoolhouse, a Sardinian, and a Sicilian; the Boncompagni School +furnished a little Florentine, the son of a wood-carver; there is a +Roman, a native of Rome, in the Tommaseo building; several Venetians, +Lombards, and natives of Romagna have been found; the Monviso School +gives us a Neapolitan, the son of an officer; we furnish a Genoese and a +Calabrian,--you, Coraci,--with the Piemontese: that will make twelve. +Does not this strike you as nice? It will be your brothers from all +quarters of Italy who will give you your prizes. Look out! the whole +twelve will appear on the stage together. Receive them with hearty +applause. They are only boys, but they represent the country just as +though they were men. A small tricolored flag is the symbol of Italy as +much as a huge banner, is it not? + +"Applaud them warmly, then. Let it be seen that your little hearts are +all aglow, that your souls of ten years grow enthusiastic in the +presence of the sacred image of your fatherland." + +Having spoken thus, he went away, and the master said, with a smile, +"So, Coraci, you are to be the deputy from Calabria." + +And then all clapped their hands and laughed; and when we got into the +street, we surrounded Coraci, seized him by the legs, lifted him on +high, and set out to carry him in triumph, shouting, "Hurrah for the +Deputy of Calabria!" by way of making a noise, of course; and not in +jest, but quite the contrary, for the sake of making a celebration for +him, and with a good will, for he is a boy who pleases every one; and he +smiled. And thus we bore him as far as the corner, where we ran into a +gentleman with a black beard, who began to laugh. The Calabrian said, +"That is my father." And then the boys placed his son in his arms and +ran away in all directions. + + +THE DISTRIBUTION OF PRIZES. + + March 14th. + +Towards two o'clock the vast theatre was crowded,--pit, gallery, boxes, +stage, all were thronged; thousands of faces,--boys, gentlemen, +teachers, workingmen, women of the people, babies. There was a moving of +heads and hands, a flutter of feathers, ribbons, and curls, and loud and +merry murmur which inspired cheerfulness. The theatre was all decorated +with festoons of white, red, and green cloth. In the pit two little +stairways had been erected: one on the right, which the winners of +prizes were to ascend in order to reach the stage; the other, on the +left, which they were to descend after receiving their prizes. On the +front of the platform there was a row of red chairs; and from the back +of the one in the centre hung two laurel crowns. At the back of the +stage was a trophy of flags; on one side stood a small green table, and +upon it lay all the certificates of premiums, tied with tricolored +ribbons. The band of music was stationed in the pit, under the stage; +the schoolmasters and mistresses filled all one side of the first +balcony, which had been reserved for them; the benches and passages of +the pit were crammed with hundreds of boys, who were to sing, and who +had written music in their hands. At the back and all about, masters and +mistresses could be seen going to and fro, arranging the prize scholars +in lines; and it was full of parents who were giving a last touch to +their hair and the last pull to their neckties. + + [Illustration: "HURRAH FOR THE DEPUTY OF CALABRIA!"--Page 166.] + +No sooner had I entered my box with my family than I perceived in the +opposite box the young mistress with the red feather, who was smiling +and showing all the pretty dimples in her cheeks, and with her my +brother's teacher and "the little nun," dressed wholly in black, and my +kind mistress of the upper first; but she was so pale, poor thing! and +coughed so hard, that she could be heard all over the theatre. In the +pit I instantly espied Garrone's dear, big face and the little blond +head of Nelli, who was clinging close to the other's shoulder. A little +further on I saw Garoffi, with his owl's-beak nose, who was making great +efforts to collect the printed catalogues of the prize-winners; and he +already had a large bundle of them which he could put to some use in his +bartering--we shall find out what it is to-morrow. Near the door was the +wood-seller with his wife,--both dressed in festive attire,--together +with their boy, who has a third prize in the second grade. I was amazed +at no longer beholding the catskin cap and the chocolate-colored tights: +on this occasion he was dressed like a little gentleman. In one balcony +I caught a momentary glimpse of Votini, with a large lace collar; then +he disappeared. In a proscenium box, filled with people, was the +artillery captain, the father of Robetti, the boy with the crutches who +saved the child from the omnibus. + +On the stroke of two the band struck up, and at the same moment the +mayor, the prefect, the judge, the _provveditore_, and many other +gentlemen, all dressed in black, mounted the stairs on the right, and +seated themselves on the red chairs at the front of the platform. The +band ceased playing. The director of singing in the schools advanced +with a _baton_ in his hand. At a signal from him all the boys in the pit +rose to their feet; at another sign they began to sing. There were seven +hundred singing a very beautiful song,--seven hundred boys' voices +singing together; how beautiful! All listened motionless: it was a slow, +sweet, limpid song which seemed like a church chant. When they ceased, +every one applauded; then they all became very still. The distribution +of the prizes was about to begin. My little master of the second grade, +with his red head and his quick eyes, who was to read the names of the +prize-winners, had already advanced to the front of the stage. The +entrance of the twelve boys who were to present the certificates was +what they were waiting for. The newspapers had already stated that +there would be boys from all the provinces of Italy. Every one knew it, +and was watching for them and gazing curiously towards the spot where +they were to enter, and the mayor and the other gentlemen gazed also, +and the whole theatre was silent. + +All at once the whole twelve arrived on the stage at a run, and remained +standing there in line, with a smile. The whole theatre, three thousand +persons, sprang up simultaneously, breaking into applause which sounded +like a clap of thunder. The boys stood for a moment as though +disconcerted. "Behold Italy!" said a voice on the stage. All at once I +recognized Coraci, the Calabrian, dressed in black as usual. A gentleman +belonging to the municipal government, who was with us and who knew them +all, pointed them out to my mother. "That little blond is the +representative of Venice. The Roman is that tall, curly-haired lad, +yonder." Two or three of them were dressed like gentlemen; the others +were sons of workingmen, but all were neatly clad and clean. The +Florentine, who was the smallest, had a blue scarf round his body. They +all passed in front of the mayor, who kissed them, one after the other, +on the brow, while a gentleman seated next to him smilingly told him the +names of their cities: "Florence, Naples, Bologna, Palermo." And as each +passed by, the whole theatre clapped. Then they all ran to the green +table, to take the certificates. The master began to read the list, +mentioning the schoolhouses, the classes, the names; and the +prize-winners began to mount the stage and to file past. + +The foremost ones had hardly reached the stage, when behind the scenes +there became audible a very, very faint music of violins, which did not +cease during the whole time that they were filing past--a soft and +always even air, like the murmur of many subdued voices, the voices of +all the mothers, and all the masters and mistresses, giving counsel in +concert, and beseeching and administering loving reproofs. And +meanwhile, the prize-winners passed one by one in front of the seated +gentlemen, who handed them their certificates, and said a word or +bestowed a caress on each. + +The boys in the pit and the balconies applauded loudly every time that +there passed a very small lad, or one who seemed, from his garments, to +be poor; and also for those who had abundant curly hair, or who were +clad in red or white. Some of those who filed past belonged to the upper +primary, and once arrived there, they became confused and did not know +where to turn, and the whole theatre laughed. One passed, three spans +high, with a big knot of pink ribbon on his back, so that he could +hardly walk, and he got entangled in the carpet and tumbled down; and +the prefect set him on his feet again, and all laughed and clapped. +Another rolled headlong down the stairs, when descending again to the +pit: cries arose, but he had not hurt himself. Boys of all sorts +passed,--boys with roguish faces, with frightened faces, with faces as +red as cherries; comical little fellows, who laughed in every one's +face: and no sooner had they got back into the pit, than they were +seized upon by their fathers and mothers, who carried them away. + +When our schoolhouse's turn came, how amused I was! Many whom I knew +passed. Coretti filed by, dressed in new clothes from head to foot, with +his fine, merry smile, which displayed all his white teeth; but who +knows how many myriagrammes of wood he had already carried that morning! +The mayor, on presenting him with his certificate, inquired the meaning +of a red mark on his forehead, and as he did so, laid one hand on his +shoulder. I looked in the pit for his father and mother, and saw them +laughing, while they covered their mouths with one hand. Then Derossi +passed, all dressed in bright blue, with shining buttons, with all those +golden curls, slender, easy, with his head held high, so handsome, so +sympathetic, that I could have blown him a kiss; and all the gentlemen +wanted to speak to him and to shake his hand. + +Then the master cried, "Giulio Robetti!" and we saw the captain's son +come forward on his crutches. Hundreds of boys knew the occurrence; a +rumor ran round in an instant; a salvo of applause broke forth, and of +shouts, which made the theatre tremble: men sprang to their feet, the +ladies began to wave their handkerchiefs, and the poor boy halted in the +middle of the stage, amazed and trembling. The mayor drew him to him, +gave him his prize and a kiss, and removing the two laurel crowns which +were hanging from the back of the chair, he strung them on the +cross-bars of his crutches. Then he accompanied him to the proscenium +box, where his father, the captain, was seated; and the latter lifted +him bodily and set him down inside, amid an indescribable tumult of +bravos and hurrahs. + +Meanwhile, the soft and gentle music of the violins continued, and the +boys continued to file by,--those from the Schoolhouse della Consolata, +nearly all the sons of petty merchants; those from the Vanchiglia +School, the sons of workingmen; those from the Boncompagni School, many +of whom were the sons of peasants; those of the Rayneri, which was the +last. As soon as it was over, the seven hundred boys in the pit sang +another very beautiful song; then the mayor spoke, and after him the +judge, who terminated his discourse by saying to the boys:-- + +"But do not leave this place without sending a salute to those who toil +so hard for you; who have consecrated to you all the strength of their +intelligence and of their hearts; who live and die for you. There they +are; behold them!" And he pointed to the balcony of teachers. Then, from +the balconies, from the pit, from the boxes, the boys rose, and extended +their arms towards the masters and mistresses, with a shout, and the +latter responded by waving their hands, their hats, and handkerchiefs, +as they all stood up, in their emotion. After this, the band played once +more, and the audience sent a last noisy salute to the twelve lads of +all the provinces of Italy, who presented themselves at the front of the +stage, all drawn up in line, with their hands interlaced, beneath a +shower of flowers. + + +STRIFE. + + Monday, 26th. + +However, it is not out of envy, because he got the prize and I did not, +that I quarrelled with Coretti this morning. It was not out of envy. But +I was in the wrong. The teacher had placed him beside me, and I was +writing in my copy-book for calligraphy; he jogged my elbow and made me +blot and soil the monthly story, _Blood of Romagna_, which I was to copy +for the little mason, who is ill. I got angry, and said a rude word to +him. He replied, with a smile, "I did not do it intentionally." I should +have believed him, because I know him; but it displeased me that he +should smile, and I thought:-- + +"Oh! now that he has had a prize, he has grown saucy!" and a little +while afterwards, to revenge myself, I gave him a jog which made him +spoil his page. Then, all crimson with wrath, "You did that on purpose," +he said to me, and raised his hand: the teacher saw it; he drew it back. +But he added:-- + +"I shall wait for you outside!" I felt ill at ease; my wrath had +simmered away; I repented. No; Coretti could not have done it +intentionally. He is good, I thought. I recalled how I had seen him in +his own home; how he had worked and helped his sick mother; and then how +heartily he had been welcomed in my house; and how he had pleased my +father. What would I not have given not to have said that word to him; +not to have insulted him thus! And I thought of the advice that my +father had given to me: "Have you done wrong?"--"Yes."--"Then beg his +pardon." But this I did not dare to do; I was ashamed to humiliate +myself. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, and I saw his coat +ripped on the shoulder,--perhaps because he had carried too much +wood,--and I felt that I loved him; and I said to myself, "Courage!" But +the words, "excuse me," stuck in my throat. He looked at me askance from +time to time, and he seemed to me to be more grieved than angry. But at +such times I looked malevolently at him, to show him that I was not +afraid. + +He repeated, "We shall meet outside!" And I said, "We shall meet +outside!" But I was thinking of what my father had once said to me, "If +you are wronged, defend yourself, but do not fight." + +And I said to myself, "I will defend myself, but I will not fight." But +I was discontented, and I no longer listened to the master. At last the +moment of dismissal arrived. When I was alone in the street I perceived +that he was following me. I stopped and waited for him, ruler in hand. +He approached; I raised my ruler. + +"No, Enrico," he said, with his kindly smile, waving the ruler aside +with his hand; "let us be friends again, as before." + +I stood still in amazement, and then I felt what seemed to be a hand +dealing a push on my shoulders, and I found myself in his arms. He +kissed me, and said:-- + +"We'll have no more altercations between us, will we?" + +"Never again! never again!" I replied. And we parted content. But when I +returned home, and told my father all about it, thinking to give him +pleasure, his face clouded over, and he said:-- + +"You should have been the first to offer your hand, since you were in +the wrong." Then he added, "You should not raise your ruler at a comrade +who is better than you are--at the son of a soldier!" and snatching the +ruler from my hand, he broke it in two, and hurled it against the wall. + + +MY SISTER. + + Friday, 24th. + + Why, Enrico, after our father has already reproved you for having + behaved badly to Coretti, were you so unkind to me? You cannot + imagine the pain that you caused me. Do you not know that when you + were a baby, I stood for hours and hours beside your cradle, + instead of playing with my companions, and that when you were ill, + I got out of bed every night to feel whether your forehead was + burning? Do you not know, you who grieve your sister, that if a + tremendous misfortune should overtake us, I should be a mother to + you and love you like my son? Do you not know that when our father + and mother are no longer here, I shall be your best friend, the + only person with whom you can talk about our dead and your infancy, + and that, should it be necessary, I shall work for you, Enrico, to + earn your bread and to pay for your studies, and that I shall + always love you when you are grown up, that I shall follow you in + thought when you go far away, always because we grew up together + and have the same blood? O Enrico, be sure of this when you are a + man, that if misfortune happens to you, if you are alone, be very + sure that you will seek me, that you will come to me and say: + "Silvia, sister, let me stay with you; let us talk of the days when + we were happy--do you remember? Let us talk of our mother, of our + home, of those beautiful days that are so far away." O Enrico, you + will always find your sister with her arms wide open. Yes, dear + Enrico; and you must forgive me for the reproof that I am + administering to you now. I shall never recall any wrong of yours; + and if you should give me other sorrows, what matters it? You will + always be my brother, the same brother; I shall never recall you + otherwise than as having held you in my arms when a baby, of having + loved our father and mother with you, of having watched you grow + up, of having been for years your most faithful companion. But do + you write me a kind word in this same copy-book, and I will come + for it and read it before the evening. In the meanwhile, to show + you that I am not angry with you, and perceiving that you are + weary, I have copied for you the monthly story, _Blood of Romagna_, + which you were to have copied for the little sick mason. Look in + the left drawer of your table; I have been writing all night, while + you were asleep. Write me a kind word, Enrico, I beseech you. + + THY SISTER SILVIA. + + I am not worthy to kiss your hands.--ENRICO. + + +BLOOD OF ROMAGNA. + +(_Monthly Story._) + +That evening the house of Ferruccio was more silent than was its wont. +The father, who kept a little haberdasher's shop, had gone to Forli to +make some purchases, and his wife had accompanied him, with Luigina, a +baby, whom she was taking to a doctor, that he might operate on a +diseased eye; and they were not to return until the following morning. +It was almost midnight. The woman who came to do the work by day had +gone away at nightfall. In the house there was only the grandmother with +the paralyzed legs, and Ferruccio, a lad of thirteen. It was a small +house of but one story, situated on the highway, at a gunshot's distance +from a village not far from Forli, a town of Romagna; and there was near +it only an uninhabited house, ruined two months previously by fire, on +which the sign of an inn was still to be seen. Behind the tiny house was +a small garden surrounded by a hedge, upon which a rustic gate opened; +the door of the shop, which also served as the house door, opened on the +highway. All around spread the solitary campagna, vast cultivated +fields, planted with mulberry-trees. + +It was nearly midnight; it was raining and blowing. Ferruccio and his +grandmother, who was still up, were in the dining-room, between which +and the garden there was a small, closet-like room, encumbered with old +furniture. Ferruccio had only returned home at eleven o'clock, after an +absence of many hours, and his grandmother had watched for him with eyes +wide open, filled with anxiety, nailed to the large arm-chair, upon +which she was accustomed to pass the entire day, and often the whole +night as well, since a difficulty of breathing did not allow her to lie +down in bed. + +It was raining, and the wind beat the rain against the window-panes: the +night was very dark. Ferruccio had returned weary, muddy, with his +jacket torn, and the livid mark of a stone on his forehead. He had +engaged in a stone fight with his comrades; they had come to blows, as +usual; and in addition he had gambled, and lost all his soldi, and left +his cap in a ditch. + +Although the kitchen was illuminated only by a small oil lamp, placed on +the corner of the table, near the arm-chair, his poor grandmother had +instantly perceived the wretched condition of her grandson, and had +partly divined, partly brought him to confess, his misdeeds. + +She loved this boy with all her soul. When she had learned all, she +began to cry. + +"Ah, no!" she said, after a long silence, "you have no heart for your +poor grandmother. You have no feeling, to take advantage in this manner +of the absence of your father and mother, to cause me sorrow. You have +left me alone the whole day long. You had not the slightest compassion. +Take care, Ferruccio! You are entering on an evil path which will lead +you to a sad end. I have seen others begin like you, and come to a bad +end. If you begin by running away from home, by getting into brawls with +the other boys, by losing soldi, then, gradually, from stone fights you +will come to knives, from gambling to other vices, and from other vices +to--theft." + +Ferruccio stood listening three paces away, leaning against a cupboard, +with his chin on his breast and his brows knit, being still hot with +wrath from the brawl. A lock of fine chestnut hair fell across his +forehead, and his blue eyes were motionless. + +"From gambling to theft!" repeated his grandmother, continuing to weep. +"Think of it, Ferruccio! Think of that scourge of the country about +here, of that Vito Mozzoni, who is now playing the vagabond in the town; +who, at the age of twenty-four, has been twice in prison, and has made +that poor woman, his mother, die of a broken heart--I knew her; and his +father has fled to Switzerland in despair. Think of that bad fellow, +whose salute your father is ashamed to return: he is always roaming with +miscreants worse than himself, and some day he will go to the galleys. +Well, I knew him as a boy, and he began as you are doing. Reflect that +you will reduce your father and mother to the same end as his." + +Ferruccio held his peace. He was not at all remorseful at heart; quite +the reverse: his misdemeanors arose rather from superabundance of life +and audacity than from an evil mind; and his father had managed him +badly in precisely this particular, that, holding him capable, at +bottom, of the finest sentiments, and also, when put to the proof, of a +vigorous and generous action, he left the bridle loose upon his neck, +and waited for him to acquire judgment for himself. The lad was good +rather than perverse, but stubborn; and it was hard for him, even when +his heart was oppressed with repentance, to allow those good words which +win pardon to escape his lips, "If I have done wrong, I will do so no +more; I promise it; forgive me." His soul was full of tenderness at +times; but pride would not permit it to manifest itself. + +"Ah, Ferruccio," continued his grandmother, perceiving that he was thus +dumb, "not a word of penitence do you utter to me! You see to what a +condition I am reduced, so that I am as good as actually buried. You +ought not to have the heart to make me suffer so, to make the mother of +your mother, who is so old and so near her last day, weep; the poor +grandmother who has always loved you so, who rocked you all night long, +night after night, when you were a baby a few months old, and who did +not eat for amusing you,--you do not know that! I always said, 'This boy +will be my consolation!' And now you are killing me! I would willingly +give the little life that remains to me if I could see you become a good +boy, and an obedient one, as you were in those days when I used to lead +you to the sanctuary--do you remember, Ferruccio? You used to fill my +pockets with pebbles and weeds, and I carried you home in my arms, fast +asleep. You used to love your poor grandma then. And now I am a +paralytic, and in need of your affection as of the air to breathe, since +I have no one else in the world, poor, half-dead woman that I am: my +God!" + +Ferruccio was on the point of throwing himself on his grandmother, +overcome with emotion, when he fancied that he heard a slight noise, a +creaking in the small adjoining room, the one which opened on the +garden. But he could not make out whether it was the window-shutters +rattling in the wind, or something else. + +He bent his head and listened. + +The rain beat down noisily. + +The sound was repeated. His grandmother heard it also. + +"What is it?" asked the grandmother, in perturbation, after a momentary +pause. + +"The rain," murmured the boy. + +"Then, Ferruccio," said the old woman, drying her eyes, "you promise me +that you will be good, that you will not make your poor grandmother weep +again--" + +Another faint sound interrupted her. + +"But it seems to me that it is not the rain!" she exclaimed, turning +pale. "Go and see!" + +But she instantly added, "No; remain here!" and seized Ferruccio by the +hand. + +Both remained as they were, and held their breath. All they heard was +the sound of the water. + +Then both were seized with a shivering fit. + +It seemed to both that they heard footsteps in the next room. + +"Who's there?" demanded the lad, recovering his breath with an effort. + +No one replied. + +"Who is it?" asked Ferruccio again, chilled with terror. + +But hardly had he pronounced these words when both uttered a shriek of +terror. Two men sprang into the room. One of them grasped the boy and +placed one hand over his mouth; the other clutched the old woman by the +throat. The first said:-- + +"Silence, unless you want to die!" + +The second:-- + +"Be quiet!" and raised aloft a knife. + +Both had dark cloths over their faces, with two holes for the eyes. + +For a moment nothing was audible but the gasping breath of all four, the +patter of the rain; the old woman emitted frequent rattles from her +throat, and her eyes were starting from her head. + +The man who held the boy said in his ear, "Where does your father keep +his money?" + +The lad replied in a thread of a voice, with chattering teeth, +"Yonder--in the cupboard." + +"Come with me," said the man. + +And he dragged him into the closet room, holding him securely by the +throat. There was a dark lantern standing on the floor. + +"Where is the cupboard?" he demanded. + +The suffocating boy pointed to the cupboard. + +Then, in order to make sure of the boy, the man flung him on his knees +in front of the cupboard, and, pressing his neck closely between his own +legs, in such a way that he could throttle him if he shouted, and +holding his knife in his teeth and his lantern in one hand, with the +other he pulled from his pocket a pointed iron, drove it into the lock, +fumbled about, broke it, threw the doors wide open, tumbled everything +over in a perfect fury of haste, filled his pockets, shut the cupboard +again, opened it again, made another search; then he seized the boy by +the windpipe again, and pushed him to where the other man was still +grasping the old woman, who was convulsed, with her head thrown back and +her mouth open. + +The latter asked in a low voice, "Did you find it?" + +His companion replied, "I found it." + +And he added, "See to the door." + +The one that was holding the old woman ran to the door of the garden to +see if there were any one there, and called in from the little room, in +a voice that resembled a hiss, "Come!" + +The one who remained behind, and who was still holding Ferruccio fast, +showed his knife to the boy and the old woman, who had opened her eyes +again, and said, "Not a sound, or I'll come back and cut your throat." + +And he glared at the two for a moment. + +At this juncture, a song sung by many voices became audible far off on +the highway. + +The robber turned his head hastily toward the door, and the violence of +the movement caused the cloth to fall from his face. + +The old woman gave vent to a shriek; "Mozzoni!" + +"Accursed woman," roared the robber, on finding himself recognized, "you +shall die!" + +And he hurled himself, with his knife raised, against the old woman, who +swooned on the spot. + +The assassin dealt the blow. + +But Ferruccio, with an exceedingly rapid movement, and uttering a cry of +desperation, had rushed to his grandmother, and covered her body with +his own. The assassin fled, stumbling against the table and overturning +the light, which was extinguished. + +The boy slipped slowly from above his grandmother, fell on his knees, +and remained in that attitude, with his arms around her body and his +head upon her breast. + +Several moments passed; it was very dark; the song of the peasants +gradually died away in the campagna. The old woman recovered her senses. + +"Ferruccio!" she cried, in a voice that was barely intelligible, with +chattering teeth. + +"Grandmamma!" replied the lad. + +The old woman made an effort to speak; but terror had paralyzed her +tongue. + +She remained silent for a while, trembling violently. + +Then she succeeded in asking:-- + +"They are not here now?" + +"No." + +"They did not kill me," murmured the old woman in a stifled voice. + +"No; you are safe," said Ferruccio, in a weak voice. "You are safe, dear +grandmother. They carried off the money. But daddy had taken nearly all +of it with him." + +His grandmother drew a deep breath. + +"Grandmother," said Ferruccio, still kneeling, and pressing her close to +him, "dear grandmother, you love me, don't you?" + +"O Ferruccio! my poor little son!" she replied, placing her hands on his +head; "what a fright you must have had!--O Lord God of mercy!--Light the +lamp. No; let us still remain in the dark! I am still afraid." + +"Grandmother," resumed the boy, "I have always caused you grief." + +"No, Ferruccio, you must not say such things; I shall never think of +that again; I have forgotten everything, I love you so dearly!" + +"I have always caused you grief," pursued Ferruccio, with difficulty, +and his voice quivered; "but I have always loved you. Do you forgive +me?--Forgive me, grandmother." + +"Yes, my son, I forgive you with all my heart. Think, how could I help +forgiving you! Rise from your knees, my child. I will never scold you +again. You are so good, so good! Let us light the lamp. Let us take +courage a little. Rise, Ferruccio." + +"Thanks, grandmother," said the boy, and his voice was still weaker. +"Now--I am content. You will remember me, grandmother--will you not? You +will always remember me--your Ferruccio?" + +"My Ferruccio!" exclaimed his grandmother, amazed and alarmed, as she +laid her hands on his shoulders and bent her head, as though to look him +in his face. + +"Remember me," murmured the boy once more, in a voice that seemed like a +breath. "Give a kiss to my mother--to my father--to Luigina.--Good by, +grandmother." + +"In the name of Heaven, what is the matter with you?" shrieked the old +woman, feeling the boy's head anxiously, as it lay upon her knees; and +then with all the power of voice of which her throat was capable, and in +desperation: "Ferruccio! Ferruccio! Ferruccio! My child! My love! Angels +of Paradise, come to my aid!" + +But Ferruccio made no reply. The little hero, the saviour of the mother +of his mother, stabbed by a blow from a knife in the back, had rendered +up his beautiful and daring soul to God. + + +THE LITTLE MASON ON HIS SICK-BED. + + Tuesday, 18th. + +The poor little mason is seriously ill; the master told us to go and see +him; and Garrone, Derossi, and I agreed to go together. Stardi would +have come also, but as the teacher had assigned us the description of +_The Monument to Cavour_, he told us that he must go and see the +monument, in order that his description might be more exact. So, by way +of experiment, we invited that puffed-up fellow, Nobis, who replied +"No," and nothing more. Votini also excused himself, perhaps because he +was afraid of soiling his clothes with plaster. + +We went there when we came out of school at four o'clock. It was raining +in torrents. On the street Garrone halted, and said, with his mouth full +of bread:-- + +"What shall I buy?" and he rattled a couple of soldi in his pocket. We +each contributed two soldi, and purchased three huge oranges. We +ascended to the garret. At the door Derossi removed his medal and put it +in his pocket. I asked him why. + +"I don't know," he answered; "in order not to have the air: it strikes +me as more delicate to go in without my medal." We knocked; the father, +that big man who looks like a giant, opened to us; his face was +distorted so that he appeared terrified. + +"Who are you?" he demanded. Garrone replied:-- + +"We are Antonio's schoolmates, and we have brought him three oranges." + +"Ah, poor Tonino!" exclaimed the mason, shaking his head, "I fear that +he will never eat your oranges!" and he wiped his eyes with the back of +his hand. He made us come in. We entered an attic room, where we saw +"the little mason" asleep in a little iron bed; his mother hung +dejectedly over the bed, with her face in her hands, and she hardly +turned to look at us; on one side hung brushes, a trowel, and a +plaster-sieve; over the feet of the sick boy was spread the mason's +jacket, white with lime. The poor boy was emaciated; very, very white; +his nose was pointed, and his breath was short. O dear Tonino, my little +comrade! you who were so kind and merry, how it pains me! what would I +not give to see you make the hare's face once more, poor little mason! +Garrone laid an orange on his pillow, close to his face; the odor waked +him; he grasped it instantly; then let go of it, and gazed intently at +Garrone. + +"It is I," said the latter; "Garrone: do you know me?" He smiled almost +imperceptibly, lifted his stubby hand with difficulty from the bed and +held it out to Garrone, who took it between his, and laid it against his +cheek, saying:-- + +"Courage, courage, little mason; you are going to get well soon and come +back to school, and the master will put you next to me; will that please +you?" + +But the little mason made no reply. His mother burst into sobs: "Oh, my +poor Tonino! My poor Tonino! He is so brave and good, and God is going +to take him from us!" + +"Silence!" cried the mason; "silence, for the love of God, or I shall +lose my reason!" + +Then he said to us, with anxiety: "Go, go, boys, thanks; go! what do you +want to do here? Thanks; go home!" The boy had closed his eyes again, +and appeared to be dead. + +"Do you need any assistance?" asked Garrone. + +"No, my good boy, thanks," the mason answered. And so saying, he pushed +us out on the landing, and shut the door. But we were not half-way down +the stairs, when we heard him calling, "Garrone! Garrone!" + +We all three mounted the stairs once more in haste. + +"Garrone!" shouted the mason, with a changed countenance, "he has called +you by name; it is two days since he spoke; he has called you twice; he +wants you; come quickly! Ah, holy God, if this is only a good sign!" + +"Farewell for the present," said Garrone to us; "I shall remain," and +he ran in with the father. Derossi's eyes were full of tears. I said to +him:-- + +"Are you crying for the little mason? He has spoken; he will recover." + +"I believe it," replied Derossi; "but I was not thinking of him. I was +thinking how good Garrone is, and what a beautiful soul he has." + + +COUNT CAVOUR. + + Wednesday, 29th. + + You are to make a description of the monument to Count Cavour. You + can do it. But who was Count Cavour? You cannot understand at + present. For the present this is all you know: he was for many + years the prime minister of Piemont. It was he who sent the + Piemontese army to the Crimea to raise once more, with the victory + of the Cernaia, our military glory, which had fallen with the + defeat at Novara; it was he who made one hundred and fifty thousand + Frenchmen descend from the Alps to chase the Austrians from + Lombardy; it was he who governed Italy in the most solemn period of + our revolution; who gave, during those years, the most potent + impulse to the holy enterprise of the unification of our + country,--he with his luminous mind, with his invincible + perseverance, with his more than human industry. Many generals have + passed terrible hours on the field of battle; but he passed more + terrible ones in his cabinet, when his enormous work might suffer + destruction at any moment, like a fragile edifice at the tremor of + an earthquake. Hours, nights of struggle and anguish did he pass, + sufficient to make him issue from it with reason distorted and + death in his heart. And it was this gigantic and stormy work which + shortened his life by twenty years. Nevertheless, devoured by the + fever which was to cast him into his grave, he yet contended + desperately with the malady in order to accomplish something for + his country. "It is strange," he said sadly on his death-bed, "I no + longer know how to read; I can no longer read." + + While they were bleeding him, and the fever was increasing, he was + thinking of his country, and he said imperiously: "Cure me; my mind + is clouding over; I have need of all my faculties to manage + important affairs." When he was already reduced to extremities, and + the whole city was in a tumult, and the king stood at his bedside, + he said anxiously, "I have many things to say to you, Sire, many + things to show you; but I am ill; I cannot, I cannot;" and he was + in despair. + + And his feverish thoughts hovered ever round the State, round the + new Italian provinces which had been united with us, round the many + things which still remained to be done. When delirium seized him, + "Educate the children!" he exclaimed, between his gasps for + breath,--"educate the children and the young people--govern with + liberty!" + + His delirium increased; death hovered over him, and with burning + words he invoked General Garibaldi, with whom he had had + disagreements, and Venice and Rome, which were not yet free: he had + vast visions of the future of Italy and of Europe; he dreamed of a + foreign invasion; he inquired where the corps of the army were, and + the generals; he still trembled for us, for his people. His great + sorrow was not, you understand, that he felt that his life was + going, but to see himself fleeing his country, which still had need + of him, and for which he had, in a few years, worn out the + measureless forces of his miraculous organism. He died with the + battle-cry in his throat, and his death was as great as his life. + Now reflect a little, Enrico, what sort of a thing is our labor, + which nevertheless so weighs us down; what are our griefs, our + death itself, in the face of the toils, the terrible anxieties, the + tremendous agonies of these men upon whose hearts rests a world! + Think of this, my son, when you pass before that marble image, and + say to it, "Glory!" in your heart. + + THY FATHER. + + + + +APRIL. + + +SPRING. + + Saturday, 1st. + +THE first of April! Only three months more! This has been one of the +most beautiful mornings of the year. I was happy in school because +Coretti told me to come day after to-morrow to see the king make his +entrance with his father, _who knows him_, and because my mother had +promised to take me the same day to visit the Infant Asylum in the Corso +Valdocco. I was pleased, too, because the little mason is better, and +because the teacher said to my father yesterday evening as he was +passing, "He is doing well; he is doing well." + +And then it was a beautiful spring morning. From the school windows we +could see the blue sky, the trees of the garden all covered with buds, +and the wide-open windows of the houses, with their boxes and vases +already growing green. The master did not laugh, because he never +laughs; but he was in a good humor, so that that perpendicular wrinkle +hardly ever appeared on his brow; and he explained a problem on the +blackboard, and jested. And it was plain that he felt a pleasure in +breathing the air of the gardens which entered through the open window, +redolent with the fresh odor of earth and leaves, which suggested +thoughts of country rambles. + +While he was explaining, we could hear in a neighboring street a +blacksmith hammering on his anvil, and in the house opposite, a woman +singing to lull her baby to sleep; far away, in the Cernaia barracks, +the trumpets were sounding. Every one appeared pleased, even Stardi. At +a certain moment the blacksmith began to hammer more vigorously, the +woman to sing more loudly. The master paused and lent an ear. Then he +said, slowly, as he gazed out of the window:-- + +"The smiling sky, a singing mother, an honest man at work, boys at +study,--these are beautiful things." + +When we emerged from the school, we saw that every one else was cheerful +also. All walked in a line, stamping loudly with their feet, and +humming, as though on the eve of a four days' vacation; the +schoolmistresses were playful; the one with the red feather tripped +along behind the children like a schoolgirl; the parents of the boys +were chatting together and smiling, and Crossi's mother, the +vegetable-vender, had so many bunches of violets in her basket, that +they filled the whole large hall with perfume. + +I have never felt such happiness as this morning on catching sight of my +mother, who was waiting for me in the street. And I said to her as I ran +to meet her:-- + +"Oh, I am happy! what is it that makes me so happy this morning?" And my +mother answered me with a smile that it was the beautiful season and a +good conscience. + + +KING UMBERTO. + + Monday, 3d. + +At ten o'clock precisely my father saw from the window Coretti, the +wood-seller, and his son waiting for me in the square, and said to me:-- + +"There they are, Enrico; go and see your king." + +I went like a flash. Both father and son were even more alert than +usual, and they never seemed to me to resemble each other so strongly as +this morning. The father wore on his jacket the medal for valor between +two commemorative medals, and his mustaches were curled and as pointed +as two pins. + +We at once set out for the railway station, where the king was to arrive +at half-past ten. Coretti, the father, smoked his pipe and rubbed his +hands. "Do you know," said he, "I have not seen him since the war of +'sixty-six? A trifle of fifteen years and six months. First, three years +in France, and then at Mondovì, and here, where I might have seen him, I +have never had the good luck of being in the city when he came. Such a +combination of circumstances!" + +He called the King "Umberto," like a comrade. Umberto commanded the 16th +division; Umberto was twenty-two years and so many days old; Umberto +mounted a horse thus and so. + +"Fifteen years!" he said vehemently, accelerating his pace. "I really +have a great desire to see him again. I left him a prince; I see him +once more, a king. And I, too, have changed. From a soldier I have +become a hawker of wood." And he laughed. + +His son asked him, "If he were to see you, would he remember you?" + +He began to laugh. + +"You are crazy!" he answered. "That's quite another thing. He, Umberto, +was one single man; we were as numerous as flies. And then, he never +looked at us one by one." + +We turned into the Corso Vittorio Emanuele; there were many people on +their way to the station. A company of Alpine soldiers passed with their +trumpets. Two armed policemen passed by on horseback at a gallop. The +day was serene and brilliant. + +"Yes!" exclaimed the elder Coretti, growing animated, "it is a real +pleasure to me to see him once more, the general of my division. Ah, how +quickly I have grown old! It seems as though it were only the other day +that I had my knapsack on my shoulders and my gun in my hands, at that +affair of the 24th of June, when we were on the point of coming to +blows. Umberto was going to and fro with his officers, while the cannon +were thundering in the distance; and every one was gazing at him and +saying, 'May there not be a bullet for him also!' I was a thousand miles +from thinking that I should soon find myself so near him, in front of +the lances of the Austrian uhlans; actually, only four paces from each +other, boys. That was a fine day; the sky was like a mirror; but so hot! +Let us see if we can get in." + +We had arrived at the station; there was a great crowd,--carriages, +policemen, carabineers, societies with banners. A regimental band was +playing. The elder Coretti attempted to enter the portico, but he was +stopped. Then it occurred to him to force his way into the front row of +the crowd which formed an opening at the entrance; and making way with +his elbow, he succeeded in thrusting us forward also. But the +undulating throng flung us hither and thither a little. The wood-seller +got his eye upon the first pillar of the portico, where the police did +not allow any one to stand; "Come with me," he said suddenly, dragging +us by the hand; and he crossed the empty space in two bounds, and went +and planted himself there, with his back against the wall. + +A police brigadier instantly hurried up and said to him, "You can't +stand here." + +"I belong to the fourth battalion of forty-nine," replied Coretti, +touching his medal. + +The brigadier glanced at it, and said, "Remain." + +"Didn't I say so!" exclaimed Coretti triumphantly; "it's a magic word, +that fourth of the forty-ninth! Haven't I the right to see my general +with some little comfort,--I, who was in that squadron? I saw him close +at hand then; it seems right that I should see him close at hand now. +And I say general! He was my battalion commander for a good half-hour; +for at such moments he commanded the battalion himself, while it was in +the heart of things, and not Major Ubrich, by Heavens!" + +In the meantime, in the reception-room and outside, a great mixture of +gentlemen and officers was visible, and in front of the door, the +carriages, with the lackeys dressed in red, were drawn up in a line. + +Coretti asked his father whether Prince Umberto had his sword in his +hand when he was with the regiment. + +"He would certainly have had his sword in his hand," the latter replied, +"to ward off a blow from a lance, which might strike him as well as +another. Ah! those unchained demons! They came down on us like the wrath +of God; they descended on us. They swept between the groups, the +squadrons, the cannon, as though tossed by a hurricane, crushing down +everything. There was a whirl of light cavalry of Alessandria, of +lancers of Foggia, of infantry, of sharpshooters, a pandemonium in which +nothing could any longer be understood. I heard the shout, 'Your +Highness! your Highness!' I saw the lowered lances approaching; we +discharged our guns; a cloud of smoke hid everything. Then the smoke +cleared away. The ground was covered with horses and uhlans, wounded and +dead. I turned round, and beheld in our midst Umberto, on horseback, +gazing tranquilly about, with the air of demanding, 'Have any of my lads +received a scratch?' And we shouted to him, 'Hurrah!' right in his face, +like madmen. Heavens, what a moment that was! Here's the train coming!" + +The band struck up; the officers hastened forward; the crowd elevated +themselves on tiptoe. + +"Eh, he won't come out in a hurry," said a policeman; "they are +presenting him with an address now." + +The elder Coretti was beside himself with impatience. + +"Ah! when I think of it," he said, "I always see him there. Of course, +there is cholera and there are earthquakes; and in them, too, he bears +himself bravely; but I always have him before my mind as I saw him then, +among us, with that tranquil face. I am sure that he too recalls the +fourth of the forty-ninth, even now that he is King; and that it would +give him pleasure to have for once, at a table together, all those whom +he saw about him at such moments. Now, he has generals, and great +gentlemen, and courtiers; then, there was no one but us poor soldiers. +If we could only exchange a few words alone! Our general of twenty-two; +our prince, who was intrusted to our bayonets! I have not seen him for +fifteen years. Our Umberto! that's what he is! Ah! that music stirs my +blood, on my word of honor." + +An outburst of shouts interrupted him; thousands of hats rose in the +air; four gentlemen dressed in black got into the first carriage. + +"'Tis he!" cried Coretti, and stood as though enchanted. + +Then he said softly, "Madonna mia, how gray he has grown!" + +We all three uncovered our heads; the carriage advanced slowly through +the crowd, who shouted and waved their hats. I looked at the elder +Coretti. He seemed to me another man; he seemed to have become taller, +graver, rather pale, and fastened bolt upright against the pillar. + +The carriage arrived in front of us, a pace distant from the pillar. +"Hurrah!" shouted many voices. + +"Hurrah!" shouted Coretti, after the others. + +The King glanced at his face, and his eye dwelt for a moment on his +three medals. + +Then Coretti lost his head, and roared, "The fourth battalion of the +forty-ninth!" + +The King, who had turned away, turned towards us again, and looking +Coretti straight in the eye, reached his hand out of the carriage. + +Coretti gave one leap forwards and clasped it. The carriage passed on; +the crowd broke in and separated us; we lost sight of the elder Coretti. +But it was only for a moment. We found him again directly, panting, with +wet eyes, calling for his son by name, and holding his hand on high. His +son flew towards him, and he said, "Here, little one, while my hand is +still warm!" and he passed his hand over the boy's face, saying, "This +is a caress from the King." + +And there he stood, as though in a dream, with his eyes fixed on the +distant carriage, smiling, with his pipe in his hand, in the centre of a +group of curious people, who were staring at him. "He's one of the +fourth battalion of the forty-ninth!" they said. "He is a soldier that +knows the King." "And the King recognized him." "And he offered him his +hand." "He gave the King a petition," said one, more loudly. + +"No," replied Coretti, whirling round abruptly; "I did not give him any +petition. There is something else that I would give him, if he were to +ask it of me." + +They all stared at him. + +And he said simply, "My blood." + + +THE INFANT ASYLUM. + + Tuesday, 4th. + +After breakfast yesterday my mother took me, as she had promised, to the +Infant Asylum in the Corso Valdocco, in order to recommend to the +directress a little sister of Precossi. I had never seen an asylum. How +much amused I was! There were two hundred of them, boy-babies and +girl-babies, and so small that the children in our lower primary schools +are men in comparison. + +We arrived just as they were entering the refectory in two files, where +there were two very long tables, with a great many round holes, and in +each hole a black bowl filled with rice and beans, and a tin spoon +beside it. On entering, some grew confused and remained on the floor +until the mistresses ran and picked them up. Many halted in front of a +bowl, thinking it was their proper place, and had already swallowed a +spoonful, when a mistress arrived and said, "Go on!" and then they +advanced three or four paces and got down another spoonful, and then +advanced again, until they reached their own places, after having +fraudulently disposed of half a portion. At last, by dint of pushing and +crying, "Make haste! make haste!" they were all got into order, and the +prayer was begun. But all those on the inner line, who had to turn their +backs on the bowls for the prayer, twisted their heads round so that +they could keep an eye on them, lest some one might meddle; and then +they said their prayer thus, with hands clasped and their eyes on the +ceiling, but with their hearts on their food. Then they set to eating. +Ah, what a charming sight it was! One ate with two spoons, another with +his hands; many picked up the beans one by one, and thrust them into +their pockets; others wrapped them tightly in their little aprons, and +pounded them to reduce them to a paste. There were even some who did not +eat, because they were watching the flies flying, and others coughed and +sprinkled a shower of rice all around them. It resembled a poultry-yard. +But it was charming. The two rows of babies formed a pretty sight, with +their hair all tied on the tops of their heads with red, green, and blue +ribbons. One teacher asked a row of eight children, "Where does rice +grow?" The whole eight opened their mouths wide, filled as they were +with the pottage, and replied in concert, in a sing-song, "It grows in +the water." Then the teacher gave the order, "Hands up!" and it was +pretty to see all those little arms fly up, which a few months ago were +all in swaddling-clothes, and all those little hands flourishing, which +looked like so many white and pink butterflies. + +Then they all went to recreation; but first they all took their little +baskets, which were hanging on the wall with their lunches in them. They +went out into the garden and scattered, drawing forth their provisions +as they did so,--bread, stewed plums, a tiny bit of cheese, a +hard-boiled egg, little apples, a handful of boiled vetches, or a wing +of chicken. In an instant the whole garden was strewn with crumbs, as +though they had been scattered from their feed by a flock of birds. They +ate in all the queerest ways,--like rabbits, like rats, like cats, +nibbling, licking, sucking. There was one child who held a bit of rye +bread hugged closely to his breast, and was rubbing it with a medlar, as +though he were polishing a sword. Some of the little ones crushed in +their fists small cheeses, which trickled between their fingers like +milk, and ran down inside their sleeves, and they were utterly +unconscious of it. They ran and chased each other with apples and rolls +in their teeth, like dogs. I saw three of them excavating a hard-boiled +egg with a straw, thinking to discover treasures, and they spilled half +of it on the ground, and then picked the crumbs up again one by one with +great patience, as though they had been pearls. And those who had +anything extraordinary were surrounded by eight or ten, who stood +staring at the baskets with bent heads, as though they were looking at +the moon in a well. There were twenty congregated round a mite of a +fellow who had a paper horn of sugar, and they were going through all +sorts of ceremonies with him for the privilege of dipping their bread in +it, and he accorded it to some, while to others, after many prayers, he +only granted his finger to suck. + + [Illustration: "THE BOYS HAD DAUBED THEIR HANDS WITH + RESIN."--Page 202.] + +In the meantime, my mother had come into the garden and was caressing +now one and now another. Many hung about her, and even on her back, +begging for a kiss, with faces upturned as though to a third story, and +with mouths that opened and shut as though asking for the breast. One +offered her the quarter of an orange which had been bitten, another a +small crust of bread; one little girl gave her a leaf; another showed +her, with all seriousness, the tip of her forefinger, a minute +examination of which revealed a microscopic swelling, which had been +caused by touching the flame of a candle on the preceding day. They +placed before her eyes, as great marvels, very tiny insects, which I +cannot understand their being able to see and catch, the halfs of corks, +shirt-buttons, and flowerets pulled from the vases. One child, with a +bandaged head, who was determined to be heard at any cost, stammered out +to her some story about a head-over-heels tumble, not one word of which +was intelligible; another insisted that my mother should bend down, and +then whispered in her ear, "My father makes brushes." + +And in the meantime a thousand accidents were happening here and there +which caused the teachers to hasten up. Children wept because they could +not untie a knot in their handkerchiefs; others disputed, with scratches +and shrieks, the halves of an apple; one child, who had fallen face +downward over a little bench which had been overturned, wept amid the +ruins, and could not rise. + +Before her departure my mother took three or four of them in her arms, +and they ran up from all quarters to be taken also, their faces smeared +with yolk of egg and orange juice; and one caught her hands; another her +finger, to look at her ring; another tugged at her watch chain; another +tried to seize her by the hair. + +"Take care," the teacher said to her; "they will tear your clothes all +to pieces." + +But my mother cared nothing for her dress, and she continued to kiss +them, and they pressed closer and closer to her: those who were nearest, +with their arms extended as though they were desirous of climbing; the +more distant endeavoring to make their way through the crowd, and all +screaming:-- + +"Good by! good by! good by!" + +At last she succeeded in escaping from the garden. And they all ran and +thrust their faces through the railings to see her pass, and to thrust +their arms through to greet her, offering her once more bits of bread, +bites of apple, cheese-rinds, and all screaming in concert:-- + +"Good by! good by! good by! Come back to-morrow! Come again!" + +As my mother made her escape, she passed her hand once more over those +hundreds of tiny outstretched hands as over a garland of living roses, +and finally arrived safely in the street, covered with crumbs and spots, +rumpled and dishevelled, with one hand full of flowers and her eyes +swelling with tears, and happy as though she had come from a festival. +And inside there was still audible a sound like the twittering of birds, +saying:-- + +"Good by! good by! Come again, _madama_!" + + +GYMNASTICS. + + Tuesday, 5th. + +As the weather continues extremely fine, they have made us pass from +chamber gymnastics to gymnastics with apparatus in the garden. + +Garrone was in the head-master's office yesterday when Nelli's mother, +that blond woman dressed in black, came in to get her son excused from +the new exercises. Every word cost her an effort; and as she spoke, she +held one hand on her son's head. + +"He is not able to do it," she said to the head-master. But Nelli showed +much grief at this exclusion from the apparatus, at having this added +humiliation imposed upon him. + +"You will see, mamma," he said, "that I shall do like the rest." + +His mother gazed at him in silence, with an air of pity and affection. +Then she remarked, in a hesitating way, "I fear lest his companions--" + +What she meant to say was, "lest they should make sport of him." But +Nelli replied:-- + +"They will not do anything to me--and then, there is Garrone. It is +sufficient for him to be present, to prevent their laughing." + +And then he was allowed to come. The teacher with the wound on his neck, +who was with Garibaldi, led us at once to the vertical bars, which are +very high, and we had to climb to the very top, and stand upright on the +transverse plank. Derossi and Coretti went up like monkeys; even little +Precossi mounted briskly, in spite of the fact that he was embarrassed +with that jacket which extends to his knees; and in order to make him +laugh while he was climbing, all the boys repeated to him his constant +expression, "Excuse me! excuse me!" Stardi puffed, turned as red as a +turkey-cock, and set his teeth until he looked like a mad dog; but he +would have reached the top at the expense of bursting, and he actually +did get there; and so did Nobis, who, when he reached the summit, +assumed the attitude of an emperor; but Votini slipped back twice, +notwithstanding his fine new suit with azure stripes, which had been +made expressly for gymnastics. + +In order to climb the more easily, all the boys had daubed their hands +with resin, which they call colophony, and as a matter of course it is +that trader of a Garoffi who provides every one with it, in a powdered +form, selling it at a soldo the paper hornful, and turning a pretty +penny. + +Then it was Garrone's turn, and up he went, chewing away at his bread as +though it were nothing out of the common; and I believe that he would +have been capable of carrying one of us up on his shoulders, for he is +as muscular and strong as a young bull. + +After Garrone came Nelli. No sooner did the boys see him grasp the bars +with those long, thin hands of his, than many of them began to laugh and +to sing; but Garrone crossed his big arms on his breast, and darted +round a glance which was so expressive, which so clearly said that he +did not mind dealing out half a dozen punches, even in the master's +presence, that they all ceased laughing on the instant. Nelli began to +climb. He tried hard, poor little fellow; his face grew purple, he +breathed with difficulty, and the perspiration poured from his brow. The +master said, "Come down!" But he would not. He strove and persisted. I +expected every moment to see him fall headlong, half dead. Poor Nelli! I +thought, what if I had been like him, and my mother had seen me! How she +would have suffered, poor mother! And as I thought of that I felt so +tenderly towards Nelli that I could have given, I know not what, to be +able, for the sake of having him climb those bars, to give him a push +from below without being seen. + +Meanwhile Garrone, Derossi, and Coretti were saying: "Up with you, +Nelli, up with you!" "Try--one effort more--courage!" And Nelli made one +more violent effort, uttering a groan as he did so, and found himself +within two spans of the plank. + +"Bravo!" shouted the others. "Courage--one dash more!" and behold Nelli +clinging to the plank. + +All clapped their hands. "Bravo!" said the master. "But that will do +now. Come down." + +But Nelli wished to ascend to the top like the rest, and after a little +exertion he succeeded in getting his elbows on the plank, then his +knees, then his feet; at last he stood upright, panting and smiling, and +gazed at us. + +We began to clap again, and then he looked into the street. I turned in +that direction, and through the plants which cover the iron railing of +the garden I caught sight of his mother, passing along the sidewalk +without daring to look. Nelli descended, and we all made much of him. He +was excited and rosy, his eyes sparkled, and he no longer seemed like +the same boy. + +Then, at the close of school, when his mother came to meet him, and +inquired with some anxiety, as she embraced him, "Well, my poor son, how +did it go? how did it go?" all his comrades replied, in concert, "He did +well--he climbed like the rest of us--he's strong, you know--he's +active--he does exactly like the others." + +And then the joy of that woman was a sight to see. She tried to thank +us, and could not; she shook hands with three or four, bestowed a caress +on Garrone, and carried off her son; and we watched them for a while, +walking in haste, and talking and gesticulating, both perfectly happy, +as though no one were looking at them. + + +MY FATHER'S TEACHER. + + Tuesday, 11th. + +What a beautiful excursion I took yesterday with my father! This is the +way it came about. + +Day before yesterday, at dinner, as my father was reading the newspaper, +he suddenly uttered an exclamation of astonishment. Then he said:-- + +"And I thought him dead twenty years ago! Do you know that my old first +elementary teacher, Vincenzo Crosetti, is eighty-four years old? I see +here that the minister has conferred on him the medal of merit for sixty +years of teaching. Six-ty ye-ars, you understand! And it is only two +years since he stopped teaching school. Poor Crosetti! He lives an +hour's journey from here by rail, at Condove, in the country of our old +gardener's wife, of the town of Chieri." And he added, "Enrico, we will +go and see him." + +And the whole evening he talked of nothing but him. The name of his +primary teacher recalled to his mind a thousand things which had +happened when he was a boy, his early companions, his dead mother. +"Crosetti!" he exclaimed. "He was forty when I was with him. I seem to +see him now. He was a small man, somewhat bent even then, with bright +eyes, and always cleanly shaved. Severe, but in a good way; for he loved +us like a father, and forgave us more than one offence. He had risen +from the condition of a peasant by dint of study and privations. He was +a fine man. My mother was attached to him, and my father treated him +like a friend. How comes it that he has gone to end his days at Condove, +near Turin? He certainly will not recognize me. Never mind; I shall +recognize him. Forty-four years have elapsed,--forty-four years, Enrico! +and we will go to see him to-morrow." + +And yesterday morning, at nine o'clock, we were at the Susa railway +station. I should have liked to have Garrone come too; but he could not, +because his mother is ill. + +It was a beautiful spring day. The train ran through green fields and +hedgerows in blossom, and the air we breathed was perfumed. My father +was delighted, and every little while he would put his arm round my neck +and talk to me like a friend, as he gazed out over the country. + +"Poor Crosetti!" he said; "he was the first man, after my father, to +love me and do me good. I have never forgotten certain of his good +counsels, and also certain sharp reprimands which caused me to return +home with a lump in my throat. His hands were large and stubby. I can +see him now, as he used to enter the schoolroom, place his cane in a +corner and hang his coat on the peg, always with the same gesture. And +every day he was in the same humor,--always conscientious, full of good +will, and attentive, as though each day he were teaching school for the +first time. I remember him as well as though I heard him now when he +called to me: 'Bottini! eh, Bottini! The fore and middle fingers on that +pen!' He must have changed greatly in these four and forty years." + +As soon as we reached Condove, we went in search of our old gardener's +wife of Chieri, who keeps a stall in an alley. We found her with her +boys: she made much of us and gave us news of her husband, who is soon +to return from Greece, where he has been working these three years; and +of her eldest daughter, who is in the Deaf-mute Institute in Turin. Then +she pointed out to us the street which led to the teacher's house,--for +every one knows him. + +We left the town, and turned into a steep lane flanked by blossoming +hedges. + +My father no longer talked, but appeared entirely absorbed in his +reminiscences; and every now and then he smiled, and then shook his +head. + +Suddenly he halted and said: "Here he is. I will wager that this is he." +Down the lane towards us a little old man with a white beard and a large +hat was descending, leaning on a cane. He dragged his feet along, and +his hands trembled. + +"It is he!" repeated my father, hastening his steps. + +When we were close to him, we stopped. The old man stopped also and +looked at my father. His face was still fresh colored, and his eyes were +clear and vivacious. + +"Are you," asked my father, raising his hat, "Vincenzo Crosetti, the +schoolmaster?" + +The old man raised his hat also, and replied: "I am," in a voice that +was somewhat tremulous, but full. + +"Well, then," said my father, taking one of his hands, "permit one of +your old scholars to shake your hand and to inquire how you are. I have +come from Turin to see you." + +The old man stared at him in amazement. Then he said: "You do me too +much honor. I do not know--When were you my scholar? Excuse me; your +name, if you please." + +My father mentioned his name, Alberto Bottini, and the year in which he +had attended school, and where, and he added: "It is natural that you +should not remember me. But I recollect you so perfectly!" + +The master bent his head and gazed at the ground in thought, and +muttered my father's name three or four times; the latter, meanwhile, +observed him with intent and smiling eyes. + +All at once the old man raised his face, with his eyes opened widely, +and said slowly: "Alberto Bottini? the son of Bottini, the engineer? the +one who lived in the Piazza della Consolata?" + +"The same," replied my father, extending his hands. + +"Then," said the old man, "permit me, my dear sir, permit me"; and +advancing, he embraced my father: his white head hardly reached the +latter's shoulder. My father pressed his cheek to the other's brow. + +"Have the goodness to come with me," said the teacher. And without +speaking further he turned about and took the road to his dwelling. + +In a few minutes we arrived at a garden plot in front of a tiny house +with two doors, round one of which there was a fragment of whitewashed +wall. + +The teacher opened the second and ushered us into a room. There were +four white walls: in one corner a cot bed with a blue and white checked +coverlet; in another, a small table with a little library; four chairs, +and one ancient geographical map nailed to the wall. A pleasant odor of +apples was perceptible. + +We seated ourselves, all three. My father and his teacher remained +silent for several minutes. + +"Bottini!" exclaimed the master at length, fixing his eyes on the brick +floor where the sunlight formed a checker-board. "Oh! I remember well! +Your mother was such a good woman! For a while, during your first year, +you sat on a bench to the left near the window. Let us see whether I do +not recall it. I can still see your curly head." Then he thought for a +while longer. "You were a lively lad, eh? Very. The second year you had +an attack of croup. I remember when they brought you back to school, +emaciated and wrapped up in a shawl. Forty years have elapsed since +then, have they not? You are very kind to remember your poor teacher. +And do you know, others of my old pupils have come hither in years gone +by to seek me out: there was a colonel, and there were some priests, and +several gentlemen." He asked my father what his profession was. Then he +said, "I am glad, heartily glad. I thank you. It is quite a while now +since I have seen any one. I very much fear that you will be the last, +my dear sir." + +"Don't say that," exclaimed my father. "You are well and still vigorous. +You must not say that." + +"Eh, no!" replied the master; "do you see this trembling?" and he showed +us his hands. "This is a bad sign. It seized on me three years ago, +while I was still teaching school. At first I paid no attention to it; I +thought it would pass off. But instead of that, it stayed and kept on +increasing. A day came when I could no longer write. Ah! that day on +which I, for the first time, made a blot on the copy-book of one of my +scholars was a stab in the heart for me, my dear sir. I did drag on for +a while longer; but I was at the end of my strength. After sixty years +of teaching I was forced to bid farewell to my school, to my scholars, +to work. And it was hard, you understand, hard. The last time that I +gave a lesson, all the scholars accompanied me home, and made much of +me; but I was sad; I understood that my life was finished. I had lost my +wife the year before, and my only son. I had only two peasant +grandchildren left. Now I am living on a pension of a few hundred lire. +I no longer do anything; it seems to me as though the days would never +come to an end. My only occupation, you see, is to turn over my old +schoolbooks, my scholastic journals, and a few volumes that have been +given to me. There they are," he said, indicating his little library; +"there are my reminiscences, my whole past; I have nothing else +remaining to me in the world." + +Then in a tone that was suddenly joyous, "I want to give you a surprise, +my dear Signor Bottini." + +He rose, and approaching his desk, he opened a long casket which +contained numerous little parcels, all tied up with a slender cord, and +on each was written a date in four figures. + +After a little search, he opened one, turned over several papers, drew +forth a yellowed sheet, and handed it to my father. It was some of his +school work of forty years before. + +At the top was written, _Alberto Bottini, Dictation, April 3, 1838_. My +father instantly recognized his own large, schoolboy hand, and began to +read it with a smile. But all at once his eyes grew moist. I rose and +inquired the cause. + +He threw one arm around my body, and pressing me to his side, he said: +"Look at this sheet of paper. Do you see? These are the corrections made +by my poor mother. She always strengthened my _l_'s and my _t_'s. And +the last lines are entirely hers. She had learned to imitate my +characters; and when I was tired and sleepy, she finished my work for +me. My sainted mother!" + +And he kissed the page. + +"See here," said the teacher, showing him the other packages; "these are +my reminiscences. Each year I laid aside one piece of work of each of my +pupils; and they are all here, dated and arranged in order. Every time +that I open them thus, and read a line here and there, a thousand things +recur to my mind, and I seem to be living once more in the days that are +past. How many of them have passed, my dear sir! I close my eyes, and I +see behind me face after face, class after class, hundreds and hundreds +of boys, and who knows how many of them are already dead! Many of them I +remember well. I recall distinctly the best and the worst: those who +gave me the greatest pleasure, and those who caused me to pass sorrowful +moments; for I have had serpents, too, among that vast number! But now, +you understand, it is as though I were already in the other world, and I +love them all equally." + +He sat down again, and took one of my hands in his. + +"And tell me," my father said, with a smile, "do you not recall any +roguish tricks?" + +"Of yours, sir?" replied the old man, also with a smile. "No; not just +at this moment. But that does not in the least mean that you never +played any. However, you had good judgment; you were serious for your +age. I remember the great affection of your mother for you. But it is +very kind and polite of you to have come to seek me out. How could you +leave your occupations, to come and see a poor old schoolmaster?" + +"Listen, Signor Crosetti," responded my father with vivacity. "I +recollect the first time that my poor mother accompanied me to school. +It was to be her first parting from me for two hours; of letting me out +of the house alone, in other hands than my father's; in the hands of a +stranger, in short. To this good creature my entrance into school was +like my entrance into the world, the first of a long series of necessary +and painful separations; it was society which was tearing her son from +her for the first time, never again to return him to her intact. She was +much affected; so was I. I bade her farewell with a trembling voice, and +then, as she went away, I saluted her once more through the glass in the +door, with my eyes full of tears. And just at that point you made a +gesture with one hand, laying the other on your breast, as though to +say, 'Trust me, signora.' Well, the gesture, the glance, from which I +perceived that you had comprehended all the sentiments, all the thoughts +of my mother; that look which seemed to say, 'Courage!' that gesture +which was an honest promise of protection, of affection, of indulgence, +I have never forgotten; it has remained forever engraved on my heart; +and it is that memory which induced me to set out from Turin. And here I +am, after the lapse of four and forty years, for the purpose of saying +to you, 'Thanks, dear teacher.'" + +The master did not reply; he stroked my hair with his hand, and his hand +trembled, and glided from my hair to my forehead, from my forehead to my +shoulder. + +In the meanwhile, my father was surveying those bare walls, that +wretched bed, the morsel of bread and the little phial of oil which lay +on the window-sill, and he seemed desirous of saying, "Poor master! +after sixty years of teaching, is this all thy recompense?" + +But the good old man was content, and began once more to talk with +vivacity of our family, of the other teachers of that day, and of my +father's schoolmates; some of them he remembered, and some of them he +did not; and each told the other news of this one or of that one. When +my father interrupted the conversation, to beg the old man to come down +into the town and lunch with us, he replied effusively, "I thank you, I +thank you," but he seemed undecided. My father took him by both hands, +and besought him afresh. "But how shall I manage to eat," said the +master, "with these poor hands which shake in this way? It is a penance +for others also." + +"We will help you, master," said my father. And then he accepted, as he +shook his head and smiled. + +"This is a beautiful day," he said, as he closed the outer door, "a +beautiful day, dear Signor Bottini! I assure you that I shall remember +it as long as I live." + +My father gave one arm to the master, and the latter took me by the +hand, and we descended the lane. We met two little barefooted girls +leading some cows, and a boy who passed us on a run, with a huge load of +straw on his shoulders. The master told us that they were scholars of +the second grade; that in the morning they led the cattle to pasture, +and worked in the fields barefoot; and in the afternoon they put on +their shoes and went to school. It was nearly mid-day. We encountered no +one else. In a few minutes we reached the inn, seated ourselves at a +large table, with the master between us, and began our breakfast at +once. The inn was as silent as a convent. The master was very merry, and +his excitement augmented his palsy: he could hardly eat. But my father +cut up his meat, broke his bread, and put salt on his plate. In order to +drink, he was obliged to hold the glass with both hands, and even then +he struck his teeth. But he talked constantly, and with ardor, of the +reading-books of his young days; of the notaries of the present day; of +the commendations bestowed on him by his superiors; of the regulations +of late years: and all with that serene countenance, a trifle redder +than at first, and with that gay voice of his, and that laugh which was +almost the laugh of a young man. And my father gazed and gazed at him, +with that same expression with which I sometimes catch him gazing at me, +at home, when he is thinking and smiling to himself, with his face +turned aside. + +The teacher allowed some wine to trickle down on his breast; my father +rose, and wiped it off with his napkin. "No, sir; I cannot permit this," +the old man said, and smiled. He said some words in Latin. And, finally, +he raised his glass, which wavered about in his hand, and said very +gravely, "To your health, my dear engineer, to that of your children, to +the memory of your good mother!" + +"To yours, my good master!" replied my father, pressing his hand. And at +the end of the room stood the innkeeper and several others, watching us, +and smiling as though they were pleased at this attention which was +being shown to the teacher from their parts. + +At a little after two o'clock we came out, and the master wanted to +escort us to the station. My father gave him his arm once more, and he +again took me by the hand: I carried his cane for him. The people +paused to look on, for they all knew him: some saluted him. At one point +in the street we heard, through an open window, many boys' voices, +reading together, and spelling. The old man halted, and seemed to be +saddened by it. + +"This, my dear Signor Bottini," he said, "is what pains me. To hear the +voices of boys in school, and not be there any more; to think that +another man is there. I have heard that music for sixty years, and I +have grown to love it. Now I am deprived of my family. I have no sons." + +"No, master," my father said to him, starting on again; "you still have +many sons, scattered about the world, who remember you, as I have always +remembered you." + +"No, no," replied the master sadly; "I have no longer a school; I have +no longer any sons. And without sons, I shall not live much longer. My +hour will soon strike." + +"Do not say that, master; do not think it," said my father. "You have +done so much good in every way! You have put your life to such a noble +use!" + +The aged master inclined his hoary head for an instant on my father's +shoulder, and pressed my hand. + +We entered the station. The train was on the point of starting. + +"Farewell, master!" said my father, kissing him on both cheeks. + +"Farewell! thanks! farewell!" replied the master, taking one of my +father's hands in his two trembling hands, and pressing it to his heart. + +Then I kissed him and felt that his face was bathed in tears. My father +pushed me into the railway carriage, and at the moment of starting he +quickly removed the coarse cane from the schoolmaster's hand, and in its +place he put his own handsome one, with a silver handle and his +initials, saying, "Keep it in memory of me." + +The old man tried to return it and to recover his own; but my father was +already inside and had closed the door. + +"Farewell, my kind master!" + +"Farewell, my son!" responded the master as the train moved off; "and +may God bless you for the consolation which you have afforded to a poor +old man!" + +"Until we meet again!" cried my father, in a voice full of emotion. + +But the master shook his head, as much as to say, "We shall never see +each other more." + +"Yes, yes," repeated my father, "until we meet again!" + +And the other replied by raising his trembling hand to heaven, "Up +there!" + +And thus he disappeared from our sight, with his hand on high. + + +CONVALESCENCE. + + Thursday, 20th. + +Who could have told me, when I returned from that delightful excursion +with my father, that for ten days I should not see the country or the +sky again? I have been very ill--in danger of my life. I have heard my +mother sobbing--I have seen my father very, very pale, gazing intently +at me; and my sister Silvia and my brother talking in a low voice; and +the doctor, with his spectacles, who was there every moment, and who +said things to me that I did not understand. In truth, I have been on +the verge of saying a final farewell to every one. Ah, my poor mother! I +passed three or four days at least, of which I recollect almost nothing, +as though I had been in a dark and perplexing dream. I thought I beheld +at my bedside my kind schoolmistress of the upper primary, who was +trying to stifle her cough in her handkerchief in order not to disturb +me. In the same manner I confusedly recall my master, who bent over to +kiss me, and who pricked my face a little with his beard; and I saw, as +in a mist, the red head of Crossi, the golden curls of Derossi, the +Calabrian clad in black, all pass by, and Garrone, who brought me a +mandarin orange with its leaves, and ran away in haste because his +mother is ill. + +Then I awoke as from a very long dream, and understood that I was better +from seeing my father and mother smiling, and hearing Silvia singing +softly. Oh, what a sad dream it was! Then I began to improve every day. +The little mason came and made me laugh once more for the first time, +with his hare's face; and how well he does it, now that his face is +somewhat elongated through illness, poor fellow! And Coretti came; and +Garoffi came to present me with two tickets in his new lottery of "a +penknife with five surprises," which he purchased of a second-hand +dealer in the Via Bertola. Then, yesterday, while I was asleep, Precossi +came and laid his cheek on my hand without waking me; and as he came +from his father's workshop, with his face covered with coal dust, he +left a black print on my sleeve, the sight of which caused me great +pleasure when I awoke. + +How green the trees have become in these few days! And how I envy the +boys whom I see running to school with their books when my father +carries me to the window! But I shall go back there soon myself. I am so +impatient to see all the boys once more, and my seat, the garden, the +streets; to know all that has taken place during the interval; to apply +myself to my books again, and to my copy-books, which I seem not to have +seen for a year! How pale and thin my poor mother has grown! Poor +father! how weary he looks! And my kind companions who came to see me +and walked on tiptoe and kissed my brow! It makes me sad, even now, to +think that one day we must part. Perhaps I shall continue my studies +with Derossi and with some others; but how about all the rest? When the +fourth grade is once finished, then good by! we shall never see each +other again: I shall never see them again at my bedside when I am +ill,--Garrone, Precossi, Coretti, who are such fine boys and kind and +dear comrades,--never more! + + +FRIENDS AMONG THE WORKINGMEN. + + Thursday, 20th. + + Why "never more," Enrico? That will depend on yourself. When you + have finished the fourth grade, you will go to the Gymnasium, and + they will become workingmen; but you will remain in the same city + for many years, perhaps. Why, then, will you never meet again? When + you are in the University or the Lyceum, you will seek them out in + their shops or their workrooms, and it will be a great pleasure for + you to meet the companions of your youth once more, as men at work. + + I should like to see you neglecting to look up Coretti or Precossi, + wherever they may be! And you will go to them, and you will pass + hours in their company, and you will see, when you come to study + life and the world, how many things you can learn from them, which + no one else is capable of teaching you, both about their arts and + their society and your own country. And have a care; for if you do + not preserve these friendships, it will be extremely difficult for + you to acquire other similar ones in the future,--friendships, I + mean to say, outside of the class to which you belong; and thus you + will live in one class only; and the man who associates with but + one social class is like the student who reads but one book. + + Let it be your firm resolve, then, from this day forth, that you + will keep these good friends even after you shall be separated, and + from this time forth, cultivate precisely these by preference + because they are the sons of workingmen. You see, men of the upper + classes are the officers, and men of the lower classes are the + soldiers of toil; and thus in society as in the army, not only is + the soldier no less noble than the officer, since nobility consists + in work and not in wages, in valor and not in rank; but if there is + also a superiority of merit, it is on the side of the soldier, of + the workmen, who draw the lesser profit from the work. Therefore + love and respect above all others, among your companions, the sons + of the soldiers of labor; honor in them the toil and the sacrifices + of their parents; disregard the differences of fortune and of + class, upon which the base alone regulate their sentiments and + courtesy; reflect that from the veins of laborers in the shops and + in the country issued nearly all that blessed blood which has + redeemed your country; love Garrone, love Coretti, love Precossi, + love your little mason, who, in their little workingmen's breasts, + possess the hearts of princes; and take an oath to yourself that no + change of fortune shall ever eradicate these friendships of + childhood from your soul. Swear to yourself that forty years hence, + if, while passing through a railway station, you recognize your old + Garrone in the garments of an engineer, with a black face,--ah! I + cannot think what to tell you to swear. I am sure that you will + jump upon the engine and fling your arms round his neck, though you + were even a senator of the kingdom. + + THY FATHER. + + +GARRONE'S MOTHER. + + Saturday, 29th. + +On my return to school, the first thing I heard was some bad news. +Garrone had not been there for several days because his mother was +seriously ill. She died on Saturday. Yesterday morning, as soon as we +came into school, the teacher said to us:-- + +"The greatest misfortune that can happen to a boy has happened to poor +Garrone: his mother is dead. He will return to school to-morrow. I +beseech you now, boys, respect the terrible sorrow that is now rending +his soul. When he enters, greet him with affection, and gravely; let no +one jest, let no one laugh at him, I beg of you." + +And this morning poor Garrone came in, a little later than the rest; I +felt a blow at my heart at the sight of him. His face was haggard, his +eyes were red, and he was unsteady on his feet; it seemed as though he +had been ill for a month. I hardly recognized him; he was dressed all in +black; he aroused our pity. No one even breathed; all gazed at him. No +sooner had he entered than at the first sight of that schoolroom whither +his mother had come to get him nearly every day, of that bench over +which she had bent on so many examination days to give him a last bit of +advice, and where he had so many times thought of her, in his impatience +to run out and meet her, he burst into a desperate fit of weeping. The +teacher drew him aside to his own place, and pressed him to his breast, +and said to him:-- + +"Weep, weep, my poor boy; but take courage. Your mother is no longer +here; but she sees you, she still loves you, she still lives by your +side, and one day you will behold her once again, for you have a good +and upright soul like her own. Take courage!" + +Having said this, he accompanied him to the bench near me. I dared not +look at him. He drew out his copy-books and his books, which he had not +opened for many days, and as he opened the reading-book at a place where +there was a cut representing a mother leading her son by the hand, he +burst out crying again, and laid his head on his arm. The master made us +a sign to leave him thus, and began the lesson. I should have liked to +say something to him, but I did not know what. I laid one hand on his +arm, and whispered in his ear:-- + +"Don't cry, Garrone." + +He made no reply, and without raising his head from the bench he laid +his hand on mine and kept it there a while. At the close of school, no +one addressed him; all the boys hovered round him respectfully, and in +silence. I saw my mother waiting for me, and ran to embrace her; but she +repulsed me, and gazed at Garrone. For the moment I could not understand +why; but then I perceived that Garrone was standing apart by himself and +gazing at me; and he was gazing at me with a look of indescribable +sadness, which seemed to say: "You are embracing your mother, and I +shall never embrace mine again! You have still a mother, and mine is +dead!" And then I understood why my mother had thrust me back, and I +went out without taking her hand. + + +GIUSEPPE MAZZINI. + + Saturday, 29th. + +This morning, also, Garrone came to school with a pale face and his eyes +swollen with weeping, and he hardly cast a glance at the little gifts +which we had placed on his desk to console him. But the teacher had +brought a page from a book to read to him in order to encourage him. He +first informed us that we are to go to-morrow at one o'clock to the +town-hall to witness the award of the medal for civic valor to a boy who +has saved a little child from the Po, and that on Monday he will dictate +the description of the festival to us instead of the monthly story. Then +turning to Garrone, who was standing with drooping head, he said to +him:-- + +"Make an effort, Garrone, and write down what I dictate to you as well +as the rest." + +We all took our pens, and the teacher dictated. + +"Giuseppe Mazzini, born in Genoa in 1805, died in Pisa in 1872, a grand, +patriotic soul, the mind of a great writer, the first inspirer and +apostle of the Italian Revolution; who, out of love for his country, +lived for forty years poor, exiled, persecuted, a fugitive heroically +steadfast in his principles and in his resolutions. Giuseppe Mazzini, +who adored his mother, and who derived from her all that there was +noblest and purest in her strong and gentle soul, wrote as follows to a +faithful friend of his, to console him in the greatest of misfortunes. +These are almost his exact words:-- + +"'My friend, thou wilt never more behold thy mother on this earth. That +is the terrible truth. I do not attempt to see thee, because thine is +one of those solemn and sacred sorrows which each must suffer and +conquer for himself. Dost thou understand what I mean to convey by these +words, _It is necessary to conquer sorrow_--to conquer the least sacred, +the least purifying part of sorrow, that which, instead of rendering the +soul better, weakens and debases it? But the other part of sorrow, the +noble part--that which enlarges and elevates the soul--that must remain +with thee and never leave thee more. Nothing here below can take the +place of a good mother. In the griefs, in the consolations which life +may still bring to thee, thou wilt never forget her. But thou must +recall her, love her, mourn her death, in a manner which is worthy of +her. O my friend, hearken to me! Death exists not; it is nothing. It +cannot even be understood. Life is life, and it follows the law of +life--progress. Yesterday thou hadst a mother on earth; to-day thou hast +an angel elsewhere. All that is good will survive the life of earth with +increased power. Hence, also, the love of thy mother. She loves thee now +more than ever. And thou art responsible for thy actions to her more, +even, than before. It depends upon thee, upon thy actions, to meet her +once more, to see her in another existence. Thou must, therefore, out of +love and reverence for thy mother, grow better and cause her joy for +thee. Henceforth thou must say to thyself at every act of thine, "Would +my mother approve this?" Her transformation has placed a guardian angel +in the world for thee, to whom thou must refer in all thy affairs, in +everything that pertains to thee. Be strong and brave; fight against +desperate and vulgar grief; have the tranquillity of great suffering in +great souls; and that it is what she would have.'" + +"Garrone," added the teacher, "_be strong and tranquil, for that is what +she would have_. Do you understand?" + +Garrone nodded assent, while great and fast-flowing tears streamed over +his hands, his copy-book, and his desk. + + +CIVIC VALOR. + +(_Monthly Story._) + +At one o'clock we went with our schoolmaster to the front of the +town-hall, to see the medal for civic valor bestowed on the lad who +saved one of his comrades from the Po. + +On the front terrace waved a huge tricolored flag. + +We entered the courtyard of the palace. + +It was already full of people. At the further end of it there was +visible a table with a red cover, and papers on it, and behind it a row +of gilded chairs for the mayor and the council; the ushers of the +municipality were there, with their under-waistcoats of sky-blue and +their white stockings. To the right of the courtyard a detachment of +policemen, who had a great many medals, was drawn up in line; and beside +them a detachment of custom-house officers; on the other side were the +firemen in festive array; and numerous soldiers not in line, who had +come to look on,--cavalrymen, sharpshooters, artillery-men. Then all +around were gentlemen, country people, and some officers and women and +boys who had assembled. We crowded into a corner where many scholars +from other buildings were already collected with their teachers; and +near us was a group of boys belonging to the common people, between ten +and eighteen years of age, who were talking and laughing loudly; and we +made out that they were all from Borgo Po, comrades or acquaintances of +the boy who was to receive the medal. Above, all the windows were +thronged with the employees of the city government; the balcony of the +library was also filled with people, who pressed against the balustrade; +and in the one on the opposite side, which is over the entrance gate, +stood a crowd of girls from the public schools, and many _Daughters of +military men_, with their pretty blue veils. It looked like a theatre. +All were talking merrily, glancing every now and then at the red table, +to see whether any one had made his appearance. A band of music was +playing softly at the extremity of the portico. The sun beat down on the +lofty walls. It was beautiful. + +All at once every one began to clap their hands, from the courtyard, +from the balconies, from the windows. + +I raised myself on tiptoe to look. + +The crowd which stood behind the red table had parted, and a man and +woman had come forward. The man was leading a boy by the hand. + +This was the lad who had saved his comrade. + +The man was his father, a mason, dressed in his best. The woman, his +mother, small and blond, had on a black gown. The boy, also small and +blond, had on a gray jacket. + +At the sight of all those people, and at the sound of that thunder of +applause, all three stood still, not daring to look nor to move. A +municipal usher pushed them along to the side of the table on the +right. + +All remained quiet for a moment, and then once more the applause broke +out on all sides. The boy glanced up at the windows, and then at the +balcony with the _Daughters of military men_; he held his cap in his +hand, and did not seem to understand very thoroughly where he was. It +struck me that he looked a little like Coretti, in the face; but he was +redder. His father and mother kept their eyes fixed on the table. + +In the meantime, all the boys from Borgo Po who were near us were making +motions to their comrade, to attract his attention, and hailing him in a +low tone: _Pin! Pin! Pinot!_ By dint of calling they made themselves +heard. The boy glanced at them, and hid his smile behind his cap. + +At a certain moment the guards put themselves in the attitude of +_attention_. + +The mayor entered, accompanied by numerous gentlemen. + +The mayor, all white, with a big tricolored scarf, placed himself beside +the table, standing; all the others took their places behind and beside +him. + +The band ceased playing; the mayor made a sign, and every one kept +quiet. + +He began to speak. I did not understand the first words perfectly; but I +gathered that he was telling the story of the boy's feat. Then he raised +his voice, and it rang out so clear and sonorous through the whole +court, that I did not lose another word: "When he saw, from the shore, +his comrade struggling in the river, already overcome with the fear of +death, he tore the clothes from his back, and hastened to his +assistance, without hesitating an instant. They shouted to him, 'You +will be drowned!'--he made no reply; they caught hold of him--he freed +himself; they called him by name--he was already in the water. The +river was swollen; the risk terrible, even for a man. But he flung +himself to meet death with all the strength of his little body and of +his great heart; he reached the unfortunate fellow and seized him just +in time, when he was already under water, and dragged him to the +surface; he fought furiously with the waves, which strove to overwhelm +him, with his companion who tried to cling to him; and several times he +disappeared beneath the water, and rose again with a desperate effort; +obstinate, invincible in his purpose, not like a boy who was trying to +save another boy, but like a man, like a father who is struggling to +save his son, who is his hope and his life. In short, God did not permit +so generous a prowess to be displayed in vain. The child swimmer tore +the victim from the gigantic river, and brought him to land, and with +the assistance of others, rendered him his first succor; after which he +returned home quietly and alone, and ingenuously narrated his deed. + +"Gentlemen, beautiful, and worthy of veneration is heroism in a man! But +in a child, in whom there can be no prompting of ambition or of profit +whatever; in a child, who must have all the more ardor in proportion as +he has less strength; in a child, from whom we require nothing, who is +bound to nothing, who already appears to us so noble and lovable, not +when he acts, but when he merely understands, and is grateful for the +sacrifices of others;--in a child, heroism is divine! I will say nothing +more, gentlemen. I do not care to deck, with superfluous praises, such +simple grandeur. Here before you stands the noble and valorous rescuer. +Soldier, greet him as a brother; mothers, bless him like a son; +children, remember his name, engrave on your minds his visage, that it +may nevermore be erased from your memories and from your hearts. +Approach, my boy. In the name of the king of Italy, I give you the medal +for civic valor." + +An extremely loud hurrah, uttered at the same moment by many voices, +made the palace ring. + +The mayor took the medal from the table, and fastened it on the boy's +breast. Then he embraced and kissed him. The mother placed one hand over +her eyes; the father held his chin on his breast. + +The mayor shook hands with both; and taking the decree of decoration, +which was bound with a ribbon, he handed it to the woman. + +Then he turned to the boy again, and said: "May the memory of this day, +which is such a glorious one for you, such a happy one for your father +and mother, keep you all your life in the path of virtue and honor! +Farewell!" + +The mayor withdrew, the band struck up, and everything seemed to be at +an end, when the detachment of firemen opened, and a lad of eight or +nine years, pushed forwards by a woman who instantly concealed herself, +rushed towards the boy with the decoration, and flung himself in his +arms. + +Another outburst of hurrahs and applause made the courtyard echo; every +one had instantly understood that this was the boy who had been saved +from the Po, and who had come to thank his rescuer. After kissing him, +he clung to one arm, in order to accompany him out. These two, with the +father and mother following behind, took their way towards the door, +making a path with difficulty among the people who formed in line to let +them pass,--policemen, boys, soldiers, women, all mingled together in +confusion. All pressed forwards and raised on tiptoe to see the boy. +Those who stood near him as he passed, touched his hand. When he passed +before the schoolboys, they all waved their caps in the air. Those from +Borgo Po made a great uproar, pulling him by the arms and by his jacket +and shouting. "_Pin! hurrah for Pin! bravo, Pinot!_" I saw him pass very +close to me. His face was all aflame and happy; his medal had a red, +white, and green ribbon. His mother was crying and smiling; his father +was twirling his mustache with one hand, which trembled violently, as +though he had a fever. And from the windows and the balconies the people +continued to lean out and applaud. All at once, when they were on the +point of entering the portico, there descended from the balcony of the +_Daughters of military men_ a veritable shower of pansies, of bunches of +violets and daisies, which fell upon the head of the boy, and of his +father and mother, and scattered over the ground. Many people stooped to +pick them up and hand them to the mother. And the band at the further +end of the courtyard played, very, very softly, a most entrancing air, +which seemed like a song by a great many silver voices fading slowly +into the distance on the banks of a river. + + + + +MAY. + + +CHILDREN WITH THE RICKETS. + + Friday, 5th. + +TO-DAY I took a vacation, because I was not well, and my mother took me +to the Institution for Children with the Rickets, whither she went to +recommend a child belonging to our porter; but she did not allow me to +go into the school. + + You did not understand, Enrico, why I did not permit you to enter? + In order not to place before the eyes of those unfortunates, there + in the midst of the school, as though on exhibition, a healthy, + robust boy: they have already but too many opportunities for making + melancholy comparisons. What a sad thing! Tears rushed from my + heart when I entered. There were sixty of them, boys and girls. + Poor tortured bones! Poor hands, poor little shrivelled and + distorted feet! Poor little deformed bodies! I instantly perceived + many charming faces, with eyes full of intelligence and affection. + There was one little child's face with a pointed nose and a sharp + chin, which seemed to belong to an old woman; but it wore a smile + of celestial sweetness. Some, viewed from the front, are handsome, + and appear to be without defects: but when they turn round--they + cast a weight upon your soul. The doctor was there, visiting them. + He set them upright on their benches and pulled up their little + garments, to feel their little swollen stomachs and enlarged + joints; but they felt not the least shame, poor creatures! it was + evident that they were children who were used to being undressed, + examined, turned round on all sides. And to think that they are now + in the best stage of their malady, when they hardly suffer at all + any more! But who can say what they suffered during the first + stage, while their bodies were undergoing the process of + deformation, when with the increase of their infirmity, they saw + affection decrease around them, poor children! saw themselves left + alone for hour after hour in a corner of the room or the courtyard, + badly nourished, and at times scoffed at, or tormented for months + by bandages and by useless orthopedic apparatus! Now, however, + thanks to care and good food and gymnastic exercises, many are + improving. Their schoolmistress makes them practise gymnastics. It + was a pitiful sight to see them, at a certain command, extend all + those bandaged legs under the benches, squeezed as they were + between splints, knotty and deformed; legs which should have been + covered with kisses! Some could not rise from the bench, and + remained there, with their heads resting on their arms, caressing + their crutches with their hands; others, on making the thrust with + their arms, felt their breath fail them, and fell back on their + seats, all pale; but they smiled to conceal their panting. Ah, + Enrico! you other children do not prize your good health, and it + seems to you so small a thing to be well! I thought of the strong + and thriving lads, whom their mothers carry about in triumph, proud + of their beauty; and I could have clasped all those poor little + heads, I could have pressed them to my heart, in despair; I could + have said, had I been alone, "I will never stir from here again; I + wish to consecrate my life to you, to serve you, to be a mother to + you all, to my last day." And in the meantime, they sang; sang in + peculiar, thin, sweet, sad voices, which penetrated the soul; and + when their teacher praised them, they looked happy; and as she + passed among the benches, they kissed her hands and wrists; for + they are very grateful for what is done for them, and very + affectionate. And these little angels have good minds, and study + well, the teacher told me. The teacher is young and gentle, with a + face full of kindness, a certain expression of sadness, like a + reflection of the misfortunes which she caresses and comforts. The + dear girl! Among all the human creatures who earn their livelihood + by toil, there is not one who earns it more holily than thou, my + daughter! + + THY MOTHER. + + +SACRIFICE. + + Tuesday, 9th. + +My mother is good, and my sister Silvia is like her, and has a large and +noble heart. Yesterday evening I was copying a part of the monthly +story, _From the Apennines to the Andes_,--which the teacher has +distributed among us all in small portions to copy, because it is so +long,--when Silvia entered on tiptoe, and said to me hastily, and in a +low voice: "Come to mamma with me. I heard them talking together this +morning: some affair has gone wrong with papa, and he was sad; mamma was +encouraging him: we are in difficulties--do you understand? We have no +more money. Papa said that it would be necessary to make some sacrifices +in order to recover himself. Now we must make sacrifices, too, must we +not? Are you ready to do it? Well, I will speak to mamma, and do you nod +assent, and promise her on your honor that you will do everything that I +shall say." + +Having said this, she took me by the hand and led me to our mother, who +was sewing, absorbed in thought. I sat down on one end of the sofa, +Silvia on the other, and she immediately said:-- + +"Listen, mamma, I have something to say to you. Both of us have +something to say to you." Mamma stared at us in surprise, and Silvia +began:-- + +"Papa has no money, has he?" + +"What are you saying?" replied mamma, turning crimson. "Has he not +indeed! What do you know about it? Who has told you?" + +"I know it," said Silvia, resolutely. "Well, then, listen, mamma; we +must make some sacrifices, too. You promised me a fan at the end of May, +and Enrico expected his box of paints; we don't want anything now; we +don't want to waste a soldo; we shall be just as well pleased--you +understand?" + +Mamma tried to speak; but Silvia said: "No; it must be thus. We have +decided. And until papa has money again, we don't want any fruit or +anything else; broth will be enough for us, and we will eat bread in the +morning for breakfast: thus we shall spend less on the table, for we +already spend too much; and we promise you that you will always find us +perfectly contented. Is it not so, Enrico?" + +I replied that it was. "Always perfectly contented," repeated Silvia, +closing mamma's mouth with one hand. "And if there are any other +sacrifices to be made, either in the matter of clothing or anything +else, we will make them gladly; and we will even sell our presents; I +will give up all my things, I will serve you as your maid, we will not +have anything done out of the house any more, I will work all day long +with you, I will do everything you wish, I am ready for anything! For +anything!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around my mother's neck, "if +papa and mamma can only be saved further troubles, if I can only behold +you both once more at ease, and in good spirits, as in former days, +between your Silvia and your Enrico, who love you so dearly, who would +give their lives for you!" + +Ah! I have never seen my mother so happy as she was on hearing these +words; she never before kissed us on the brow in that way, weeping and +laughing, and incapable of speech. And then she assured Silvia that she +had not understood rightly; that we were not in the least reduced in +circumstances, as she imagined; and she thanked us a hundred times, and +was cheerful all the evening, until my father came in, when she told him +all about it. He did not open his mouth, poor father! But this morning, +as we sat at the table, I felt at once both a great pleasure and a great +sadness: under my napkin I found my box of colors, and under hers, +Silvia found her fan. + + +THE FIRE. + + Thursday, 11th. + +This morning I had finished copying my share of the story, _From the +Apennines to the Andes_, and was seeking for a theme for the independent +composition which the teacher had assigned us to write, when I heard an +unusual talking on the stairs, and shortly after two firemen entered the +house, and asked permission of my father to inspect the stoves and +chimneys, because a smoke-pipe was on fire on the roof, and they could +not tell to whom it belonged. + +My father said, "Pray do so." And although we had no fire burning +anywhere, they began to make the round of our apartments, and to lay +their ears to the walls, to hear if the fire was roaring in the flues +which run up to the other floors of the house. + +And while they were going through the rooms, my father said to me, "Here +is a theme for your composition, Enrico,--the firemen. Try to write down +what I am about to tell you. + +"I saw them at work two years ago, one evening, when I was coming out of +the Balbo Theatre late at night. On entering the Via Roma, I saw an +unusual light, and a crowd of people collecting. A house was on fire. +Tongues of flame and clouds of smoke were bursting from the windows and +the roof; men and women appeared at the windows and then disappeared, +uttering shrieks of despair. There was a dense throng in front of the +door: the crowd was shouting: 'They will be burned alive! Help! The +firemen!' At that moment a carriage arrived, four firemen sprang out of +it--the first who had reached the town-hall--and rushed into the house. +They had hardly gone in when a horrible thing happened: a woman ran to a +window of the third story, with a yell, clutched the balcony, climbed +down it, and remained suspended, thus clinging, almost suspended in +space, with her back outwards, bending beneath the flames, which flashed +out from the room and almost licked her head. The crowd uttered a cry of +horror. The firemen, who had been stopped on the second floor by mistake +by the terrified lodgers, had already broken through a wall and +precipitated themselves into a room, when a hundred shouts gave them +warning:-- + +"'On the third floor! On the third floor!' + +"They flew to the third floor. There there was an infernal +uproar,--beams from the roof crashing in, corridors filled with a +suffocating smoke. In order to reach the rooms where the lodgers were +imprisoned, there was no other way left but to pass over the roof. They +instantly sprang upon it, and a moment later something which resembled a +black phantom appeared on the tiles, in the midst of the smoke. It was +the corporal, who had been the first to arrive. But in order to get +from the roof to the small set of rooms cut off by the fire, he was +forced to pass over an extremely narrow space comprised between a dormer +window and the eavestrough: all the rest was in flames, and that tiny +space was covered with snow and ice, and there was no place to hold on +to. + +"'It is impossible for him to pass!' shouted the crowd below. + +"The corporal advanced along the edge of the roof. All shuddered, and +began to observe him with bated breath. He passed. A tremendous hurrah +rose towards heaven. The corporal resumed his way, and on arriving at +the point which was threatened, he began to break away, with furious +blows of his axe, beams, tiles, and rafters, in order to open a hole +through which he might descend within. + +"In the meanwhile, the woman was still suspended outside the window. The +fire raged with increased violence over her head; another moment, and +she would have fallen into the street. + +"The hole was opened. We saw the corporal pull off his shoulder-belt and +lower himself inside: the other firemen, who had arrived, followed. + +"At that instant a very lofty Porta ladder, which had just arrived, was +placed against the entablature of the house, in front of the windows +whence issued flames, and howls, as of maniacs. But it seemed as though +they were too late. + +"'No one can be saved now!' they shouted. 'The firemen are burning! The +end has come! They are dead!' + +"All at once the black form of the corporal made its appearance at the +window with the balcony, lighted up by the flames overhead. The woman +clasped him round the neck; he caught her round the body with both +arms, drew her up, and laid her down inside the room. + +"The crowd set up a shout a thousand voices strong, which rose above the +roar of the conflagration. + +"But the others? And how were they to get down? The ladder which leaned +against the roof on the front of another window was at a good distance +from them. How could they get hold of it? + +"While the people were saying this to themselves, one of the firemen +stepped out of the window, set his right foot on the window-sill and his +left on the ladder, and standing thus upright in the air, he grasped the +lodgers, one after the other, as the other men handed them to him from +within, passed them on to a comrade, who had climbed up from the street, +and who, after securing a firm grasp for them on the rungs, sent them +down, one after the other, with the assistance of more firemen. + +"First came the woman of the balcony, then a baby, then another woman, +then an old man. All were saved. After the old man, the fireman who had +remained inside descended. The last to come down was the corporal who +had been the first to hasten up. The crowd received them all with a +burst of applause; but when the last made his appearance, the vanguard +of the rescuers, the one who had faced the abyss in advance of the rest, +the one who would have perished had it been fated that one should +perish, the crowd saluted him like a conqueror, shouting and stretching +out their arms, with an affectionate impulse of admiration and of +gratitude, and in a few minutes his obscure name--Giuseppe Robbino--rang +from a thousand throats. + +"Have you understood? That is courage--the courage of the heart, which +does not reason, which does not waver, which dashes blindly on, like a +lightning flash, wherever it hears the cry of a dying man. One of these +days I will take you to the exercises of the firemen, and I will point +out to you Corporal Robbino; for you would be very glad to know him, +would you not?" + +I replied that I should. + +"Here he is," said my father. + +I turned round with a start. The two firemen, having completed their +inspection, were traversing the room in order to reach the door. + +My father pointed to the smaller of the men, who had straps of gold +braid, and said, "Shake hands with Corporal Robbino." + +The corporal halted, and offered me his hand; I pressed it; he made a +salute and withdrew. + +"And bear this well in mind," said my father; "for out of the thousands +of hands which you will shake in the course of your life there will +probably not be ten which possess the worth of his." + + +FROM THE APENNINES TO THE ANDES. + +(_Monthly Story._) + +Many years ago a Genoese lad of thirteen, the son of a workingman, went +from Genoa to America all alone to seek his mother. + +His mother had gone two years before to Buenos Ayres, a city, the +capital of the Argentine Republic, to take service in a wealthy family, +and to thus earn in a short time enough to place her family once more in +easy circumstances, they having fallen, through various misfortunes, +into poverty and debt. There are courageous women--not a few--who take +this long voyage with this object in view, and who, thanks to the large +wages which people in service receive there, return home at the end of a +few years with several thousand lire. The poor mother had wept tears of +blood at parting from her children,--the one aged eighteen, the other, +eleven; but she had set out courageously and filled with hope. + +The voyage was prosperous: she had no sooner arrived at Buenos Ayres +than she found, through a Genoese shopkeeper, a cousin of her husband, +who had been established there for a very long time, a good Argentine +family, which gave high wages and treated her well. And for a short time +she kept up a regular correspondence with her family. As it had been +settled between them, her husband addressed his letters to his cousin, +who transmitted them to the woman, and the latter handed her replies to +him, and he despatched them to Genoa, adding a few lines of his own. As +she was earning eighty lire a month and spending nothing for herself, +she sent home a handsome sum every three months, with which her husband, +who was a man of honor, gradually paid off their most urgent debts, and +thus regained his good reputation. And in the meantime, he worked away +and was satisfied with the state of his affairs, since he also cherished +the hope that his wife would shortly return; for the house seemed empty +without her, and the younger son in particular, who was extremely +attached to his mother, was very much depressed, and could not resign +himself to having her so far away. + +But a year had elapsed since they had parted; after a brief letter, in +which she said that her health was not very good, they heard nothing +more. They wrote twice to the cousin; the cousin did not reply. They +wrote to the Argentine family where the woman was at service; but it is +possible that the letter never reached them, for they had distorted the +name in addressing it: they received no answer. Fearing a misfortune, +they wrote to the Italian Consulate at Buenos Ayres to have inquiries +made, and after a lapse of three months they received a response from +the consul, that in spite of advertisements in the newspapers no one had +presented herself nor sent any word. And it could not have happened +otherwise, for this reason if for no other: that with the idea of +sparing the good name of her family, which she fancied she was +discrediting by becoming a servant, the good woman had not given her +real name to the Argentine family. + +Several months more passed by; no news. The father and sons were in +consternation; the youngest was oppressed by a melancholy which he could +not conquer. What was to be done? To whom should they have recourse? The +father's first thought had been to set out, to go to America in search +of his wife. But his work? Who would support his sons? And neither could +the eldest son go, for he had just then begun to earn something, and he +was necessary to the family. And in this anxiety they lived, repeating +each day the same sad speeches, or gazing at each other in silence; +when, one evening, Marco, the youngest, declared with decision, "I am +going to America to look for my mother." + +His father shook his head sadly and made no reply. It was an +affectionate thought, but an impossible thing. To make a journey to +America, which required a month, alone, at the age of thirteen! But the +boy patiently insisted. He persisted that day, the day after, every +day, with great calmness, reasoning with the good sense of a man. +"Others have gone thither," he said; "and smaller boys than I, too. Once +on board the ship, I shall get there like anybody else. Once arrived +there, I only have to hunt up our cousin's shop. There are plenty of +Italians there who will show me the street. After finding our cousin, my +mother is found; and if I do not find him, I will go to the consul: I +will search out that Argentine family. Whatever happens, there is work +for all there; I shall find work also; sufficient, at least, to earn +enough to get home." And thus little by little he almost succeeded in +persuading his father. His father esteemed him; he knew that he had good +judgment and courage; that he was inured to privations and to +sacrifices; and that all these good qualities had acquired double force +in his heart in consequence of the sacred project of finding his mother, +whom he adored. In addition to this, the captain of a steamer, the +friend of an acquaintance of his, having heard the plan mentioned, +undertook to procure a free third-class passage for the Argentine +Republic. + +And then, after a little hesitation, the father gave his consent. The +voyage was decided on. They filled a sack with clothes for him, put a +few crowns in his pocket, and gave him the address of the cousin; and +one fine evening in April they saw him on board. + +"Marco, my son," his father said to him, as he gave him his last kiss, +with tears in his eyes, on the steps of the steamer, which was on the +point of starting, "take courage. Thou hast set out on a holy +undertaking, and God will aid thee." + +Poor Marco! His heart was strong and prepared for the hardest trials of +this voyage; but when he beheld his beautiful Genoa disappear on the +horizon, and found himself on the open sea on that huge steamer thronged +with emigrating peasants, alone, unacquainted with any one, with that +little bag which held his entire fortune, a sudden discouragement +assailed him. For two days he remained crouching like a dog on the bows, +hardly eating, and oppressed with a great desire to weep. Every +description of sad thoughts passed through his mind, and the saddest, +the most terrible, was the one which was the most persistent in its +return,--the thought that his mother was dead. In his broken and painful +slumbers he constantly beheld a strange face, which surveyed him with an +air of compassion, and whispered in his ear, "Your mother is dead!" And +then he awoke, stifling a shriek. + +Nevertheless, after passing the Straits of Gibraltar, at the first sight +of the Atlantic Ocean he recovered his spirits a little, and his hope. +But it was only a brief respite. That vast but always smooth sea, the +increasing heat, the misery of all those poor people who surrounded him, +the consciousness of his own solitude, overwhelmed him once more. The +empty and monotonous days which succeeded each other became confounded +in his memory, as is the case with sick people. It seemed to him that he +had been at sea a year. And every morning, on waking, he felt surprised +afresh at finding himself there alone on that vast watery expanse, on +his way to America. The beautiful flying fish which fell on deck every +now and then, the marvellous sunsets of the tropics, with their enormous +clouds colored like flame and blood, and those nocturnal +phosphorescences which make the ocean seem all on fire like a sea of +lava, did not produce on him the effect of real things, but of marvels +beheld in a dream. There were days of bad weather, during which he +remained constantly in the dormitory, where everything was rolling and +crashing, in the midst of a terrible chorus of lamentations and +imprecations, and he thought that his last hour had come. There were +other days, when the sea was calm and yellowish, of insupportable heat, +of infinite tediousness; interminable and wretched hours, during which +the enervated passengers, stretched motionless on the planks, seemed all +dead. And the voyage was endless: sea and sky, sky and sea; to-day the +same as yesterday, to-morrow like to-day, and so on, always, eternally. + +And for long hours he stood leaning on the bulwarks, gazing at that +interminable sea in amazement, thinking vaguely of his mother, until his +eyes closed and his head was drooping with sleep; and then again he +beheld that unknown face which gazed upon him with an air of compassion, +and repeated in his ear, "Your mother is dead!" and at the sound of that +voice he awoke with a start, to resume his dreaming with wide-open eyes, +and to gaze at the unchanging horizon. + +The voyage lasted twenty-seven days. But the last days were the best. +The weather was fine, and the air cool. He had made the acquaintance of +a good old man, a Lombard, who was going to America to find his son, an +agriculturist in the vicinity of the town of Rosario; he had told him +his whole story, and the old man kept repeating every little while, as +he tapped him on the nape of the neck with his hand, "Courage, my lad; +you will find your mother well and happy." + +This companionship comforted him; his sad presentiments were turned into +joyous ones. Seated on the bow, beside the aged peasant, who was smoking +his pipe, beneath the beautiful starry heaven, in the midst of a group +of singing peasants, he imagined to himself in his own mind a hundred +times his arrival at Buenos Ayres; he saw himself in a certain street; +he found the shop, he flew to his cousin. "How is my mother? Come, let +us go at once! Let us go at once!" They hurried on together; they +ascended a staircase; a door opened. And here his mute soliloquy came to +an end; his imagination was swallowed up in a feeling of inexpressible +tenderness, which made him secretly pull forth a little medal that he +wore on his neck, and murmur his prayers as he kissed it. + +On the twenty-seventh day after their departure they arrived. It was a +beautiful, rosy May morning, when the steamer cast anchor in the immense +river of the Plata, near the shore along which stretches the vast city +of Buenos Ayres, the capital of the Argentine Republic. This splendid +weather seemed to him to be a good augury. He was beside himself with +joy and impatience. His mother was only a few miles from him! In a few +hours more he would have seen her! He was in America, in the new world, +and he had had the daring to come alone! The whole of that extremely +long voyage now seemed to him to have passed in an instant. It seemed to +him that he had flown hither in a dream, and that he had that moment +waked. And he was so happy, that he hardly experienced any surprise or +distress when he felt in his pockets and found only one of the two +little heaps into which he had divided his little treasure, in order to +be the more sure of not losing the whole of it. He had been robbed; he +had only a few lire left; but what mattered that to him, when he was +near his mother? With his bag in his hand, he descended, in company +with many other Italians, to the tug-boat which carried him within a +short distance of the shore; clambered down from the tug into a boat +which bore the name of _Andrea Doria_; was landed on the wharf; saluted +his old Lombard friend, and directed his course, in long strides, +towards the city. + +On arriving at the entrance of the first street, he stopped a man who +was passing by, and begged him to show him in what direction he should +go in order to reach the street of _los Artes_. He chanced to have +stopped an Italian workingman. The latter surveyed him with curiosity, +and inquired if he knew how to read. The lad nodded, "Yes." + +"Well, then," said the laborer, pointing to the street from which he had +just emerged, "keep straight on through there, reading the names of all +the streets on the corners; you will end by finding the one you want." + +The boy thanked him, and turned into the street which opened before him. + +It was a straight and endless but narrow street, bordered by low white +houses, which looked like so many little villas, filled with people, +with carriages, with carts which made a deafening noise; here and there +floated enormous banners of various hues, with announcements as to the +departure of steamers for strange cities inscribed upon them in large +letters. At every little distance along the street, on the right and +left, he perceived two other streets which ran straight away as far as +he could see, also bordered by low white houses, filled with people and +vehicles, and bounded at their extremity by the level line of the +measureless plains of America, like the horizon at sea. The city seemed +infinite to him; it seemed to him that he might wander for days or +weeks, seeing other streets like these, on one hand and on the other, +and that all America must be covered with them. He looked attentively at +the names of the streets: strange names which cost him an effort to +read. At every fresh street, he felt his heart beat, at the thought that +it was the one he was in search of. He stared at all the women, with the +thought that he might meet his mother. He caught sight of one in front +of him who made his blood leap; he overtook her: she was a negro. And +accelerating his pace, he walked on and on. On arriving at the +cross-street, he read, and stood as though rooted to the sidewalk. It +was the street _del los Artes_. He turned into it, and saw the number +117; his cousin's shop was No. 175. He quickened his pace still more, +and almost ran; at No. 171 he had to pause to regain his breath. And he +said to himself, "O my mother! my mother! It is really true that I shall +see you in another moment!" He ran on; he arrived at a little +haberdasher's shop. This was it. He stepped up close to it. He saw a +woman with gray hair and spectacles. + +"What do you want, boy?" she asked him in Spanish. + +"Is not this," said the boy, making an effort to utter a sound, "the +shop of Francesco Merelli?" + +"Francesco Merelli is dead," replied the woman in Italian. + +The boy felt as though he had received a blow on his breast. + +"When did he die?" + +"Eh? quite a while ago," replied the woman. "Months ago. His affairs +were in a bad state, and he ran away. They say he went to Bahia Blanca, +very far from here. And he died just after he reached there. The shop +is mine." + +The boy turned pale. + +Then he said quickly, "Merelli knew my mother; my mother who was at +service with Signor Mequinez. He alone could tell me where she is. I +have come to America to find my mother. Merelli sent her our letters. I +must find my mother." + +"Poor boy!" said the woman; "I don't know. I can ask the boy in the +courtyard. He knew the young man who did Merelli's errands. He may be +able to tell us something." + +She went to the end of the shop and called the lad, who came instantly. +"Tell me," asked the shopwoman, "do you remember whether Merelli's young +man went occasionally to carry letters to a woman in service, in the +house of the _son of the country_?" + +"To Signor Mequinez," replied the lad; "yes, signora, sometimes he did. +At the end of the street _del los Artes_." + +"Ah! thanks, signora!" cried Marco. "Tell me the number; don't you know +it? Send some one with me; come with me instantly, my boy; I have still +a few soldi." + +And he said this with so much warmth, that without waiting for the woman +to request him, the boy replied, "Come," and at once set out at a rapid +pace. + +They proceeded almost at a run, without uttering a word, to the end of +the extremely long street, made their way into the entrance of a little +white house, and halted in front of a handsome iron gate, through which +they could see a small yard, filled with vases of flowers. Marco gave a +tug at the bell. + +A young lady made her appearance. + +"The Mequinez family lives here, does it not?" demanded the lad +anxiously. + +"They did live here," replied the young lady, pronouncing her Italian in +Spanish fashion. "Now we, the Zeballos, live here." + +"And where have the Mequinez gone?" asked Marco, his heart palpitating. + +"They have gone to Cordova." + +"Cordova!" exclaimed Marco. "Where is Cordova? And the person whom they +had in their service? The woman, my mother! Their servant was my mother! +Have they taken my mother away, too?" + +The young lady looked at him and said: "I do not know. Perhaps my father +may know, for he knew them when they went away. Wait a moment." + +She ran away, and soon returned with her father, a tall gentleman, with +a gray beard. He looked intently for a minute at this sympathetic type +of a little Genoese sailor, with his golden hair and his aquiline nose, +and asked him in broken Italian, "Is your mother a Genoese?" + +Marco replied that she was. + +"Well then, the Genoese maid went with them; that I know for certain." + +"And where have they gone?" + +"To Cordova, a city." + +The boy gave vent to a sigh; then he said with resignation, "Then I will +go to Cordova." + +"Ah, poor child!" exclaimed the gentleman in Spanish; "poor boy! Cordova +is hundreds of miles from here." + +Marco turned as white as a corpse, and clung with one hand to the +railings. + +"Let us see, let us see," said the gentleman, moved to pity, and +opening the door; "come inside a moment; let us see if anything can be +done." He sat down, gave the boy a seat, and made him tell his story, +listened to it very attentively, meditated a little, then said +resolutely, "You have no money, have you?" + +"I still have some, a little," answered Marco. + +The gentleman reflected for five minutes more; then seated himself at a +desk, wrote a letter, sealed it, and handing it to the boy, he said to +him:-- + +"Listen to me, little Italian. Take this letter to Boca. That is a +little city which is half Genoese, and lies two hours' journey from +here. Any one will be able to show you the road. Go there and find the +gentleman to whom this letter is addressed, and whom every one knows. +Carry the letter to him. He will send you off to the town of Rosario +to-morrow, and will recommend you to some one there, who will think out +a way of enabling you to pursue your journey to Cordova, where you will +find the Mequinez family and your mother. In the meanwhile, take this." +And he placed in his hand a few lire. "Go, and keep up your courage; you +will find fellow-countrymen of yours in every direction, and you will +not be deserted. _Adios!_" + +The boy said, "Thanks," without finding any other words to express +himself, went out with his bag, and having taken leave of his little +guide, he set out slowly in the direction of Boca, filled with sorrow +and amazement, across that great and noisy town. + +Everything that happened to him from that moment until the evening of +that day ever afterwards lingered in his memory in a confused and +uncertain form, like the wild vagaries of a person in a fever, so weary +was he, so troubled, so despondent. And at nightfall on the following +day, after having slept over night in a poor little chamber in a house +in Boca, beside a harbor porter, after having passed nearly the whole of +that day seated on a pile of beams, and, as in delirium, in sight of +thousands of ships and boats and tugs, he found himself on the poop of a +large sailing vessel, loaded with fruit, which was setting out for the +town of Rosario, managed by three robust Genoese, who were bronzed by +the sun; and their voices and the dialect which they spoke put a little +comfort into his heart once more. + +They set out, and the voyage lasted three days and four nights, and it +was a continual amazement to the little traveller. Three days and four +nights on that wonderful river Paranà, in comparison with which our +great Po is but a rivulet; and the length of Italy quadrupled does not +equal that of its course. The barge advanced slowly against this +immeasurable mass of water. It threaded its way among long islands, once +the haunts of serpents and tigers, covered with orange-trees and +willows, like floating coppices; now they passed through narrow canals, +from which it seemed as though they could never issue forth; now they +sailed out on vast expanses of water, having the aspect of great +tranquil lakes; then among islands again, through the intricate channels +of an archipelago, amid enormous masses of vegetation. A profound +silence reigned. For long stretches the shores and very vast and +solitary waters produced the impression of an unknown stream, upon which +this poor little sail was the first in all the world to venture itself. +The further they advanced, the more this monstrous river dismayed him. +He imagined that his mother was at its source, and that their navigation +must last for years. Twice a day he ate a little bread and salted meat +with the boatmen, who, perceiving that he was sad, never addressed a +word to him. At night he slept on deck and woke every little while with +a start, astounded by the limpid light of the moon, which silvered the +immense expanse of water and the distant shores; and then his heart sank +within him. "Cordova!" He repeated that name, "Cordova!" like the name +of one of those mysterious cities of which he had heard in fables. But +then he thought, "My mother passed this spot; she saw these islands, +these shores;" and then these places upon which the glance of his mother +had fallen no longer seemed strange and solitary to him. At night one of +the boatmen sang. That voice reminded him of his mother's songs, when +she had lulled him to sleep as a little child. On the last night, when +he heard that song, he sobbed. The boatman interrupted his song. Then he +cried, "Courage, courage, my son! What the deuce! A Genoese crying +because he is far from home! The Genoese make the circuit of the world, +glorious and triumphant!" + +And at these words he shook himself, he heard the voice of the Genoese +blood, and he raised his head aloft with pride, dashing his fist down on +the rudder. "Well, yes," he said to himself; "and if I am also obliged +to travel for years and years to come, all over the world, and to +traverse hundreds of miles on foot, I will go on until I find my mother, +were I to arrive in a dying condition, and fall dead at her feet! If +only I can see her once again! Courage!" And with this frame of mind he +arrived at daybreak, on a cool and rosy morning, in front of the city of +Rosario, situated on the high bank of the Paranà, where the beflagged +yards of a hundred vessels of every land were mirrored in the waves. + +Shortly after landing, he went to the town, bag in hand, to seek an +Argentine gentleman for whom his protector in Boca had intrusted him +with a visiting-card, with a few words of recommendation. On entering +Rosario, it seemed to him that he was coming into a city with which he +was already familiar. There were the straight, interminable streets, +bordered with low white houses, traversed in all directions above the +roofs by great bundles of telegraph and telephone wires, which looked +like enormous spiders' webs; and a great confusion of people, of horses, +and of vehicles. His head grew confused; he almost thought that he had +got back to Buenos Ayres, and must hunt up his cousin once more. He +wandered about for nearly an hour, making one turn after another, and +seeming always to come back to the same street; and by dint of +inquiring, he found the house of his new protector. He pulled the bell. +There came to the door a big, light-haired, gruff man, who had the air +of a steward, and who demanded awkwardly, with a foreign accent:-- + +"What do you want?" + +The boy mentioned the name of his patron. + +"The master has gone away," replied the steward; "he set out yesterday +afternoon for Buenos Ayres, with his whole family." + +The boy was left speechless. Then he stammered, "But I--I have no one +here! I am alone!" and he offered the card. + +The steward took it, read it, and said surlily: "I don't know what to do +for you. I'll give it to him when he returns a month hence." + +"But I, I am alone; I am in need!" exclaimed the lad, in a supplicating +voice. + +"Eh? come now," said the other; "just as though there were not a plenty +of your sort from your country in Rosario! Be off, and do your begging +in Italy!" And he slammed the door in his face. + +The boy stood there as though he had been turned to stone. + +Then he picked up his bag again slowly, and went out, his heart torn +with anguish, with his mind in a whirl, assailed all at once by a +thousand anxious thoughts. What was to be done? Where was he to go? From +Rosario to Cordova was a day's journey, by rail. He had only a few lire +left. After deducting what he should be obliged to spend that day, he +would have next to nothing left. Where was he to find the money to pay +his fare? He could work--but how? To whom should he apply for work? Ask +alms? Ah, no! To be repulsed, insulted, humiliated, as he had been a +little while ago? No; never, never more--rather would he die! And at +this idea, and at the sight of the very long street which was lost in +the distance of the boundless plain, he felt his courage desert him once +more, flung his bag on the sidewalk, sat down with his back against the +wall, and bent his head between his hands, in an attitude of despair. + +People jostled him with their feet as they passed; the vehicles filled +the road with noise; several boys stopped to look at him. He remained +thus for a while. Then he was startled by a voice saying to him in a +mixture of Italian and Lombard dialect, "What is the matter, little +boy?" + +He raised his face at these words, and instantly sprang to his feet, +uttering an exclamation of wonder: "You here!" + +It was the old Lombard peasant with whom he had struck up a friendship +during the voyage. + +The amazement of the peasant was no less than his own; but the boy did +not leave him time to question him, and he rapidly recounted the state +of his affairs. + +"Now I am without a soldo. I must go to work. Find me work, that I may +get together a few lire. I will do anything; I will carry rubbish, I +will sweep the streets; I can run on errands, or even work in the +country; I am content to live on black bread; but only let it be so that +I may set out quickly, that I may find my mother once more. Do me this +charity, and find me work, find me work, for the love of God, for I can +do no more!" + +"The deuce! the deuce!" said the peasant, looking about him, and +scratching his chin. "What a story is this! To work, to work!--that is +soon said. Let us look about a little. Is there no way of finding thirty +lire among so many fellow-countrymen?" + +The boy looked at him, consoled by a ray of hope. + +"Come with me," said the peasant. + +"Where?" asked the lad, gathering up his bag again. + +"Come with me." + +The peasant started on; Marco followed him. They traversed a long +stretch of street together without speaking. The peasant halted at the +door of an inn which had for its sign a star, and an inscription +beneath, _The Star of Italy_. He thrust his face in, and turning to the +boy, he said cheerfully, "We have arrived at just the right moment." + +They entered a large room, where there were numerous tables, and many +men seated, drinking and talking loudly. The old Lombard approached the +first table, and from the manner in which he saluted the six guests who +were gathered around it, it was evident that he had been in their +company until a short time previously. They were red in the face, and +were clinking their glasses, and vociferating and laughing. + +"Comrades," said the Lombard, without any preface, remaining on his +feet, and presenting Marco, "here is a poor lad, our fellow-countryman, +who has come alone from Genoa to Buenos Ayres to seek his mother. At +Buenos Ayres they told him, 'She is not here; she is in Cordova.' He +came in a bark to Rosario, three days and three nights on the way, with +a couple of lines of recommendation. He presents the card; they make an +ugly face at him: he hasn't a centesimo to bless himself with. He is +here alone and in despair. He is a lad full of heart. Let us see a bit. +Can't we find enough to pay for his ticket to go to Cordova in search of +his mother? Are we to leave him here like a dog?" + +"Never in the world, by Heavens! That shall never be said!" they all +shouted at once, hammering on the table with their fists. "A +fellow-countryman of ours! Come hither, little fellow! We are emigrants! +See what a handsome young rogue! Out with your coppers, comrades! Bravo! +Come alone! He has daring! Drink a sup, _patriotta_! We'll send you to +your mother; never fear!" And one pinched his cheek, another slapped him +on the shoulder, a third relieved him of his bag; other emigrants rose +from the neighboring tables, and gathered about; the boy's story made +the round of the inn; three Argentine guests hurried in from the +adjoining room; and in less than ten minutes the Lombard peasant, who +was passing round the hat, had collected forty-two lire. + +"Do you see," he then said, turning to the boy, "how fast things are +done in America?" + +"Drink!" cried another to him, offering him a glass of wine; "to the +health of your mother!" + +All raised their glasses, and Marco repeated, "To the health of my--" +But a sob of joy choked him, and, setting the glass on the table, he +flung himself on the old man's neck. + +At daybreak on the following morning he set out for Cordova, ardent and +smiling, filled with presentiments of happiness. But there is no +cheerfulness that rules for long in the face of certain sinister aspects +of nature. The weather was close and dull; the train, which was nearly +empty, ran through an immense plain, destitute of every sign of +habitation. He found himself alone in a very long car, which resembled +those on trains for the wounded. He gazed to the right, he gazed to the +left, and he saw nothing but an endless solitude, strewn with tiny, +deformed trees, with contorted trunks and branches, in attitudes such as +were never seen before, almost of wrath and anguish, and a sparse and +melancholy vegetation, which gave to the plain the aspect of a ruined +cemetery. + +He dozed for half an hour; then resumed his survey: the spectacle was +still the same. The railway stations were deserted, like the dwellings +of hermits; and when the train stopped, not a sound was heard; it seemed +to him that he was alone in a lost train, abandoned in the middle of a +desert. It seemed to him as though each station must be the last, and +that he should then enter the mysterious regions of the savages. An icy +breeze nipped his face. On embarking at Genoa, towards the end of April, +it had not occurred to him that he should find winter in America, and +he was dressed for summer. + +After several hours of this he began to suffer from cold, and in +connection with the cold, from the fatigue of the days he had recently +passed through, filled as they had been with violent emotions, and from +sleepless and harassing nights. He fell asleep, slept a long time, and +awoke benumbed; he felt ill. Then a vague terror of falling ill, of +dying on the journey, seized upon him; a fear of being thrown out there, +in the middle of that desolate prairie, where his body would be torn in +pieces by dogs and birds of prey, like the corpses of horses and cows +which he had caught sight of every now and then beside the track, and +from which he had turned aside his eyes in disgust. In this state of +anxious illness, in the midst of that dark silence of nature, his +imagination grew excited, and looked on the dark side of things. + +Was he quite sure, after all, that he should find his mother at Cordova? +And what if she had not gone there? What if that gentleman in the Via +del los Artes had made a mistake? And what if she were dead? Thus +meditating, he fell asleep again, and dreamed that he was in Cordova, +and it was night, and that he heard cries from all the doors and all the +windows: "She is not here! She is not here! She is not here!" This +roused him with a start, in terror, and he saw at the other end of the +car three bearded men enveloped in shawls of various colors who were +staring at him and talking together in a low tone; and the suspicion +flashed across him that they were assassins, and that they wanted to +kill him for the sake of stealing his bag. Fear was added to his +consciousness of illness and to the cold; his fancy, already perturbed, +became distorted: the three men kept on staring at him; one of them +moved towards him; then his reason wandered, and rushing towards him +with arms wide open, he shrieked, "I have nothing; I am a poor boy; I +have come from Italy; I am in quest of my mother; I am alone: do not do +me any harm!" + +They instantly understood the situation; they took compassion on him, +caressed and soothed him, speaking to him many words which he did not +hear nor comprehend; and perceiving that his teeth were chattering with +cold, they wrapped one of their shawls around him, and made him sit down +again, so that he might go to sleep. And he did fall asleep once more, +when the twilight was descending. When they aroused him, he was at +Cordova. + +Ah, what a deep breath he drew, and with what impetuosity he flew from +the car! He inquired of one of the station employees where the house of +the engineer Mequinez was situated; the latter mentioned the name of a +church; it stood beside the church: the boy hastened away. + +It was night. He entered the city, and it seemed to him that he was +entering Rosario once more; that he again beheld those straight streets, +flanked with little white houses, and intersected by other very long and +straight streets. But there were very few people, and under the light of +the rare street lanterns, he encountered strange faces of a hue unknown +to him, between black and greenish; and raising his head from time to +time, he beheld churches of bizarre architecture which were outlined +black and vast against the sky. The city was dark and silent, but after +having traversed that immense desert, it appeared lively to him. He +inquired his way of a priest, speedily found the church and the house, +pulled the bell with one trembling hand, and pressed the other on his +breast to repress the beating of his heart, which was leaping into his +throat. + +An old woman, with a light in her hand, opened the door. + +The boy could not speak at once. + +"Whom do you want?" demanded the dame in Spanish. + +"The engineer Mequinez," replied Marco. + +The old woman made a motion to cross her arms on her breast, and +replied, with a shake of the head: "So you, too, have dealings with the +engineer Mequinez! It strikes me that it is time to stop this. We have +been worried for the last three months. It is not enough that the +newspapers have said it. We shall have to have it printed on the corner +of the street, that Signor Mequinez has gone to live at Tucuman!" + +The boy gave way to a gesture of despair. Then he gave way to an +outburst of passion. + +"So there is a curse upon me! I am doomed to die on the road, without +having found my mother! I shall go mad! I shall kill myself! My God! +what is the name of that country? Where is it? At what distance is it +situated?" + +"Eh, poor boy," replied the old woman, moved to pity; "a mere trifle! We +are four or five hundred miles from there, at least." + +The boy covered his face with his hands; then he asked with a sob, "And +now what am I to do!" + +"What am I to say to you, my poor child?" responded the dame: "I don't +know." + +But suddenly an idea struck her, and she added hastily: "Listen, now +that I think of it. There is one thing that you can do. Go down this +street, to the right, and at the third house you will find a courtyard; +there there is a _capataz_, a trader, who is setting out to-morrow for +Tucuman, with his wagons and his oxen. Go and see if he will take you, +and offer him your services; perhaps he will give you a place on his +wagons: go at once." + +The lad grasped his bag, thanked her as he ran, and two minutes later +found himself in a vast courtyard, lighted by lanterns, where a number +of men were engaged in loading sacks of grain on certain enormous carts +which resembled the movable houses of mountebanks, with rounded tops, +and very tall wheels; and a tall man with mustaches, enveloped in a sort +of mantle of black and white check, and with big boots, was directing +the work. + +The lad approached this man, and timidly proffered his request, saying +that he had come from Italy, and that he was in search of his mother. + +The _capataz_, which signifies the head (the head conductor of this +convoy of wagons), surveyed him from head to foot with a keen glance, +and replied drily, "I have no place." + +"I have fifteen lire," answered the boy in a supplicating tone; "I will +give you my fifteen lire. I will work on the journey; I will fetch the +water and fodder for the animals; I will perform all sorts of services. +A little bread will suffice for me. Make a little place for me, signor." + +The _capataz_ looked him over again, and replied with a better grace, +"There is no room; and then, we are not going to Tucuman; we are going +to another town, Santiago dell'Estero. We shall have to leave you at a +certain point, and you will still have a long way to go on foot." + +"Ah, I will make twice as long a journey!" exclaimed Marco; "I can walk; +do not worry about that; I shall get there by some means or other: make +a little room for me, signor, out of charity; for pity's sake, do not +leave me here alone!" + +"Beware; it is a journey of twenty days." + +"It matters nothing to me." + +"It is a hard journey." + +"I will endure everything." + +"You will have to travel alone." + +"I fear nothing, if I can only find my mother. Have compassion!" + +The _capataz_ drew his face close to a lantern, and scrutinized him. +Then he said, "Very well." + +The lad kissed his hand. + +"You shall sleep in one of the wagons to-night," added the _capataz_, as +he quitted him; "to-morrow morning, at four o'clock, I will wake you. +Good night." + +At four o'clock in the morning, by the light of the stars, the long +string of wagons was set in motion with a great noise; each cart was +drawn by six oxen, and all were followed by a great number of spare +animals for a change. + +The boy, who had been awakened and placed in one of the carts, on the +sacks, instantly fell again into a deep sleep. When he awoke, the convoy +had halted in a solitary spot, full in the sun, and all the men--the +_peones_--were seated round a quarter of calf, which was roasting in the +open air, beside a large fire, which was flickering in the wind. They +all ate together, took a nap, and then set out again; and thus the +journey continued, regulated like a march of soldiers. Every morning +they set out on the road at five o'clock, halted at nine, set out again +at five o'clock in the evening, and halted again at ten. The _peones_ +rode on horseback, and stimulated the oxen with long goads. The boy +lighted the fire for the roasting, gave the beasts their fodder, +polished up the lanterns, and brought water for drinking. + +The landscape passed before him like an indistinct vision: vast groves +of little brown trees; villages consisting of a few scattered houses, +with red and battlemented façades; very vast tracts, possibly the +ancient beds of great salt lakes, which gleamed white with salt as far +as the eye could reach; and on every hand, and always, the prairie, +solitude, silence. On very rare occasions they encountered two or three +travellers on horseback, followed by a herd of picked horses, who passed +them at a gallop, like a whirlwind. The days were all alike, as at sea, +wearisome and interminable; but the weather was fine. But the _peones_ +became more and more exacting every day, as though the lad were their +bond slave; some of them treated him brutally, with threats; all forced +him to serve them without mercy: they made him carry enormous bundles of +forage; they sent him to get water at great distances; and he, broken +with fatigue, could not even sleep at night, continually tossed about as +he was by the violent jolts of the wagon, and the deafening groaning of +the wheels and wooden axles. And in addition to this, the wind having +risen, a fine, reddish, greasy dust, which enveloped everything, +penetrated the wagon, made its way under the covers, filled his eyes and +mouth, robbed him of sight and breath, constantly, oppressively, +insupportably. Worn out with toil and lack of sleep, reduced to rags +and dirt, reproached and ill treated from morning till night, the poor +boy grew every day more dejected, and would have lost heart entirely if +the _capataz_ had not addressed a kind word to him now and then. He +often wept, unseen, in a corner of the wagon, with his face against his +bag, which no longer contained anything but rags. Every morning he rose +weaker and more discouraged, and as he looked out over the country, and +beheld always the same boundless and implacable plain, like a +terrestrial ocean, he said to himself: "Ah, I shall not hold out until +to-night! I shall not hold out until to-night! To-day I shall die on the +road!" And his toil increased, his ill treatment was redoubled. One +morning, in the absence of the _capataz_, one of the men struck him, +because he had delayed in fetching the water. And then they all began to +take turns at it, when they gave him an order, dealing him a kick, +saying: "Take that, you vagabond! Carry that to your mother!" + +His heart was breaking. He fell ill; for three days he remained in the +wagon, with a coverlet over him, fighting a fever, and seeing no one +except the _capataz_, who came to give him his drink and feel his pulse. +And then he believed that he was lost, and invoked his mother in +despair, calling her a hundred times by name: "O my mother! my mother! +Help me! Come to me, for I am dying! Oh, my poor mother, I shall never +see you again! My poor mother, who will find me dead beside the way!" +And he folded his hands over his bosom and prayed. Then he grew better, +thanks to the care of the _capataz_, and recovered; but with his +recovery arrived the most terrible day of his journey, the day on which +he was to be left to his own devices. They had been on the way for more +than two weeks; when they arrived at the point where the road to +Tucuman parted from that which leads to Santiago dell'Estero, the +_capataz_ announced to him that they must separate. He gave him some +instructions with regard to the road, tied his bag on his shoulders in a +manner which would not annoy him as he walked, and, breaking off short, +as though he feared that he should be affected, he bade him farewell. +The boy had barely time to kiss him on one arm. The other men, too, who +had treated him so harshly, seemed to feel a little pity at the sight of +him left thus alone, and they made signs of farewell to him as they +moved away. And he returned the salute with his hand, stood watching the +convoy until it was lost to sight in the red dust of the plain, and then +set out sadly on his road. + + [Illustration: "HE STOOD WATCHING THE CONVOY UNTIL IT WAS LOST TO + SIGHT."--Page 263.] + +One thing, on the other hand, comforted him a little from the first. +After all those days of travel across that endless plain, which was +forever the same, he saw before him a chain of mountains very high and +blue, with white summits, which reminded him of the Alps, and gave him +the feeling of having drawn near to his own country once more. They were +the Andes, the dorsal spine of the American continent, that immense +chain which extends from Tierra del Fuego to the glacial sea of the +Arctic pole, through a hundred and ten degrees of latitude. And he was +also comforted by the fact that the air seemed to him to grow constantly +warmer; and this happened, because, in ascending towards the north, he +was slowly approaching the tropics. At great distances apart there were +tiny groups of houses with a petty shop; and he bought something to eat. +He encountered men on horseback; every now and then he saw women and +children seated on the ground, motionless and grave, with faces +entirely new to him, of an earthen hue, with oblique eyes and prominent +cheek-bones, who looked at him intently, and accompanied him with their +gaze, turning their heads slowly like automatons. They were Indians. + +The first day he walked as long as his strength would permit, and slept +under a tree. On the second day he made considerably less progress, and +with less spirit. His shoes were dilapidated, his feet wounded, his +stomach weakened by bad food. Towards evening he began to be alarmed. He +had heard, in Italy, that in this land there were serpents; he fancied +that he heard them crawling; he halted, then set out on a run, and with +cold chills in all his bones. At times he was seized with a profound +pity for himself, and he wept silently as he walked. Then he thought, +"Oh, how much my mother would suffer if she knew that I am afraid!" and +this thought restored his courage. Then, in order to distract his +thoughts from fear, he meditated much of her; he recalled to mind her +words when she had set out from Genoa, and the movement with which she +had arranged the coverlet beneath his chin when he was in bed, and when +he was a baby; for every time that she took him in her arms, she said to +him, "Stay here a little while with me"; and thus she remained for a +long time, with her head resting on his, thinking, thinking. + +And he said to himself: "Shall I see thee again, dear mother? Shall I +arrive at the end of my journey, my mother?" And he walked on and on, +among strange trees, vast plantations of sugar-cane, and fields without +end, always with those blue mountains in front of him, which cut the sky +with their exceedingly lofty crests. Four days, five days--a week, +passed. His strength was rapidly declining, his feet were bleeding. +Finally, one evening at sunset, they said to him:-- + +"Tucuman is fifty miles from here." + +He uttered a cry of joy, and hastened his steps, as though he had, in +that moment, regained all his lost vigor. But it was a brief illusion. +His forces suddenly abandoned him, and he fell upon the brink of a +ditch, exhausted. But his heart was beating with content. The heaven, +thickly sown with the most brilliant stars, had never seemed so +beautiful to him. He contemplated it, as he lay stretched out on the +grass to sleep, and thought that, perhaps, at that very moment, his +mother was gazing at him. And he said:-- + +"O my mother, where art thou? What art thou doing at this moment? Dost +thou think of thy son? Dost thou think of thy Marco, who is so near to +thee?" + +Poor Marco! If he could have seen in what a case his mother was at that +moment, he would have made a superhuman effort to proceed on his way, +and to reach her a few hours earlier. She was ill in bed, in a +ground-floor room of a lordly mansion, where dwelt the entire Mequinez +family. The latter had become very fond of her, and had helped her a +great deal. The poor woman had already been ailing when the engineer +Mequinez had been obliged unexpectedly to set out far from Buenos Ayres, +and she had not benefited at all by the fine air of Cordova. But then, +the fact that she had received no response to her letters from her +husband, nor from her cousin, the presentiment, always lively, of some +great misfortune, the continual anxiety in which she had lived, between +the parting and staying, expecting every day some bad news, had caused +her to grow worse out of all proportion. Finally, a very serious malady +had declared itself,--a strangled internal rupture. She had not risen +from her bed for a fortnight. A surgical operation was necessary to save +her life. And at precisely the moment when Marco was apostrophizing her, +the master and mistress of the house were standing beside her bed, +arguing with her, with great gentleness, to persuade her to allow +herself to be operated on, and she was persisting in her refusal, and +weeping. A good physician of Tucuman had come in vain a week before. + +"No, my dear master," she said; "do not count upon it; I have not the +strength to resist; I should die under the surgeon's knife. It is better +to allow me to die thus. I no longer cling to life. All is at an end for +me. It is better to die before learning what has happened to my family." + +And her master and mistress opposed, and said that she must take +courage, that she would receive a reply to the last letters, which had +been sent directly to Genoa; that she must allow the operation to be +performed; that it must be done for the sake of her family. But this +suggestion of her children only aggravated her profound discouragement, +which had for a long time prostrated her, with increasing anguish. At +these words she burst into tears. + +"O my sons! my sons!" she exclaimed, wringing her hands; "perhaps they +are no longer alive! It is better that I should die also. I thank you, +my good master and mistress; I thank you from my heart. But it is better +that I should die. At all events, I am certain that I shall not be cured +by this operation. Thanks for all your care, my good master and +mistress. It is useless for the doctor to come again after to-morrow. I +wish to die. It is my fate to die here. I have decided." + +And they began again to console her, and to repeat, "Don't say that," +and to take her hand and beseech her. + +But she closed her eyes then in exhaustion, and fell into a doze, so +that she appeared to be dead. And her master and mistress remained there +a little while, by the faint light of a taper, watching with great +compassion that admirable mother, who, for the sake of saving her +family, had come to die six thousand miles from her country, to die +after having toiled so hard, poor woman! and she was so honest, so good, +so unfortunate. + +Early on the morning of the following day, Marco, bent and limping, with +his bag on his back, entered the city of Tucuman, one of the youngest +and most flourishing towns of the Argentine Republic. It seemed to him +that he beheld again Cordova, Rosario, Buenos Ayres: there were the same +straight and extremely long streets, the same low white houses, but on +every hand there was a new and magnificent vegetation, a perfumed air, a +marvellous light, a sky limpid and profound, such as he had never seen +even in Italy. As he advanced through the streets, he experienced once +more the feverish agitation which had seized on him at Buenos Ayres; he +stared at the windows and doors of all the houses; he stared at all the +women who passed him, with an anxious hope that he might meet his +mother; he would have liked to question every one, but did not dare to +stop any one. All the people who were standing at their doors turned to +gaze after the poor, tattered, dusty lad, who showed that he had come +from afar. And he was seeking, among all these people, a countenance +which should inspire him with confidence, in order to direct to its +owner that tremendous query, when his eyes fell upon the sign of an inn +upon which was inscribed an Italian name. Inside were a man with +spectacles, and two women. He approached the door slowly, and summoning +up a resolute spirit, he inquired:-- + +"Can you tell me, signor, where the family Mequinez is?" + +"The engineer Mequinez?" asked the innkeeper in his turn. + +"The engineer Mequinez," replied the lad in a thread of a voice. + +"The Mequinez family is not in Tucuman," replied the innkeeper. + +A cry of desperate pain, like that of one who has been stabbed, formed +an echo to these words. + +The innkeeper and the women rose, and some neighbors ran up. + +"What's the matter? what ails you, my boy?" said the innkeeper, drawing +him into the shop and making him sit down. "The deuce! there's no reason +for despairing! The Mequinez family is not here, but at a little +distance off, a few hours from Tucuman." + +"Where? where?" shrieked Marco, springing up like one restored to life. + +"Fifteen miles from here," continued the man, "on the river, at +Saladillo, in a place where a big sugar factory is being built, and a +cluster of houses; Signor Mequinez's house is there; every one knows it: +you can reach it in a few hours." + +"I was there a month ago," said a youth, who had hastened up at the cry. + +Marco stared at him with wide-open eyes, and asked him hastily, turning +pale as he did so, "Did you see the servant of Signor Mequinez--the +Italian?" + +"The Genoese? Yes; I saw her." + +Marco burst into a convulsive sob, which was half a laugh and half a +sob. Then, with a burst of violent resolution: "Which way am I to go? +quick, the road! I shall set out instantly; show me the way!" + +"But it is a day's march," they all told him, in one breath. "You are +weary; you should rest; you can set out to-morrow." + +"Impossible! impossible!" replied the lad. "Tell me the way; I will not +wait another instant; I shall set out at once, were I to die on the +road!" + +On perceiving him so inflexible, they no longer opposed him. "May God +accompany you!" they said to him. "Look out for the path through the +forest. A fair journey to you, little Italian!" A man accompanied him +outside of the town, pointed out to him the road, gave him some counsel, +and stood still to watch him start. At the expiration of a few minutes, +the lad disappeared, limping, with his bag on his shoulders, behind the +thick trees which lined the road. + +That night was a dreadful one for the poor sick woman. She suffered +atrocious pain, which wrung from her shrieks that were enough to burst +her veins, and rendered her delirious at times. The women waited on her. +She lost her head. Her mistress ran in, from time to time, in affright. +All began to fear that, even if she had decided to allow herself to be +operated on, the doctor, who was not to come until the next day, would +have arrived too late. During the moments when she was not raving, +however, it was evident that her most terrible torture arose not from +her bodily pains, but from the thought of her distant family. +Emaciated, wasted away, with changed visage, she thrust her hands +through her hair, with a gesture of desperation, and shrieked:-- + +"My God! My God! To die so far away, to die without seeing them again! +My poor children, who will be left without a mother, my poor little +creatures, my poor darlings! My Marco, who is still so small! only as +tall as this, and so good and affectionate! You do not know what a boy +he was! If you only knew, signora! I could not detach him from my neck +when I set out; he sobbed in a way to move your pity; he sobbed; it +seemed as though he knew that he would never behold his poor mother +again. Poor Marco, my poor baby! I thought that my heart would break! +Ah, if I had only died then, died while they were bidding me farewell! +If I had but dropped dead! Without a mother, my poor child, he who loved +me so dearly, who needed me so much! without a mother, in misery, he +will be forced to beg! He, Marco, my Marco, will stretch out his hand, +famishing! O eternal God! No! I will not die! The doctor! Call him at +once I let him come, let him cut me, let him cleave my breast, let him +drive me mad; but let him save my life! I want to recover; I want to +live, to depart, to flee, to-morrow, at once! The doctor! Help! help!" + +And the women seized her hands and soothed her, and made her calm +herself little by little, and spoke to her of God and of hope. And then +she fell back again into a mortal dejection, wept with her hands +clutched in her gray hair, moaned like an infant, uttering a prolonged +lament, and murmuring from time to time:-- + +"O my Genoa! My house! All that sea!--O my Marco, my poor Marco! Where +is he now, my poor darling?" + +It was midnight; and her poor Marco, after having passed many hours on +the brink of a ditch, his strength exhausted, was then walking through a +forest of gigantic trees, monsters of vegetation, huge boles like the +pillars of a cathedral, which interlaced their enormous crests, silvered +by the moon, at a wonderful height. Vaguely, amid the half gloom, he +caught glimpses of myriads of trunks of all forms, upright, inclined, +contorted, crossed in strange postures of menace and of conflict; some +overthrown on the earth, like towers which had fallen bodily, and +covered with a dense and confused mass of vegetation, which seemed like +a furious throng, disputing the ground span by span; others collected in +great groups, vertical and serrated, like trophies of titanic lances, +whose tips touched the clouds; a superb grandeur, a prodigious disorder +of colossal forms, the most majestically terrible spectacle which +vegetable nature ever presented. + +At times he was overwhelmed by a great stupor. But his mind instantly +took flight again towards his mother. He was worn out, with bleeding +feet, alone in the middle of this formidable forest, where it was only +at long intervals that he saw tiny human habitations, which at the foot +of these trees seemed like the ant-hills, or some buffalo asleep beside +the road; he was exhausted, but he was not conscious of his exhaustion; +he was alone, and he felt no fear. The grandeur of the forest rendered +his soul grand; his nearness to his mother gave him the strength and the +hardihood of a man; the memory of the ocean, of the alarms and the +sufferings which he had undergone and vanquished, of the toil which he +had endured, of the iron constancy which he had displayed, caused him to +uplift his brow. All his strong and noble Genoese blood flowed back to +his heart in an ardent tide of joy and audacity. And a new thing took +place within him; while he had, up to this time, borne in his mind an +image of his mother, dimmed and paled somewhat by the two years of +absence, at that moment the image grew clear; he again beheld her face, +perfect and distinct, as he had not beheld it for a long time; he beheld +it close to him, illuminated, speaking; he again beheld the most +fleeting motions of her eyes, and of her lips, all her attitudes, all +the shades of her thoughts; and urged on by these pursuing +recollections, he hastened his steps; and a new affection, an +unspeakable tenderness, grew in him, grew in his heart, making sweet and +quiet tears to flow down his face; and as he advanced through the gloom, +he spoke to her, he said to her the words which he would murmur in her +ear in a little while more:-- + +"I am here, my mother; behold me here. I will never leave you again; we +will return home together, and I will remain always beside you on board +the ship, close beside you, and no one shall ever part me from you +again, no one, never more, so long as I have life!" + +And in the meantime he did not observe how the silvery light of the moon +was dying away on the summits of the gigantic trees in the delicate +whiteness of the dawn. + +At eight o'clock on that morning, the doctor from Tucuman, a young +Argentine, was already by the bedside of the sick woman, in company with +an assistant, endeavoring, for the last time, to persuade her to permit +herself to be operated on; and the engineer Mequinez and his wife added +their warmest persuasions to those of the former. But all was in vain. +The woman, feeling her strength exhausted, had no longer any faith in +the operation; she was perfectly certain that she should die under it, +or that she should only survive it a few hours, after having suffered in +vain pains that were more atrocious than those of which she should die +in any case. The doctor lingered to tell her once more:-- + +"But the operation is a safe one; your safety is certain, provided you +exercise a little courage! And your death is equally certain if you +refuse!" It was a sheer waste of words. + +"No," she replied in a faint voice, "I still have courage to die; but I +no longer have any to suffer uselessly. Leave me to die in peace." + +The doctor desisted in discouragement. No one said anything more. Then +the woman turned her face towards her mistress, and addressed to her her +last prayers in a dying voice. + +"Dear, good signora," she said with a great effort, sobbing, "you will +send this little money and my poor effects to my family--through the +consul. I hope that they may all be alive. My heart presages well in +these, my last moments. You will do me the favor to write--that I have +always thought of them, that I have always toiled for them--for my +children--that my sole grief was not to see them once more--but that I +died courageously--with resignation--blessing them; and that I recommend +to my husband--and to my elder son--the youngest, my poor Marco--that I +bore him in my heart until the last moment--" And suddenly she became +excited, and shrieked, as she clasped her hands: "My Marco, my baby, my +baby! My life!--" But on casting her tearful eyes round her, she +perceived that her mistress was no longer there; she had been secretly +called away. She sought her master; he had disappeared. No one remained +with her except the two nurses and the assistant. She heard in the +adjoining room the sound of hurried footsteps, a murmur of hasty and +subdued voices, and repressed exclamations. The sick woman fixed her +glazing eyes on the door, in expectation. At the end of a few minutes +she saw the doctor appear with an unusual expression on his face; then +her mistress and master, with their countenances also altered. All three +gazed at her with a singular expression, and exchanged a few words in a +low tone. She fancied that the doctor said to her mistress, "Better let +it be at once." She did not understand. + +"Josefa," said her mistress to the sick woman, in a trembling voice, "I +have some good news for you. Prepare your heart for good news." + +The woman observed her intently. + +"News," pursued the lady, with increasing agitation, "which will give +you great joy." + +The sick woman's eyes dilated. + +"Prepare yourself," continued her mistress, "to see a person--of whom +you are very fond." + +The woman raised her head with a vigorous movement, and began to gaze in +rapid succession, first at the lady and then at the door, with flashing +eyes. + +"A person," added the lady, turning pale, "who has just +arrived--unexpectedly." + +"Who is it?" shrieked the woman, with a strange and choked voice, like +that of a person in terror. An instant later she gave vent to a shrill +scream, sprang into a sitting posture in her bed, and remained +motionless, with starting eyes, and her hands pressed to her temples, as +in the presence of a supernatural apparition. + +Marco, tattered and dusty, stood there on the threshold, held back by +the doctor's hand on one arm. + +The woman uttered three shrieks: "God! God! My God!" + +Marco rushed forward; she stretched out to him her fleshless arms, and +straining him to her heart with the strength of a tiger, she burst into +a violent laugh, broken by deep, tearless sobs, which caused her to fall +back suffocating on her pillow. + +But she speedily recovered herself, and mad with joy, she shrieked as +she covered his head with kisses: "How do you come here? Why? Is it you? +How you have grown! Who brought you? Are you alone? You are not ill? It +is you, Marco! It is not a dream! My God! Speak to me!" + +Then she suddenly changed her tone: "No! Be silent! Wait!" And turning +to the doctor, she said with precipitation: "Quick, doctor! this +instant! I want to get well. I am ready. Do not lose a moment. Take +Marco away, so that he may not hear.--Marco, my love, it is nothing. I +will tell you about it. One more kiss. Go!--Here I am, doctor." + +Marco was taken away. The master, mistress, and women retired in haste; +the surgeon and his assistant remained behind, and closed the door. + +Signor Mequinez attempted to lead Marco to a distant room, but it was +impossible; he seemed rooted to the pavement. + +"What is it?" he asked. "What is the matter with my mother? What are +they doing to her?" + +And then Mequinez said softly, still trying to draw him away: "Here! +Listen to me. I will tell you now. Your mother is ill; she must undergo +a little operation; I will explain it all to you: come with me." + +"No," replied the lad, resisting; "I want to stay here. Explain it to me +here." + +The engineer heaped words on words, as he drew him away; the boy began +to grow terrified and to tremble. + +Suddenly an acute cry, like that of one wounded to the death, rang +through the whole house. + +The boy responded with another desperate shriek, "My mother is dead!" + +The doctor appeared on the threshold and said, "Your mother is saved." + +The boy gazed at him for a moment, and then flung himself at his feet, +sobbing, "Thanks, doctor!" + +But the doctor raised him with a gesture, saying: "Rise! It is you, you +heroic child, who have saved your mother!" + + +SUMMER. + + Wednesday, 24th. + +Marco, the Genoese, is the last little hero but one whose acquaintance +we shall make this year; only one remains for the month of June. There +are only two more monthly examinations, twenty-six days of lessons, six +Thursdays, and five Sundays. The air of the end of the year is already +perceptible. The trees of the garden, leafy and in blossom, cast a fine +shade on the gymnastic apparatus. The scholars are already dressed in +summer clothes. And it is beautiful, at the close of school and the exit +of the classes, to see how different everything is from what it was in +the months that are past. The long locks which touched the shoulders +have disappeared; all heads are closely shorn; bare legs and throats are +to be seen; little straw hats of every shape, with ribbons that descend +even on the backs of the wearers; shirts and neckties of every hue; all +the little children with something red or blue about them, a facing, a +border, a tassel, a scrap of some vivid color tacked on somewhere by the +mother, so that even the poorest may make a good figure; and many come +to school without any hats, as though they had run away from home. Some +wear the white gymnasium suit. There is one of Schoolmistress Delcati's +boys who is red from head to foot, like a boiled crab. Several are +dressed like sailors. + +But the finest of all is the little mason, who has donned a big straw +hat, which gives him the appearance of a half-candle with a shade over +it; and it is ridiculous to see him make his hare's face beneath it. +Coretti, too, has abandoned his catskin cap, and wears an old +travelling-cap of gray silk. Votini has a sort of Scotch dress, all +decorated; Crossi displays his bare breast; Precossi is lost inside of a +blue blouse belonging to the blacksmith-ironmonger. + +And Garoffi? Now that he has been obliged to discard the cloak beneath +which he concealed his wares, all his pockets are visible, bulging with +all sorts of huckster's trifles, and the lists of his lotteries force +themselves out. Now all his pockets allow their contents to be +seen,--fans made of half a newspaper, knobs of canes, darts to fire at +birds, herbs, and maybugs which creep out of his pockets and crawl +gradually over the jackets. + +Many of the little fellows carry bunches of flowers to the mistresses. +The mistresses are dressed in summer garments also, of cheerful tints; +all except the "little nun," who is always in black; and the mistress +with the red feather still has her red feather, and a knot of red ribbon +at her neck, all tumbled with the little paws of her scholars, who +always make her laugh and flee. + +It is the season, too, of cherry-trees, of butterflies, of music in the +streets, and of rambles in the country; many of the fourth grade run +away to bathe in the Po; all have their hearts already set on the +vacation; each day they issue forth from school more impatient and +content than the day before. Only it pains me to see Garrone in +mourning, and my poor mistress of the primary, who is thinner and whiter +than ever, and who coughs with ever-increasing violence. She walks all +bent over now, and salutes me so sadly! + + +POETRY. + + Friday, 26th. + + You are now beginning to comprehend the poetry of school, Enrico; + but at present you only survey the school from within. It will seem + much more beautiful and more poetic to you twenty years from now, + when you go thither to escort your own boys; and you will then + survey it from the outside, as I do. While waiting for school to + close, I wander about the silent street, in the vicinity of the + edifice, and lay my ear to the windows of the ground floor, which + are screened by Venetian blinds. At one window I hear the voice of + a schoolmistress saying:-- + + "Ah, what a shape for a _t_! It won't do, my dear boy! What would + your father say to it?" + + At the next window there resounds the heavy voice of a master, + which is saying:-- + + "I will buy fifty metres of stuff--at four lire and a half the + metre--and sell it again--" + + Further on there is the mistress with the red feather, who is + reading aloud:-- + + "Then Pietro Micca, with the lighted train of powder--" + + From the adjoining class-room comes the chirping of a thousand + birds, which signifies that the master has stepped out for a + moment. I proceed onward, and as I turn the corner, I hear a + scholar weeping, and the voice of the mistress reproving and + comforting him. From the lofty windows issue verses, names of great + and good men, fragments of sentences which inculcate virtue, the + love of country, and courage. Then ensue moments of silence, in + which one would declare that the edifice is empty, and it does not + seem possible that there should be seven hundred boys within; noisy + outbursts of hilarity become audible, provoked by the jest of a + master in a good humor. And the people who are passing halt, and + all direct a glance of sympathy towards that pleasing building, + which contains so much youth and so many hopes. Then a sudden dull + sound is heard, a clapping to of books and portfolios, a shuffling + of feet, a buzz which spreads from room to room, and from the lower + to the higher, as at the sudden diffusion of a bit of good news: it + is the beadle, who is making his rounds, announcing the dismissal + of school. And at that sound a throng of women, men, girls, and + youths press closer from this side and that of the door, waiting + for their sons, brothers, or grandchildren; while from the doors of + the class-rooms little boys shoot forth into the big hall, as from + a spout, seize their little capes and hats, creating a great + confusion with them on the floor, and dancing all about, until the + beadle chases them forth one after the other. And at length they + come forth, in long files, stamping their feet. And then from all + the relatives there descends a shower of questions: "Did you know + your lesson?--How much work did they give you?--What have you to do + for to-morrow!--When does the monthly examination come?" + + And then even the poor mothers who do not know how to read, open + the copy-books, gaze at the problems, and ask particulars: "Only + eight?--Ten with commendation?--Nine for the lesson?" + + And they grow uneasy, and rejoice, and interrogate the masters, and + talk of prospectuses and examinations. How beautiful all this is, + and how great and how immense is its promise for the world! + + THY FATHER. + + +THE DEAF-MUTE. + + Sunday, 28th. + +The month of May could not have had a better ending than my visit of +this morning. We heard a jingling of the bell, and all ran to see what +it meant. I heard my father say in a tone of astonishment:-- + +"You here, Giorgio?" + +Giorgio was our gardener in Chieri, who now has his family at Condove, +and who had just arrived from Genoa, where he had disembarked on the +preceding day, on his return from Greece, where he has been working on +the railway for the last three years. He had a big bundle in his arms. +He has grown a little older, but his face is still red and jolly. + +My father wished to have him enter; but he refused, and suddenly +inquired, assuming a serious expression: + +"How is my family? How is Gigia?" + +"She was well a few days ago," replied my mother. + +Giorgio uttered a deep sigh. + +"Oh, God be praised! I had not the courage to present myself at the +Deaf-mute Institution until I had heard about her. I will leave my +bundle here, and run to get her. It is three years since I have seen my +poor little daughter! Three years since I have seen any of my people!" + +My father said to me, "Accompany him." + +"Excuse me; one word more," said the gardener, from the landing. + +My father interrupted him, "And your affairs?" + +"All right," the other replied. "Thanks to God, I have brought back a +few soldi. But I wanted to inquire. Tell me how the education of the +little dumb girl is getting on. When I left her, she was a poor little +animal, poor thing! I don't put much faith in those colleges. Has she +learned how to make signs? My wife did write to me, to be sure, 'She is +learning to speak; she is making progress.' But I said to myself, What +is the use of her learning to talk if I don't know how to make the signs +myself? How shall we manage to understand each other, poor little thing? +That is well enough to enable them to understand each other, one +unfortunate to comprehend another unfortunate. How is she getting on, +then? How is she?" + +My father smiled, and replied:-- + +"I shall not tell you anything about it; you will see; go, go; don't +waste another minute!" + +We took our departure; the institute is close by. As we went along with +huge strides, the gardener talked to me, and grew sad. + +"Ah, my poor Gigia! To be born with such an infirmity! To think that I +have never heard her call me _father_; that she has never heard me call +her _my daughter_; that she has never either heard or uttered a single +word since she has been in the world! And it is lucky that a charitable +gentleman was found to pay the expenses of the institution. But that is +all--she could not enter there until she was eight years old. She has +not been at home for three years. She is now going on eleven. And she +has grown? Tell me, she has grown? She is in good spirits?" + +"You will see in a moment, you will see in a moment," I replied, +hastening my pace. + +"But where is this institution?" he demanded. "My wife went with her +after I was gone. It seems to me that it ought to be near here." + +We had just reached it. We at once entered the parlor. An attendant came +to meet us. + +"I am the father of Gigia Voggi," said the gardener; "give me my +daughter instantly." + +"They are at play," replied the attendant; "I will go and inform the +matron." And he hastened away. + +The gardener could no longer speak nor stand still; he stared at all +four walls, without seeing anything. + +The door opened; a teacher entered, dressed in black, holding a little +girl by the hand. + +Father and daughter gazed at one another for an instant; then flew into +each other's arms, uttering a cry. + +The girl was dressed in a white and reddish striped material, with a +gray apron. She is a little taller than I. She cried, and clung to her +father's neck with both arms. + +Her father disengaged himself, and began to survey her from head to +foot, panting as though he had run a long way; and he exclaimed: "Ah, +how she has grown! How pretty she has become! Oh, my dear, poor Gigia! +My poor mute child!--Are you her teacher, signora? Tell her to make +some of her signs to me; for I shall be able to understand something, +and then I will learn little by little. Tell her to make me understand +something with her gestures." + +The teacher smiled, and said in a low voice to the girl, "Who is this +man who has come to see you?" + +And the girl replied with a smile, in a coarse, strange, dissonant +voice, like that of a savage who was speaking for the first time in our +language, but with a distinct pronunciation, "He is my fa-ther." + +The gardener fell back a pace, and shrieked like a madman: "She speaks! +Is it possible! Is it possible! She speaks? Can you speak, my child? can +you speak? Say something to me: you can speak?" and he embraced her +afresh, and kissed her thrice on the brow. "But it is not with signs +that she talks, signora; it is not with her fingers? What does this +mean?" + +"No, Signor Voggi," rejoined the teacher, "it is not with signs. That +was the old way. Here we teach the new method, the oral method. How is +it that you did not know it?" + +"I knew nothing about it!" replied the gardener, lost in amazement. "I +have been abroad for the last three years. Oh, they wrote to me, and I +did not understand. I am a blockhead. Oh, my daughter, you understand +me, then? Do you hear my voice? Answer me: do you hear me? Do you hear +what I say?" + +"Why, no, my good man," said the teacher; "she does not hear your voice, +because she is deaf. She understands from the movements of your lips +what the words are that you utter; this is the way the thing is managed; +but she does not hear your voice any more than she does the words which +she speaks to you; she pronounces them, because we have taught her, +letter by letter, how she must place her lips and move her tongue, and +what effort she must make with her chest and throat, in order to emit a +sound." + +The gardener did not understand, and stood with his mouth wide open. He +did not yet believe it. + +"Tell me, Gigia," he asked his daughter, whispering in her ear, "are you +glad that your father has come back?" and he raised his face again, and +stood awaiting her reply. + +The girl looked at him thoughtfully, and said nothing. + +Her father was perturbed. + +The teacher laughed. Then she said: "My good man, she does not answer +you, because she did not see the movements of your lips: you spoke in +her ear! Repeat your question, keeping your face well before hers." + +The father, gazing straight in her face, repeated, "Are you glad that +your father has come back? that he is not going away again?" + +The girl, who had observed his lips attentively, seeking even to see +inside his mouth, replied frankly:-- + +"Yes, I am de-light-ed that you have re-turned, that you are not go-ing +a-way a-gain--nev-er a-gain." + +Her father embraced her impetuously, and then in great haste, in order +to make quite sure, he overwhelmed her with questions. + +"What is mamma's name?" + +"An-to-nia." + +"What is the name of your little sister?" + +"Ad-e-laide." + +"What is the name of this college?" + +"The Deaf-mute Insti-tution." + +"How many are two times ten?" + +"Twen-ty." + +While we thought that he was laughing for joy, he suddenly burst out +crying. But this was the result of joy also. + +"Take courage," said the teacher to him; "you have reason to rejoice, +not to weep. You see that you are making your daughter cry also. You are +pleased, then?" + +The gardener grasped the teacher's hand and kissed it two or three +times, saying: "Thanks, thanks, thanks! a hundred thanks, a thousand +thanks, dear Signora Teacher! and forgive me for not knowing how to say +anything else!" + +"But she not only speaks," said the teacher; "your daughter also knows +how to write. She knows how to reckon. She knows the names of all common +objects. She knows a little history and geography. She is now in the +regular class. When she has passed through the two remaining classes, +she will know much more. When she leaves here, she will be in a +condition to adopt a profession. We already have deaf-mutes who stand in +the shops to serve customers, and they perform their duties like any one +else." + +Again the gardener was astounded. It seemed as though his ideas were +becoming confused again. He stared at his daughter and scratched his +head. His face demanded another explanation. + +Then the teacher turned to the attendant and said to him:-- + +"Call a child of the preparatory class for me." + +The attendant returned, in a short time, with a deaf-mute of eight or +nine years, who had entered the institution a few days before. + +"This girl," said the mistress, "is one of those whom we are instructing +in the first elements. This is the way it is done. I want to make her +say _a_. Pay attention." + +The teacher opened her mouth, as one opens it to pronounce the vowel +_a_, and motioned to the child to open her mouth in the same manner. +Then the mistress made her a sign to emit her voice. She did so; but +instead of _a_, she pronounced _o_. + +"No," said the mistress, "that is not right." And taking the child's two +hands, she placed one of them on her own throat and the other on her +chest, and repeated, "_a_." + +The child felt with her hands the movements of the mistress's throat and +chest, opened her mouth again as before, and pronounced extremely well, +"_a_." + +In the same manner, the mistress made her pronounce _c_ and _d_, still +keeping the two little hands on her own throat and chest. + +"Now do you understand?" she inquired. + +The father understood; but he seemed more astonished than when he had +not understood. + +"And they are taught to speak in the same way?" he asked, after a moment +of reflection, gazing at the teacher. "You have the patience to teach +them to speak in that manner, little by little, and so many of them? one +by one--through years and years? But you are saints; that's what you +are! You are angels of paradise! There is not in the world a reward that +is worthy of you! What is there that I can say? Ah! leave me alone with +my daughter a little while now. Let me have her to myself for five +minutes." + +And drawing her to a seat apart he began to interrogate her, and she to +reply, and he laughed with beaming eyes, slapping his fists down on his +knees; and he took his daughter's hands, and stared at her, beside +himself with delight at hearing her, as though her voice had been one +which came from heaven; then he asked the teacher, "Would the Signor +Director permit me to thank him?" + +"The director is not here," replied the mistress; "but there is another +person whom you should thank. Every little girl here is given into the +charge of an older companion, who acts the part of sister or mother to +her. Your little girl has been intrusted to the care of a deaf-mute of +seventeen, the daughter of a baker, who is kind and very fond of her; +she has been assisting her for two years to dress herself every morning; +she combs her hair, she teaches her to sew, she mends her clothes, she +is good company for her.--Luigia, what is the name of your mamma in the +institute?" + +The girl smiled, and said, "Ca-te-rina Gior-dano." Then she said to her +father, "She is ve-ry, ve-ry good." + +The attendant, who had withdrawn at a signal from the mistress, returned +almost at once with a light-haired deaf-mute, a robust girl, with a +cheerful countenance, and also dressed in the red and white striped +stuff, with a gray apron; she paused at the door and blushed; then she +bent her head with a smile. She had the figure of a woman, but seemed +like a child. + +Giorgio's daughter instantly ran to her, took her by the arm, like a +child, and drew her to her father, saying, in her heavy voice, +"Ca-te-rina Gior-dano." + +"Ah, what a splendid girl!" exclaimed her father; and he stretched out +one hand to caress her, but drew it back again, and repeated, "Ah, what +a good girl! May God bless her, may He grant her all good fortune, all +consolations; may He make her and hers always happy, so good a girl is +she, my poor Gigia! It is an honest workingman, the poor father of a +family, who wishes you this with all his heart." + +The big girl caressed the little one, still keeping her face bent, and +smiling, and the gardener continued to gaze at her, as at a madonna. + +"You can take your daughter with you for the day," said the mistress. + +"Won't I take her, though!" rejoined the gardener. "I'll take her to +Condove, and fetch her back to-morrow morning. Think for a bit whether I +won't take her!" + +The girl ran off to dress. + +"It is three years since I have seen her!" repeated the gardener. "Now +she speaks! I will take her to Condove with me on the instant. But first +I shall take a ramble about Turin, with my deaf-mute on my arm, so that +all may see her, and take her to see some of my friends! Ah, what a +beautiful day! This is consolation indeed!--Here's your father's arm, my +Gigia." + +The girl, who had returned with a little mantle and cap on, took his +arm. + +"And thanks to all!" said the father, as he reached the threshold. +"Thanks to all, with my whole soul! I shall come back another time to +thank you all again." + +He stood for a moment in thought, then disengaged himself abruptly from +the girl, turned back, fumbling in his waistcoat with his hand, and +shouted like a man in a fury:-- + +"Come now, I am not a poor devil! So here, I leave twenty lire for the +institution,--a fine new gold piece." + +And with a tremendous bang, he deposited his gold piece on the table. + +"No, no, my good man," said the mistress, with emotion. "Take back your +money. I cannot accept it. Take it back. It is not my place. You shall +see about that when the director is here. But he will not accept +anything either; be sure of that. You have toiled too hard to earn it, +poor man. We shall be greatly obliged to you, all the same." + +"No; I shall leave it," replied the gardener, obstinately; "and then--we +will see." + +But the mistress put his money back in his pocket, without leaving him +time to reject it. And then he resigned himself with a shake of the +head; and then, wafting a kiss to the mistress and to the large girl, he +quickly took his daughter's arm again, and hurried with her out of the +door, saying:-- + +"Come, come, my daughter, my poor dumb child, my treasure!" + +And the girl exclaimed, in her harsh voice:-- + +"Oh, how beau-ti-ful the sun is!" + + + + +JUNE. + + +GARIBALDI. + + June 3d. + + To-morrow is the National Festival Day. + + TO-DAY is a day of national mourning. Garibaldi died last night. Do + you know who he is? He is the man who liberated ten millions of + Italians from the tyranny of the Bourbons. He died at the age of + seventy-five. He was born at Nice, the son of a ship captain. At + eight years of age, he saved a woman's life; at thirteen, he + dragged into safety a boat-load of his companions who were + shipwrecked; at twenty-seven, he rescued from the water at + Marseilles a drowning youth; at forty-one, he saved a ship from + burning on the ocean. He fought for ten years in America for the + liberty of a strange people; he fought in three wars against the + Austrians, for the liberation of Lombardy and Trentino; he defended + Rome from the French in 1849; he delivered Naples and Palermo in + 1860; he fought again for Rome in 1867; he combated with the + Germans in defence of France in 1870. He was possessed of the flame + of heroism and the genius of war. He was engaged in forty battles, + and won thirty-seven of them. + + When he was not fighting, he was laboring for his living, or he + shut himself up in a solitary island, and tilled the soil. He was + teacher, sailor, workman, trader, soldier, general, dictator. He + was simple, great, and good. He hated all oppressors, he loved all + peoples, he protected all the weak; he had no other aspiration than + good, he refused honors, he scorned death, he adored Italy. When he + uttered his war-cry, legions of valorous men hastened to him from + all quarters; gentlemen left their palaces, workmen their ships, + youths their schools, to go and fight in the sunshine of his glory. + In time of war he wore a red shirt. He was strong, blond, and + handsome. On the field of battle he was a thunder-bolt, in his + affections he was a child, in affliction a saint. Thousands of + Italians have died for their country, happy, if, when dying, they + saw him pass victorious in the distance; thousands would have + allowed themselves to be killed for him; millions have blessed and + will bless him. + + He is dead. The whole world mourns him. You do not understand him + now. But you will read of his deeds, you will constantly hear him + spoken of in the course of your life; and gradually, as you grow + up, his image will grow before you; when you become a man, you will + behold him as a giant; and when you are no longer in the world, + when your sons' sons and those who shall be born from them are no + longer among the living, the generations will still behold on high + his luminous head as a redeemer of the peoples, crowned by the + names of his victories as with a circlet of stars; and the brow and + the soul of every Italian will beam when he utters his name. + + THY FATHER. + + +THE ARMY. + + Sunday, 11th. + + The National Festival Day. Postponed for a week on + account of the death of Garibaldi. + +We have been to the Piazza Castello, to see the review of soldiers, who +defiled before the commandant of the army corps, between two vast lines +of people. As they marched past to the sound of flourishes from trumpets +and bands, my father pointed out to me the Corps and the glories of the +banners. First, the pupils of the Academy, those who will become +officers in the Engineers and the Artillery, about three hundred in +number, dressed in black, passed with the bold and easy elegance of +students and soldiers. After them defiled the infantry, the brigade of +Aosta, which fought at Goito and at San Martino, and the Bergamo +brigade, which fought at Castelfidardo, four regiments of them, company +after company, thousands of red aiguillettes, which seemed like so many +double and very long garlands of blood-colored flowers, extended and +agitated from the two ends, and borne athwart the crowd. After the +infantry, the soldiers of the Mining Corps advanced,--the workingmen of +war, with their plumes of black horse-tails, and their crimson bands; +and while these were passing, we beheld advancing behind them hundreds +of long, straight plumes, which rose above the heads of the spectators; +they were the mountaineers, the defenders of the portals of Italy, all +tall, rosy, and stalwart, with hats of Calabrian fashion, and revers of +a beautiful, bright green, the color of the grass on their native +mountains. The mountaineers were still marching past, when a quiver ran +through the crowd, and the _bersaglieri_, the old twelfth battalion, the +first who entered Rome through the breach at the Porta Pia, bronzed, +alert, brisk, with fluttering plumes, passed like a wave in a sea of +black, making the piazza ring with the shrill blasts of their trumpets, +which seemed shouts of joy. But their trumpeting was drowned by a broken +and hollow rumble, which announced the field artillery; and then the +latter passed in triumph, seated on their lofty caissons, drawn by three +hundred pairs of fiery horses,--those fine soldiers with yellow lacings, +and their long cannons of brass and steel gleaming on the light +carriages, as they jolted and resounded, and made the earth tremble. + +And then came the mountain artillery, slowly, gravely, beautiful in its +laborious and rude semblance, with its large soldiers, with its +powerful mules--that mountain artillery which carries dismay and death +wherever man can set his foot. And last of all, the fine regiment of the +Genoese cavalry, which had wheeled down like a whirlwind on ten fields +of battle, from Santa Lucia to Villafranca, passed at a gallop, with +their helmets glittering in the sun, their lances erect, their pennons +floating in the air, sparkling with gold and silver, filling the air +with jingling and neighing. + +"How beautiful it is!" I exclaimed. My father almost reproved me for +these words, and said to me:-- + +"You are not to regard the army as a fine spectacle. All these young +men, so full of strength and hope, may be called upon any day to defend +our country, and fall in a few hours, crushed to fragments by bullets +and grape-shot. Every time that you hear the cry, at a feast, 'Hurrah +for the army! hurrah for Italy!' picture to yourself, behind the +regiments which are passing, a plain covered with corpses, and inundated +with blood, and then the greeting to the army will proceed from the very +depths of your heart, and the image of Italy will appear to you more +severe and grand." + + +ITALY. + + Tuesday, 14th. + + Salute your country thus, on days of festival: "Italy, my country, + dear and noble land, where my father and my mother were born, and + where they will be buried, where I hope to live and die, where my + children will grow up and die; beautiful Italy, great and glorious + for many centuries, united and free for a few years; thou who didst + disseminate so great a light of intellect divine over the world, + and for whom so many valiant men have died on the battle-field, + and so many heroes on the gallows; august mother of three hundred + cities, and thirty millions of sons; I, a child, who do not + understand thee as yet, and who do not know thee in thy entirety, I + venerate and love thee with all my soul, and I am proud of having + been born of thee, and of calling myself thy son. I love thy + splendid seas and thy sublime mountains; I love thy solemn + monuments and thy immortal memories; I love thy glory and thy + beauty; I love and venerate the whole of thee as that beloved + portion of thee where I, for the first time, beheld the light and + heard thy name. I love the whole of thee, with a single affection + and with equal gratitude,--Turin the valiant, Genoa the superb, + Bologna the learned, Venice the enchanting, Milan the mighty; I + love you with the uniform reverence of a son, gentle Florence and + terrible Palermo, immense and beautiful Naples, marvellous and + eternal Rome. I love thee, my sacred country! And I swear that I + will love all thy sons like brothers; that I will always honor in + my heart thy great men, living and dead; that I will be an + industrious and honest citizen, constantly intent on ennobling + myself, in order to render myself worthy of thee, to assist with my + small powers in causing misery, ignorance, injustice, crime, to + disappear one day from thy face, so that thou mayest live and + expand tranquilly in the majesty of thy right and of thy strength. + I swear that I will serve thee, as it may be granted to me, with my + mind, with my arm, with my heart, humbly, ardently; and that, if + the day should dawn in which I should be called on to give my blood + for thee and my life, I will give my blood, and I will die, crying + thy holy name to heaven, and wafting my last kiss to thy blessed + banner." + + THY FATHER. + + + [Illustration: "WE DESCENDED, RUNNING AND SINGING."--Page 30.] + + +THIRTY-TWO DEGREES. + + Friday, 16th. + +During the five days which have passed since the National Festival, the +heat has increased by three degrees. We are in full summer now, and +begin to feel weary; all have lost their fine rosy color of springtime; +necks and legs are growing thin, heads droop and eyes close. Poor Nelli, +who suffers much from the heat, has turned the color of wax in the face; +he sometimes falls into a heavy sleep, with his head on his copy-book; +but Garrone is always watchful, and places an open book upright in front +of him, so that the master may not see him. Crossi rests his red head +against the bench in a certain way, so that it looks as though it had +been detached from his body and placed there separately. Nobis complains +that there are too many of us, and that we corrupt the air. Ah, what an +effort it costs now to study! I gaze through the windows at those +beautiful trees which cast so deep a shade, where I should be so glad to +run, and sadness and wrath overwhelm me at being obliged to go and shut +myself up among the benches. But then I take courage at the sight of my +kind mother, who is always watching me, scrutinizing me, when I return +from school, to see whether I am not pale; and at every page of my work +she says to me:-- + +"Do you still feel well?" and every morning at six, when she wakes me +for my lesson, "Courage! there are only so many days more: then you will +be free, and will get rested,--you will go to the shade of country +lanes." + +Yes, she is perfectly right to remind me of the boys who are working in +the fields in the full heat of the sun, or among the white sands of the +river, which blind and scorch them, and of those in the glass-factories, +who stand all day long motionless, with head bent over a flame of gas; +and all of them rise earlier than we do, and have no vacations. Courage, +then! And even in this respect, Derossi is at the head of all, for he +suffers neither from heat nor drowsiness; he is always wide awake, and +cheery, with his golden curls, as he was in the winter, and he studies +without effort, and keeps all about him alert, as though he freshened +the air with his voice. + +And there are two others, also, who are always awake and attentive: +stubborn Stardi, who pricks his face, to prevent himself from going to +sleep; and the more weary and heated he is, the more he sets his teeth, +and he opens his eyes so wide that it seems as though he wanted to eat +the teacher; and that barterer of a Garoffi, who is wholly absorbed in +manufacturing fans out of red paper, decorated with little figures from +match-boxes, which he sells at two centesimi apiece. + +But the bravest of all is Coretti; poor Coretti, who gets up at five +o'clock, to help his father carry wood! At eleven, in school, he can no +longer keep his eyes open, and his head droops on his breast. And +nevertheless, he shakes himself, punches himself on the back of the +neck, asks permission to go out and wash his face, and makes his +neighbors shake and pinch him. But this morning he could not resist, and +he fell into a leaden sleep. The master called him loudly; "Coretti!" He +did not hear. The master, irritated, repeated, "Coretti!" Then the son +of the charcoal-man, who lives next to him at home, rose and said:-- + +"He worked from five until seven carrying faggots." The teacher allowed +him to sleep on, and continued with the lesson for half an hour. Then he +went to Coretti's seat, and wakened him very, very gently, by blowing in +his face. On beholding the master in front of him, he started back in +alarm. But the master took his head in his hands, and said, as he kissed +him on the hair:-- + +"I am not reproving you, my son. Your sleep is not at all that of +laziness; it is the sleep of fatigue." + + +MY FATHER. + + Saturday, 17th. + + Surely, neither your comrade Coretti nor Garrone would ever have + answered their fathers as you answered yours this afternoon. + Enrico! How is it possible? You must promise me solemnly that this + shall never happen again so long as I live. Every time that an + impertinent reply flies to your lips at a reproof from your father, + think of that day which will infallibly come when he will call you + to his bedside to tell you, "Enrico, I am about to leave you." Oh, + my son, when you hear his voice for the last time, and for a long + while afterwards, when you weep alone in his deserted room, in the + midst of those books which he will never open again, then, on + recalling that you have at times been wanting in respect to him, + you, too, will ask yourself, "How is it possible?" Then you will + understand that he has always been your best friend, that when he + was constrained to punish you, it caused him more suffering than it + did you, and that he never made you weep except for the sake of + doing you good; and then you will repent, and you will kiss with + tears that desk at which he worked so much, at which he wore out + his life for his children. You do not understand now; he hides from + you all of himself except his kindness and his love. You do not + know that he is sometimes so broken down with toil that he thinks + he has only a few more days to live, and that at such moments he + talks only of you; he has in his heart no other trouble than that + of leaving you poor and without protection. + + And how often, when meditating on this, does he enter your chamber + while you are asleep, and stand there, lamp in hand, gazing at you; + and then he makes an effort, and weary and sad as he is, he returns + to his labor; and neither do you know that he often seeks you and + remains with you because he has a bitterness in his heart, sorrows + which attack all men in the world, and he seeks you as a friend, to + obtain consolation himself and forgetfulness, and he feels the need + of taking refuge in your affection, to recover his serenity and his + courage: think, then, what must be his sorrow, when instead of + finding in you affection, he finds coldness and disrespect! Never + again stain yourself with this horrible ingratitude! Reflect, that + were you as good as a saint, you could never repay him sufficiently + for what he has done and for what he is constantly doing for you. + And reflect, also, we cannot count on life; a misfortune might + remove your father while you are still a boy,--in two years, in + three months, to-morrow. + + Ah, my poor Enrico, when you see all about you changing, how empty, + how desolate the house will appear, with your poor mother clothed + in black! Go, my son, go to your father; he is in his room at work; + go on tiptoe, so that he may not hear you enter; go and lay your + forehead on his knees, and beseech him to pardon and to bless you. + + THY MOTHER. + + +IN THE COUNTRY. + + Monday, 19th. + +My good father forgave me, even on this occasion, and allowed me to go +on an expedition to the country, which had been arranged on Wednesday, +with the father of Coretti, the wood-peddler. + +We were all in need of a mouthful of hill air. It was a festival day. +We met yesterday at two o'clock in the place of the Statuto, Derossi, +Garrone, Garoffi, Precossi, Coretti, father and son, and I, with our +provisions of fruit, sausages, and hard-boiled eggs; we had also leather +bottles and tin cups. Garrone carried a gourd filled with white wine; +Coretti, his father's soldier-canteen, full of red wine; and little +Precossi, in the blacksmith's blouse, held under his arm a +two-kilogramme loaf. + +We went in the omnibus as far as Gran Madre di Dio, and then off, as +briskly as possible, to the hills. How green, how shady, how fresh it +was! We rolled over and over in the grass, we dipped our faces in the +rivulets, we leaped the hedges. The elder Coretti followed us at a +distance, with his jacket thrown over his shoulders, smoking his clay +pipe, and from time to time threatening us with his hand, to prevent our +tearing holes in our trousers. + +Precossi whistled; I had never heard him whistle before. The younger +Coretti did the same, as he went along. That little fellow knows +how to make everything with his jack-knife a finger's length +long,--mill-wheels, forks, squirts; and he insisted on carrying the +other boys' things, and he was loaded down until he was dripping with +perspiration, but he was still as nimble as a goat. Derossi halted every +moment to tell us the names of the plants and insects. I don't +understand how he manages to know so many things. And Garrone nibbled at +his bread in silence; but he no longer attacks it with the cheery bites +of old, poor Garrone! now that he has lost his mother. But he is always +as good as bread himself. When one of us ran back to obtain the momentum +for leaping a ditch, he ran to the other side, and held out his hands to +us; and as Precossi was afraid of cows, having been tossed by one when +a child, Garrone placed himself in front of him every time that we +passed any. We mounted up to Santa Margherita, and then went down the +decline by leaps, rolls, and slides. Precossi tumbled into a thorn-bush, +and tore a hole in his blouse, and stood there overwhelmed with shame, +with the strip dangling; but Garoffi, who always has pins in his jacket, +fixed it so that it was not perceptible, while the other kept saying, +"Excuse me, excuse me," and then he set out to run once more. + +Garoffi did not waste his time on the way; he picked salad herbs and +snails, and put every stone that glistened in the least into his pocket, +supposing that there was gold and silver in it. And on we went, running, +rolling, and climbing through the shade and in the sun, up and down, +through all the lanes and cross-roads, until we arrived dishevelled and +breathless at the crest of a hill, where we seated ourselves to take our +lunch on the grass. + +We could see an immense plain, and all the blue Alps with their white +summits. We were dying of hunger; the bread seemed to be melting. The +elder Coretti handed us our portions of sausage on gourd leaves. And +then we all began to talk at once about the teachers, the comrades who +had not been able to come, and the examinations. Precossi was rather +ashamed to eat, and Garrone thrust the best bits of his share into his +mouth by force. Coretti was seated next his father, with his legs +crossed; they seem more like two brothers than father and son, when seen +thus together, both rosy and smiling, with those white teeth of theirs. +The father drank with zest, emptying the bottles and the cups which we +left half finished, and said:-- + +"Wine hurts you boys who are studying; it is the wood-sellers who need +it." Then he grasped his son by the nose, and shook him, saying to us, +"Boys, you must love this fellow, for he is a flower of a man of honor; +I tell you so myself!" And then we all laughed, except Garrone. And he +went on, as he drank, "It's a shame, eh! now you are all good friends +together, and in a few years, who knows, Enrico and Derossi will be +lawyers or professors or I don't know what, and the other four of you +will be in shops or at a trade, and the deuce knows where, and +then--good night comrades!" + +"Nonsense!" rejoined Derossi; "for me, Garrone will always be Garrone, +Precossi will always be Precossi, and the same with all the others, were +I to become the emperor of Russia: where they are, there I shall go +also." + +"Bless you!" exclaimed the elder Coretti, raising his flask; "that's the +way to talk, by Heavens! Touch your glass here! Hurrah for brave +comrades, and hurrah for school, which makes one family of you, of those +who have and those who have not!" + +We all clinked his flask with the skins and the cups, and drank for the +last time. + +"Hurrah for the fourth of the 49th!" he cried, as he rose to his feet, +and swallowed the last drop; "and if you have to do with squadrons too, +see that you stand firm, like us old ones, my lads!" + +It was already late. We descended, running and singing, and walking long +distances all arm in arm, and we arrived at the Po as twilight fell, and +thousands of fireflies were flitting about. And we only parted in the +Piazza dello Statuto after having agreed to meet there on the following +Sunday, and go to the Vittorio Emanuele to see the distribution of +prizes to the graduates of the evening schools. + +What a beautiful day! How happy I should have been on my return home, +had I not encountered my poor schoolmistress! I met her coming down the +staircase of our house, almost in the dark, and, as soon as she +recognized me, she took both my hands, and whispered in my ear, "Good +by, Enrico; remember me!" I perceived that she was weeping. I went up +and told my mother about it. + +"I have just met my schoolmistress."--"She was just going to bed," +replied my mother, whose eyes were red. And then she added very sadly, +gazing intently at me, "Your poor teacher--is very ill." + + +THE DISTRIBUTION OF PRIZES TO THE WORKINGMEN. + + Sunday, 25th. + +As we had agreed, we all went together to the Theatre Vittorio Emanuele, +to view the distribution of prizes to the workingmen. The theatre was +adorned as on the 14th of March, and thronged, but almost wholly with +the families of workmen; and the pit was occupied with the male and +female pupils of the school of choral singing. These sang a hymn to the +soldiers who had died in the Crimea; which was so beautiful that, when +it was finished, all rose and clapped and shouted, so that the song had +to be repeated from the beginning. And then the prize-winners began +immediately to march past the mayor, the prefect, and many others, who +presented them with books, savings-bank books, diplomas, and medals. In +one corner of the pit I espied the little mason, sitting beside his +mother; and in another place there was the head-master; and behind him, +the red head of my master of the second grade. + +The first to defile were the pupils of the evening drawing classes--the +goldsmiths, engravers, lithographers, and also the carpenters and +masons; then those of the commercial school; then those of the Musical +Lyceum, among them several girls, workingwomen, all dressed in festal +attire, who were saluted with great applause, and who laughed. Last came +the pupils of the elementary evening schools, and then it began to be a +beautiful sight. They were of all ages, of all trades, and dressed in +all sorts of ways,--men with gray hair, factory boys, artisans with big +black beards. The little ones were at their ease; the men, a little +embarrassed. The people clapped the oldest and the youngest, but none of +the spectators laughed, as they did at our festival: all faces were +attentive and serious. + +Many of the prize-winners had wives and children in the pit, and there +were little children who, when they saw their father pass across the +stage, called him by name at the tops of their voices, and signalled to +him with their hands, laughing violently. Peasants passed, and porters; +they were from the Buoncompagni School. From the Cittadella School there +was a bootblack whom my father knew, and the prefect gave him a diploma. +After him I saw approaching a man as big as a giant, whom I fancied that +I had seen several times before. It was the father of the little mason, +who had won the second prize. I remembered when I had seen him in the +garret, at the bedside of his sick son, and I immediately sought out his +son in the pit. Poor little mason! he was staring at his father with +beaming eyes, and, in order to conceal his emotion, he made his hare's +face. At that moment I heard a burst of applause, and I glanced at the +stage: a little chimney-sweep stood there, with a clean face, but in his +working-clothes, and the mayor was holding him by the hand and talking +to him. + +After the chimney-sweep came a cook; then came one of the city sweepers, +from the Raineri School, to get a prize. I felt I know not what in my +heart,--something like a great affection and a great respect, at the +thought of how much those prizes had cost all those workingmen, fathers +of families, full of care; how much toil added to their labors, how many +hours snatched from their sleep, of which they stand in such great need, +and what efforts of intelligences not habituated to study, and of huge +hands rendered clumsy with work! + +A factory boy passed, and it was evident that his father had lent him +his jacket for the occasion, for his sleeves hung down so that he was +forced to turn them back on the stage, in order to receive his prize: +and many laughed; but the laugh was speedily stifled by the applause. +Next came an old man with a bald head and a white beard. Several +artillery soldiers passed, from among those who attended evening school +in our schoolhouse; then came custom-house guards and policemen, from +among those who guard our schools. + +At the conclusion, the pupils of the evening schools again sang the hymn +to the dead in the Crimea, but this time with so much dash, with a +strength of affection which came so directly from the heart, that the +audience hardly applauded at all, and all retired in deep emotion, +slowly and noiselessly. + +In a few moments the whole street was thronged. In front of the +entrance to the theatre was the chimney-sweep, with his prize book bound +in red, and all around were gentlemen talking to him. Many exchanged +salutations from the opposite side of the street,--workmen, boys, +policemen, teachers. My master of the second grade came out in the midst +of the crowd, between two artillery men. And there were workmen's wives +with babies in their arms, who held in their tiny hands their father's +diploma, and exhibited it to the crowd in their pride. + + +MY DEAD SCHOOLMISTRESS. + + Tuesday, 27th. + +While we were at the Theatre Vittorio Emanuele, my poor schoolmistress +died. She died at two o'clock, a week after she had come to see my +mother. The head-master came to the school yesterday morning to announce +it to us; and he said:-- + +"Those of you who were her pupils know how good she was, how she loved +her boys: she was a mother to them. Now, she is no more. For a long time +a terrible malady has been sapping her life. If she had not been obliged +to work to earn her bread, she could have taken care of herself, and +perhaps recovered. At all events, she could have prolonged her life for +several months, if she had procured a leave of absence. But she wished +to remain among her boys to the very last day. On the evening of +Saturday, the seventeenth, she took leave of them, with the certainty +that she should never see them again. She gave them good advice, kissed +them all, and went away sobbing. No one will ever behold her again. +Remember her, my boys!" + +Little Precossi, who had been one of her pupils in the upper primary, +dropped his head on his desk and began to cry. + +Yesterday afternoon, after school, we all went together to the house of +the dead woman, to accompany her to church. There was a hearse in the +street, with two horses, and many people were waiting, and conversing in +a low voice. There was the head-master, all the masters and mistresses +from our school, and from the other schoolhouses where she had taught in +bygone years. There were nearly all the little children in her classes, +led by the hand by their mothers, who carried tapers; and there were a +very great many from the other classes, and fifty scholars from the +Baretti School, some with wreaths in their hands, some with bunches of +roses. A great many bouquets of flowers had already been placed on the +hearse, upon which was fastened a large wreath of acacia, with an +inscription in black letters: _The old pupils of the fourth grade to +their mistress_. And under the large wreath a little one was suspended, +which the babies had brought. Among the crowd were visible many +servant-women, who had been sent by their mistresses with candles; and +there were also two serving-men in livery, with lighted torches; and a +wealthy gentleman, the father of one of the mistress's scholars, had +sent his carriage, lined with blue satin. All were crowded together near +the door. Several girls were wiping away their tears. + +We waited for a while in silence. At length the casket was brought out. +Some of the little ones began to cry loudly when they saw the coffin +slid into the hearse, and one began to shriek, as though he had only +then comprehended that his mistress was dead, and he was seized with +such a convulsive fit of sobbing, that they were obliged to carry him +away. + +The procession got slowly into line and set out. First came the +daughters of the Ritiro della Concezione, dressed in green; then the +daughters of Maria, all in white, with a blue ribbon; then the priests; +and behind the hearse, the masters and mistresses, the tiny scholars of +the upper primary, and all the others; and, at the end of all, the +crowd. People came to the windows and to the doors, and on seeing all +those boys, and the wreath, they said, "It is a schoolmistress." Even +some of the ladies who accompanied the smallest children wept. + +When the church was reached, the casket was removed from the hearse, and +carried to the middle of the nave, in front of the great altar: the +mistresses laid their wreaths on it, the children covered it with +flowers, and the people all about, with lighted candles in their hands, +began to chant the prayers in the vast and gloomy church. Then, all of a +sudden, when the priest had said the last _amen_, the candles were +extinguished, and all went away in haste, and the mistress was left +alone. Poor mistress, who was so kind to me, who had so much patience, +who had toiled for so many years! She has left her little books to her +scholars, and everything which she possessed,--to one an inkstand, to +another a little picture; and two days before her death, she said to the +head-master that he was not to allow the smallest of them to go to her +funeral, because she did not wish them to cry. + +She has done good, she has suffered, she is dead! Poor mistress, left +alone in that dark church! Farewell! Farewell forever, my kind friend, +sad and sweet memory of my infancy! + + +THANKS. + + Wednesday, 28th. + +My poor schoolmistress wanted to finish her year of school: she departed +only three days before the end of the lessons. Day after to-morrow we go +once more to the schoolroom to hear the reading of the monthly story, +_Shipwreck_, and then--it is over. On Saturday, the first of July, the +examinations begin. And then another year, the fourth, is past! And if +my mistress had not died, it would have passed well. + +I thought over all that I had known on the preceding October, and it +seems to me that I know a good deal more: I have so many new things in +my mind; I can say and write what I think better than I could then; I +can also do the sums of many grown-up men who know nothing about it, and +help them in their affairs; and I understand much more: I understand +nearly everything that I read. I am satisfied. But how many people have +urged me on and helped me to learn, one in one way, and another in +another, at home, at school, in the street,--everywhere where I have +been and where I have seen anything! And now, I thank you all. I thank +you first, my good teacher, for having been so indulgent and +affectionate with me; for you every new acquisition of mine was a labor, +for which I now rejoice and of which I am proud. I thank you, Derossi, +my admirable companion, for your prompt and kind explanations, for you +have made me understand many of the most difficult things, and overcome +stumbling-blocks at examinations; and you, too, Stardi, you brave and +strong boy, who have showed me how a will of iron succeeds in +everything: and you, kind, generous Garrone, who make all those who +know you kind and generous too; and you too, Precossi and Coretti, who +have given me an example of courage in suffering, and of serenity in +toil, I render thanks to you: I render thanks to all the rest. But above +all, I thank thee, my father, thee, my first teacher, my first friend, +who hast given me so many wise counsels, and hast taught me so many +things, whilst thou wert working for me, always concealing thy sadness +from me, and seeking in all ways to render study easy, and life +beautiful to me; and thee, sweet mother, my beloved and blessed guardian +angel, who hast tasted all my joys, and suffered all my bitternesses, +who hast studied, worked, and wept with me, with one hand caressing my +brow, and with the other pointing me to heaven. I kneel before you, as +when I was a little child; I thank you for all the tenderness which you +have instilled into my mind through twelve years of sacrifices and of +love. + + +SHIPWRECK. + +(_Last Monthly Story._) + +One morning in the month of December, several years ago, there sailed +from the port of Liverpool a huge steamer, which had on board two +hundred persons, including a crew of sixty. The captain and nearly all +the sailors were English. Among the passengers there were several +Italians,--three gentlemen, a priest, and a company of musicians. The +steamer was bound for the island of Malta. The weather was threatening. + +Among the third-class passengers forward, was an Italian lad of a dozen +years, small for his age, but robust; a bold, handsome, austere face, +of Sicilian type. He was alone near the fore-mast, seated on a coil of +cordage, beside a well-worn valise, which contained his effects, and +upon which he kept a hand. His face was brown, and his black and wavy +hair descended to his shoulders. He was meanly clad, and had a tattered +mantle thrown over his shoulders, and an old leather pouch on a +cross-belt. He gazed thoughtfully about him at the passengers, the ship, +the sailors who were running past, and at the restless sea. He had the +appearance of a boy who has recently issued from a great family +sorrow,--the face of a child, the expression of a man. + +A little after their departure, one of the steamer's crew, an Italian +with gray hair, made his appearance on the bow, holding by the hand a +little girl; and coming to a halt in front of the little Sicilian, he +said to him:-- + +"Here's a travelling companion for you, Mario." Then he went away. + +The girl seated herself on the pile of cordage beside the boy. + +They surveyed each other. + +"Where are you going?" asked the Sicilian. + +The girl replied: "To Malta on the way of Naples." Then she added: "I am +going to see my father and mother, who are expecting me. My name is +Giulietta Faggiani." + +The boy said nothing. + +After the lapse of a few minutes, he drew some bread from his pouch, and +some dried fruit; the girl had some biscuits: they began to eat. + +"Look sharp there!" shouted the Italian sailor, as he passed rapidly; "a +lively time is at hand!" + +The wind continued to increase, the steamer pitched heavily; but the two +children, who did not suffer from seasickness, paid no heed to it. The +little girl smiled. She was about the same age as her companion, but was +considerably taller, brown of complexion, slender, somewhat sickly, and +dressed more than modestly. Her hair was short and curling, she wore a +red kerchief over her head, and two hoops of silver in her ears. + +As they ate, they talked about themselves and their affairs. The boy had +no longer either father or mother. The father, an artisan, had died a +few days previously in Liverpool, leaving him alone; and the Italian +consul had sent him back to his country, to Palermo, where he had still +some distant relatives left. The little girl had been taken to London, +the year before, by a widowed aunt, who was very fond of her, and to +whom her parents--poor people--had given her for a time, trusting in a +promise of an inheritance; but the aunt had died a few months later, run +over by an omnibus, without leaving a centesimo; and then she too had +had recourse to the consul, who had shipped her to Italy. Both had been +recommended to the care of the Italian sailor.--"So," concluded the +little maid, "my father and mother thought that I would return rich, and +instead I am returning poor. But they will love me all the same. And so +will my brothers. I have four, all small. I am the oldest at home. I +dress them. They will be greatly delighted to see me. They will come in +on tiptoe--The sea is ugly!" + +Then she asked the boy: "And are you going to stay with your relatives?" + +"Yes--if they want me." + +"Do not they love you?" + +"I don't know." + +"I shall be thirteen at Christmas," said the girl. + +Then they began to talk about the sea, and the people on board around +them. They remained near each other all day, exchanging a few words now +and then. The passengers thought them brother and sister. The girl +knitted at a stocking, the boy meditated, the sea continued to grow +rougher. At night, as they parted to go to bed, the girl said to Mario, +"Sleep well." + +"No one will sleep well, my poor children!" exclaimed the Italian sailor +as he ran past, in answer to a call from the captain. The boy was on the +point of replying with a "good night" to his little friend, when an +unexpected dash of water dealt him a violent blow, and flung him against +a seat. + +"My dear, you are bleeding!" cried the girl, flinging herself upon him. +The passengers who were making their escape below, paid no heed to them. +The child knelt down beside Mario, who had been stunned by the blow, +wiped the blood from his brow, and pulling the red kerchief from her +hair, she bound it about his head, then pressed his head to her breast +in order to knot the ends, and thus received a spot of blood on her +yellow bodice just above the girdle. Mario shook himself and rose: + +"Are you better?" asked the girl. + +"I no longer feel it," he replied. + +"Sleep well," said Giulietta. + +"Good night," responded Mario. And they descended two neighboring sets +of steps to their dormitories. + +The sailor's prediction proved correct. Before they could get to sleep, +a frightful tempest had broken loose. It was like the sudden onslaught +of furious great horses, which in the course of a few minutes split one +mast, and carried away three boats which were suspended to the falls, +and four cows on the bow, like leaves. On board the steamer there arose +a confusion, a terror, an uproar, a tempest of shrieks, wails, and +prayers, sufficient to make the hair stand on end. The tempest continued +to increase in fury all night. At daybreak it was still increasing. The +formidable waves dashing the craft transversely, broke over the deck, +and smashed, split, and hurled everything into the sea. The platform +which screened the engine was destroyed, and the water dashed in with a +terrible roar; the fires were extinguished; the engineers fled; huge and +impetuous streams forced their way everywhere. A voice of thunder +shouted: + +"To the pumps!" It was the captain's voice. The sailors rushed to the +pumps. But a sudden burst of the sea, striking the vessel on the stern, +demolished bulwarks and hatchways, and sent a flood within. + +All the passengers, more dead than alive, had taken refuge in the grand +saloon. At last the captain made his appearance. + +"Captain! Captain!" they all shrieked in concert. "What is taking place? +Where are we? Is there any hope! Save us!" + +The captain waited until they were silent, then said coolly; "Let us be +resigned." + +One woman uttered a cry of "Mercy!" No one else could give vent to a +sound. Terror had frozen them all. A long time passed thus, in a silence +like that of the grave. All gazed at each other with blanched faces. The +sea continued to rage and roar. The vessel pitched heavily. At one +moment the captain attempted to launch one life-boat; five sailors +entered it; the boat sank; the waves turned it over, and two of the +sailors were drowned, among them the Italian: the others contrived with +difficulty to catch hold of the ropes and draw themselves up again. + +After this, the sailors themselves lost all courage. Two hours later, +the vessel was sunk in the water to the height of the port-holes. + +A terrible spectacle was presented meanwhile on the deck. Mothers +pressed their children to their breasts in despair; friends exchanged +embraces and bade each other farewell; some went down into the cabins +that they might die without seeing the sea. One passenger shot himself +in the head with a pistol, and fell headlong down the stairs to the +cabin, where he expired. Many clung frantically to each other; women +writhed in horrible convulsions. There was audible a chorus of sobs, of +infantile laments, of strange and piercing voices; and here and there +persons were visible motionless as statues, in stupor, with eyes dilated +and sightless,--faces of corpses and madmen. The two children, Giulietta +and Mario, clung to a mast and gazed at the sea with staring eyes, as +though senseless. + +The sea had subsided a little; but the vessel continued to sink slowly. +Only a few minutes remained to them. + +"Launch the long-boat!" shouted the captain. + +A boat, the last that remained, was thrown into the water, and fourteen +sailors and three passengers descended into it. + +The captain remained on board. + +"Come down with us!" they shouted to him from below. + +"I must die at my post," replied the captain. + +"We shall meet a vessel," the sailors cried to him; "we shall be saved! +Come down! you are lost!" + +"I shall remain." + +"There is room for one more!" shouted the sailors, turning to the other +passengers. "A woman!" + +A woman advanced, aided by the captain; but on seeing the distance at +which the boat lay, she did not feel sufficient courage to leap down, +and fell back upon the deck. The other women had nearly all fainted, and +were as dead. + +"A boy!" shouted the sailors. + +At that shout, the Sicilian lad and his companion, who had remained up +to that moment petrified as by a supernatural stupor, were suddenly +aroused again by a violent instinct to save their lives. They detached +themselves simultaneously from the mast, and rushed to the side of the +vessel, shrieking in concert: "Take me!" and endeavoring in turn, to +drive the other back, like furious beasts. + +"The smallest!" shouted the sailors. "The boat is overloaded! The +smallest!" + +On hearing these words, the girl dropped her arms, as though struck by +lightning, and stood motionless, staring at Mario with lustreless eyes. + +Mario looked at her for a moment,--saw the spot of blood on her +bodice,--remembered--The gleam of a divine thought flashed across his +face. + +"The smallest!" shouted the sailors in chorus, with imperious +impatience. "We are going!" + +And then Mario, with a voice which no longer seemed his own, cried: "She +is the lighter! It is for you, Giulietta! You have a father and mother! +I am alone! I give you my place! Go down!" + +"Throw her into the sea!" shouted the sailors. + +Mario seized Giulietta by the body, and threw her into the sea. + +The girl uttered a cry and made a splash; a sailor seized her by the +arm, and dragged her into the boat. + +The boy remained at the vessel's side, with his head held high, his hair +streaming in the wind,--motionless, tranquil, sublime. + +The boat moved off just in time to escape the whirlpool which the vessel +produced as it sank, and which threatened to overturn it. + +Then the girl, who had remained senseless until that moment, raised her +eyes to the boy, and burst into a storm of tears. + +"Good by, Mario!" she cried, amid her sobs, with her arms outstretched +towards him. "Good by! Good by! Good by!" + +"Good by!" replied the boy, raising his hand on high. + +The boat went swiftly away across the troubled sea, beneath the dark +sky. No one on board the vessel shouted any longer. The water was +already lapping the edge of the deck. + +Suddenly the boy fell on his knees, with his hands folded and his eyes +raised to heaven. + +The girl covered her face. + +When she raised her head again, she cast a glance over the sea: the +vessel was no longer there. + + + + +JULY. + + +THE LAST PAGE FROM MY MOTHER. + + Saturday, 1st. + + SO the year has come to an end, Enrico, and it is well that you + should be left on the last day with the image of the sublime child, + who gave his life for his friend. You are now about to part from + your teachers and companions, and I must impart to you some sad + news. The separation will last not three months, but forever. Your + father, for reasons connected with his profession, is obliged to + leave Turin, and we are all to go with him. + + We shall go next autumn. You will have to enter a new school. You + are sorry for this, are you not? For I am sure that you love your + old school, where twice a day, for the space of four years, you + have experienced the pleasure of working, where for so long a time, + you have seen, at stated hours, the same boys, the same teachers, + the same parents, and your own father or mother awaiting you with a + smile; your old school, where your mind first unclosed, where you + have found so many kind companions, where every word that you have + heard has had your good for its object, and where you have not + suffered a single displeasure which has not been useful to you! + Then bear this affection with you, and bid these boys a hearty + farewell. Some of them will experience misfortunes, they will soon + lose their fathers and mothers; others will die young; others, + perhaps, will nobly shed their blood in battle; many will become + brave and honest workmen, the fathers of honest and industrious + workmen like themselves; and who knows whether there may not also + be among them one who will render great services to his country, + and make his name glorious. Then part from them with affection; + leave a portion of your soul here, in this great family into which + you entered as a baby, and from which you emerge a young lad, and + which your father and mother loved so dearly, because you were so + much beloved by it. + + School is a mother, my Enrico. It took you from my arms when you + could hardly speak, and now it returns you to me, strong, good, + studious; blessings on it, and may you never forget it more, my + son. Oh, it is impossible that you should forget it! You will + become a man, you will make the tour of the world, you will see + immense cities and wonderful monuments, and you will remember many + among them; but that modest white edifice, with those closed + shutters and that little garden, where the first flower of your + intelligence budded, you will perceive until the last day of your + life, as I shall always behold the house in which I heard your + voice for the first time. + + THY MOTHER. + + +THE EXAMINATIONS. + + Tuesday, 4th. + +Here are the examinations at last! Nothing else is to be heard under +discussion, in the streets in the vicinity of the school, from boys, +fathers, mothers, and even tutors; examinations, points, themes, +averages, dismissals, promotions: all utter the same words. Yesterday +morning there was composition; this morning there is arithmetic. It was +touching to see all the parents, as they conducted their sons to school, +giving them their last advice in the street, and many mothers +accompanied their sons to their seats, to see whether the inkstand was +filled, and to try their pens, and they still continued to hover round +the entrance, and to say: + +"Courage! Attention! I entreat you." + +Our assistant-master was Coatti, the one with the black beard, who +mimics the voice of a lion, and never punishes any one. There were boys +who were white with fear. When the master broke the seal of the letter +from the town-hall, and drew out the problem, not a breath was audible. +He announced the problem loudly, staring now at one, now at another, +with terrible eyes; but we understood that had he been able to announce +the answer also, so that we might all get promoted, he would have been +delighted. + +After an hour of work many began to grow weary, for the problem was +difficult. One cried. Crossi dealt himself blows on the head. And many +of them are not to blame, poor boys, for not knowing, for they have not +had much time to study, and have been neglected by their parents. But +Providence was at hand. You should have seen Derossi, and what trouble +he took to help them; how ingenious he was in getting a figure passed +on, and in suggesting an operation, without allowing himself to be +caught; so anxious for all that he appeared to be our teacher himself. +Garrone, too, who is strong in arithmetic, helped all he could; and he +even assisted Nobis, who, finding himself in a quandary, was quite +gentle. + +Stardi remained motionless for more than an hour, with his eyes on the +problem, and his fists on his temples, and then he finished the whole +thing in five minutes. The master made his round among the benches, +saying:-- + +"Be calm! Be calm! I advise you to be calm!" + +And when he saw that any one was discouraged, he opened his mouth, as +though about to devour him, in imitation of a lion, in order to make him +laugh and inspire him with courage. Toward eleven o'clock, peeping down +through the blinds, I perceived many parents pacing the street in their +impatience. There was Precossi's father, in his blue blouse, who had +deserted his shop, with his face still quite black. There was Crossi's +mother, the vegetable-vender; and Nelli's mother, dressed in black, who +could not stand still. + +A little before mid-day, my father arrived and raised his eyes to my +window; my dear father! At noon we had all finished. And it was a sight +at the close of school! Every one ran to meet the boys, to ask +questions, to turn over the leaves of the copy-books to compare them +with the work of their comrades. + +"How many operations? What is the total? And subtraction? And the +answer? And the punctuation of decimals?" + +All the masters were running about hither and thither, summoned in a +hundred directions. + +My father instantly took from my hand the rough copy, looked at it, and +said, "That's well." + +Beside us was the blacksmith, Precossi, who was also inspecting his +son's work, but rather uneasily, and not comprehending it. He turned to +my father:-- + +"Will you do me the favor to tell me the total?" + +My father read the number. The other gazed and reckoned. "Brave little +one!" he exclaimed, in perfect content. And my father and he gazed at +each other for a moment with a kindly smile, like two friends. My father +offered his hand, and the other shook it; and they parted, saying, +"Farewell until the oral examination." + +"Until the oral examination." + +After proceeding a few paces, we heard a falsetto voice which made us +turn our heads. It was the blacksmith-ironmonger singing. + + +THE LAST EXAMINATION. + + Friday, 7th. + +This morning we had our oral examinations. At eight o'clock we were all +in the schoolroom, and at a quarter past they began to call us, four at +a time, into the big hall, where there was a large table covered with a +green cloth; round it were seated the head-master and four other +masters, among them our own. I was one of the first called out. Poor +master! how plainly I perceived this morning that you are really fond of +us! While they were interrogating the others, he had no eyes for any one +but us. He was troubled when we were uncertain in our replies; he grew +serene when we gave a fine answer; he heard everything, and made us a +thousand signs with his hand and head, to say to us, "Good!--no!--pay +attention!--slower!--courage!" + +He would have suggested everything to us, had he been able to talk. If +the fathers of all these pupils had been in his place, one after the +other, they could not have done more. They would have cried "Thanks!" +ten times, in the face of them all. And when the other masters said to +me, "That is well; you may go," his eyes beamed with pleasure. + +I returned at once to the schoolroom to wait for my father. Nearly all +were still there. I sat down beside Garrone. I was not at all cheerful; +I was thinking that it was the last time that we should be near each +other for an hour. I had not yet told Garrone that I should not go +through the fourth grade with him, that I was to leave Turin with my +father. He knew nothing. And he sat there, doubled up together, with his +big head reclining on the desk, making ornaments round the photograph +of his father, who was dressed like a machinist, and who is a tall, +large man, with a bull neck and a serious, honest look, like himself. +And as he sat thus bent together, with his blouse a little open in +front, I saw on his bare and robust breast the gold cross which Nelli's +mother had presented to him, when she learned that he protected her son. +But it was necessary to tell him sometime that I was going away. I said +to him:-- + +"Garrone, my father is going away from Turin this autumn, for good. He +asked me if I were going, also. I replied that I was." + +"You will not go through the fourth grade with us?" he said to me. I +answered "No." + +Then he did not speak to me for a while, but went on with his drawing. +Then, without raising his head, he inquired: + +"And shall you remember your comrades of the third grade?" + +"Yes," I told him, "all of them; but you more than all the rest. Who can +forget you?" + +He looked at me fixedly and seriously, with a gaze that said a thousand +things, but he said nothing; he only offered me his left hand, +pretending to continue his drawing with the other; and I pressed it +between mine, that strong and loyal hand. At that moment the master +entered hastily, with a red face, and said, in a low, quick voice, with +a joyful intonation:-- + +"Good, all is going well now, let the rest come forwards; _bravi_, boys! +Courage! I am extremely well satisfied." And, in order to show us his +contentment, and to exhilarate us, as he went out in haste, he made a +motion of stumbling and of catching at the wall, to prevent a fall; he +whom we had never seen laugh! The thing appeared so strange, that, +instead of laughing, all remained stupefied; all smiled, no one laughed. + +Well, I do not know,--that act of childish joy caused both pain and +tenderness. All his reward was that moment of cheerfulness,--it was the +compensation for nine months of kindness, patience, and even sorrow! For +that he had toiled so long; for that he had so often gone to give +lessons to a sick boy, poor teacher! That and nothing more was what he +demanded of us, in exchange for so much affection and so much care! + +And, now, it seems to me that I shall always see him in the performance +of that act, when I recall him through many years; and when I have +become a man, he will still be alive, and we shall meet, and I will tell +him about that deed which touched my heart; and I will give him a kiss +on his white head. + + +FAREWELL. + + Monday, 10th. + +At one o'clock we all assembled once more for the last time at the +school, to hear the results of the examinations, and to take our little +promotion books. The street was thronged with parents, who had even +invaded the big hall, and many had made their way into the class-rooms, +thrusting themselves even to the master's desk: in our room they filled +the entire space between the wall and the front benches. There were +Garrone's father, Derossi's mother, the blacksmith Precossi, Coretti, +Signora Nelli, the vegetable-vender, the father of the little mason, +Stardi's father, and many others whom I had never seen; and on all sides +a whispering and a hum were audible, that seemed to proceed from the +square outside. + +The master entered, and a profound silence ensued. He had the list in +his hand, and began to read at once. + +"Abatucci, promoted, sixty seventieths. Archini, promoted, fifty-five +seventieths."--The little mason promoted; Crossi promoted. Then he read +loudly:-- + +"Ernesto Derossi, promoted, seventy seventieths, and the first prize." + +All the parents who were there--and they all knew him--said:-- + +"Bravo, bravo, Derossi!" And he shook his golden curls, with his easy +and beautiful smile, and looked at his mother, who made him a salute +with her hand. + +Garoffi, Garrone, the Calabrian promoted. Then three or four sent back; +and one of them began to cry because his father, who was at the +entrance, made a menacing gesture at him. But the master said to the +father:-- + +"No, sir, excuse me; it is not always the boy's fault; it is often his +misfortune. And that is the case here." Then he read:-- + +"Nelli, promoted, sixty-two seventieths." His mother sent him a kiss +from her fan. Stardi, promoted, with sixty-seven seventieths! but, at +hearing this fine fate, he did not even smile, or remove his fists from +his temples. The last was Votini, who had come very finely dressed and +brushed,--promoted. After reading the last name, the master rose and +said:-- + +"Boys, this is the last time that we shall find ourselves assembled +together in this room. We have been together a year, and now we part +good friends, do we not? I am sorry to part from you, my dear boys." He +interrupted himself, then he resumed: "If I have sometimes failed in +patience, if sometimes, without intending it, I have been unjust, or too +severe, forgive me." + +"No, no!" cried the parents and many of the scholars,--"no, master, +never!" + +"Forgive me," repeated the master, "and think well of me. Next year you +will not be with me; but I shall see you again, and you will always +abide in my heart. Farewell until we meet again, boys!" + +So saying, he stepped forward among us, and we all offered him our +hands, as we stood up on the seats, and grasped him by the arms, and by +the skirts of his coat; many kissed him; fifty voices cried in concert: + +"Farewell until we meet again, teacher!--Thanks, teacher!--May your +health be good!--Remember us!" + +When I went out, I felt oppressed by the commotion. We all ran out +confusedly. Boys were emerging from all the other class-rooms also. +There was a great mixing and tumult of boys and parents, bidding the +masters and the mistresses good by, and exchanging greetings among +themselves. The mistress with the red feather had four or five children +on top of her, and twenty around her, depriving her of breath; and they +had half torn off the little nun's bonnet, and thrust a dozen bunches of +flowers in the button-holes of her black dress, and in her pockets. Many +were making much of Robetti, who had that day, for the first time, +abandoned his crutches. On all sides the words were audible:-- + +"Good by until next year!--Until the twentieth of October!" We greeted +each other, too. Ah! now all disagreements were forgotten at that +moment! Votini, who had always been so jealous of Derossi, was the first +to throw himself on him with open arms. I saluted the little mason, and +kissed him, just at the moment when he was making me his last hare's +face, dear boy! I saluted Precossi. I saluted Garoffi, who announced to +me the approach of his last lottery, and gave me a little paper weight +of majolica, with a broken corner; I said farewell to all the others. It +was beautiful to see poor Nelli clinging to Garrone, so that he could +not be taken from him. All thronged around Garrone, and it was, +"Farewell, Garrone!--Good by until we meet!" And they touched him, and +pressed his hands, and made much of him, that brave, sainted boy; and +his father was perfectly amazed, as he looked on and smiled. + +Garrone was the last one whom I embraced in the street, and I stifled a +sob against his breast: he kissed my brow. Then I ran to my father and +mother. My father asked me: "Have you spoken to all of your comrades?" + +I replied that I had. "If there is any one of them whom you have +wronged, go and ask his pardon, and beg him to forget it. Is there no +one?" + +"No one," I answered. + +"Farewell, then," said my father with a voice full of emotion, bestowing +a last glance on the schoolhouse. And my mother repeated: "Farewell!" + +And I could not say anything. + + + + + * * * * * + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE + + +The original language and spelling have been retained, except where +noted. Minimal typographical errors concerning punctuation have been +corrected without notes. + +The signatures at the end of the following sections + + MY MOTHER. + POETRY. + GARIBALDI. + ITALY. + MY FATHER. + THE LAST PAGE FROM MY MOTHER. + +are missing in the original text and have been added according to the +Italian editions of the book. + +The [oe] ligature has been rendered as "oe". + +The following changes were made to the original text (the original text +is on the first line, the correction is on the following line): + + 97: two battalions of Italian infantry and two cannon + two battalions of Italian infantry and two cannons + + 117: replied, that the the man was a mason who had + replied, that the man was a mason who had + + 177: Feruccio stood listening three paces away, leaning + Ferruccio stood listening three paces away, leaning + + 201: with the wound on his neck, who was with Garabaldi, + with the wound on his neck, who was with Garibaldi, + + 292: which anounced the field artillery; and then the + which announced the field artillery; and then the + + * * * * * + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Cuore (Heart), by Edmondo De Amicis + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CUORE (HEART) *** + +***** This file should be named 28961-8.txt or 28961-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/9/6/28961/ + +Produced by Emanuela Piasentini and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Cuore (Heart) + An Italian Schoolboy's Journal + +Author: Edmondo De Amicis + +Translator: Isabel F. Hapgood + +Release Date: May 24, 2009 [EBook #28961] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CUORE (HEART) *** + + + + +Produced by Emanuela Piasentini and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 393px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="393" height="600" alt="Cuore, Edmondo de Amicis" title="Cuore, Edmondo de Amicis" /> +</div> + +<h1>CUORE</h1> + +<p class="title" style="font-size: 130%;">(HEART)<br /><br /> + +AN<br /><br /> + +ITALIAN SCHOOLBOY’S JOURNAL</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 199px;"> +<img src="images/title.jpg" width="199" height="34" alt="A Book for Boys" title="A Book for Boys" /> +</div> + +<p class="title"><small>BY</small><br /><br /> + +<span style="letter-spacing: 0.1em;">EDMONDO DE AMICIS</span></p> + +<p class="title"><i><small>TRANSLATED FROM THE THIRTY-NINTH ITALIAN EDITION</small></i><br /> + +<small>BY</small><br /> + +ISABEL F. HAPGOOD</p> + +<hr style="visibility: hidden; margin: 2em;" /> + +<p class="title">NEW YORK<br /> +THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY<br /> +PUBLISHERS +</p> +<hr style="visibility: hidden; margin: 2em;" /> + + +<p class="title"><small><span class="smcap">Copyright</span>, 1887, 1895 and 1901.</small><br /> + +<span class="smcap">By THOMAS Y. CROWELL & COMPANY</span></p> +<hr style="visibility: hidden; margin: 2em;" /> +<p class="title"><small><span class="smcap">Copyright</span>, 1915.</small><br /> + +<span class="smcap">By ISABEL F. HAPGOOD</span></p> + +<hr style="visibility: hidden; margin: 2em;" /> + +<p class="title">Printed in the United States of America</p> + + + +<h2>AUTHOR’S PREFACE</h2> + +<hr style="width: 5%;" /> + + +<p><span class="smcap">This</span> book is specially dedicated to the boys of the +elementary schools between the ages of nine and thirteen +years, and might be entitled: “The Story of a +Scholastic Year written by a Pupil of the Third Class +of an Italian Municipal School.” In saying written by +a pupil of the third class, I do not mean to say that +it was written by him exactly as it is printed. He +noted day by day in a copy-book, as well as he knew +how, what he had seen, felt, thought in the school and +outside the school; his father at the end of the year +wrote these pages on those notes, taking care not to +alter the thought, and preserving, when it was possible, +the words of his son. Four years later the boy, being +then in the lyceum, read over the MSS. and added +something of his own, drawing on his memories, still +fresh, of persons and of things.</p> + +<p>Now read this book, boys; I hope that you will be +pleased with it, and that it may do you good.</p> + +<p class="sig"> +Edmondo De Amicis. +</p> + + + + + + +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS.</h2> + +<table summary="contents"> +<tr> +<td class="mon"> +<a href="#OCTOBER">OCTOBER.</a></td><td class="right"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The First Day of School</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#First">1</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Our Master</span></td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_3">3</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">An Accident</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_5">5</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Calabrian Boy</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_6">6</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">My Comrades</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_8">8</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">A Generous Deed</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">My Schoolmistress of the Upper First</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_12">12</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">In an Attic</span></td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_14">14</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The School</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_16">16</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<i>The Little Patriot of Padua</i> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_17">17</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Chimney-Sweep</span></td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_20">20</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Day of the Dead</span></td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_22">22</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td class="mon"> + +<a href="#NOVEMBER">NOVEMBER.</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">My Friend Garrone</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_24">24</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Charcoal-Man and the Gentleman</span> </td><td class="right"><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">My Brother’s Schoolmistress</span></td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_28">28</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">My Mother</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_30">30</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">My Companion Coretti</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_31">31</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Head-Master</span> </td><td class="right"><a href="#Page_35">35</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Soldiers</span></td><td class="right"><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Nelli’s Protector</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_40">40</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Head of the Class</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_42">42</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<i>The Little Vidette of Lombardy</i></td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_44">44</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Poor</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_50">50</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td class="mon"> + +<a href="#DECEMBER">DECEMBER.</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> + +<span class="smcap">The Trader</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_52">52</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Vanity</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_54">54</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The First Snow-Storm</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_56">56</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Little Mason</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_58">58</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[iv]</a></span></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">A Snowball</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_61">61</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Mistresses</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_62">62</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">In the House of the Wounded Man</span></td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_64">64</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<i>The Little Florentine Scribe</i></td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Will</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_75">75</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Gratitude</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_77">77</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td class="mon"> + +<a href="#JANUARY">JANUARY.</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> + +<span class="smcap">The Assistant Master</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_79">79</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Stardi’s Library</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_81">81</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Son of the Blacksmith-Ironmonger</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_83">83</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">A Fine Visit</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_85">85</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Funeral of Vittorio Emanuele</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_87">87</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Franti Expelled from School</span></td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_89">89</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<i>The Sardinian Drummer-Boy</i> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_91">91</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Love of Country</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_100">100</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Envy</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_102">102</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Franti’s Mother</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_104">104</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Hope</span></td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_105">105</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td class="mon"> + +<a href="#FEBRUARY">FEBRUARY.</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> + +<span class="smcap">A Medal Well Bestowed</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_108">108</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Good Resolutions</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_110">110</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Engine</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_112">112</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Pride</span> </td><td class="right"><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Wounds of Labor</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_116">116</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Prisoner</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_118">118</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<i>Daddy’s Nurse</i> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_122">122</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Workshop</span></td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_132">132</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Little Harlequin</span> </td><td class="right"><a href="#Page_135">135</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Last Day of the Carnival</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_139">139</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Blind Boys</span></td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_142">142</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Sick Master</span></td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_149">149</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Street</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_151">151</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td class="mon"> + +<a href="#MARCH">MARCH.</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> + +<span class="smcap">The Evening Schools</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_154">154</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Fight</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_156">156</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Boys’ Parents</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_158">158</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Number 78</span></td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_160">160</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">A Little Dead Boy</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_163">163</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Eve of the Fourteenth of March</span> </td><td class="right"><a href="#Page_164">164</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Distribution of Prizes</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_166">166</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Strife</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_172">172</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">My Sister</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_174">174</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<i>Blood of Romagna</i> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_176">176</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Little Mason on His Sick-Bed</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_184">184</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Count Cavour</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_187">187</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td class="mon"> + +<a href="#APRIL">APRIL.</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> + +<span class="smcap">Spring</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_189">189</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">King Umberto</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_191">191</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Infant Asylum</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_196">196</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Gymnastics</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_201">201</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">My Father’s Teacher</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_204">204</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Convalescence</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_215">215</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Friends Among the Workingmen</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_217">217</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Garrone’s Mother</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_219">219</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Giuseppe Mazzini</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_221">221</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<i>Civic Valor</i></td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_223">223</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td class="mon"> + +<a href="#MAY">MAY.</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> + +<span class="smcap">Children with the Rickets</span></td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_229">229</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Sacrifice</span></td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_231">231</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Fire</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_233">233</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<i>From the Apennines to the Andes</i> </td><td class="right"><a href="#Page_237">237</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Summer</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_276">276</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Poetry</span> </td><td class="right"><a href="#Page_278">278</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Deaf-Mute</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_280">280</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td class="mon"> + +<a href="#JUNE">JUNE.</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> + +<span class="smcap">Garibaldi</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_290">290</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Army</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_291">291</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Italy</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_293">293</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Thirty-Two Degrees</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_295">295</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">My Father</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_297">297</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">In the Country</span></td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_298">298</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a></span></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Distribution of Prizes to the Workingmen</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_302">302</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">My Dead Schoolmistress</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_305">305</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Thanks</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_308">308</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<i>Shipwreck</i> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_309">309</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td class="mon"> + +<a href="#JULY">JULY.</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> + +<span class="smcap">The Last Page from my Mother</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_317">317</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Examinations</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_318">318</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">The Last Examination</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_321">321</a></td></tr> +<tr> +<td> +<span class="smcap">Farewell</span> </td><td class="right"> <a href="#Page_323">323</a></td></tr> +</table> + + + +<hr /> +<h1><a name="CUORE" id="CUORE"></a>CUORE.</h1> + +<p class="title">AN ITALIAN SCHOOLBOY’S JOURNAL.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> +<h2><a name="OCTOBER" id="OCTOBER"></a><i>OCTOBER.</i></h2> + + +<h3 style="text-align: right; margin-right: 2em;"><a name="First" id="First"></a>FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Monday, 17th.<br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">To-day</span> is the first day of school. These three +months of vacation in the country have passed like a +dream. This morning my mother conducted me to the +Baretti schoolhouse to have me enter for the third +elementary course: I was thinking of the country and +went unwillingly. All the streets were swarming with +boys: the two book-shops were thronged with fathers +and mothers who were purchasing bags, portfolios, +and copy-books, and in front of the school so many +people had collected, that the beadle and the policeman +found it difficult to keep the entrance disencumbered. +Near the door, I felt myself touched on the shoulder: +it was my master of the second class, cheerful, as usual, +and with his red hair ruffled, and he said to me:—</p> + +<p>“So we are separated forever, Enrico?”</p> + +<p>I knew it perfectly well, yet these words pained me. +We made our way in with difficulty. Ladies, gentlemen, +women of the people, workmen, officials, nuns, +servants, all leading boys with one hand, and holding +the promotion books in the other, filled the anteroom +and the stairs, making such a buzzing, that it seemed +as though one were entering a theatre. I beheld again +with pleasure that large room on the ground floor, with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> +the doors leading to the seven classes, where I had +passed nearly every day for three years. There was +a throng; the teachers were going and coming. My +schoolmistress of the first upper class greeted me from +the door of the class-room, and said:—</p> + +<p>“Enrico, you are going to the floor above this year. +I shall never see you pass by any more!” and she +gazed sadly at me. The director was surrounded by +women in distress because there was no room for their +sons, and it struck me that his beard was a little whiter +than it had been last year. I found the boys had +grown taller and stouter. On the ground floor, where +the divisions had already been made, there were little +children of the first and lowest section, who did not +want to enter the class-rooms, and who resisted like +donkeys: it was necessary to drag them in by force, +and some escaped from the benches; others, when they +saw their parents depart, began to cry, and the parents +had to go back and comfort and reprimand them, and +the teachers were in despair.</p> + +<p>My little brother was placed in the class of Mistress +Delcati: I was put with Master Perboni, up +stairs on the first floor. At ten o’clock we were all in +our classes: fifty-four of us; only fifteen or sixteen of +my companions of the second class, among them, +Derossi, the one who always gets the first prize. The +school seemed to me so small and gloomy when I +thought of the woods and the mountains where I had +passed the summer! I thought again, too, of my +master in the second class, who was so good, and who +always smiled at us, and was so small that he seemed +to be one of us, and I grieved that I should no longer +see him there, with his tumbled red hair. Our teacher +is tall; he has no beard; his hair is gray and long; and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> +he has a perpendicular wrinkle on his forehead: he has +a big voice, and he looks at us fixedly, one after the +other, as though he were reading our inmost thoughts; +and he never smiles. I said to myself: “This is my +first day. There are nine months more. What toil, +what monthly examinations, what fatigue!” I really +needed to see my mother when I came out, and I ran +to kiss her hand. She said to me:—</p> + +<p>“Courage, Enrico! we will study together.” And I +returned home content. But I no longer have my +master, with his kind, merry smile, and school does not +seem pleasant to me as it did before.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>OUR MASTER.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Tuesday, 18th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>My new teacher pleases me also, since this morning. +While we were coming in, and when he was already +seated at his post, some one of his scholars of last year +every now and then peeped in at the door to salute +him; they would present themselves and greet him:—</p> + +<p>“Good morning, Signor Teacher!” “Good morning, +Signor Perboni!” Some entered, touched his hand, and +ran away. It was evident that they liked him, and +would have liked to return to him. He responded, +“Good morning,” and shook the hands which were +extended to him, but he looked at no one; at every +greeting his smile remained serious, with that perpendicular +wrinkle on his brow, with his face turned +towards the window, and staring at the roof of the +house opposite; and instead of being cheered by these +greetings, he seemed to suffer from them. Then he surveyed +us attentively, one after the other. While he was +dictating, he descended and walked among the benches,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> +and, catching sight of a boy whose face was all red with +little pimples, he stopped dictating, took the lad’s face +between his hands and examined it; then he asked him +what was the matter with him, and laid his hand on +his forehead, to feel if it was hot. Meanwhile, a +boy behind him got up on the bench, and began to +play the marionette. The teacher turned round suddenly; +the boy resumed his seat at one dash, and remained +there, with head hanging, in expectation of +being punished. The master placed one hand on his +head and said to him:—</p> + +<p>“Don’t do so again.” Nothing more.</p> + +<p>Then he returned to his table and finished the dictation. +When he had finished dictating, he looked at us +a moment in silence; then he said, very, very slowly, +with his big but kind voice:—</p> + +<p>“Listen. We have a year to pass together; let +us see that we pass it well. Study and be good. I +have no family; you are my family. Last year I had +still a mother: she is dead. I am left alone. I have +no one but you in all the world; I have no other affection, +no other thought than you: you must be my sons. +I wish you well, and you must like me too. I do not +wish to be obliged to punish any one. Show me that +you are boys of heart: our school shall be a family, and +you shall be my consolation and my pride. I do not +ask you to give me a promise on your word of honor; +I am sure that in your hearts you have already +answered me ‘yes,’ and I thank you.”</p> + +<p>At that moment the beadle entered to announce the +close of school. We all left our seats very, very +quietly. The boy who had stood up on the bench +approached the master, and said to him, in a trembling +voice:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>“Forgive me, Signor Master.”</p> + +<p>The master kissed him on the brow, and said, “Go, +my son.”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>AN ACCIDENT.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Friday, 21st.<br /> +</p> + +<p>The year has begun with an accident. On my way +to school this morning I was repeating to my father +these words of our teacher, when we perceived that the +street was full of people, who were pressing close to +the door of the schoolhouse. Suddenly my father +said: “An accident! The year is beginning badly!”</p> + +<p>We entered with great difficulty. The big hall was +crowded with parents and children, whom the teachers +had not succeeded in drawing off into the class-rooms, +and all were turning towards the director’s room, and +we heard the words, “Poor boy! Poor Robetti!”</p> + +<p>Over their heads, at the end of the room, we could +see the helmet of a policeman, and the bald head of +the director; then a gentleman with a tall hat entered, +and all said, “That is the doctor.” My father inquired +of a master, “What has happened?”—“A +wheel has passed over his foot,” replied the latter. +“His foot has been crushed,” said another. He was a +boy belonging to the second class, who, on his way to +school through the Via Dora Grossa, seeing a little +child of the lowest class, who had run away from its +mother, fall down in the middle of the street, a few +paces from an omnibus which was bearing down upon +it, had hastened boldly forward, caught up the child, +and placed it in safety; but, as he had not withdrawn +his own foot quickly enough, the wheel of the omnibus +had passed over it. He is the son of a captain of +artillery. While we were being told this, a woman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +entered the big hall, like a lunatic, and forced her way +through the crowd: she was Robetti’s mother, who had +been sent for. Another woman hastened towards her, +and flung her arms about her neck, with sobs: it was +the mother of the baby who had been saved. Both +flew into the room, and a desperate cry made itself +heard: “Oh my Giulio! My child!”</p> + +<p>At that moment a carriage stopped before the door, +and a little later the director made his appearance, with +the boy in his arms; the latter leaned his head on his +shoulder, with pallid face and closed eyes. Every one +stood very still; the sobs of the mother were audible. +The director paused a moment, quite pale, and raised +the boy up a little in his arms, in order to show him to +the people. And then the masters, mistresses, parents, +and boys all murmured together: “Bravo, Robetti! +Bravo, poor child!” and they threw kisses to him; +the mistresses and boys who were near him kissed his +hands and his arms. He opened his eyes and said, +“My portfolio!” The mother of the little boy whom +he had saved showed it to him and said, amid her +tears, “I will carry it for you, my dear little angel; I +will carry it for you.” And in the meantime, the +mother of the wounded boy smiled, as she covered her +face with her hands. They went out, placed the lad +comfortably in the carriage, and the carriage drove +away. Then we all entered school in silence.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE CALABRIAN BOY.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Saturday, 22d.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Yesterday afternoon, while the master was telling us +the news of poor Robetti, who will have to go on +crutches, the director entered with a new pupil, a lad<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +with a very brown face, black hair, large black eyes, +and thick eyebrows which met on his forehead: he was +dressed entirely in dark clothes, with a black morocco +belt round his waist. The director went away, after +speaking a few words in the master’s ear, leaving +beside the latter the boy, who glanced about with his +big black eyes as though frightened. The master took +him by the hand, and said to the class: “You ought +to be glad. To-day there enters our school a little +Italian born in Reggio, in Calabria, more than five hundred +miles from here. Love your brother who has +come from so far away. He was born in a glorious +land, which has given illustrious men to Italy, and +which now furnishes her with stout laborers and brave +soldiers; in one of the most beautiful lands of our +country, where there are great forests, and great mountains, +inhabited by people full of talent and courage. +Treat him well, so that he shall not perceive that he is +far away from the city in which he was born; make +him see that an Italian boy, in whatever Italian school +he sets his foot, will find brothers there.” So saying, +he rose and pointed out on the wall map of Italy the +spot where lay Reggio, in Calabria. Then he called +loudly:—</p> + +<p>“Ernesto Derossi!”—the boy who always has the +first prize. Derossi rose.</p> + +<p>“Come here,” said the master. Derossi left his +bench and stepped up to the little table, facing the +Calabrian.</p> + +<p>“As the head boy in the school,” said the master to +him, “bestow the embrace of welcome on this new +companion, in the name of the whole class—the embrace +of the sons of Piedmont to the son of Calabria.”</p> + +<p>Derossi embraced the Calabrian, saying in his clear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +voice, “Welcome!” and the other kissed him impetuously +on the cheeks. All clapped their hands. +“Silence!” cried the master; “don’t clap your hands +in school!” But it was evident that he was pleased. +And the Calabrian was pleased also. The master +assigned him a place, and accompanied him to the +bench. Then he said again:—</p> + +<p>“Bear well in mind what I have said to you. In +order that this case might occur, that a Calabrian boy +should be as though in his own house at Turin, and +that a boy from Turin should be at home in Calabria, +our country fought for fifty years, and thirty thousand +Italians died. You must all respect and love each +other; but any one of you who should give offence to +this comrade, because he was not born in our province, +would render himself unworthy of ever again raising +his eyes from the earth when he passes the tricolored +flag.”</p> + +<p>Hardly was the Calabrian seated in his place, when +his neighbors presented him with pens and a <i>print</i>; and +another boy, from the last bench, sent him a Swiss +postage-stamp.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>MY COMRADES.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Tuesday, 25th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>The boy who sent the postage-stamp to the Calabrian +is the one who pleases me best of all. His +name is Garrone: he is the biggest boy in the class: +he is about fourteen years old; his head is large, +his shoulders broad; he is good, as one can see when +he smiles; but it seems as though he always thought +like a man. I already know many of my comrades. +Another one pleases me, too, by the name of Coretti,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +and he wears chocolate-colored trousers and a catskin +cap: he is always jolly; he is the son of a huckster +of wood, who was a soldier in the war of 1866, in the +squadron of Prince Umberto, and they say that he has +three medals. There is little Nelli, a poor hunchback, +a weak boy, with a thin face. There is one who +is very well dressed, who always wears fine Florentine +plush, and is named Votini. On the bench in front of +me there is a boy who is called “the little mason” +because his father is a mason: his face is as round +as an apple, with a nose like a small ball; he possesses +a special talent: he knows how to make <i>a hare’s face</i>, +and they all get him to make a hare’s face, and then +they laugh. He wears a little ragged cap, which he +carries rolled up in his pocket like a handkerchief. +Beside the little mason there sits Garoffi, a long, +thin, silly fellow, with a nose and beak of a screech +owl, and very small eyes, who is always trafficking +in little pens and images and match-boxes, and who +writes the lesson on his nails, in order that he may read +it on the sly. Then there is a young gentleman, Carlo +Nobis, who seems very haughty; and he is between +two boys who are sympathetic to me,—the son of a +blacksmith-ironmonger, clad in a jacket which reaches +to his knees, who is pale, as though from illness, who +always has a frightened air, and who never laughs; +and one with red hair, who has a useless arm, and +wears it suspended from his neck; his father has gone +away to America, and his mother goes about peddling +pot-herbs. And there is another curious type,—my +neighbor on the left,—Stardi—small and thickset, with +no neck,—a gruff fellow, who speaks to no one, and +seems not to understand much, but stands attending to +the master without winking, his brow corrugated with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +wrinkles, and his teeth clenched; and if he is questioned +when the master is speaking, he makes no reply +the first and second times, and the third time he gives +a kick: and beside him there is a bold, cunning face, +belonging to a boy named Franti, who has already +been expelled from another district. There are, in +addition, two brothers who are dressed exactly alike, +who resemble each other to a hair, and both of whom +wear caps of Calabrian cut, with a peasant’s plume. +But handsomer than all the rest, the one who has the +most talent, who will surely be the head this year also, +is Derossi; and the master, who has already perceived +this, always questions him. But I like Precossi, the +son of the blacksmith-ironmonger, the one with the +long jacket, who seems sickly. They say that his +father beats him; he is very timid, and every time that +he addresses or touches any one, he says, “Excuse +me,” and gazes at them with his kind, sad eyes. But +Garrone is the biggest and the nicest.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>A GENEROUS DEED.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Wednesday, 26th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>It was this very morning that Garrone let us know +what he is like. When I entered the school a little +late, because the mistress of the upper first had stopped +me to inquire at what hour she could find me at home, +the master had not yet arrived, and three or four boys +were tormenting poor Crossi, the one with the red hair, +who has a dead arm, and whose mother sells vegetables. +They were poking him with rulers, hitting him +in the face with chestnut shells, and were making +him out to be a cripple and a monster, by mimicking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +him, with his arm hanging from his neck. And he, +alone on the end of the bench, and quite pale, began to +be affected by it, gazing now at one and now at another +with beseeching eyes, that they might leave him in +peace. But the others mocked him worse than ever, +and he began to tremble and to turn crimson with rage. +All at once, Franti, the boy with the repulsive face, +sprang upon a bench, and pretending that he was carrying +a basket on each arm, he aped the mother of +Crossi, when she used to come to wait for her son at +the door; for she is ill now. Many began to laugh +loudly. Then Crossi lost his head, and seizing an inkstand, +he hurled it at the other’s head with all his +strength; but Franti dodged, and the inkstand struck +the master, who entered at the moment, full in the +breast.</p> + +<p>All flew to their places, and became silent with +terror.</p> + +<p>The master, quite pale, went to his table, and said +in a constrained voice:—</p> + +<p>“Who did it?”</p> + +<p>No one replied.</p> + +<p>The master cried out once more, raising his voice +still louder, “Who is it?”</p> + +<p>Then Garrone, moved to pity for poor Crossi, rose +abruptly and said, resolutely, “It was I.”</p> + +<p>The master looked at him, looked at the stupefied +scholars; then said in a tranquil voice, “It was not +you.”</p> + +<p>And, after a moment: “The culprit shall not be +punished. Let him rise!”</p> + +<p>Crossi rose and said, weeping, “They were striking +me and insulting me, and I lost my head, and +threw it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“Sit down,” said the master. “Let those who +provoked him rise.”</p> + +<p>Four rose, and hung their heads.</p> + +<p>“You,” said the master, “have insulted a companion +who had given you no provocation; you have +scoffed at an unfortunate lad, you have struck a +weak person who could not defend himself. You +have committed one of the basest, the most shameful +acts with which a human creature can stain himself. +Cowards!”</p> + +<p>Having said this, he came down among the benches, +put his hand under Garrone’s chin, as the latter stood +with drooping head, and having made him raise it, he +looked him straight in the eye, and said to him, “You +are a noble soul.”</p> + +<p>Garrone profited by the occasion to murmur some +words, I know not what, in the ear of the master; +and he, turning towards the four culprits, said, +abruptly, “I forgive you.”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>MY SCHOOLMISTRESS OF THE UPPER FIRST.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Thursday, 27th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>My schoolmistress has kept her promise which she +made, and came to-day just as I was on the point of +going out with my mother to carry some linen to a poor +woman recommended by the <i>Gazette</i>. It was a year +since I had seen her in our house. We all made a +great deal of her. She is just the same as ever, a little +thing, with a green veil wound about her bonnet, carelessly +dressed, and with untidy hair, because she has +not time to keep herself nice; but with a little less<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +color than last year, with some white hairs, and a +constant cough. My mother said to her:—</p> + +<p>“And your health, my dear mistress? You do not +take sufficient care of yourself!”</p> + +<p>“It does not matter,” the other replied, with her +smile, at once cheerful and melancholy.</p> + +<p>“You speak too loud,” my mother added; “you exert +yourself too much with your boys.”</p> + +<p>That is true; her voice is always to be heard; I +remember how it was when I went to school to her; she +talked and talked all the time, so that the boys might +not divert their attention, and she did not remain +seated a moment. I felt quite sure that she would +come, because she never forgets her pupils; she remembers +their names for years; on the days of the +monthly examination, she runs to ask the director +what marks they have won; she waits for them at the +entrance, and makes them show her their compositions, +in order that she may see what progress they have +made; and many still come from the gymnasium to see +her, who already wear long trousers and a watch. To-day +she had come back in a great state of excitement, +from the picture-gallery, whither she had taken her +boys, just as she had conducted them all to a museum +every Thursday in years gone by, and explained everything +to them. The poor mistress has grown still thinner +than of old. But she is always brisk, and always +becomes animated when she speaks of her school. She +wanted to have a peep at the bed on which she had +seen me lying very ill two years ago, and which is now +occupied by my brother; she gazed at it for a while, +and could not speak. She was obliged to go away soon +to visit a boy belonging to her class, the son of a saddler, +who is ill with the measles; and she had besides<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +a package of sheets to correct, a whole evening’s work, +and she has still a private lesson in arithmetic to give +to the mistress of a shop before nightfall.</p> + +<p>“Well, Enrico,” she said to me as she was going, +“are you still fond of your schoolmistress, now that +you solve difficult problems and write long compositions?” +She kissed me, and called up once more from +the foot of the stairs: “You are not to forget me, you +know, Enrico!” Oh, my kind teacher, never, never +will I forget thee! Even when I grow up I will remember +thee and will go to seek thee among thy boys; +and every time that I pass near a school and hear the +voice of a schoolmistress, I shall think that I hear thy +voice, and I shall recall the two years that I passed in +thy school, where I learned so many things, where I +so often saw thee ill and weary, but always earnest, always +indulgent, in despair when any one acquired a +bad trick in the writing-fingers, trembling when the examiners +interrogated us, happy when we made a good +appearance, always kind and loving as a mother. +Never, never shall I forget thee, my teacher!</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>IN AN ATTIC.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Friday, 28th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Yesterday afternoon I went with my mother and my +sister Sylvia, to carry the linen to the poor woman recommended +by the newspaper: I carried the bundle; +Sylvia had the paper with the initials of the name and +the address. We climbed to the very roof of a tall +house, to a long corridor with many doors. My mother +knocked at the last; it was opened by a woman who +was still young, blond and thin, and it instantly struck<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +me that I had seen her many times before, with that +very same blue kerchief that she wore on her head.</p> + +<p>“Are you the person of whom the newspaper says +so and so?” asked my mother.</p> + +<p>“Yes, signora, I am.”</p> + +<p>“Well, we have brought you a little linen.” Then +the woman began to thank us and bless us, and could +not make enough of it. Meanwhile I espied in one +corner of the bare, dark room, a boy kneeling in front +of a chair, with his back turned towards us, who appeared +to be writing; and he really was writing, with +his paper on the chair and his inkstand on the floor. +How did he manage to write thus in the dark? While +I was saying this to myself, I suddenly recognized the +red hair and the coarse jacket of Crossi, the son of the +vegetable-pedler, the boy with the useless arm. I +told my mother softly, while the woman was putting +away the things.</p> + +<p>“Hush!” replied my mother; “perhaps he will feel +ashamed to see you giving alms to his mother: don’t +speak to him.”</p> + +<p>But at that moment Crossi turned round; I was embarrassed; +he smiled, and then my mother gave me a +push, so that I should run to him and embrace him. +I did embrace him: he rose and took me by the hand.</p> + +<p>“Here I am,” his mother was saying in the meantime +to my mother, “alone with this boy, my husband +in America these seven years, and I sick in addition, +so that I can no longer make my rounds with my vegetables, +and earn a few cents. We have not even a +table left for my poor Luigino to do his work on. +When there was a bench down at the door, he could, +at least, write on the bench; but that has been taken +away. He has not even a little light so that he can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +study without ruining his eyes. And it is a mercy that +I can send him to school, since the city provides him +with books and copy-books. Poor Luigino, who would +be so glad to study! Unhappy woman, that I am!”</p> + +<p>My mother gave her all that she had in her purse, +kissed the boy, and almost wept as we went out. And +she had good cause to say to me: “Look at that poor +boy; see how he is forced to work, when you have +every comfort, and yet study seems hard to you! Ah! +Enrico, there is more merit in the work which he does +in one day, than in your work for a year. It is to +such that the first prizes should be given!”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE SCHOOL.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Friday, 28th.<br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Yes, study comes hard to you, my dear Enrico, as your +mother says: I do not yet see you set out for school with +that resolute mind and that smiling face which I should +like. You are still intractable. But listen; reflect a little! +What a miserable, despicable thing your day would be if +you did not go to school! At the end of a week you would +beg with clasped hands that you might return there, for you +would be eaten up with weariness and shame; disgusted with +your sports and with your existence. Everybody, everybody +studies now, my child. Think of the workmen who go to +school in the evening after having toiled all the day; think +of the women, of the girls of the people, who go to school +on Sunday, after having worked all the week; of the soldiers +who turn to their books and copy-books when they +return exhausted from their drill! Think of the dumb and +of the boys who are blind, but who study, nevertheless; and +last of all, think of the prisoners, who also learn to read and +write. Reflect in the morning, when you set out, that at +that very moment, in your own city, thirty thousand other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +boys are going like yourself, to shut themselves up in a +room for three hours and study. Think of the innumerable +boys who, at nearly this precise hour, are going to school in +all countries. Behold them with your imagination, going, +going, through the lanes of quiet villages; through the streets +of the noisy towns, along the shores of rivers and lakes; +here beneath a burning sun; there amid fogs, in boats, in +countries which are intersected with canals; on horseback +on the far-reaching plains; in sledges over the snow; through +valleys and over hills; across forests and torrents, over the +solitary paths of mountains; alone, in couples, in groups, in +long files, all with their books under their arms, clad in a +thousand ways, speaking a thousand tongues, from the most +remote schools in Russia. Almost lost in the ice to the furthermost +schools of Arabia, shaded by palm-trees, millions +and millions, all going to learn the same things, in a hundred +varied forms. Imagine this vast, vast throng of boys +of a hundred races, this immense movement of which you +form a part, and think, if this movement were to cease, +humanity would fall back into barbarism; this movement is +the progress, the hope, the glory of the world. Courage, +then, little soldier of the immense army. Your books are +your arms, your class is your squadron, the field of battle is +the whole earth, and the victory is human civilization. Be +not a cowardly soldier, my Enrico.</p> + +<p class="sig"> +Thy Father.<br /> +</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE LITTLE PATRIOT OF PADUA.</h3> + +<p class="title">(<i>The Monthly Story.</i>)</p> + +<p class="dat"> +Saturday, 29th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>I will not be a <i>cowardly soldier</i>, no; but I should be +much more willing to go to school if the master would +tell us a story every day, like the one he told us this +morning. “Every month,” said he, "I shall tell you +one; I shall give it to you in writing, and it will always +be the tale of a fine and noble deed performed by a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +boy. This one is called <i>The Little Patriot of Padua</i>. +Here it is. A French steamer set out from Barcelona, +a city in Spain, for Genoa; there were on board +Frenchmen, Italians, Spaniards, and Swiss. Among +the rest was a lad of eleven, poorly clad, and alone, +who always held himself aloof, like a wild animal, and +stared at all with gloomy eyes. He had good reasons +for looking at every one with forbidding eyes. Two +years previous to this time his parents, peasants in the +neighborhood of Padua, had sold him to a company of +mountebanks, who, after they had taught him how to +perform tricks, by dint of blows and kicks and starving, +had carried him all over France and Spain, beating +him continually and never giving him enough to +eat. On his arrival in Barcelona, being no longer able +to endure ill treatment and hunger, and being reduced +to a pitiable condition, he had fled from his slave-master +and had betaken himself for protection to the Italian +consul, who, moved with compassion, had placed +him on board of this steamer, and had given him a letter +to the treasurer of Genoa, who was to send the boy +back to his parents—to the parents who had sold him +like a beast. The poor lad was lacerated and weak. +He had been assigned to the second-class cabin. +Every one stared at him; some questioned him, but he +made no reply, and seemed to hate and despise every +one, to such an extent had privation and affliction +saddened and irritated him. Nevertheless, three travellers, +by dint of persisting in their questions, succeeded +in making him unloose his tongue; and in a few +rough words, a mixture of Venetian, French, and +Spanish, he related his story. These three travellers +were not Italians, but they understood him; and partly +out of compassion, partly because they were excited<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +with wine, they gave him soldi, jesting with him and +urging him on to tell them other things; and as several +ladies entered the saloon at the moment, they gave him +some more money for the purpose of making a show, +and cried: ‘Take this! Take this, too!’ as they +made the money rattle on the table.</p> + +<p>“The boy pocketed it all, thanking them in a low +voice, with his surly mien, but with a look that was +for the first time smiling and affectionate. Then he +climbed into his berth, drew the curtain, and lay quiet, +thinking over his affairs. With this money he would +be able to purchase some good food on board, after +having suffered for lack of bread for two years; he +could buy a jacket as soon as he landed in Genoa, +after having gone about clad in rags for two years; +and he could also, by carrying it home, insure for +himself from his father and mother a more humane +reception than would have fallen to his lot if he had +arrived with empty pockets. This money was a little +fortune for him; and he was taking comfort out of +this thought behind the curtain of his berth, while the +three travellers chatted away, as they sat round the +dining-table in the second-class saloon. They were +drinking and discussing their travels and the countries +which they had seen; and from one topic to another +they began to discuss Italy. One of them began to +complain of the inns, another of the railways, and +then, growing warmer, they all began to speak evil +of everything. One would have preferred a trip in +Lapland; another declared that he had found nothing +but swindlers and brigands in Italy; the third said +that Italian officials do not know how to read.</p> + +<p>“‘It’s an ignorant nation,’ repeated the first. ‘A +filthy nation,’ added the second. ‘Ro—’ exclaimed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +the third, meaning to say ‘robbers’; but he was not +allowed to finish the word: a tempest of soldi and +half-lire descended upon their heads and shoulders, +and leaped upon the table and the floor with a demoniacal +noise. All three sprang up in a rage, looked up, +and received another handful of coppers in their faces.</p> + +<p>“‘Take back your soldi!’ said the lad, disdainfully, +thrusting his head between the curtains of his berth; +‘I do not accept alms from those who insult my +country.’”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE CHIMNEY-SWEEP.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +November 1st.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Yesterday afternoon I went to the girls’ school building, +near ours, to give the story of the boy from +Padua to Silvia’s teacher, who wished to read it. +There are seven hundred girls there. Just as I arrived, +they began to come out, all greatly rejoiced at +the holiday of All Saints and All Souls; and here is a +beautiful thing that I saw: Opposite the door of the +school, on the other side of the street, stood a very +small chimney-sweep, his face entirely black, with his +sack and scraper, with one arm resting against the +wall, and his head supported on his arm, weeping +copiously and sobbing. Two or three of the girls of +the second grade approached him and said, “What is +the matter, that you weep like this?” But he made no +reply, and went on crying.</p> + +<p>“Come, tell us what is the matter with you and why +you are crying,” the girls repeated. And then he +raised his face from his arm,—a baby face,—and +said through his tears that he had been to several +houses to sweep the chimneys, and had earned thirty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +soldi, and that he had lost them, that they had slipped +through a hole in his pocket,—and he showed the +hole,—and he did not dare to return home without +the money.</p> + +<p>“The master will beat me,” he said, sobbing; and +again dropped his head upon his arm, like one in +despair. The children stood and stared at him very +seriously. In the meantime, other girls, large and +small, poor girls and girls of the upper classes, with +their portfolios under their arms, had come up; and +one large girl, who had a blue feather in her hat, pulled +two soldi from her pocket, and said:—</p> + +<p>“I have only two soldi; let us make a collection.”</p> + +<p>“I have two soldi, also,” said another girl, dressed +in red; “we shall certainly find thirty soldi among the +whole of us”; and then they began to call out:—</p> + +<p>“Amalia! Luigia! Annina!—A soldo. Who has +any soldi? Bring your soldi here!”</p> + +<p>Several had soldi to buy flowers or copy-books, and +they brought them; some of the smaller girls gave +centesimi; the one with the blue feather collected all, +and counted them in a loud voice:—</p> + +<p>“Eight, ten, fifteen!” But more was needed. +Then one larger than any of them, who seemed to +be an assistant mistress, made her appearance, and +gave half a lira; and all made much of her. Five +soldi were still lacking.</p> + +<p>“The girls of the fourth class are coming; they will +have it,” said one girl. The members of the fourth +class came, and the soldi showered down. All hurried +forward eagerly; and it was beautiful to see that +poor chimney-sweep in the midst of all those many-colored +dresses, of all that whirl of feathers, ribbons,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +and curls. The thirty soldi were already obtained, +and more kept pouring in; and the very smallest who +had no money made their way among the big girls, +and offered their bunches of flowers, for the sake of +giving something. All at once the portress made her +appearance, screaming:—</p> + +<p>“The Signora Directress!” The girls made their +escape in all directions, like a flock of sparrows; and +then the little chimney-sweep was visible, alone, in the +middle of the street, wiping his eyes in perfect content, +with his hands full of money, and the button-holes +of his jacket, his pockets, his hat, were full of +flowers; and there were even flowers on the ground at +his feet.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE DAY OF THE DEAD.</h3> + +<p class="title">(<i>All-Souls-Day.</i>)</p> + +<p class="dat"> +November 2d.<br /> +</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p>This day is consecrated to the commemoration of the +dead. Do you know, Enrico, that all you boys should, on +this day, devote a thought to those who are dead? To those +who have died for you,—for boys and little children. How +many have died, and how many are dying continually! +Have you ever reflected how many fathers have worn out +their lives in toil? how many mothers have descended to the +grave before their time, exhausted by the privations to which +they have condemned themselves for the sake of sustaining +their children? Do you know how many men have planted +a knife in their hearts in despair at beholding their children +in misery? how many women have drowned themselves or +have died of sorrow, or have gone mad, through having lost +a child? Think of all these dead on this day, Enrico. Think +of how many schoolmistresses have died young, have pined +away through the fatigues of the school, through love of the +children, from whom they had not the heart to tear themselves<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +away; think of the doctors who have perished of +contagious diseases, having courageously sacrificed themselves +to cure the children; think of all those who in +shipwrecks, in conflagrations, in famines, in moments of +supreme danger, have yielded to infancy the last morsel of +bread, the last place of safety, the last rope of escape from +the flames, to expire content with their sacrifice, since they +preserved the life of a little innocent. Such dead as these +are innumerable, Enrico; every graveyard contains hundreds +of these sainted beings, who, if they could rise for a +moment from their graves, would cry the name of a child to +whom they sacrificed the pleasures of youth, the peace of old +age, their affections, their intelligence, their life: wives of +twenty, men in the flower of their strength, octogenarians, +youths,—heroic and obscure martyrs of infancy,—so grand +and so noble, that the earth does not produce as many flowers +as should strew their graves. To such a degree are ye loved, +O children! Think to-day on those dead with gratitude, +and you will be kinder and more affectionate to all those +who love you, and who toil for you, my dear, fortunate son, +who, on the day of the dead, have, as yet, no one to grieve +for.</p> + +<p class="sig"> +Thy Mother.<br /> +</p> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="NOVEMBER" id="NOVEMBER"></a>NOVEMBER.</h2> + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<h3>MY FRIEND GARRONE.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Friday, 4th.<br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> had been but two days of vacation, yet it +seemed to me as though I had been a long time +without seeing Garrone. The more I know him, the +better I like him; and so it is with all the rest, except +with the overbearing, who have nothing to say to him, +because he does not permit them to exhibit their oppression. +Every time that a big boy raises his hand +against a little one, the little one shouts, “Garrone!” +and the big one stops striking him. His father is an +engine-driver on the railway; he has begun school late, +because he was ill for two years. He is the tallest +and the strongest of the class; he lifts a bench with +one hand; he is always eating; and he is good. Whatever +he is asked for,—a pencil, rubber, paper, or penknife,—he +lends or gives it; and he neither talks nor +laughs in school: he always sits perfectly motionless +on a bench that is too narrow for him, with his spine +curved forward, and his big head between his shoulders; +and when I look at him, he smiles at me with his eyes +half closed, as much as to say, “Well, Enrico, are we +friends?” He makes me laugh, because, tall and +broad as he is, he has a jacket, trousers, and sleeves +which are too small for him, and too short; a cap which +will not stay on his head; a threadbare cloak; coarse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +shoes; and a necktie which is always twisted into a cord. +Dear Garrone! it needs but one glance in thy face to +inspire love for thee. All the little boys would like to +be near his bench. He knows arithmetic well. He +carries his books bound together with a strap of red +leather. He has a knife, with a mother-of-pearl handle, +which he found in the field for military manœuvres, +last year, and one day he cut his finger to the +bone; but no one in school envies him it, and no one +breathes a word about it at home, for fear of alarming +his parents. He lets us say anything to him in jest, +and he never takes it ill; but woe to any one who says +to him, “That is not true,” when he affirms a thing: +then fire flashes from his eyes, and he hammers down +blows enough to split the bench. Saturday morning he +gave a soldo to one of the upper first class, who was +crying in the middle of the street, because his own had +been taken from him, and he could not buy his copy-book. +For the last three days he has been working +over a letter of eight pages, with pen ornaments on +the margins, for the saint’s day of his mother, who +often comes to get him, and who, like himself, is tall +and large and sympathetic. The master is always +glancing at him, and every time that he passes near +him he taps him on the neck with his hand, as though +he were a good, peaceable young bull. I am very fond +of him. I am happy when I press his big hand, which +seems to be the hand of a man, in mine. I am +almost certain that he would risk his life to save that +of a comrade; that he would allow himself to be killed +in his defence, so clearly can I read his eyes; and although +he always seems to be grumbling with that big +voice of his, one feels that it is a voice that comes from +a gentle heart.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE CHARCOAL-MAN AND THE GENTLEMAN.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Monday, 7th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Garrone would certainly never have uttered the +words which Carlo Nobis spoke yesterday morning to +Betti. Carlo Nobis is proud, because his father is a +great gentleman; a tall gentleman, with a black beard, +and very serious, who accompanies his son to school +nearly every day. Yesterday morning Nobis quarrelled +with Betti, one of the smallest boys, and the son +of a charcoal-man, and not knowing what retort to +make, because he was in the wrong, said to him vehemently, +“Your father is a tattered beggar!” Betti +reddened up to his very hair, and said nothing, but the +tears came to his eyes; and when he returned home, +he repeated the words to his father; so the charcoal-dealer, +a little man, who was black all over, made his +appearance at the afternoon session, leading his boy +by the hand, in order to complain to the master. While +he was making his complaint, and every one was silent, +the father of Nobis, who was taking off his son’s coat +at the entrance, as usual, entered on hearing his name +pronounced, and demanded an explanation.</p> + +<p>“This workman has come,” said the master, “to +complain that your son Carlo said to his boy, ‘Your +father is a tattered beggar.’”</p> + +<p>Nobis’s father frowned and reddened slightly. Then +he asked his son, “Did you say that?”</p> + +<p>His son, who was standing in the middle of the +school, with his head hanging, in front of little Betti, +made no reply.</p> + +<p>Then his father grasped him by one arm and pushed +him forward, facing Betti, so that they nearly touched, +and said to him, “Beg his pardon.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>The charcoal-man tried to interpose, saying, “No, +no!” but the gentleman paid no heed to him, and repeated +to his son, “Beg his pardon. Repeat my +words. ‘I beg your pardon for the insulting, foolish, +and ignoble words which I uttered against your father, +whose hand my father would feel himself honored to +press.’”</p> + +<p>The charcoal-man made a resolute gesture, as though +to say, “I will not allow it.” The gentleman did not +second him, and his son said slowly, in a very thread of +a voice, without raising his eyes from the ground, “I +beg your pardon—for the insulting—foolish—ignoble—words +which I uttered against your father, +whose hand my father—would feel himself honored—to +press.”</p> + +<p>Then the gentleman offered his hand to the charcoal-man, +who shook it vigorously, and then, with a sudden +push, he thrust his son into the arms of Carlo Nobis.</p> + +<p>“Do me the favor to place them next each other,” +said the gentleman to the master. The master put +Betti on Nobis’s bench. When they were seated, the +father of Nobis bowed and went away.</p> + +<p>The charcoal-man remained standing there in thought +for several moments, gazing at the two boys side by +side; then he approached the bench, and fixed upon +Nobis a look expressive of affection and regret, as +though he were desirous of saying something to him, +but he did not say anything; he stretched out his hand +to bestow a caress upon him, but he did not dare, and +merely stroked his brow with his large fingers. Then +he made his way to the door, and turning round for +one last look, he disappeared.</p> + +<p>“Fix what you have just seen firmly in your minds, +boys,” said the master; “this is the finest lesson of +the year.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 412px;"> +<img src="images/charcoal.jpg" width="412" height="600" alt="THE CHARCOAL MAN AND THE GENTLEMAN." title="THE CHARCOAL MAN AND THE GENTLEMAN." /> +<p class="caption">THE CHARCOAL MAN AND THE GENTLEMAN.<br /></p> +<p class="sig"><a href="images/charcoall.jpg">View larger image.</a></p> +</div> + + +<hr /> + + +<h3>MY BROTHER’S SCHOOLMISTRESS.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Thursday, 10th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>The son of the charcoal-man had been a pupil of +that schoolmistress Delcati who had come to see my +brother when he was ill, and who had made us laugh +by telling us how, two years ago, the mother of this +boy had brought to her house a big apronful of charcoal, +out of gratitude for her having given the medal +to her son; and the poor woman had persisted, and +had not been willing to carry the coal home again, and +had wept when she was obliged to go away with her +apron quite full. And she told us, also, of another +good woman, who had brought her a very heavy bunch +of flowers, inside of which there was a little hoard of +soldi. We had been greatly diverted in listening to +her, and so my brother had swallowed his medicine, +which he had not been willing to do before. How +much patience is necessary with those boys of the +lower first, all toothless, like old men, who cannot pronounce +their r’s and s’s; and one coughs, and another +has the nosebleed, and another loses his shoes under +the bench, and another bellows because he has pricked +himself with his pen, and another one cries because he +has bought copy-book No. 2 instead of No. 1. Fifty +in a class, who know nothing, with those flabby little +hands, and all of them must be taught to write; they +carry in their pockets bits of licorice, buttons, phial +corks, pounded brick,—all sorts of little things, and +the teacher has to search them; but they conceal these +objects even in their shoes. And they are not attentive: +a fly enters through the window, and throws +them all into confusion; and in summer they bring<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +grass into school, and horn-bugs, which fly round in +circles or fall into the inkstand, and then streak the +copy-books all over with ink. The schoolmistress has +to play mother to all of them, to help them dress themselves, +bandage up their pricked fingers, pick up their +caps when they drop them, watch to see that they do +not exchange coats, and that they do not indulge in +cat-calls and shrieks. Poor schoolmistresses! And +then the mothers come to complain: “How comes it, +signorina, that my boy has lost his pen? How does it +happen that mine learns nothing? Why is not my boy +mentioned honorably, when he knows so much? Why +don’t you have that nail which tore my Piero’s trousers, +taken out of the bench?”</p> + +<p>Sometimes my brother’s teacher gets into a rage +with the boys; and when she can resist no longer, she +bites her finger, to keep herself from dealing a blow; +she loses patience, and then she repents, and caresses +the child whom she has scolded; she sends a little +rogue out of school, and then swallows her tears, and +flies into a rage with parents who make the little ones +fast by way of punishment. Schoolmistress Delcati +is young and tall, well-dressed, brown of complexion, +and restless; she does everything vivaciously, as though +on springs, is affected by a mere trifle, and at such +times speaks with great tenderness.</p> + +<p>“But the children become attached to you, surely,” +my mother said to her.</p> + +<p>“Many do,” she replied; “but at the end of the year +the majority of them pay no further heed to us. When +they are with the masters, they are almost ashamed of +having been with us—with a woman teacher. After +two years of cares, after having loved a child so much, +it makes us feel sad to part from him; but we say to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +ourselves, ‘Oh, I am sure of that one; he is fond of +me.’ But the vacation over, he comes back to school. +I run to meet him; ‘Oh, my child, my child!’ And +he turns his head away.” Here the teacher interrupted +herself. “But you will not do so, little one?” she +said, raising her humid eyes, and kissing my brother. +“You will not turn aside your head, will you? You +will not deny your poor friend?”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>MY MOTHER.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Thursday, November 10th.<br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>In the presence of your brother’s teacher you failed in +respect to your mother! Let this never happen again, my +Enrico, never again! Your irreverent word pierced my +heart like a point of steel. I thought of your mother when, +years ago, she bent the whole of one night over your little +bed, measuring your breathing, weeping blood in her anguish, +and with her teeth chattering with terror, because she +thought that she had lost you, and I feared that she would +lose her reason; and at this thought I felt a sentiment of +horror at you. You, to offend your mother! your mother, +who would give a year of happiness to spare you one hour of +pain, who would beg for you, who would allow herself to be +killed to save your life! Listen, Enrico. Fix this thought +well in your mind. Reflect that you are destined to experience +many terrible days in the course of your life: the most +terrible will be that on which you lose your mother. A +thousand times, Enrico, after you are a man, strong, and inured +to all fates, you will invoke her, oppressed with an intense +desire to hear her voice, if but for a moment, and to see +once more her open arms, into which you can throw yourself +sobbing, like a poor child bereft of comfort and protection. +How you will then recall every bitterness that you have +caused her, and with what remorse you will pay for all, unhappy +wretch! Hope for no peace in your life, if you have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> +caused your mother grief. You will repent, you will beg her +forgiveness, you will venerate her memory—in vain; conscience +will give you no rest; that sweet and gentle image +will always wear for you an expression of sadness and of reproach +which will put your soul to torture. Oh, Enrico, beware; +this is the most sacred of human affections; unhappy +he who tramples it under foot. The assassin who respects +his mother has still something honest and noble in his heart; +the most glorious of men who grieves and offends her is but a +vile creature. Never again let a harsh word issue from your +lips, for the being who gave you life. And if one should +ever escape you, let it not be the fear of your father, but let +it be the impulse of your soul, which casts you at her feet, +to beseech her that she will cancel from your brow, with the +kiss of forgiveness, the stain of ingratitude. I love you, my +son; you are the dearest hope of my life; but I would rather +see you dead than ungrateful to your mother. Go away, for +a little space; offer me no more of your caresses; I should +not be able to return them from my heart.</p> + +<p class="sig"> +Thy Father.<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>MY COMPANION CORETTI.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Sunday, 13th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>My father forgave me; but I remained rather sad +and then my mother sent me, with the porter’s big +son, to take a walk on the Corso. Half-way down the +Corso, as we were passing a cart which was standing +in front of a shop, I heard some one call me by name: +I turned round; it was Coretti, my schoolmate, with +chocolate-colored clothes and his catskin cap, all in a +perspiration, but merry, with a big load of wood on +his shoulders. A man who was standing in the cart +was handing him an armful of wood at a time, which +he took and carried into his father’s shop, where he +piled it up in the greatest haste.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p> + +<p>“What are you doing, Coretti?” I asked him.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you see?” he answered, reaching out his +arms to receive the load; “I am reviewing my +lesson.”</p> + +<p>I laughed; but he seemed to be serious, and, having +grasped the armful of wood, he began to repeat as he +ran, “<i>The conjugation of the verb—consists in its variations +according to number—according to number and +person—</i>”</p> + +<p>And then, throwing down the wood and piling it, +“<i>according to the time—according to the time to which +the action refers.</i>”</p> + +<p>And turning to the cart for another armful, “<i>according +to the mode in which the action is enunciated.</i>”</p> + +<p>It was our grammar lesson for the following day. +“What would you have me do?” he said. “I am +putting my time to use. My father has gone off with +the man on business; my mother is ill. It falls to me +to do the unloading. In the meantime, I am going +over my grammar lesson. It is a difficult lesson to-day; +I cannot succeed in getting it into my head.—My +father said that he would be here at seven o’clock +to give you your money,” he said to the man with the +cart.</p> + +<p>The cart drove off. “Come into the shop a minute,” +Coretti said to me. I went in. It was a large apartment, +full of piles of wood and fagots, with a steelyard +on one side.</p> + +<p>“This is a busy day, I can assure you,” resumed +Coretti; “I have to do my work by fits and starts. I +was writing my phrases, when some customers came +in. I went to writing again, and behold, that cart +arrived. I have already made two trips to the wood +market in the Piazza Venezia this morning. My legs<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +are so tired that I cannot stand, and my hands are all +swollen. I should be in a pretty pickle if I had to +draw!” And as he spoke he set about sweeping up +the dry leaves and the straw which covered the brick-paved +floor.</p> + +<p>“But where do you do your work, Coretti?” I +inquired.</p> + +<p>“Not here, certainly,” he replied. “Come and +see”; and he led me into a little room behind the +shop, which serves as a kitchen and dining-room, with +a table in one corner, on which there were books and +copy-books, and work which had been begun. “Here +it is,” he said; “I left the second answer unfinished: +<i>with which shoes are made, and belts</i>. Now I will add, +<i>and valises</i>.” And, taking his pen, he began to write +in his fine hand.</p> + +<p>“Is there any one here?” sounded a call from the +shop at that moment. It was a woman who had come +to buy some little fagots.</p> + +<p>“Here I am!” replied Coretti; and he sprang out, +weighed the fagots, took the money, ran to a corner to +enter the sale in a shabby old account-book, and returned +to his work, saying, “Let’s see if I can finish +that sentence.” And he wrote, <i>travelling-bags, and +knapsacks for soldiers</i>. “Oh, my poor coffee is boiling +over!” he exclaimed, and ran to the stove to take the +coffee-pot from the fire. “It is coffee for mamma,” +he said; “I had to learn how to make it. Wait +a while, and we will carry it to her; you’ll see what +pleasure it will give her. She has been in bed a whole +week.—Conjugation of the verb! I always scald my +fingers with this coffee-pot. What is there that I can +add after the soldiers’ knapsacks? Something more +is needed, and I can think of nothing. Come to +mamma.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>He opened a door, and we entered another small +room: there Coretti’s mother lay in a big bed, with a +white kerchief wound round her head.</p> + +<p>“Ah, brave little master!” said the woman to me; +“you have come to visit the sick, have you not?”</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Coretti was arranging the pillows behind +his mother’s back, readjusting the bedclothes, +brightening up the fire, and driving the cat off the +chest of drawers.</p> + +<p>“Do you want anything else, mamma?” he asked, +as he took the cup from her. “Have you taken the +two spoonfuls of syrup? When it is all gone, I will +make a trip to the apothecary’s. The wood is unloaded. +At four o’clock I will put the meat on the +stove, as you told me; and when the butter-woman +passes, I will give her those eight soldi. Everything +will go on well; so don’t give it a thought.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks, my son!” replied the woman. “Go, my +poor boy!—he thinks of everything.”</p> + +<p>She insisted that I should take a lump of sugar; and +then Coretti showed me a little picture,—the photograph +portrait of his father dressed as a soldier, with +the medal for bravery which he had won in 1866, +in the troop of Prince Umberto: he had the same face +as his son, with the same vivacious eyes and his merry +smile.</p> + +<p>We went back to the kitchen. “I have found the +thing,” said Coretti; and he added on his copy-book, +<i>horse-trappings are also made of it</i>. “The rest I will +do this evening; I shall sit up later. How happy you +are, to have time to study and to go to walk, too!” +And still gay and active, he re-entered the shop, and +began to place pieces of wood on the horse and to saw +them, saying: “This is gymnastics; it is quite differ<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>ent +from the <i>throw your arms forwards</i>. I want my +father to find all this wood sawed when he gets home; +how glad he will be! The worst part of it is that after +sawing I make T’s and L’s which look like snakes, so +the teacher says. What am I to do? I will tell him +that I have to move my arms about. The important +thing is to have mamma get well quickly. She is +better to-day, thank Heaven! I will study my grammar +to-morrow morning at cock-crow. Oh, here’s the +cart with logs! To work!”</p> + +<p>A small cart laden with logs halted in front of the +shop. Coretti ran out to speak to the man, then returned: +“I cannot keep your company any longer +now,” he said; “farewell until to-morrow. You did +right to come and hunt me up. A pleasant walk to +you! happy fellow!”</p> + +<p>And pressing my hand, he ran to take the first log, +and began once more to trot back and forth between +the cart and the shop, with a face as fresh as a rose +beneath his catskin cap, and so alert that it was a +pleasure to see him.</p> + +<p>“Happy fellow!” he had said to me. Ah, no, Coretti, +no; you are the happier, because you study and +work too; because you are of use to your father and +your mother; because you are better—a hundred +times better—and more courageous than I, my dear +schoolmate.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE HEAD-MASTER.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Friday, 18th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Coretti was pleased this morning, because his master +of the second class, Coatti, a big man, with a huge head +of curly hair, a great black beard, big dark eyes, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +a voice like a cannon, had come to assist in the work +of the monthly examination. He is always threatening +the boys that he will break them in pieces and carry +them by the nape of the neck to the quæstor, and he +makes all sorts of frightful faces; but he never punishes +any one, but always smiles the while behind his +beard, so that no one can see it. There are eight masters +in all, including Coatti, and a little, beardless +assistant, who looks like a boy. There is one master +of the fourth class, who is lame and always wrapped up +in a big woollen scarf, and who is always suffering from +pains which he contracted when he was a teacher in the +country, in a damp school, where the walls were dripping +with moisture. Another of the teachers of the fourth +is old and perfectly white-haired, and has been a +teacher of the blind. There is one well-dressed master, +with eye-glasses, and a blond mustache, who is called +the <i>little lawyer</i>, because, while he was teaching, he +studied law and took his diploma; and he is also making +a book to teach how to write letters. On the other +hand, the one who teaches gymnastics is of a soldierly +type, and was with Garibaldi, and has on his neck a +scar from a sabre wound received at the battle of +Milazzo. Then there is the head-master, who is tall +and bald, and wears gold spectacles, with a gray beard +that flows down upon his breast; he dresses entirely in +black, and is always buttoned up to the chin. He is so +kind to the boys, that when they enter the director’s +room, all in a tremble, because they have been summoned +to receive a reproof, he does not scold them, but +takes them by the hand, and tells them so many reasons +why they ought not to behave so, and why they should +be sorry, and promise to be good, and he speaks in such +a kind manner, and in so gentle a voice, that they all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +come out with red eyes, more confused than if they had +been punished. Poor head-master! he is always the +first at his post in the morning, waiting for the scholars +and lending an ear to the parents; and when the other +masters are already on their way home, he is still hovering +about the school, and looking out that the boys do +not get under the carriage-wheels, or hang about the +streets to stand on their heads, or fill their bags with +sand or stones; and the moment he makes his appearance +at a corner, so tall and black, flocks of boys +scamper off in all directions, abandoning their games of +coppers and marbles, and he threatens them from afar +with his forefinger, with his sad and loving air. No +one has ever seen him smile, my mother says, since the +death of his son, who was a volunteer in the army: he +always keeps the latter’s portrait before his eyes, on a +little table in the head-master’s room. He wanted to go +away after this misfortune; he prepared his application +for retirement to the Municipal Council, and kept it +always on his table, putting off sending it from day to +day, because it grieved him to leave the boys. But the +other day he seemed undecided; and my father, who +was in the director’s room with him, was just saying to +him, “What a shame it is that you are going away, +Signor Director!” when a man entered for the purpose +of inscribing the name of a boy who was to be transferred +from another schoolhouse to ours, because he +had changed his residence. At the sight of this boy, +the head-master made a gesture of astonishment, +gazed at him for a while, gazed at the portrait that he +keeps on his little table, and then stared at the boy +again, as he drew him between his knees, and made him +hold up his head. This boy resembled his dead son. +The head-master said, “It is all right,” wrote down<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +his name, dismissed the father and son, and remained +absorbed in thought. “What a pity that you are going +away!” repeated my father. And then the head-master +took up his application for retirement, tore it in +two, and said, “I shall remain.”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE SOLDIERS.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Tuesday, 22d.<br /> +</p> + +<p>His son had been a volunteer in the army when he +died: this is the reason why the head-master always +goes to the Corso to see the soldiers pass, when we +come out of school. Yesterday a regiment of infantry +was passing, and fifty boys began to dance around the +band, singing and beating time with their rulers on their +bags and portfolios. We were standing in a group on +the sidewalk, watching them: Garrone, squeezed into +his clothes, which were too tight for him, was biting at +a large piece of bread; Votini, the well-dressed boy, +who always wears Florence plush; Precossi, the son of +the blacksmith, with his father’s jacket; and the Calabrian; +and the “little mason”; and Crossi, with his +red head; and Franti, with his bold face; and Robetti, +too, the son of the artillery captain, the boy who saved +the child from the omnibus, and who now walks on +crutches. Franti burst into a derisive laugh, in the +face of a soldier who was limping. But all at once he +felt a man’s hand on his shoulder: he turned round; it +was the head-master. “Take care,” said the master +to him; “jeering at a soldier when he is in the ranks, +when he can neither avenge himself nor reply, is like +insulting a man who is bound: it is baseness.”</p> + +<p>Franti disappeared. The soldiers were marching by +fours, all perspiring and covered with dust, and their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +guns were gleaming in the sun. The head-master +said:—</p> + +<p>“You ought to feel kindly towards soldiers, boys. +They are our defenders, who would go to be killed for +our sakes, if a foreign army were to menace our country +to-morrow. They are boys too; they are not many +years older than you; and they, too, go to school; and +there are poor men and gentlemen among them, just as +there are among you, and they come from every part of +Italy. See if you cannot recognize them by their faces; +Sicilians are passing, and Sardinians, and Neapolitans, +and Lombards. This is an old regiment, one of those +which fought in 1848. They are not the same soldiers, +but the flag is still the same. How many have already +died for our country around that banner twenty years +before you were born!”</p> + +<p>“Here it is!” said Garrone. And in fact, not far +off, the flag was visible, advancing, above the heads of +the soldiers.</p> + +<p>“Do one thing, my sons,” said the head-master; +“make your scholar’s salute, with your hand to your +brow, when the tricolor passes.”</p> + +<p>The flag, borne by an officer, passed before us, all +tattered and faded, and with the medals attached to the +staff. We put our hands to our foreheads, all together. +The officer looked at us with a smile, and returned our +salute with his hand.</p> + +<p>“Bravi, boys!” said some one behind us. We +turned to look; it was an old man who wore in his button-hole +the blue ribbon of the Crimean campaign—a +pensioned officer. “Bravi!” he said; “you have done +a fine deed.”</p> + +<p>In the meantime, the band of the regiment had made +a turn at the end of the Corso, surrounded by a throng<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +of boys, and a hundred merry shouts accompanied the +blasts of the trumpets, like a war-song.</p> + +<p>“Bravi!” repeated the old officer, as he gazed upon +us; “he who respects the flag when he is little will +know how to defend it when he is grown up.”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>NELLI’S PROTECTOR.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Wednesday, 23d.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Nelli, too, poor little hunchback! was looking at the +soldiers yesterday, but with an air as though he were +thinking, “I can never be a soldier!” He is good, +and he studies; but he is so puny and wan, and he +breathes with difficulty. He always wears a long apron +of shining black cloth. His mother is a little blond +woman who dresses in black, and always comes to get +him at the end of school, so that he may not come out +in the confusion with the others, and she caresses him. +At first many of the boys ridiculed him, and thumped +him on the back with their bags, because he is so unfortunate +as to be a hunchback; but he never offered +any resistance, and never said anything to his mother, +in order not to give her the pain of knowing that her +son was the laughing-stock of his companions: they +derided him, and he held his peace and wept, with his +head laid against the bench.</p> + +<p>But one morning Garrone jumped up and said, +“The first person who touches Nelli will get such a +box on the ear from me that he will spin round three +times!”</p> + +<p>Franti paid no attention to him; the box on the ear +was delivered: the fellow spun round three times, and +from that time forth no one ever touched Nelli again.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +The master placed Garrone near him, on the same +bench. They have become friends. Nelli has grown +very fond of Garrone. As soon as he enters the +schoolroom he looks to see if Garrone is there. He +never goes away without saying, “Good by, Garrone,” +and Garrone does the same with him.</p> + +<p>When Nelli drops a pen or a book under the bench, +Garrone stoops quickly, to prevent his stooping and +tiring himself, and hands him his book or his pen, and +then he helps him to put his things in his bag and to +twist himself into his coat. For this Nelli loves him, +and gazes at him constantly; and when the master +praises Garrone he is pleased, as though he had been +praised himself. Nelli must at last have told his +mother all about the ridicule of the early days, and +what they made him suffer; and about the comrade +who defended him, and how he had grown fond of the +latter; for this is what happened this morning. The +master had sent me to carry to the director, half an +hour before the close of school, a programme of the +lesson, and I entered the office at the same moment +with a small blond woman dressed in black, the +mother of Nelli, who said, “Signor Director, is there +in the class with my son a boy named Garrone?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” replied the head-master.</p> + +<p>“Will you have the goodness to let him come here +for a moment, as I have a word to say to him?”</p> + +<p>The head-master called the beadle and sent him to +the school, and after a minute Garrone appeared on the +threshold, with his big, close-cropped head, in perfect +amazement. No sooner did she catch sight of him +than the woman flew to meet him, threw her arms on +his shoulders, and kissed him a great many times on +the head, saying:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>“You are Garrone, the friend of my little son, the +protector of my poor child; it is you, my dear, brave +boy; it is you!” Then she searched hastily in all her +pockets, and in her purse, and finding nothing, she detached +a chain from her neck, with a small cross, and +put it on Garrone’s neck, underneath his necktie, and +said to him:—</p> + +<p>“Take it! wear it in memory of me, my dear boy; +in memory of Nelli’s mother, who thanks and blesses +you.”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE HEAD OF THE CLASS.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Friday, 25th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Garrone attracts the love of all; Derossi, the admiration. +He has taken the first medal; he will always +be the first, and this year also; no one can compete +with him; all recognize his superiority in all points. +He is the first in arithmetic, in grammar, in composition, +in drawing; he understands everything on the +instant; he has a marvellous memory; he succeeds in +everything without effort; it seems as though study +were play to him. The teacher said to him yesterday:—</p> + +<p>“You have received great gifts from God; all you +have to do is not to squander them.” He is, moreover, +tall and handsome, with a great crown of golden curls; +he is so nimble that he can leap over a bench by resting +one hand on it; and he already understands fencing. +He is twelve years old, and the son of a merchant; +he is always dressed in blue, with gilt buttons; he is +always lively, merry, gracious to all, and helps all he +can in examinations; and no one has ever dared to do +anything disagreeable to him, or to say a rough word<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +to him. Nobis and Franti alone look askance at him, +and Votini darts envy from his eyes; but he does not +even perceive it. All smile at him, and take his hand +or his arm, when he goes about, in his graceful way, to +collect the work. He gives away illustrated papers, +drawings, everything that is given him at home; he +has made a little geographical chart of Calabria for the +Calabrian lad; and he gives everything with a smile, +without paying any heed to it, like a grand gentleman, +and without favoritism for any one. It is impossible +not to envy him, not to feel smaller than he in everything. +Ah! I, too, envy him, like Votini. And I feel +a bitterness, almost a certain scorn, for him, sometimes, +when I am striving to accomplish my work at home, +and think that he has already finished his, at this same +moment, extremely well, and without fatigue. But +then, when I return to school, and behold him so handsome, +so smiling and triumphant, and hear how frankly +and confidently he replies to the master’s questions, +and how courteous he is, and how the others all like +him, then all bitterness, all scorn, departs from my +heart, and I am ashamed of having experienced these +sentiments. I should like to be always near him at +such times; I should like to be able to do all my +school tasks with him: his presence, his voice, inspire +me with courage, with a will to work, with cheerfulness +and pleasure.</p> + +<p>The teacher has given him the monthly story, which +will be read to-morrow, to copy,—<i>The Little Vidette of +Lombardy</i>. He copied it this morning, and was so +much affected by that heroic deed, that his face was all +aflame, his eyes humid, and his lips trembling; and I +gazed at him: how handsome and noble he was! With +what pleasure would I not have said frankly to his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +face: “Derossi, you are worth more than I in everything! +You are a man in comparison with me! I +respect you and I admire you!”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE LITTLE VIDETTE OF LOMBARDY.</h3> + +<p class="title">(<i>Monthly Story.</i>)</p> + +<p class="dat"> +Saturday, 26th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>In 1859, during the war for the liberation of Lombardy, +a few days after the battle of Solfarino and San +Martino, won by the French and Italians over the Austrians, +on a beautiful morning in the month of June, a +little band of cavalry of Saluzzo was proceeding at a +slow pace along a retired path, in the direction of the +enemy, and exploring the country attentively. The +troop was commanded by an officer and a sergeant, +and all were gazing into the distance ahead of them, +with eyes fixed, silent, and prepared at any moment to +see the uniforms of the enemy’s advance-posts gleam +white before them through the trees. In this order they +arrived at a rustic cabin, surrounded by ash-trees, in +front of which stood a solitary boy, about twelve years +old, who was removing the bark from a small branch +with a knife, in order to make himself a stick of it. +From one window of the little house floated a large tricolored +flag; there was no one inside: the peasants +had fled, after hanging out the flag, for fear of the +Austrians. As soon as the lad saw the cavalry, he +flung aside his stick and raised his cap. He was a +handsome boy, with a bold face and large blue eyes +and long golden hair: he was in his shirt-sleeves and +his breast was bare.</p> + +<p>“What are you doing here?” the officer asked him,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +reining in his horse. “Why did you not flee with +your family?”</p> + +<p>“I have no family,” replied the boy. “I am a +foundling. I do a little work for everybody. I remained +here to see the war.”</p> + +<p>“Have you seen any Austrians pass?”</p> + +<p>“No; not for these three days.”</p> + +<p>The officer paused a while in thought; then he +leaped from his horse, and leaving his soldiers there, +with their faces turned towards the foe, he entered the +house and mounted to the roof. The house was +low; from the roof only a small tract of country was +visible. “It will be necessary to climb the trees,” +said the officer, and descended. Just in front of the +garden plot rose a very lofty and slender ash-tree, +which was rocking its crest in the azure. The officer +stood a brief space in thought, gazing now at the tree, +and again at the soldiers; then, all of a sudden, he +asked the lad:—</p> + +<p>“Is your sight good, you monkey?”</p> + +<p>“Mine?” replied the boy. “I can spy a young +sparrow a mile away.”</p> + +<p>“Are you good for a climb to the top of this tree?”</p> + +<p>“To the top of this tree? I? I’ll be up there in +half a minute.”</p> + +<p>“And will you be able to tell me what you see up +there—if there are Austrian soldiers in that direction, +clouds of dust, gleaming guns, horses?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly I shall.”</p> + +<p>“What do you demand for this service?”</p> + +<p>“What do I demand?” said the lad, smiling. +“Nothing. A fine thing, indeed! And then—if it +were for the <i>Germans</i>, I wouldn’t do it on any terms; +but for our men! I am a Lombard!”</p> + +<p>“Good! Then up with you.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“Wait a moment, until I take off my shoes.”</p> + +<p>He pulled off his shoes, tightened the girth of his +trousers, flung his cap on the grass, and clasped the +trunk of the ash.</p> + +<p>“Take care, now!” exclaimed the officer, making +a movement to hold him back, as though seized with a +sudden terror.</p> + +<p>The boy turned to look at him, with his handsome +blue eyes, as though interrogating him.</p> + +<p>“No matter,” said the officer; “up with you.”</p> + +<p>Up went the lad like a cat.</p> + +<p>“Keep watch ahead!” shouted the officer to the +soldiers.</p> + +<p>In a few moments the boy was at the top of the tree, +twined around the trunk, with his legs among the +leaves, but his body displayed to view, and the sun +beating down on his blond head, which seemed to be +of gold. The officer could hardly see him, so small +did he seem up there.</p> + +<p>“Look straight ahead and far away!” shouted the +officer.</p> + +<p>The lad, in order to see better, removed his right +hand from the tree, and shaded his eyes with it.</p> + +<p>“What do you see?” asked the officer.</p> + +<p>The boy inclined his head towards him, and making +a speaking-trumpet of his hand, replied, “Two men +on horseback, on the white road.”</p> + +<p>“At what distance from here?”</p> + +<p>“Half a mile.”</p> + +<p>“Are they moving?”</p> + +<p>“They are standing still.”</p> + +<p>“What else do you see?” asked the officer, after a +momentary silence. “Look to the right.” The boy +looked to the right.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then he said: “Near the cemetery, among the trees, +there is something glittering. It seems to be bayonets.”</p> + +<p>“Do you see men?”</p> + +<p>“No. They must be concealed in the grain.”</p> + +<p>At that moment a sharp whiz of a bullet passed +high up in the air, and died away in the distance, behind +the house.</p> + +<p>“Come down, my lad!” shouted the officer. “They +have seen you. I don’t want anything more. Come +down.”</p> + +<p>“I’m not afraid,” replied the boy.</p> + +<p>“Come down!” repeated the officer. “What else +do you see to the left?”</p> + +<p>“To the left?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, to the left.”</p> + +<p>The lad turned his head to the left: at that moment, +another whistle, more acute and lower than the +first, cut the air. The boy was thoroughly aroused. +“Deuce take them!” he exclaimed. “They actually +are aiming at me!” The bullet had passed at a short +distance from him.</p> + +<p>“Down!” shouted the officer, imperious and irritated.</p> + +<p>“I’ll come down presently,” replied the boy. “But +the tree shelters me. Don’t fear. You want to +know what there is on the left?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, on the left,” answered the officer; “but +come down.”</p> + +<p>“On the left,” shouted the lad, thrusting his body +out in that direction, “yonder, where there is a chapel, I +think I see—”</p> + +<p>A third fierce whistle passed through the air, and +almost instantaneously the boy was seen to descend,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +catching for a moment at the trunk and branches, and +then falling headlong with arms outspread.</p> + +<p>“Curse it!” exclaimed the officer, running up.</p> + +<p>The boy landed on the ground, upon his back, and +remained stretched out there, with arms outspread and +supine; a stream of blood flowed from his breast, on +the left. The sergeant and two soldiers leaped from +their horses; the officer bent over and opened his shirt: +the ball had entered his left lung. “He is dead!” +exclaimed the officer.</p> + +<p>“No, he still lives!” replied the sergeant.—“Ah, +poor boy! brave boy!” cried the officer. “Courage, +courage!” But while he was saying “courage,” +he was pressing his handkerchief on the wound. The +boy rolled his eyes wildly and dropped his head back. +He was dead. The officer turned pale and stood for a +moment gazing at him; then he laid him down carefully +on his cloak upon the grass; then rose and stood +looking at him; the sergeant and two soldiers also +stood motionless, gazing upon him: the rest were facing +in the direction of the enemy.</p> + +<p>“Poor boy!” repeated the officer. “Poor, brave +boy!”</p> + +<p>Then he approached the house, removed the tricolor +from the window, and spread it in guise of a +funeral pall over the little dead boy, leaving his face +uncovered. The sergeant collected the dead boy’s +shoes, cap, his little stick, and his knife, and placed +them beside him.</p> + +<p>They stood for a few moments longer in silence; +then the officer turned to the sergeant and said to him, +“We will send the ambulance for him: he died as a +soldier; the soldiers shall bury him.” Having said +this, he wafted a kiss with his hand to the dead boy,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +and shouted “To horse!” All sprang into the saddle, +the troop drew together and resumed its road.</p> + +<p>And a few hours later the little dead boy received +the honors of war.</p> + +<p>At sunset the whole line of the Italian advance-posts +marched forward towards the foe, and along the same +road which had been traversed in the morning by the +detachment of cavalry, there proceeded, in two files, +a heavy battalion of sharpshooters, who, a few days +before, had valiantly watered the hill of San Martino +with blood. The news of the boy’s death had already +spread among the soldiers before they left the encampment. +The path, flanked by a rivulet, ran a few paces +distant from the house. When the first officers of the +battalion caught sight of the little body stretched at the +foot of the ash-tree and covered with the tricolored +banner, they made the salute to it with their swords, +and one of them bent over the bank of the streamlet, +which was covered with flowers at that spot, plucked a +couple of blossoms and threw them on it. Then all the +sharpshooters, as they passed, plucked flowers and threw +them on the body. In a few minutes the boy was covered +with flowers, and officers and soldiers all saluted +him as they passed by: “Bravo, little Lombard!” +“Farewell, my lad!” “I salute thee, gold locks!” +“Hurrah!” “Glory!” “Farewell!” One officer +tossed him his medal for valor; another went and +kissed his brow. And flowers continued to rain down +on his bare feet, on his blood-stained breast, on his +golden head. And there he lay asleep on the grass, +enveloped in his flag, with a white and almost smiling +face, poor boy! as though he heard these salutes and +was glad that he had given his life for his Lombardy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE POOR.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Tuesday, 29th.<br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>To give one’s life for one’s country as the Lombard boy +did, is a great virtue; but you must not neglect the lesser +virtues, my son. This morning as you walked in front of +me, when we were returning from school, you passed near +a poor woman who was holding between her knees a thin, +pale child, and who asked alms of you. You looked at her +and gave her nothing, and yet you had some coppers in your +pocket. Listen, my son. Do not accustom yourself to pass +indifferently before misery which stretches out its hand to +you and far less before a mother who asks a copper for her +child. Reflect that the child may be hungry; think of the +agony of that poor woman. Picture to yourself the sob of +despair of your mother, if she were some day forced to say, +“Enrico, I cannot give you any bread even to-day!” When +I give a soldo to a beggar, and he says to me, “God preserve +your health, and the health of all belonging to you!” you +cannot understand the sweetness which these words produce +in my heart, the gratitude that I feel for that poor man. It +seems to me certain that such a good wish must keep one in +good health for a long time, and I return home content, and +think, “Oh, that poor man has returned to me very much +more than I gave him!” Well, let me sometimes feel that +good wish called forth, merited by you; draw a soldo from +your little purse now and then, and let it fall into the hand +of a blind man without means of subsistence, of a mother +without bread, of a child without a mother. The poor love +the alms of boys, because it does not humiliate them, and +because boys, who stand in need of everything, resemble +themselves: you see that there are always poor people +around the schoolhouses. The alms of a man is an act of +charity; but that of a child is at one and the same time an +act of charity and a caress—do you understand? It is as +though a soldo and a flower fell from your hand together. +Reflect that you lack nothing, and that they lack everything,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +that while you aspire to be happy, they are content simply +with not dying. Reflect, that it is a horror, in the midst of +so many palaces, along the streets thronged with carriages, +and children clad in velvet, that there should be women and +children who have nothing to eat. To have nothing to eat! +O God! Boys like you, as good as you, as intelligent as you, +who, in the midst of a great city, have nothing to eat, like +wild beasts lost in a desert! Oh, never again, Enrico, pass a +mother who is begging, without placing a soldo in her +hand!</p> + +<p class="sig"> +Thy Father.<br /> +</p></div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="DECEMBER" id="DECEMBER"></a>DECEMBER.</h2> + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<h3>THE TRADER.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Thursday, 1st.<br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">My</span> father wishes me to have some one of my companions +come to the house every holiday, or that I +should go to see one of them, in order that I may +gradually become friends with all of them. Sunday I +shall go to walk with Votini, the well-dressed boy who +is always polishing himself up, and who is so envious +of Derossi. In the meantime, Garoffi came to the +house to-day,—that long, lank boy, with the nose like +an owl’s beak, and small, knavish eyes, which seem to +be ferreting everywhere. He is the son of a grocer; +he is an eccentric fellow; he is always counting the +soldi that he has in his pocket; he reckons them on +his fingers very, very rapidly, and goes through some +process of multiplication without any tables; and he +hoards his money, and already has a book in the +Scholars’ Savings Bank. He never spends a soldo, I +am positive; and if he drops a centesimo under the +benches, he is capable of hunting for it for a week. +He does as magpies do, so Derossi says. Everything +that he finds—worn-out pens, postage-stamps that +have been used, pins, candle-ends—he picks up. He +has been collecting postage-stamps for more than two +years now; and he already has hundreds of them +from every country, in a large album, which he will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +sell to a bookseller later on, when he has got it quite +full. Meanwhile, the bookseller gives him his copy-books +gratis, because he takes a great many boys to +the shop. In school, he is always bartering; he effects +sales of little articles every day, and lotteries and +exchanges; then he regrets the exchange, and wants +his stuff back; he buys for two and gets rid of it for +four; he plays at pitch-penny, and never loses; he +sells old newspapers over again to the tobacconist; +and he keeps a little blank-book, in which he sets +down his transactions, which is completely filled with +sums and subtractions. At school he studies nothing +but arithmetic; and if he desires the medal, it is only +that he may have a free entrance into the puppet-show. +But he pleases me; he amuses me. We played at +keeping a market, with weights and scales. He knows +the exact price of everything; he understands weighing, +and makes handsome paper horns, like shopkeepers, +with great expedition. He declares that as +soon as he has finished school he shall set up in business—in +a new business which he has invented himself. +He was very much pleased when I gave him +some foreign postage-stamps; and he informed me +exactly how each one sold for collections. My father +pretended to be reading the newspaper; but he listened +to him, and was greatly diverted. His pockets are +bulging, full of his little wares; and he covers them +up with a long black cloak, and always appears +thoughtful and preoccupied with business, like a merchant. +But the thing that he has nearest his heart +is his collection of postage-stamps. This is his treasure; +and he always speaks of it as though he were +going to get a fortune out of it. His companions +accuse him of miserliness and usury. I do not know:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +I like him; he teaches me a great many things; he +seems a man to me. Coretti, the son of the wood-merchant, +says that he would not give him his postage-stamps +to save his mother’s life. My father does not +believe it.</p> + +<p>“Wait a little before you condemn him,” he said to +me; “he has this passion, but he has heart as well.”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>VANITY.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Monday, 5th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Yesterday I went to take a walk along the Rivoli +road with Votini and his father. As we were passing +through the Via Dora Grossa we saw Stardi, the boy +who kicks disturbers, standing stiffly in front of the +window of a book-shop, with his eyes fixed on a +geographical map; and no one knows how long he had +been there, because he studies even in the street. He +barely returned our salute, the rude fellow! Votini +was well dressed—even too much so. He had on +morocco boots embroidered in red, an embroidered +coat, small silken frogs, a white beaver hat, and a +watch; and he strutted. But his vanity was destined +to come to a bad end on this occasion. After having +run a tolerably long distance up the Rivoli road, leaving +his father, who was walking slowly, a long way in +the rear, we halted at a stone seat, beside a modestly +clad boy, who appeared to be weary, and was meditating, +with drooping head. A man, who must have been +his father, was walking to and fro under the trees, +reading the newspaper. We sat down. Votini placed +himself between me and the boy. All at once he +recollected that he was well dressed, and wanted to +make his neighbor admire and envy him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> + +<p>He lifted one foot, and said to me, “Have you seen +my officer’s boots?” He said this in order to make +the other boy look at them; but the latter paid no +attention to them.</p> + +<p>Then he dropped his foot, and showed me his silk +frogs, glancing askance at the boy the while, and said +that these frogs did not please him, and that he wanted +to have them changed to silver buttons; but the boy +did not look at the frogs either.</p> + +<p>Then Votini fell to twirling his very handsome white +castor hat on the tip of his forefinger; but the boy—and +it seemed as though he did it on purpose—did +not deign even a glance at the hat.</p> + +<p>Votini, who began to become irritated, drew out his +watch, opened it, and showed me the wheels; but the +boy did not turn his head. “Is it of silver gilt?” I +asked him.</p> + +<p>“No,” he replied; “it is gold.”</p> + +<p>“But not entirely of gold,” I said; “there must be +some silver with it.”</p> + +<p>“Why, no!” he retorted; and, in order to compel +the boy to look, he held the watch before his face, and +said to him, “Say, look here! isn’t it true that it is +entirely of gold?”</p> + +<p>The boy replied curtly, “I don’t know.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! oh!” exclaimed Votini, full of wrath, “what +pride!”</p> + +<p>As he was saying this, his father came up, and +heard him; he looked steadily at the lad for a moment, +then said sharply to his son, “Hold your tongue!” +and, bending down to his ear, he added, “he is blind!”</p> + +<p>Votini sprang to his feet, with a shudder, and stared +the boy in the face: the latter’s eyeballs were glassy, +without expression, without sight.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> + +<p>Votini stood humbled,—speechless,—with his eyes +fixed on the ground. At length he stammered, “I +am sorry; I did not know.”</p> + +<p>But the blind boy, who had understood it all, said, +with a kind and melancholy smile, “Oh, it’s no +matter!”</p> + +<p>Well, he is vain; but Votini has not at all a bad +heart. He never laughed again during the whole of +the walk.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE FIRST SNOW-STORM.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Saturday, 10th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Farewell, walks to Rivoli! Here is the beautiful +friend of the boys! Here is the first snow! Ever +since yesterday evening it has been falling in thick +flakes as large as gillyflowers. It was a pleasure this +morning at school to see it beat against the panes and +pile up on the window-sills; even the master watched +it, and rubbed his hands; and all were glad, when +they thought of making snowballs, and of the ice +which will come later, and of the hearth at home. +Stardi, entirely absorbed in his lessons, and with his +fists pressed to his temples, was the only one who paid +no attention to it. What beauty, what a celebration +there was when we left school! All danced down the +streets, shouting and tossing their arms, catching up +handfuls of snow, and dashing about in it, like poodles +in water. The umbrellas of the parents, who were +waiting for them outside, were all white; the policeman’s +helmet was white; all our satchels were white +in a few moments. Every one appeared to be beside +himself with joy—even Precossi, the son of the +blacksmith, that pale boy who never laughs; and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +Robetti, the lad who saved the little child from the +omnibus, poor fellow! he jumped about on his crutches. +The Calabrian, who had never touched snow, made +himself a little ball of it, and began to eat it, as though +it had been a peach; Crossi, the son of the vegetable-vendor, +filled his satchel with it; and the little mason +made us burst with laughter, when my father invited +him to come to our house to-morrow. He had his +mouth full of snow, and, not daring either to spit it +out or to swallow it, he stood there choking and staring +at us, and made no answer. Even the schoolmistress +came out of school on a run, laughing; and +my mistress of the first upper class, poor little thing! +ran through the drizzling snow, covering her face with +her green veil, and coughing; and meanwhile, hundreds +of girls from the neighboring schoolhouse +passed by, screaming and frolicking on that white +carpet; and the masters and the beadles and the +policemen shouted, “Home! home!” swallowing +flakes of snow, and whitening their moustaches and +beards. But they, too, laughed at this wild hilarity +of the scholars, as they celebrated the winter.</p> + +<hr style="visibility: hidden; margin: 1em;" /> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>You hail the arrival of winter; but there are boys +who have neither clothes nor shoes nor fire. There are +thousands of them, who descend to their villages, over +a long road, carrying in hands bleeding from chilblains a +bit of wood to warm the schoolroom. There are hundreds +of schools almost buried in the snow, bare and dismal as +caves, where the boys suffocate with smoke or chatter their +teeth with cold as they gaze in terror at the white flakes +which descend unceasingly, which pile up without cessation +on their distant cabins threatened by avalanches. You +rejoice in the winter, boys. Think of the thousands of +creatures to whom winter brings misery and death.</p> + +<p class="sig"> +Thy Father.<br /> +</p> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE LITTLE MASON.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Sunday, 11th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>The little mason came to-day, in a hunting-jacket, +entirely dressed in the cast-off clothes of his father, +which were still white with lime and plaster. My +father was even more anxious than I that he should +come. How much pleasure he gives us! No sooner +had he entered than he pulled off his ragged cap, which +was all soaked with snow, and thrust it into one of his +pockets; then he advanced with his listless gait, like +a weary workman, turning his face, as smooth as an +apple, with its ball-like nose, from side to side; and +when he entered the dining-room, he cast a glance +round at the furniture and fixed his eyes on a small +picture of Rigoletto, a hunchbacked jester, and made +a “hare’s face.”</p> + +<p>It is impossible to refrain from laughing when one +sees him make that hare’s face. We went to playing +with bits of wood: he possesses an extraordinary skill +at making towers and bridges, which seem to stand as +though by a miracle, and he works at it quite seriously, +with the patience of a man. Between one tower and +another he told me about his family: they live in a +garret; his father goes to the evening school to learn +to read, and his mother is a washerwoman. And they +must love him, of course, for he is clad like a poor +boy, but he is well protected from the cold, with neatly +mended clothes, and with his necktie nicely tied by his +mother’s hands. His father, he told me, is a fine man,—a +giant, who has trouble in getting through doors, +but he is kind, and always calls his son “hare’s face”: +the son, on the contrary, is rather small.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span></p> + +<p>At four o’clock we lunched on bread and goat’s-milk +cheese, as we sat on the sofa; and when we rose, I do +not know why, but my father did not wish me to brush +off the back, which the little mason had spotted with +white, from his jacket: he restrained my hand, and +then rubbed it off himself on the sly. While we were +playing, the little mason lost a button from his hunting-jacket, +and my mother sewed it on, and he grew quite +red, and began to watch her sew, in perfect amazement +and confusion, holding his breath the while. Then we +gave him some albums of caricatures to look at, and +he, without being aware of it himself, imitated the grimaces +of the faces there so well, that even my father +laughed. He was so much pleased when he went +away that he forgot to put on his tattered cap; and +when we reached the landing, he made a hare’s face at +me once more in sign of his gratitude. His name is +Antonio Rabucco, and he is eight years and eight +months old.</p> + +<hr style="visibility: hidden; margin: 1em;" /> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Do you know, my son, why I did not wish you to wipe off +the sofa? Because to wipe it while your companion was looking +on would have been almost the same as administering a +reproof to him for having soiled it. And this was not well, +in the first place, because he did not do it intentionally, and in +the next, because he did it with the clothes of his father, who +had covered them with plaster while at work; and what is +contracted while at work is not dirt; it is dust, lime, varnish, +whatever you like, but it is not dirt. Labor does not engender +dirt. Never say of a laborer coming from his work, “He +is filthy.” You should say, “He has on his garments the +signs, the traces, of his toil.” Remember this. And you +must love the little mason, first, because he is your comrade; +and next, because he is the son of a workingman.</p> + +<p class="sig"> +Thy Father.<br /> +</p> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 428px;"> +<img src="images/rascals.jpg" width="428" height="600" alt="“STOP THAT, YOU LITTLE RASCALS!”" title="“STOP THAT, YOU LITTLE RASCALS!”" /> +<p class="caption">“STOP THAT, YOU LITTLE RASCALS!”</p> +<p class="sig"><a href="images/rascalsl.jpg">View larger image.</a></p> +</div> + + +<h3>A SNOWBALL.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Friday, 16th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>It is still snow, snow. A shameful thing happened +in connection with the snow this morning when we +came out of school. A flock of boys had no sooner +got into the Corso than they began to throw balls of +that watery snow which makes missiles as solid and +heavy as stones. Many persons were passing along +the sidewalks. A gentleman called out, “Stop that, +you little rascals!” and just at that moment a sharp +cry rose from another part of the street, and we saw +an old man who had lost his hat and was staggering +about, covering his face with his hands, and beside him +a boy who was shouting, “Help! help!”</p> + +<p>People instantly ran from all directions. He had +been struck in the eye with a ball. All the boys dispersed, +fleeing like arrows. I was standing in front +of the bookseller’s shop, into which my father had +gone, and I saw several of my companions approaching +at a run, mingling with others near me, and pretending +to be engaged in staring at the windows: there was +Garrone, with his penny roll in his pocket, as usual; +Coretti, the little mason; and Garoffi, the boy with the +postage-stamps. In the meantime a crowd had formed +around the old man, and a policeman and others were +running to and fro, threatening and demanding: “Who +was it? Who did it? Was it you? Tell me who did +it!” and they looked at the boys’ hands to see whether +they were wet with snow.</p> + +<p>Garoffi was standing beside me. I perceived that he +was trembling all over, and that his face was as white +as that of a corpse. “Who was it? Who did it?” +the crowd continued to cry.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then I overheard Garrone say in a low voice to +Garoffi, “Come, go and present yourself; it would be +cowardly to allow any one else to be arrested.”</p> + +<p>“But I did not do it on purpose,” replied Garoffi, +trembling like a leaf.</p> + +<p>“No matter; do your duty,” repeated Garrone.</p> + +<p>“But I have not the courage.”</p> + +<p>“Take courage, then; I will accompany you.”</p> + +<p>And the policeman and the other people were crying +more loudly than ever: “Who was it? Who did it? +One of his glasses has been driven into his eye! He +has been blinded! The ruffians!”</p> + +<p>I thought that Garoffi would fall to the earth. +“Come,” said Garrone, resolutely, “I will defend +you;” and grasping him by the arm, he thrust him +forward, supporting him as though he had been a sick +man. The people saw, and instantly understood, and +several persons ran up with their fists raised; but +Garrone thrust himself between, crying:—</p> + +<p>“Do ten men of you set on one boy?”</p> + +<p>Then they ceased, and a policeman seized Garoffi by +the hand and led him, pushing aside the crowd as he +went, to a pastry-cook’s shop, where the wounded man +had been carried. On catching sight of him, I suddenly +recognized him as the old employee who lives on +the fourth floor of our house with his grandnephew. +He was stretched out on a chair, with a handkerchief +over his eyes.</p> + +<p>“I did not do it intentionally!” sobbed Garoffi, +half dead with terror; “I did not do it intentionally!”</p> + +<p>Two or three persons thrust him violently into the +shop, crying, “Your face to the earth! Beg his pardon!” +and they threw him to the ground. But all at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +once two vigorous arms set him on his feet again, and +a resolute voice said:—</p> + +<p>“No, gentlemen!” It was our head-master, who +had seen it all. “Since he has had the courage to present +himself,” he added, “no one has the right to humiliate +him.” All stood silent. “Ask his forgiveness,” +said the head-master to Garoffi. Garoffi, bursting into +tears, embraced the old man’s knees, and the latter, +having felt for the boy’s head with his hand, caressed +his hair. Then all said:—</p> + +<p>“Go away, boy! go, return home.”</p> + +<p>And my father drew me out of the crowd, and said +to me as we passed along the street, “Enrico, would +you have had the courage, under similar circumstances, +to do your duty,—to go and confess your fault?”</p> + +<p>I told him that I should. And he said, “Give me +your word, as a lad of heart and honor, that you would +do it.” “I give thee my word, father mine!”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE MISTRESSES.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Saturday, 17th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Garoffi was thoroughly terrified to-day, in the expectation +of a severe punishment from the teacher; but +the master did not make his appearance; and as the assistant +was also missing, Signora Cromi, the oldest of +the schoolmistresses, came to teach the school; she +has two grown-up children, and she has taught several +women to read and write, who now come to accompany +their sons to the Baretti schoolhouse.</p> + +<p>She was sad to-day, because one of her sons is ill. +No sooner had they caught sight of her, than they began +to make an uproar. But she said, in a slow and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +tranquil tone, “Respect my white hair; I am not only +a school-teacher, I am also a mother”; and then no +one dared to speak again, in spite of that brazen face +of Franti, who contented himself with jeering at her on +the sly.</p> + +<p>Signora Delcati, my brother’s teacher, was sent to take +charge of Signora Cromi’s class, and to Signora Delcati’s +was sent the teacher who is called “the little nun,” +because she always dresses in dark colors, with a black +apron, and has a small white face, hair that is always +smooth, very bright eyes, and a delicate voice, that +seems to be forever murmuring prayers. And it is +incomprehensible, my mother says; she is so gentle +and timid, with that thread of a voice, which is always +even, which is hardly audible, and she never speaks +loud nor flies into a passion; but, nevertheless, she +keeps the boys so quiet that you cannot hear them, and +the most roguish bow their heads when she merely +admonishes them with her finger, and her school seems +like a church; and it is for this reason, also, that she is +called “the little nun.”</p> + +<p>But there is another one who pleases me,—the young +mistress of the first lower, No. 3, that young girl with +the rosy face, who has two pretty dimples in her cheeks, +and who wears a large red feather on her little bonnet, +and a small cross of yellow glass on her neck. She is +always cheerful, and keeps her class cheerful; she is +always calling out with that silvery voice of hers, which +makes her seem to be singing, and tapping her little +rod on the table, and clapping her hands to impose silence; +then, when they come out of school, she runs +after one and another like a child, to bring them back +into line: she pulls up the cape of one, and buttons the +coat of another, so that they may not take cold; she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +follows them even into the street, in order that they +may not fall to quarrelling; she beseeches the parents +not to whip them at home; she brings lozenges to those +who have coughs; she lends her muff to those who are +cold; and she is continually tormented by the smallest +children, who caress her and demand kisses, and pull +at her veil and her mantle; but she lets them do it, and +kisses them all with a smile, and returns home all +rumpled and with her throat all bare, panting and +happy, with her beautiful dimples and her red feather. +She is also the girls’ drawing-teacher, and she supports +her mother and a brother by her own labor.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>IN THE HOUSE OF THE WOUNDED MAN.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Sunday, 18th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>The grandnephew of the old employee who was +struck in the eye by Garoffi’s snowball is with the +schoolmistress who has the red feather: we saw him +to-day in the house of his uncle, who treats him like a +son. I had finished writing out the monthly story for +the coming week,—<i>The Little Florentine Scribe</i>,—which +the master had given to me to copy; and my +father said to me:—</p> + +<p>“Let us go up to the fourth floor, and see how that +old gentleman’s eye is.”</p> + +<p>We entered a room which was almost dark, where +the old man was sitting up in bed, with a great many +pillows behind his shoulders; by the bedside sat his +wife, and in one corner his nephew was amusing himself. +The old man’s eye was bandaged. He was very +glad to see my father; he made us sit down, and said +that he was better, that his eye was not only not ruined, +but that he should be quite well again in a few days.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> + +<p>“It was an accident,” he added. “I regret the terror +which it must have caused that poor boy.” Then he +talked to us about the doctor, whom he expected every +moment to attend him. Just then the door-bell rang.</p> + +<p>“There is the doctor,” said his wife.</p> + +<p>The door opened—and whom did I see? Garoffi, +in his long cloak, standing, with bowed head, on the +threshold, and without the courage to enter.</p> + +<p>“Who is it?” asked the sick man.</p> + +<p>“It is the boy who threw the snowball,” said my +father. And then the old man said:—</p> + +<p>“Oh, my poor boy! come here; you have come to +inquire after the wounded man, have you not? But he +is better; be at ease; he is better and almost well. +Come here.”</p> + +<p>Garoffi, who did not perceive us in his confusion, +approached the bed, forcing himself not to cry; and +the old man caressed him, but could not speak.</p> + +<p>“Thanks,” said the old man; “go and tell your +father and mother that all is going well, and that they +are not to think any more about it.”</p> + +<p>But Garoffi did not move, and seemed to have something +to say which he dared not utter.</p> + +<p>“What have you to say to me? What is it that you +want?”</p> + +<p>“I!—Nothing.”</p> + +<p>“Well, good by, until we meet again, my boy; go +with your heart in peace.”</p> + +<p>Garoffi went as far as the door; but there he halted, +turned to the nephew, who was following him, and +gazed curiously at him. All at once he pulled some +object from beneath his cloak, put it in the boy’s hand, +and whispered hastily to him, “It is for you,” and +away he went like a flash.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> + +<p>The boy carried the object to his uncle; we saw that +on it was written, <i>I give you this</i>; we looked inside, +and uttered an exclamation of surprise. It was the +famous album, with his collection of postage-stamps, +which poor Garoffi had brought, the collection of which +he was always talking, upon which he had founded so +many hopes, and which had cost him so much trouble; +it was his treasure, poor boy! it was the half of his +very blood, which he had presented in exchange for +his pardon.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE LITTLE FLORENTINE SCRIBE.</h3> + +<p class="title">(<i>Monthly Story.</i>)</p> + +<p>He was in the fourth elementary class. He was a +graceful Florentine lad of twelve, with black hair and +a white face, the eldest son of an employee on the railway, +who, having a large family and but small pay, lived +in straitened circumstances. His father loved him and +was tolerably kind and indulgent to him—indulgent in +everything except in that which referred to school: on +this point he required a great deal, and showed himself +severe, because his son was obliged to attain such a +rank as would enable him to soon obtain a place and +help his family; and in order to accomplish anything +quickly, it was necessary that he should work a great +deal in a very short time. And although the lad studied, +his father was always exhorting him to study more.</p> + +<p>His father was advanced in years, and too much toil +had aged him before his time. Nevertheless, in order +to provide for the necessities of his family, in addition +to the toil which his occupation imposed upon him, he +obtained special work here and there as a copyist, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +passed a good part of the night at his writing-table. +Lately, he had undertaken, in behalf of a house which +published journals and books in parts, to write upon +the parcels the names and addresses of their subscribers, +and he earned three lire<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> for every five hundred +of these paper wrappers, written in large and regular +characters. But this work wearied him, and he often +complained of it to his family at dinner.</p> + +<p>“My eyes are giving out,” he said; “this night work +is killing me.” One day his son said to him, “Let me +work instead of you, papa; you know that I can write +like you, and fairly well.” But the father answered:—</p> + +<p>“No, my son, you must study; your school is a +much more important thing than my wrappers; I feel +remorse at robbing you of a single hour; I thank you, +but I will not have it; do not mention it to me again.”</p> + +<p>The son knew that it was useless to insist on such a +matter with his father, and he did not persist; but this +is what he did. He knew that exactly at midnight his +father stopped writing, and quitted his workroom to go +to his bedroom; he had heard him several times: as +soon as the twelve strokes of the clock had sounded, he +had heard the sound of a chair drawn back, and the +slow step of his father. One night he waited until the +latter was in bed, then dressed himself very, very +softly, and felt his way to the little workroom, lighted +the petroleum lamp again, seated himself at the writing-table, +where lay a pile of white wrappers and the list of +addresses, and began to write, imitating exactly his +father’s handwriting. And he wrote with a will, gladly, +a little in fear, and the wrappers piled up, and from +time to time he dropped the pen to rub his hands, and +then began again with increased alacrity, listening and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +smiling. He wrote a hundred and sixty—one lira! +Then he stopped, placed the pen where he had found it, +extinguished the light, and went back to bed on tiptoe.</p> + +<p>At noon that day his father sat down to the table in +a good humor. He had perceived nothing. He performed +the work mechanically, measuring it by the +hour, and thinking of something else, and only counted +the wrappers he had written on the following day. He +seated himself at the table in a fine humor, and slapping +his son on one shoulder, he said to him:—</p> + +<p>“Eh, Giulio! Your father is even a better workman +than you thought. In two hours I did a good third +more work than usual last night. My hand is still +nimble, and my eyes still do their duty.” And Giulio, +silent but content, said to himself, “Poor daddy, +besides the money, I am giving him some satisfaction +in the thought that he has grown young again. Well, +courage!”</p> + +<p>Encouraged by these good results, when night came +and twelve o’clock struck, he rose once more, and set +to work. And this he did for several nights. And his +father noticed nothing; only once, at supper, he uttered +this exclamation, “It is strange how much oil has been +used in this house lately!” This was a shock to +Giulio; but the conversation ceased there, and the +nocturnal labor proceeded.</p> + +<p>However, by dint of thus breaking his sleep every +night, Giulio did not get sufficient rest: he rose in the +morning fatigued, and when he was doing his school +work in the evening, he had difficulty in keeping his +eyes open. One evening, for the first time in his life, +he fell asleep over his copy-book.</p> + +<p>“Courage! courage!” cried his father, clapping his +hands; “to work!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>He shook himself and set to work again. But the +next evening, and on the days following, the same thing +occurred, and worse: he dozed over his books, he rose +later than usual, he studied his lessons in a languid +way, he seemed disgusted with study. His father +began to observe him, then to reflect seriously, and at +last to reprove him. He should never have done it!</p> + +<p>“Giulio,” he said to him one morning, “you put me +quite beside myself; you are no longer as you used to +be. I don’t like it. Take care; all the hopes of your +family rest on you. I am dissatisfied; do you understand?”</p> + +<p>At this reproof, the first severe one, in truth, which +he had ever received, the boy grew troubled.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he said to himself, “it is true; it cannot go +on so; this deceit must come to an end.”</p> + +<p>But at dinner, on the evening of that very same day, +his father said with much cheerfulness, “Do you know +that this month I have earned thirty-two lire more at +addressing those wrappers than last month!” and so +saying, he drew from under the table a paper package +of sweets which he had bought, that he might celebrate +with his children this extraordinary profit, and they all +hailed it with clapping of hands. Then Giulio took +heart again, courage again, and said in his heart, “No, +poor papa, I will not cease to deceive you; I will make +greater efforts to work during the day, but I shall continue +to work at night for you and for the rest.” And +his father added, “Thirty-two lire more! I am satisfied. +But that boy there,” pointing at Giulio, “is the +one who displeases me.” And Giulio received the +reprimand in silence, forcing back two tears which tried +to flow; but at the same time he felt a great pleasure +in his heart.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p> + +<p>And he continued to work by main force; but fatigue +added to fatigue rendered it ever more difficult for him +to resist. Thus things went on for two months. The +father continued to reproach his son, and to gaze at +him with eyes which grew constantly more wrathful. +One day he went to make inquiries of the teacher, and +the teacher said to him: “Yes, he gets along, he gets +along, because he is intelligent; but he no longer has +the good will which he had at first. He is drowsy, he +yawns, his mind is distracted. He writes short compositions, +scribbled down in all haste, in bad chirography. +Oh, he could do a great deal, a great deal more.”</p> + +<p>That evening the father took the son aside, and +spoke to him words which were graver than any the +latter had ever heard. “Giulio, you see how I toil, +how I am wearing out my life, for the family. You do +not second my efforts. You have no heart for me, nor +for your brothers, nor for your mother!”</p> + +<p>“Ah no! don’t say that, father!” cried the son, +bursting into tears, and opening his mouth to confess +all. But his father interrupted him, saying:—</p> + +<p>“You are aware of the condition of the family; you +know that good will and sacrifices on the part of all +are necessary. I myself, as you see, have had to +double my work. I counted on a gift of a hundred lire +from the railway company this month, and this morning +I have learned that I shall receive nothing!”</p> + +<p>At this information, Giulio repressed the confession +which was on the point of escaping from his soul, and +repeated resolutely to himself: “No, papa, I shall tell +you nothing; I shall guard my secret for the sake of +being able to work for you; I will recompense you in +another way for the sorrow which I occasion you; I +will study enough at school to win promotion; the im<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>portant +point is to help you to earn our living, and to +relieve you of the fatigue which is killing you.”</p> + +<p>And so he went on, and two months more passed, of +labor by night and weakness by day, of desperate +efforts on the part of the son, and of bitter reproaches +on the part of the father. But the worst of it was, +that the latter grew gradually colder towards the boy, +only addressed him rarely, as though he had been a +recreant son, of whom there was nothing any longer to +be expected, and almost avoided meeting his glance. +And Giulio perceived this and suffered from it, and +when his father’s back was turned, he threw him a furtive +kiss, stretching forth his face with a sentiment of +sad and dutiful tenderness; and between sorrow and +fatigue, he grew thin and pale, and he was constrained +to still further neglect his studies. And he understood +well that there must be an end to it some day, and +every evening he said to himself, “I will not get up +to-night”; but when the clock struck twelve, at the +moment when he should have vigorously reaffirmed his +resolution, he felt remorse: it seemed to him, that by +remaining in bed he should be failing in a duty, and +robbing his father and the family of a lira. And he +rose, thinking that some night his father would wake +up and discover him, or that he would discover the +deception by accident, by counting the wrappers twice; +and then all would come to a natural end, without any +act of his will, which he did not feel the courage to +exert. And thus he went on.</p> + +<p>But one evening at dinner his father spoke a word +which was decisive so far as he was concerned. His +mother looked at him, and as it seemed to her that he +was more ill and weak than usual, she said to him, +“Giulio, you are ill.” And then, turning to his father<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +with anxiety: “Giulio is ill. See how pale he is +Giulio, my dear, how do you feel?”</p> + +<p>His father gave a hasty glance, and said: “It is his +bad conscience that produces his bad health. He was +not thus when he was a studious scholar and a loving +son.”</p> + +<p>“But he is ill!” exclaimed the mother.</p> + +<p>“I don’t care anything about him any longer!” +replied the father.</p> + +<p>This remark was like a stab in the heart to the poor +boy. Ah! he cared nothing any more. His father, who +once trembled at the mere sound of a cough from him! +He no longer loved him; there was no longer any doubt; +he was dead in his father’s heart. “Ah, no! my father,” +said the boy to himself, his heart oppressed with anguish, +“now all is over indeed; I cannot live without your +affection; I must have it all back. I will tell you all; +I will deceive you no longer. I will study as of old, +come what will, if you will only love me once more, +my poor father! Oh, this time I am quite sure of my +resolution!”</p> + +<p>Nevertheless he rose that night again, by force of +habit more than anything else; and when he was once +up, he wanted to go and salute and see once more, for +the last time, in the quiet of the night, that little +chamber where he toiled so much in secret with his +heart full of satisfaction and tenderness. And when he +beheld again that little table with the lamp lighted and +those white wrappers on which he was never more to +write those names of towns and persons, which he had +come to know by heart, he was seized with a great +sadness, and with an impetuous movement he grasped +the pen to recommence his accustomed toil. But in +reaching out his hand he struck a book, and the book<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +fell. The blood rushed to his heart. What if his father +had waked! Certainly he would not have discovered +him in the commission of a bad deed: he had himself +decided to tell him all, and yet—the sound of that +step approaching in the darkness,—the discovery at +that hour, in that silence,—his mother, who would be +awakened and alarmed,—and the thought, which had +occurred to him for the first time, that his father might +feel humiliated in his presence on thus discovering +all;—all this terrified him almost. He bent his ear, +with suspended breath. He heard no sound. He +laid his ear to the lock of the door behind him—nothing. +The whole house was asleep. His father +had not heard. He recovered his composure, and he +set himself again to his writing, and wrapper was piled +on wrapper. He heard the regular tread of the policeman +below in the deserted street; then the rumble of a +carriage which gradually died away; then, after an +interval, the rattle of a file of carts, which passed +slowly by; then a profound silence, broken from time +to time by the distant barking of a dog. And he wrote +on and on: and meanwhile his father was behind him. +He had risen on hearing the fall of the book, and had +remained waiting for a long time: the rattle of the +carts had drowned the noise of his footsteps and the +creaking of the door-casing; and he was there, with his +white head bent over Giulio’s little black head, and he +had seen the pen flying over the wrappers, and in an +instant he had divined all, remembered all, understood +all, and a despairing penitence, but at the same time an +immense tenderness, had taken possession of his mind +and had held him nailed to the spot suffocating behind +his child. Suddenly Giulio uttered a piercing shriek: +two arms had pressed his head convulsively.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Oh, papa, papa! forgive me, forgive me!” he +cried, recognizing his parent by his weeping.</p> + +<p>“Do you forgive me!” replied his father, sobbing, +and covering his brow with kisses. “I have understood +all, I know all; it is I, it is I who ask your +pardon, my blessed little creature; come, come with +me!” and he pushed or rather carried him to the bedside +of his mother, who was awake, and throwing him +into her arms, he said:—</p> + +<p>“Kiss this little angel of a son, who has not slept +for three months, but has been toiling for me, while I +was saddening his heart, and he was earning our +bread!” The mother pressed him to her breast and +held him there, without the power to speak; at last +she said: “Go to sleep at once, my baby, go to sleep +and rest.—Carry him to bed.”</p> + +<p>The father took him from her arms, carried him to +his room, and laid him in his bed, still breathing hard +and caressing him, and arranged his pillows and coverlets +for him.</p> + +<p>“Thanks, papa,” the child kept repeating; “thanks; +but go to bed yourself now; I am content; go to bed, +papa.”</p> + +<p>But his father wanted to see him fall asleep; so he +sat down beside the bed, took his hand, and said to +him, “Sleep, sleep, my little son!” and Giulio, being +weak, fell asleep at last, and slumbered many hours, +enjoying, for the first time in many months, a tranquil +sleep, enlivened by pleasant dreams; and as he opened +his eyes, when the sun had already been shining for a +tolerably long time, he first felt, and then saw, close +to his breast, and resting upon the edge of the little +bed, the white head of his father, who had passed the +night thus, and who was still asleep, with his brow +against his son’s heart.</p> + + +<div class="footnotes"> +<h3>FOOTNOTES</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Sixty cents.</p></div> +</div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>WILL.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Wednesday, 28th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>There is Stardi in my school, who would have the +force to do what the little Florentine did. This morning +two events occurred at the school: Garoffi, wild +with delight, because his album had been returned to +him, with the addition of three postage-stamps of the +Republic of Guatemala, which he had been seeking for +three months; and Stardi, who took the second medal; +Stardi the next in the class after Derossi! All were +amazed at it. Who could ever have foretold it, when, +in October, his father brought him to school bundled +up in that big green coat, and said to the master, in +presence of every one:—</p> + +<p>“You must have a great deal of patience with him, +because he is very hard of understanding!”</p> + +<p>Every one credited him with a wooden head from the +very beginning. But he said, “I will burst or I will +succeed,” and he set to work doggedly, to studying +day and night, at home, at school, while walking, with +set teeth and clenched fists, patient as an ox, obstinate +as a mule; and thus, by dint of trampling on every +one, disregarding mockery, and dealing kicks to disturbers, +this big thick-head passed in advance of the +rest. He understood not the first thing of arithmetic, +he filled his compositions with absurdities, he never +succeeded in retaining a phrase in his mind; and now +he solves problems, writes correctly, and sings his lessons +like a song. And his iron will can be divined +from the seeing how he is made, so very thickset and +squat, with a square head and no neck, with short, +thick hands, and coarse voice. He studies even on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +scraps of newspaper, and on theatre bills, and every +time that he has ten soldi, he buys a book; he has already +collected a little library, and in a moment of good +humor he allowed the promise to slip from his mouth +that he would take me home and show it to me. He +speaks to no one, he plays with no one, he is always +on hand, on his bench, with his fists pressed to his +temples, firm as a rock, listening to the teacher. How +he must have toiled, poor Stardi! The master said to +him this morning, although he was impatient and in a +bad humor, when he bestowed the medals:—</p> + +<p>“Bravo, Stardi! he who endures, conquers.” But +the latter did not appear in the least puffed up with pride—he +did not smile; and no sooner had he returned +to his seat, with the medal, than he planted his fists on +his temples again, and became more motionless and +more attentive than before. But the finest thing happened +when he went out of school; for his father, a +blood-letter, as big and squat as himself, with a huge +face and a huge voice, was there waiting for him. +He had not expected this medal, and he was not willing +to believe in it, so that it was necessary for the +master to reassure him, and then he began to laugh +heartily, and tapped his son on the back of the neck, +saying energetically, “Bravo! good! my dear pumpkin; +you’ll do!” and he stared at him, astonished and +smiling. And all the boys around him smiled too, except +Stardi. He was already ruminating the lesson +for to-morrow morning in that huge head of his.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>GRATITUDE.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Saturday, 31st.<br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Your comrade Stardi never complains of his teacher; I am +sure of that. “The master was in a bad temper, was impatient,”—you +say it in a tone of resentment. Think an +instant how often you give way to acts of impatience, and +towards whom? towards your father and your mother, +towards whom your impatience is a crime. Your master +has very good cause to be impatient at times! Reflect +that he has been laboring for boys these many years, and +that if he has found many affectionate and noble individuals +among them, he has also found many ungrateful ones, who +have abused his kindness and ignored his toils; and that, +between you all, you cause him far more bitterness than satisfaction. +Reflect, that the most holy man on earth, if +placed in his position, would allow himself to be conquered +by wrath now and then. And then, if you only knew how +often the teacher goes to give a lesson to a sick boy, all +alone, because he is not ill enough to be excused from school +and is impatient on account of his suffering, and is pained +to see that the rest of you do not notice it, or abuse it! Respect, +love, your master, my son. Love him, also, because +your father loves and respects him; because he consecrates +his life to the welfare of so many boys who will forget him; +love him because he opens and enlightens your intelligence +and educates your mind; because one of these days, when +you have become a man, and when neither I nor he shall be +in the world, his image will often present itself to your mind, +side by side with mine, and then you will see certain expressions +of sorrow and fatigue in his honest countenance to which +you now pay no heed: you will recall them, and they will +pain you, even after the lapse of thirty years; and you will +feel ashamed, you will feel sad at not having loved him, at +having behaved badly to him. Love your master; for he +belongs to that vast family of fifty thousand elementary instructors, +scattered throughout all Italy, who are the intel<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>lectual +fathers of the millions of boys who are growing up +with you; the laborers, hardly recognized and poorly recompensed, +who are preparing in our country a people superior +to those of the present. I am not content with the affection +which you have for me, if you have it not also for all those +who are doing you good, and among these, your master +stands first, after your parents. Love him as you would love +a brother of mine; love him when he caresses and when he +reproves you; when he is just, and when he appears to you +to be unjust; love him when he is amiable and gracious; and +love him even more when you see him sad. Love him always. +And always pronounce with reverence that name of +“teacher,” which, after that of your father, is the noblest, +the sweetest name which one man can apply to another man.</p> + +<p class="sig"> +<span class="smcap">Thy Father.</span><br /> +</p> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="JANUARY" id="JANUARY"></a>JANUARY.</h2> + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<h3>THE ASSISTANT MASTER.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Wednesday, 4th.<br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">My</span> father was right; the master was in a bad humor +because he was not well; for the last three days, in +fact, the assistant has been coming in his stead,—that +little man, without a beard, who seems like a youth. +A shameful thing happened this morning. There had +been an uproar on the first and second days, in the +school, because the assistant is very patient and does +nothing but say, “Be quiet, be quiet, I beg of you.”</p> + +<p>But this morning they passed all bounds. Such a +noise arose, that his words were no longer audible, and +he admonished and besought; but it was a mere waste +of breath. Twice the head-master appeared at the door +and looked in; but the moment he disappeared the +murmur increased as in a market. It was in vain that +Derossi and Garrone turned round and made signs to +their comrades to be good, so that it was a shame. +No one paid any heed to them. Stardi alone remained +quiet, with his elbows on the bench, and his fists to +his temples, meditating, perhaps, on his famous library; +and Garoffi, that boy with the hooked nose and the +postage-stamps, who was wholly occupied in making a +catalogue of the subscribers at two centesimi each, for +a lottery for a pocket inkstand. The rest chattered +and laughed, pounded on the points of pens fixed in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +the benches, and snapped pellets of paper at each +other with the elastics of their garters.</p> + +<p>The assistant grasped now one, now another, by the +arm, and shook him; and he placed one of them against +the wall—time wasted. He no longer knew what to +do, and he entreated them. “Why do you behave like +this? Do you wish me to punish you by force?” +Then he thumped the little table with his fist, and +shouted in a voice of wrath and lamentation, “Silence! +silence! silence!” It was difficult to hear him. +But the uproar continued to increase. Franti threw +a paper dart at him, some uttered cat-calls, others +thumped each other on the head; the hurly-burly was +indescribable; when, all of a sudden, the beadle entered +and said:—</p> + +<p>“Signor Master, the head-master has sent for you.” +The master rose and went out in haste, with a gesture +of despair. Then the tumult began more vigorously +than ever. But suddenly Garrone sprang up, his face +all convulsed, and his fists clenched, and shouted in a +voice choked with rage:—</p> + +<p>“Stop this! You are brutes! You take advantage +of him because he is kind. If he were to bruise +your bones for you, you would be as abject as dogs. +You are a pack of cowards! The first one of you that +jeers at him again, I shall wait for outside, and I will +break his teeth,—I swear it,—even under the very +eyes of his father!”</p> + +<p>All became silent. Ah, what a fine thing it was to +see Garrone, with his eyes darting flames! He seemed +to be a furious young lion. He stared at the most +daring, one after the other, and all hung their heads. +When the assistant re-entered, with red eyes, not a +breath was audible. He stood in amazement; then,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +catching sight of Garrone, who was still all fiery and +trembling, he understood it all, and he said to him, with +accents of great affection, as he might have spoken to +a brother, “I thank you, Garrone.”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>STARDI’S LIBRARY.</h3> + +<p>I have been home with Stardi, who lives opposite the +schoolhouse; and I really experienced a feeling of envy +at the sight of his library. He is not at all rich, and +he cannot buy many books; but he preserves his schoolbooks +with great care, as well as those which his relatives +give him; and he lays aside every soldo that is +given to him, and spends it at the bookseller’s. In this +way he has collected a little library; and when his +father perceived that he had this passion, he bought +him a handsome bookcase of walnut wood, with a green +curtain, and he has had most of his volumes bound for +him in the colors that he likes. Thus when he draws a +little cord, the green curtain runs aside, and three rows +of books of every color become visible, all ranged in +order, and shining, with gilt titles on their backs,—books +of tales, of travels, and of poetry; and some +illustrated ones. And he understands how to combine +colors well: he places the white volumes next to the red +ones, the yellow next the black, the blue beside the +white, so that, viewed from a distance, they make a +very fine appearance; and he amuses himself by varying +the combinations. He has made himself a catalogue. +He is like a librarian. He is always standing near his +books, dusting them, turning over the leaves, examining +the bindings: it is something to see the care with which +he opens them, with his big, stubby hands, and blows<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +between the pages: then they seem perfectly new again. +I have worn out all of mine. It is a festival for him to +polish off every new book that he buys, to put it in its +place, and to pick it up again to take another look at it +from all sides, and to brood over it as a treasure. He +showed me nothing else for a whole hour. His eyes +were troubling him, because he had read too much. +At a certain time his father, who is large and thickset +like himself, with a big head like his, entered the room, +and gave him two or three taps on the nape of the neck, +saying with that huge voice of his:—</p> + +<p>“What do you think of him, eh? of this head of +bronze? It is a stout head, that will succeed in anything, +I assure you!”</p> + +<p>And Stardi half closed his eyes, under these rough +caresses, like a big hunting-dog. I do not know, I did +not dare to jest with him; it did not seem true to me, +that he was only a year older than myself; and when +he said to me, “Farewell until we meet again,” at the +door, with that face of his that always seems wrathful, +I came very near replying to him, “I salute you, sir,” +as to a man. I told my father afterwards, at home: +“I don’t understand it; Stardi has no natural talent, +he has not fine manners, and his face is almost ridiculous; +yet he suggests ideas to me.” And my father +answered, “It is because he has character.” And I +added, “During the hour that I spent with him he did +not utter fifty words, he did not show me a single plaything, +he did not laugh once; yet I liked to go there.”</p> + +<p>And my father answered, “That is because you +esteem him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE SON OF THE BLACKSMITH-IRONMONGER.</h3> + +<p>Yes, but I also esteem Precossi; and to say that I +esteem him is not enough,—Precossi, the son of the +blacksmith-ironmonger,—that thin little fellow, who +has kind, melancholy eyes and a frightened air; who +is so timid that he says to every one, “Excuse me”; +who is always sickly, and who, nevertheless, studies +so much. His father returns home, intoxicated with +brandy, and beats him without the slightest reason in +the world, and flings his books and his copy-books in +the air with a backward turn of his hand; and he +comes to school with the black and blue marks on his +face, and sometimes with his face all swollen, and his +eyes inflamed with much weeping. But never, never +can he be made to acknowledge that his father beats +him.</p> + +<p>“Your father has been beating you,” his companions +say to him; and he instantly exclaims, “That is not +true! it is not true!” for the sake of not dishonoring +his father.</p> + +<p>“You did not burn this leaf,” the teacher says to +him, showing him his work, half burned.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he replies, in a trembling voice; “I let it +fall on the fire.”</p> + +<p>But we know very well, nevertheless, that his +drunken father overturned the table and the light with +a kick, while the boy was doing his work. He lives in +a garret of our house, on another staircase. The portress +tells my mother everything: my sister Silvia +heard him screaming from the terrace one day, when +his father had sent him headlong down stairs, because +he had asked for a few soldi to buy a grammar. His<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +father drinks, but does not work, and his family suffers +from hunger. How often Precossi comes to school with +an empty stomach and nibbles in secret at a roll which +Garrone has given him, or at an apple brought to him +by the schoolmistress with the red feather, who was his +teacher in the first lower class. But he never says, +“I am hungry; my father does not give me anything +to eat.” His father sometimes comes for him, when +he chances to be passing the schoolhouse,—pallid, +unsteady on his legs, with a fierce face, and his hair +over his eyes, and his cap awry; and the poor boy +trembles all over when he catches sight of him in the +street; but he immediately runs to meet him, with a +smile; and his father does not appear to see him, but +seems to be thinking of something else. Poor Precossi! +He mends his torn copy-books, borrows books +to study his lessons, fastens the fragments of his shirt +together with pins; and it is a pity to see him performing +his gymnastics, with those huge shoes in which he is +fairly lost, in those trousers which drag on the ground, +and that jacket which is too long, and those huge sleeves +turned back to the very elbows. And he studies; he +does his best; he would be one of the first, if he were +able to work at home in peace. This morning he came +to school with the marks of finger-nails on one cheek, +and they all began to say to him:—</p> + +<p>“It is your father, and you cannot deny it this time; +it was your father who did that to you. Tell the head-master +about it, and he will have him called to account +for it.”</p> + +<p>But he sprang up, all flushed, with a voice trembling +with indignation:—</p> + +<p>“It’s not true! it’s not true! My father never +beats me!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>But afterwards, during lesson time, his tears fell +upon the bench, and when any one looked at him, he +tried to smile, in order that he might not show it. +Poor Precossi! To-morrow Derossi, Coretti, and +Nelli are coming to my house; I want to tell him to +come also; and I want to have him take luncheon +with me: I want to treat him to books, and turn the +house upside down to amuse him, and to fill his pockets +with fruit, for the sake of seeing him contented for +once, poor Precossi! who is so good and so courageous.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>A FINE VISIT.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Thursday, 12th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>This has been one of the finest Thursdays of the +year for me. At two o’clock, precisely, Derossi and +Coretti came to the house, with Nelli, the hunchback: +Precossi was not permitted by his father to come. +Derossi and Coretti were still laughing at their encounter +with Crossi, the son of the vegetable-seller, in +the street,—the boy with the useless arm and the red +hair,—who was carrying a huge cabbage for sale, and +with the soldo which he was to receive for the cabbage +he was to go and buy a pen. He was perfectly happy +because his father had written from America that they +might expect him any day. Oh, the two beautiful +hours that we passed together! Derossi and Coretti +are the two jolliest boys in the school; my father fell +in love with them. Coretti had on his chocolate-colored +tights and his catskin cap. He is a lively imp, +who wants to be always doing something, stirring up +something, setting something in motion. He had +already carried on his shoulders half a cartload of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +wood, early that morning; nevertheless, he galloped +all over the house, taking note of everything and talking +incessantly, as sprightly and nimble as a squirrel; +and passing into the kitchen, he asked the cook how +much we had to pay a myriagramme for wood, because +his father sells it at forty-five centesimi. He is always +talking of his father, of the time when he was a soldier +in the 49th regiment, at the battle of Custoza, where he +served in the squadron of Prince Umberto; and he is +so gentle in his manners! It makes no difference that +he was born and brought up surrounded by wood: he +has nobility in his blood, in his heart, as my father says. +And Derossi amused us greatly; he knows geography +like a master: he shut his eyes and said:—</p> + +<p>“There, I see the whole of Italy; the Apennines, +which extend to the Ionian Sea, the rivers flowing here +and there, the white cities, the gulfs, the blue bays, the +green islands;" and he repeated the names correctly +in their order and very rapidly, as though he were reading +them on the map; and at the sight of him standing +thus, with his head held high, with all his golden curls, +with his closed eyes, and all dressed in bright blue with +gilt buttons, as straight and handsome as a statue, we +were all filled with admiration. In one hour he had +learned by heart nearly three pages, which he is to +recite the day after to-morrow, for the anniversary of +the funeral of King Vittorio. And even Nelli gazed +at him in wonder and affection, as he rubbed the folds +of his apron of black cloth, and smiled with his clear +and mournful eyes. This visit gave me a great deal of +pleasure; it left something like sparks in my mind and +my heart. And it pleased me, too, when they went +away, to see poor Nelli between the other two tall, +strong fellows, who carried him home on their arms,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +and made him laugh as I have never seen him laugh +before. On returning to the dining-room, I perceived +that the picture representing Rigoletto, the hunchbacked +jester, was no longer there. My father had +taken it away in order that Nelli might not see it.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE FUNERAL OF VITTORIO EMANUELE.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +January, 17th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>To-day, at two o’clock, as soon as we entered the +schoolroom, the master called up Derossi, who went +and took his place in front of the little table facing us, +and began to recite, in his vibrating tones, gradually +raising his limpid voice, and growing flushed in the +face:—</p> + +<p>“Four years ago, on this day, at this hour, there +arrived in front of the Pantheon at Rome, the funeral +car which bore the body of Vittorio Emanuele II., the +first king of Italy, dead after a reign of twenty-nine +years, during which the great Italian fatherland, broken +up into seven states, and oppressed by strangers and +by tyrants, had been brought back to life in one single +state, free and independent; after a reign of twenty-nine +years, which he had made illustrious and beneficent +with his valor, with loyalty, with boldness amid perils, +with wisdom amid triumphs, with constancy amid misfortunes. +The funeral car arrived, laden with wreaths, +after having traversed Rome under a rain of flowers, +amid the silence of an immense and sorrowing multitude, +which had assembled from every part of Italy; +preceded by a legion of generals and by a throng of +ministers and princes, followed by a retinue of crippled +veterans, by a forest of banners, by the envoys of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +three hundred towns, by everything which represents +the power and the glory of a people, it arrived before +the august temple where the tomb awaited it. At that +moment twelve cuirassiers removed the coffin from the +car. At that moment Italy bade her last farewell to +her dead king, to her old king whom she had loved so +dearly, the last farewell to her soldier, to her father, +to the twenty-nine most fortunate and most blessed +years in her history. It was a grand and solemn moment. +The looks, the souls, of all were quivering at the +sight of that coffin and the darkened banners of the +eighty regiments of the army of Italy, borne by eighty +officers, drawn up in line on its passage: for Italy was +there in those eighty tokens, which recalled the thousands +of dead, the torrents of blood, our most sacred +glories, our most holy sacrifices, our most tremendous +griefs. The coffin, borne by the cuirassiers, passed, +and then the banners bent forward all together in salute,—the +banners of the new regiments, the old, tattered +banners of Goito, of Pastrengo, of Santa Lucia, of +Novara, of the Crimea, of Palestro, of San Martino, +of Castelfidardo; eighty black veils fell, a hundred +medals clashed against the staves, and that sonorous +and confused uproar, which stirred the blood of all, was +like the sound of a thousand human voices saying all +together, ‘Farewell, good king, gallant king, loyal +king! Thou wilt live in the heart of thy people as +long as the sun shall shine over Italy.’</p> + +<p>“After this, the banners rose heavenward once more, +and King Vittorio entered into the immortal glory of +the tomb.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>FRANTI EXPELLED FROM SCHOOL.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Saturday, 21st.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Only one boy was capable of laughing while Derossi +was declaiming the funeral oration of the king, and +Franti laughed. I detest that fellow. He is wicked. +When a father comes to the school to reprove his +son, he enjoys it; when any one cries, he laughs. He +trembles before Garrone, and he strikes the little mason +because he is small; he torments Crossi because he has +a helpless arm; he ridicules Precossi, whom every one +respects; he even jeers at Robetti, that boy in the +second grade who walks on crutches, through having +saved a child. He provokes those who are weaker +than himself, and when it comes to blows, he grows +ferocious and tries to do harm. There is something +beneath that low forehead, in those turbid eyes, which +he keeps nearly concealed under the visor of his small +cap of waxed cloth, which inspires a shudder. He fears +no one; he laughs in the master’s face; he steals when +he gets a chance; he denies it with an impenetrable +countenance; he is always engaged in a quarrel with +some one; he brings big pins to school, to prick his +neighbors with; he tears the buttons from his own +jackets and from those of others, and plays with them: +his paper, books, and copy-books are all crushed, torn, +dirty; his ruler is jagged, his pens gnawed, his nails +bitten, his clothes covered with stains and rents which +he has got in his brawls. They say that his mother has +fallen ill from the trouble that he causes her, and that +his father has driven him from the house three times; +his mother comes every now and then to make inquiries, +and she always goes away in tears. He hates school,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> +he hates his companions, he hates the teacher. The +master sometimes pretends not to see his rascalities, +and he behaves all the worse. He tried to get a hold +on him by kind treatment, and the boy ridiculed him +for it. He said terrible things to him, and the boy +covered his face with his hands, as though he were +crying; but he was laughing. He was suspended from +school for three days, and he returned more perverse +and insolent than before. Derossi said to him one day, +“Stop it! don’t you see how much the teacher suffers?” +and the other threatened to stick a nail into his stomach. +But this morning, at last, he got himself driven out like +a dog. While the master was giving to Garrone the +rough draft of <i>The Sardinian Drummer-Boy</i>, the +monthly story for January, to copy, he threw a petard +on the floor, which exploded, making the schoolroom +resound as from a discharge of musketry. The whole +class was startled by it. The master sprang to his +feet, and cried:—</p> + +<p>“Franti, leave the school!”</p> + +<p>The latter retorted, “It wasn’t I;” but he laughed. +The master repeated:—</p> + +<p>“Go!”</p> + +<p>“I won’t stir,” he answered.</p> + +<p>Then the master lost his temper, and flung himself +upon him, seized him by the arms, and tore him from +his seat. He resisted, ground his teeth, and made him +carry him out by main force. The master bore him +thus, heavy as he was, to the head-master, and then +returned to the schoolroom alone and seated himself at +his little table, with his head clutched in his hands, +gasping, and with an expression of such weariness and +trouble that it was painful to look at him.</p> + +<p>“After teaching school for thirty years!” he ex<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>claimed +sadly, shaking his head. No one breathed. +His hands were trembling with fury, and the perpendicular +wrinkle that he has in the middle of his forehead +was so deep that it seemed like a wound. Poor +master! All felt sorry for him. Derossi rose and +said, “Signor Master, do not grieve. We love you.” +And then he grew a little more tranquil, and said, “We +will go on with the lesson, boys.”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE SARDINIAN DRUMMER-BOY.</h3> + +<p class="title">(<i>Monthly Story.</i>)</p> + +<p>On the first day of the battle of Custoza, on the 24th +of July, 1848, about sixty soldiers, belonging to an +infantry regiment of our army, who had been sent to an +elevation to occupy an isolated house, suddenly found +themselves assaulted by two companies of Austrian +soldiers, who, showering them with bullets from various +quarters, hardly gave them time to take refuge in the +house and to barricade the doors, after leaving several +dead and wounded on the field. Having barred the +doors, our men ran in haste to the windows of the +ground floor and the first story, and began to fire +brisk discharges at their assailants, who, approaching +gradually, ranged in a semicircle, made vigorous +reply. The sixty Italian soldiers were commanded by +two non-commissioned officers and a captain, a tall, +dry, austere old man, with white hair and mustache; +and with them there was a Sardinian drummer-boy, a +lad of a little over fourteen, who did not look twelve, +small, with an olive-brown complexion, and two small, +deep, sparkling eyes. The captain directed the defence +from a room on the first floor, launching com<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>mands +that seemed like pistol-shots, and no sign of +emotion was visible on his iron countenance. The +drummer-boy, a little pale, but firm on his legs, had +jumped upon a table, and was holding fast to the wall +and stretching out his neck in order to gaze out of the +windows, and athwart the smoke on the fields he saw +the white uniforms of the Austrians, who were slowly +advancing. The house was situated at the summit of +a steep declivity, and on the side of the slope it had +but one high window, corresponding to a chamber in +the roof: therefore the Austrians did not threaten the +house from that quarter, and the slope was free; the +fire beat only upon the front and the two ends.</p> + +<p>But it was an infernal fire, a hailstorm of leaden +bullets, which split the walls on the outside, ground the +tiles to powder, and in the interior cracked ceilings, +furniture, window-frames, and door-frames, sending +splinters of wood flying through the air, and clouds of +plaster, and fragments of kitchen utensils and glass, +whizzing, and rebounding, and breaking everything +with a noise like the crushing of a skull. From time +to time one of the soldiers who were firing from the +windows fell crashing back to the floor, and was +dragged to one side. Some staggered from room to +room, pressing their hands on their wounds. There +was already one dead body in the kitchen, with its +forehead cleft. The semicircle of the enemy was +drawing together.</p> + +<p>At a certain point the captain, hitherto impassive, +was seen to make a gesture of uneasiness, and to leave +the room with huge strides, followed by a sergeant. +Three minutes later the sergeant returned on a run, and +summoned the drummer-boy, making him a sign to +follow. The lad followed him at a quick pace up the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +wooden staircase, and entered with him into a bare +garret, where he saw the captain writing with a pencil +on a sheet of paper, as he leaned against the little +window; and on the floor at his feet lay the well-rope.</p> + +<p>The captain folded the sheet of paper, and said +sharply, as he fixed his cold gray eyes, before which +all the soldiers trembled, on the boy:—</p> + +<p>“Drummer!”</p> + +<p>The drummer-boy put his hand to his visor.</p> + +<p>The captain said, “You have courage.”</p> + +<p>The boy’s eyes flashed.</p> + +<p>“Yes, captain,” he replied.</p> + +<p>“Look down there,” said the captain, pushing him +to the window; “on the plain, near the houses of +Villafranca, where there is a gleam of bayonets. There +stand our troops, motionless. You are to take this +billet, tie yourself to the rope, descend from the window, +get down that slope in an instant, make your +way across the fields, arrive at our men, and give the +note to the first officer you see. Throw off your belt +and knapsack.”</p> + +<p>The drummer took off his belt and knapsack and +thrust the note into his breast pocket; the sergeant +flung the rope out of the window, and held one end of +it clutched fast in his hands; the captain helped the +lad to clamber out of the small window, with his back +turned to the landscape.</p> + +<p>“Now look out,” he said; “the salvation of this +detachment lies in your courage and in your legs.”</p> + +<p>“Trust to me, Signor Captain,” replied the drummer-boy, +as he let himself down.</p> + +<p>“Bend over on the slope,” said the captain, grasping +the rope, with the sergeant.</p> + +<p>“Never fear.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“God aid you!”</p> + +<p>In a few moments the drummer-boy was on the +ground; the sergeant drew in the rope and disappeared; +the captain stepped impetuously in front of +the window and saw the boy flying down the slope.</p> + +<p>He was already hoping that he had succeeded in +escaping unobserved, when five or six little puffs of +powder, which rose from the earth in front of and +behind the lad, warned him that he had been espied +by the Austrians, who were firing down upon him +from the top of the elevation: these little clouds were +thrown into the air by the bullets. But the drummer +continued to run at a headlong speed. All at once he +fell to the earth. “He is killed!” roared the captain, +biting his fist. But before he had uttered the word he +saw the drummer spring up again. “Ah, only a fall,” +he said to himself, and drew a long breath. The +drummer, in fact, set out again at full speed; but he +limped. “He has turned his ankle,” thought the +captain. Again several cloudlets of powder smoke +rose here and there about the lad, but ever more distant. +He was safe. The captain uttered an exclamation +of triumph. But he continued to follow him with +his eyes, trembling because it was an affair of minutes: +if he did not arrive yonder in the shortest possible +time with that billet, which called for instant succor, +either all his soldiers would be killed or he should be +obliged to surrender himself a prisoner with them.</p> + +<p>The boy ran rapidly for a space, then relaxed his +pace and limped, then resumed his course, but grew +constantly more fatigued, and every little while he +stumbled and paused.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps a bullet has grazed him,” thought the +captain, and he noted all his movements, quivering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> +with excitement; and he encouraged him, he spoke to +him, as though he could hear him; he measured +incessantly, with a flashing eye, the space intervening +between the fleeing boy and that gleam of arms which +he could see in the distance on the plain amid the fields +of grain gilded by the sun. And meanwhile he heard +the whistle and the crash of the bullets in the rooms +beneath, the imperious and angry shouts of the sergeants +and the officers, the piercing laments of the +wounded, the ruin of furniture, and the fall of rubbish.</p> + +<p>“On! courage!” he shouted, following the far-off +drummer with his glance. “Forward! run! He +halts, that cursed boy! Ah, he resumes his course!”</p> + +<p>An officer came panting to tell him that the enemy, +without slackening their fire, were flinging out a white +flag to hint at a surrender. “Don’t reply to them!” +he cried, without detaching his eyes from the boy, +who was already on the plain, but who was no longer +running, and who seemed to be dragging himself along +with difficulty.</p> + +<p>“Go! run!” said the captain, clenching his teeth +and his fists; “let them kill you; die, you rascal, but +go!” Then he uttered a horrible oath. “Ah, the +infamous poltroon! he has sat down!” In fact, the +boy, whose head he had hitherto been able to see +projecting above a field of grain, had disappeared, as +though he had fallen; but, after the lapse of a minute, +his head came into sight again; finally, it was lost +behind the hedges, and the captain saw it no more.</p> + +<p>Then he descended impetuously; the bullets were +coming in a tempest; the rooms were encumbered with +the wounded, some of whom were whirling round like +drunken men, and clutching at the furniture; the walls +and floor were bespattered with blood; corpses lay<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +across the doorways; the lieutenant had had his arm +shattered by a ball; smoke and clouds of dust enveloped +everything.</p> + +<p>“Courage!” shouted the captain. “Stand firm at +your post! Succor is on the way! Courage for a +little while longer!”</p> + +<p>The Austrians had approached still nearer: their +contorted faces were already visible through the smoke, +and amid the crash of the firing their savage and offensive +shouts were audible, as they uttered insults, suggested +a surrender, and threatened slaughter. Some +soldiers were terrified, and withdrew from the windows; +the sergeants drove them forward again. But the fire of +the defence weakened; discouragement made its appearance +on all faces. It was not possible to protract the +resistance longer. At a given moment the fire of the +Austrians slackened, and a thundering voice shouted, +first in German and then in Italian, “Surrender!”</p> + +<p>“No!” howled the captain from a window.</p> + +<p>And the firing recommenced more fast and furious +on both sides. More soldiers fell. Already more than +one window was without defenders. The fatal moment +was near at hand. The captain shouted through his +teeth, in a strangled voice, “They are not coming! +they are not coming!” and rushed wildly about, +twisting his sword about in his convulsively clenched +hand, and resolved to die; when a sergeant descending +from the garret, uttered a piercing shout, “They +are coming!” “They are coming!” repeated the +captain, with a cry of joy.</p> + +<p>At that cry all, well and wounded, sergeants and +officers, rushed to the windows, and the resistance +became fierce once more. A few moments later a sort +of uncertainty was noticeable, and a beginning of dis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>order +among the foe. Suddenly the captain hastily +collected a little troop in the room on the ground floor, +in order to make a sortie with fixed bayonets. Then +he flew up stairs. Scarcely had he arrived there when +they heard a hasty trampling of feet, accompanied by +a formidable hurrah, and saw from the windows the +two-pointed hats of the Italian carabineers advancing +through the smoke, a squadron rushing forward at +great speed, and a lightning flash of blades whirling +in the air, as they fell on heads, on shoulders, and on +backs. Then the troop darted out of the door, with +bayonets lowered; the enemy wavered, were thrown +into disorder, and turned their backs; the field was left +unincumbered, the house was free, and a little later +two battalions of Italian infantry and two <a name="tn97" id="tn97"></a><ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: original has 'cannon'">cannons</ins> +occupied the eminence.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 446px;"> +<img src="images/troop.jpg" width="446" height="600" alt="“THEN THE TROOP DARTED OUT OF THE DOOR.”" title="“THEN THE TROOP DARTED OUT OF THE DOOR.”" /> +<p class="caption">“THEN THE TROOP DARTED OUT OF THE DOOR.”</p> +<p class="sig"><a href="images/troopl.jpg">View larger image.</a></p> +</div> + +<p>The captain, with the soldiers that remained to him, +rejoined his regiment, went on fighting, and was slightly +wounded in the left hand by a bullet on the rebound, +in the final assault with bayonets.</p> + +<p>The day ended with the victory on our side.</p> + +<p>But on the following day, the conflict having begun +again, the Italians were overpowered by the overwhelming +numbers of the Austrians, in spite of a valorous +resistance, and on the morning of the 27th they +sadly retreated towards the Mincio.</p> + +<p>The captain, although wounded, made the march on +foot with his soldiers, weary and silent, and, arrived at +the close of the day at Goito, on the Mincio, he immediately +sought out his lieutenant, who had been picked +up with his arm shattered, by our ambulance corps, and +who must have arrived before him. He was directed +to a church, where the field hospital had been installed +in haste. Thither he betook himself. The church was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +full of wounded men, ranged in two lines of beds, and +on mattresses spread on the floor; two doctors and +numerous assistants were going and coming, busily occupied; +and suppressed cries and groans were audible.</p> + +<p>No sooner had the captain entered than he halted and +cast a glance around, in search of his officer.</p> + +<p>At that moment he heard himself called in a weak +voice,—“Signor Captain!” He turned round. It +was his drummer-boy. He was lying on a cot bed, +covered to the breast with a coarse window curtain, in +red and white squares, with his arms on the outside, +pale and thin, but with eyes which still sparkled like +black gems.</p> + +<p>“Are you here?” asked the captain, amazed, but +still sharply. “Bravo! You did your duty.”</p> + +<p>“I did all that I could,” replied the drummer-boy.</p> + +<p>“Were you wounded?” said the captain, seeking +with his eyes for his officer in the neighboring beds.</p> + +<p>“What could one expect?” said the lad, who gained +courage by speaking, expressing the lofty satisfaction +of having been wounded for the first time, without +which he would not have dared to open his mouth in +the presence of this captain; “I had a fine run, all +bent over, but suddenly they caught sight of me. I +should have arrived twenty minutes earlier if they had +not hit me. Luckily, I soon came across a captain of +the staff, to whom I gave the note. But it was hard +work to get down after that caress! I was dying of +thirst. I was afraid that I should not get there at all. +I wept with rage at the thought that at every moment +of delay another man was setting out yonder for the +other world. But enough! I did what I could. I am +content. But, with your permission, captain, you +should look to yourself: you are losing blood.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>Several drops of blood had in fact trickled down on +the captain’s fingers from his imperfectly bandaged +palm.</p> + +<p>“Would you like to have me give the bandage a +turn, captain? Hold it here a minute.”</p> + +<p>The captain held out his left hand, and stretched out +his right to help the lad to loosen the knot and to tie +it again; but no sooner had the boy raised himself +from his pillow than he turned pale and was obliged to +support his head once more.</p> + +<p>“That will do, that will do,” said the captain, looking +at him and withdrawing his bandaged hand, which the +other tried to retain. “Attend to your own affairs, +instead of thinking of others, for things that are not +severe may become serious if they are neglected.”</p> + +<p>The drummer-boy shook his head.</p> + +<p>“But you,” said the captain, observing him attentively, +“must have lost a great deal of blood to be as +weak as this.”</p> + +<p>“Must have lost a great deal of blood!” replied the +boy, with a smile. “Something else besides blood: +look here.” And with one movement he drew aside +the coverlet.</p> + +<p>The captain started back a pace in horror.</p> + +<p>The lad had but one leg. His left leg had been +amputated above the knee; the stump was swathed in +blood-stained cloths.</p> + +<p>At that moment a small, plump, military surgeon +passed, in his shirt-sleeves. “Ah, captain,” he said, +rapidly, nodding towards the drummer, “this is an +unfortunate case; there is a leg that might have been +saved if he had not exerted himself in such a crazy +manner—that cursed inflammation! It had to be cut +off away up here. Oh, but he’s a brave lad. I can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +assure you! He never shed a tear, nor uttered a cry! +He was proud of being an Italian boy, while I was +performing the operation, upon my word of honor. He +comes of a good race, by Heavens!” And away he +went, on a run.</p> + +<p>The captain wrinkled his heavy white brows, gazed +fixedly at the drummer-boy, and spread the coverlet +over him again, and slowly, then as though unconsciously, +and still gazing intently at him, he raised his +hand to his head, and lifted his cap.</p> + +<p>“Signor Captain!” exclaimed the boy in amazement. +“What are you doing, captain? To me!”</p> + +<p>And then that rough soldier, who had never said a +gentle word to an inferior, replied in an indescribably +sweet and affectionate voice, “I am only a captain; +you are a hero.”</p> + +<p>Then he threw himself with wide-spread arms upon +the drummer-boy, and kissed him three times upon +the heart.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE LOVE OF COUNTRY.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Tuesday, 24th.<br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Since the tale of the <i>Drummer-boy</i> has touched your heart, +it should be easy for you this morning to do your composition +for examination—<i>Why you love Italy</i>—well. Why +do I love Italy? Do not a hundred answers present themselves +to you on the instant? I love Italy because my +mother is an Italian; because the blood that flows in my +veins is Italian; because the soil in which are buried the +dead whom my mother mourns and whom my father venerates +is Italian; because the town in which I was born, the +language that I speak, the books that educate me,—because +my brother, my sister, my comrades, the great people among +whom I live, and the beautiful nature which surrounds me,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +and all that I see, that I love, that I study, that I admire, +is Italian. Oh, you cannot feel that affection in its entirety! +You will feel it when you become a man; when, returning +from a long journey, after a prolonged absence, you step up +in the morning to the bulwarks of the vessel and see on the +distant horizon the lofty blue mountains of your country; +you will feel it then in the impetuous flood of tenderness +which will fill your eyes with tears and will wrest a cry from +your heart. You will feel it in some great and distant city, +in that impulse of the soul which will impel you from the +strange throng towards a workingman from whom you have +heard in passing a word in your own tongue. You will feel +it in that sad and proud wrath which will drive the blood +to your brow when you hear insults to your country from +the mouth of a stranger. You will feel it in more proud and +vigorous measure on the day when the menace of a hostile +race shall call forth a tempest of fire upon your country, +and when you shall behold arms raging on every side, youths +thronging in legions, fathers kissing their children and saying, +“Courage!” mothers bidding adieu to their young sons +and crying, “Conquer!” You will feel it like a joy divine +if you have the good fortune to behold the re-entrance to +your town of the regiments, weary, ragged, with thinned +ranks, yet terrible, with the splendor of victory in their +eyes, and their banners torn by bullets, followed by a vast +convoy of brave fellows, bearing their bandaged heads and +their stumps of arms loftily, amid a wild throng, which covers +them with flowers, with blessings, and with kisses. Then +you will comprehend the love of country; then you will +feel your country, Enrico. It is a grand and sacred thing. +May I one day see you return in safety from a battle fought +for her, safe,—you who are my flesh and soul; but if I should +learn that you have preserved your life because you were concealed +from death, your father, who welcomes you with a cry +of joy when you return from school, will receive you with +a sob of anguish, and I shall never be able to love you again, +and I shall die with that dagger in my heart.</p> + +<p class="sig"> +Thy Father.<br /> +</p></div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>ENVY.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Wednesday, 25th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>The boy who wrote the best composition of all on +our country was Derossi, as usual. And Votini, who +thought himself sure of the first medal—I like Votini +well enough, although he is rather vain and does polish +himself up a trifle too much,—but it makes me scorn +him, now that I am his neighbor on the bench, to see +how envious he is of Derossi. He would like to vie +with him; he studies hard, but he cannot do it by any +possibility, for the other is ten times as strong as he is +on every point; and Votini rails at him. Carlo Nobis +envies him also; but he has so much pride in his body +that, purely from pride, he does not allow it to be perceived. +Votini, on the other hand, betrays himself: +he complains of his difficulties at home, and says that +the master is unjust to him; and when Derossi replies +so promptly and so well to questions, as he always +does, his face clouds over, he hangs his head, pretends +not to hear, or tries to laugh, but he laughs awkwardly. +And thus every one knows about it, so that when the +master praises Derossi they all turn to look at Votini, +who chews his venom, and the little mason makes a +hare’s face at him. To-day, for instance, he was put +to the torture. The head-master entered the school +and announced the result of the examination,—“Derossi +ten tenths and the first medal.”</p> + +<p>Votini gave a huge sneeze. The master looked at +him: it was not hard to understand the matter. “Votini,” +he said, “do not let the serpent of envy enter +your body; it is a serpent which gnaws at the brain +and corrupts the heart.”</p> + +<p>Every one stared at him except Derossi. Votini<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +tried to make some answer, but could not; he sat +there as though turned to stone, and with a white face. +Then, while the master was conducting the lesson, he +began to write in large characters on a sheet of paper, +“<i>I am not envious of those who gain the first medal +through favoritism and injustice.</i>” It was a note which +he meant to send to Derossi. But, in the meantime, I +perceived that Derossi’s neighbors were plotting among +themselves, and whispering in each other’s ears, and one +cut with penknife from paper a big medal on which +they had drawn a black serpent. But Votini did not +notice this. The master went out for a few moments. +All at once Derossi’s neighbors rose and left their seats, +for the purpose of coming and solemnly presenting the +paper medal to Votini. The whole class was prepared +for a scene. Votini had already begun to quiver all +over. Derossi exclaimed:—</p> + +<p>“Give that to me!”</p> + +<p>“So much the better,” they replied; “you are the +one who ought to carry it.”</p> + +<p>Derossi took the medal and tore it into bits. At +that moment the master returned, and resumed the +lesson. I kept my eye on Votini. He had turned as +red as a coal. He took his sheet of paper very, very +quietly, as though in absence of mind, rolled it into a +ball, on the sly, put it into his mouth, chewed it a +little, and then spit it out under the bench. When +school broke up, Votini, who was a little confused, let +fall his blotting-paper, as he passed Derossi. Derossi +politely picked it up, put it in his satchel, and helped +him to buckle the straps. Votini dared not raise his +eyes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>FRANTI’S MOTHER.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Saturday, 28th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>But Votini is incorrigible. Yesterday morning, during +the lesson on religion, in the presence of the head-master, +the teacher asked Derossi if he knew by heart +the two couplets in the reading-book,—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="title"> +“Where’er I turn my gaze, ’tis Thee, great God, I see.”<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<p>Derossi said that he did not, and Votini suddenly +exclaimed, “I know them!” with a smile, as though to +pique Derossi. But he was piqued himself, instead, +for he could not recite the poetry, because Franti’s +mother suddenly flew into the schoolroom, breathless, +with her gray hair dishevelled and all wet with snow, +and pushing before her her son, who had been suspended +from school for a week. What a sad scene we +were doomed to witness! The poor woman flung herself +almost on her knees before the head-master, with +clasped hands, and besought him:—</p> + +<p>“Oh, Signor Director, do me the favor to put my +boy back in school! He has been at home for three +days. I have kept him hidden; but God have mercy +on him, if his father finds out about this affair: he will +murder him! Have pity! I no longer know what to +do! I entreat you with my whole soul!”</p> + +<p>The director tried to lead her out, but she resisted, +still continuing to pray and to weep.</p> + +<p>“Oh, if you only knew the trouble that this boy has +caused me, you would have compassion! Do me this +favor! I hope that he will reform. I shall not live +long, Signor Director; I bear death within me; but I +should like to see him reformed before my death, because”—and +she broke into a passion of weeping<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>—“he +is my son—I love him—I shall die in despair! +Take him back once more, Signor Director, that a +misfortune may not happen in the family! Do it out +of pity for a poor woman!” And she covered her +face with her hands and sobbed.</p> + +<p>Franti stood impassive, and hung his head. The +head-master looked at him, reflected a little, then said, +“Franti, go to your place.”</p> + +<p>Then the woman removed her hands from her face, +quite comforted, and began to express thanks upon +thanks, without giving the director a chance to speak, +and made her way towards the door, wiping her eyes, +and saying hastily: “I beg of you, my son.—May all +have patience.—Thanks, Signor Director; you have +performed a deed of mercy.—Be a good boy.—Good +day, boys.—Thanks, Signor Teacher; good by, and +forgive a poor mother.” And after bestowing another +supplicating glance at her son from the door, she went +away, pulling up the shawl which was trailing after +her, pale, bent, with a head which still trembled, and +we heard her coughing all the way down the stairs. +The head-master gazed intently at Franti, amid the +silence of the class, and said to him in accents of a +kind to make him tremble:—</p> + +<p>“Franti, you are killing your mother!”</p> + +<p>We all turned to look at Franti; and that infamous +boy smiled.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>HOPE.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Sunday, 29th.<br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Very beautiful, Enrico, was the impetuosity with which +you flung yourself on your mother’s heart on your return +from your lesson of religion. Yes, your master said grand<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +and consoling things to you. God threw you in each other’s +arms; he will never part you. When I die, when your +father dies, we shall not speak to each other these despairing +words, “Mamma, papa, Enrico, I shall never see you again!” +We shall see each other again in another life, where he who +has suffered much in this life will receive compensation; +where he who has loved much on earth will find again the +souls whom he has loved, in a world without sin, without +sorrow, and without death. But we must all render ourselves +worthy of that other life. Reflect, my son. Every +good action of yours, every impulse of affection for those +who love you, every courteous act towards your companions, +every noble thought of yours, is like a leap towards that other +world. And every misfortune, also, serves to raise you towards +that world; every sorrow, for every sorrow is the expiation +of a sin, every tear blots out a stain. Make it your rule to +become better and more loving every day than the day +before. Say every morning, “To-day I will do something +for which my conscience will praise me, and with which +my father will be satisfied; something which will render me +beloved by such or such a comrade, by my teacher, by my +brother, or by others.” And beseech God to give you the +strength to put your resolution into practice. “Lord, I +wish to be good, noble, courageous, gentle, sincere; help +me; grant that every night, when my mother gives me her +last kiss, I may be able to say to her, ‘You kiss this night +a nobler and more worthy boy than you kissed last night.’” +Keep always in your thoughts that other superhuman and +blessed Enrico which you may be after this life. And pray. +You cannot imagine the sweetness that you experience,—how +much better a mother feels when she sees her child +with hands clasped in prayer. When I behold you praying, +it seems impossible to me that there should not be +some one there gazing at you and listening to you. Then I +believe more firmly that there is a supreme goodness and +an infinite pity; I love you more, I work with more ardor, +I endure with more force, I forgive with all my heart, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> +I think of death with serenity. O great and good God! +To hear once more, after death, the voice of my mother, +to meet my children again, to see my Enrico once more, +my Enrico, blessed and immortal, and to clasp him in an +embrace which shall nevermore be loosed, nevermore, nevermore +to all eternity! Oh, pray! let us pray, let us love each +other, let us be good, let us bear this celestial hope in our +hearts and souls, my adored child!</p> + +<p class="sig"> +Thy Mother.<br /> +</p> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="FEBRUARY" id="FEBRUARY"></a>FEBRUARY.</h2> +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<h3>A MEDAL WELL BESTOWED.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Saturday, 4th.<br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">This</span> morning the superintendent of the schools, a +gentleman with a white beard, and dressed in black, +came to bestow the medals. He entered with the +head-master a little before the close and seated himself +beside the teacher. He questioned a few, then gave +the first medal to Derossi, and before giving the +second, he stood for a few moments listening to the +teacher and the head-master, who were talking to him +in a low voice. All were asking themselves, “To +whom will he give the second?” The superintendent +said aloud:—</p> + +<p>“Pupil Pietro Precossi has merited the second +medal this week,—merited it by his work at home, +by his lessons, by his handwriting, by his conduct in +every way.” All turned to look at Precossi, and it +was evident that all took pleasure in it. Precossi rose +in such confusion that he did not know where he stood.</p> + +<p>“Come here,” said the superintendent. Precossi +sprang up from his seat and stepped up to the master’s +table. The superintendent looked attentively at that +little waxen face, at that puny body enveloped in +turned and ill-fitting garments, at those kind, sad +eyes, which avoided his, but which hinted at a story +of suffering; then he said to him, in a voice full of +affection, as he fastened the medal on his shoulder:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>“I give you the medal, Precossi. No one is more +worthy to wear it than you. I bestow it not only on +your intelligence and your good will; I bestow it on +your heart, I give it to your courage, to your character +of a brave and good son. Is it not true,” he added, +turning to the class, “that he deserves it also on that +score?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes!” all answered, with one voice. Precossi +made a movement of the throat as though he were +swallowing something, and cast upon the benches a +very sweet look, which was expressive of immense gratitude.</p> + +<p>“Go, my dear boy,” said the superintendent; “and +may God protect you!”</p> + +<p>It was the hour for dismissing the school. Our class +got out before the others. As soon as we were outside +the door, whom should we espy there, in the large hall, +just at the entrance? The father of Precossi, the +blacksmith, pallid as was his wont, with fierce face, +hair hanging over his eyes, his cap awry, and unsteady +on his legs. The teacher caught sight of him instantly, +and whispered to the superintendent. The latter +sought out Precossi in haste, and taking him by the +hand, he led him to his father. The boy was trembling. +The boy and the superintendent approached; many +boys collected around them.</p> + +<p>“Is it true that you are the father of this lad?” +demanded the superintendent of the blacksmith, with a +cheerful air, as though they were friends. And, without +awaiting a reply:—</p> + +<p>“I rejoice with you. Look: he has won the second +medal over fifty-four of his comrades. He has deserved +it by his composition, his arithmetic, everything. +He is a boy of great intelligence and good will, who will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +accomplish great things; a fine boy, who possesses +the affection and esteem of all. You may feel proud +of him, I assure you.”</p> + +<p>The blacksmith, who had stood there with open mouth +listening to him, stared at the superintendent and the +head-master, and then at his son, who was standing +before him with downcast eyes and trembling; and as +though he had remembered and comprehended then, for +the first time, all that he had made the little fellow suffer, +and all the goodness, the heroic constancy, with +which the latter had borne it, he displayed in his countenance +a certain stupid wonder, then a sullen remorse, +and finally a sorrowful and impetuous tenderness, and +with a rapid gesture he caught the boy round the head +and strained him to his breast. We all passed before +them. I invited him to come to the house on Thursday, +with Garrone and Crossi; others saluted him; +one bestowed a caress on him, another touched his +medal, all said something to him; and his father stared +at us in amazement, as he still held his son’s head +pressed to his breast, while the boy sobbed.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>GOOD RESOLUTIONS.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Sunday, 5th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>That medal given to Precossi has awakened a remorse +in me. I have never earned one yet! For +some time past I have not been studying, and I am +discontented with myself, and the teacher, my father +and mother are discontented with me. I no longer +experience the pleasure in amusing myself that I did +formerly, when I worked with a will, and then sprang +up from the table and ran to my games full of mirth,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +as though I had not played for a month. Neither do I +sit down to the table with my family with the same +contentment as of old. I have always a shadow in my +soul, an inward voice, that says to me continually, +“It won’t do; it won’t do.”</p> + +<p>In the evening I see a great many boys pass through +the square on their return from work, in the midst of a +group of workingmen, weary but merry. They step +briskly along, impatient to reach their homes and suppers, +and they talk loudly, laughing and slapping each +other on the shoulder with hands blackened with coal, +or whitened with plaster; and I reflect that they have +been working since daybreak up to this hour. And +with them are also many others, who are still smaller, +who have been standing all day on the summits of +roofs, in front of ovens, among machines, and in the +water, and underground, with nothing to eat but a +little bread; and I feel almost ashamed, I, who in all +that time have accomplished nothing but scribble four +small pages, and that reluctantly. Ah, I am discontented, +discontented! I see plainly that my father is +out of humor, and would like to tell me so; but he is +sorry, and he is still waiting. My dear father, who +works so hard! all is yours, all that I see around me +in the house, all that I touch, all that I wear and eat, +all that affords me instruction and diversion,—all is +the fruit of your toil, and I do not work; all has +cost you thought, privations, trouble, effort; and I +make no effort. Ah, no; this is too unjust, and causes +me too much pain. I will begin this very day; I will +apply myself to my studies, like Stardi, with clenched +fists and set teeth. I will set about it with all the +strength of my will and my heart. I will conquer my +drowsiness in the evening, I will come down promptly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +in the morning, I will cudgel my brains without ceasing, +I will chastise my laziness without mercy. I will +toil, suffer, even to the extent of making myself ill; +but I will put a stop, once for all, to this languishing +and tiresome life, which is degrading me and causing +sorrow to others. Courage! to work! To work with +all my soul, and all my nerves! To work, which will +restore to me sweet repose, pleasing games, cheerful +meals! To work, which will give me back again the +kindly smile of my teacher, the blessed kiss of my +father!</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE ENGINE.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Friday, 10th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Precossi came to our house to-day with Garrone. +I do not think that two sons of princes would have +been received with greater delight. This is the first +time that Garrone has been here, because he is rather +shy, and then he is ashamed to show himself because +he is so large, and is still in the third grade. We all +went to open the door when they rang. Crossi did not +come, because his father has at last arrived from America, +after an absence of seven years. My mother +kissed Precossi at once. My father introduced Garrone +to her, saying:—</p> + +<p>“Here he is. This lad is not only a good boy; he +is a man of honor and a gentleman.”</p> + +<p>And the boy dropped his big, shaggy head, with a +sly smile at me. Precossi had on his medal, and he +was happy, because his father has gone to work again, +and has not drunk anything for the last five days, +wants him to be always in the workshop to keep him +company, and seems quite another man.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p> + +<p>We began to play, and I brought out all my things. +Precossi was enchanted with my train of cars, with the +engine that goes of itself on being wound up. He +had never seen anything of the kind. He devoured +the little red and yellow cars with his eyes. I gave +him the key to play with, and he knelt down to his +amusement, and did not raise his head again. I have +never seen him so pleased. He kept saying, “Excuse +me, excuse me,” to everything, and motioning to us +with his hands, that we should not stop the engine; +and then he picked it up and replaced the cars with a +thousand precautions, as though they had been made of +glass. He was afraid of tarnishing them with his +breath, and he polished them up again, examining them +top and bottom, and smiling to himself. We all stood +around him and gazed at him. We looked at that +slender neck, those poor little ears, which I had seen +bleeding one day, that jacket with the sleeves turned +up, from which projected two sickly little arms, which +had been upraised to ward off blows from his face. Oh! +at that moment I could have cast all my playthings and +all my books at his feet, I could have torn the last +morsel of bread from my lips to give to him, I could +have divested myself of my clothing to clothe him, I +could have flung myself on my knees to kiss his hand. +“I will at least give you the train,” I thought; but—was +necessary to ask permission of my father. At that +moment I felt a bit of paper thrust into my hand. I +looked; it was written in pencil by my father; it said:</p> + +<p>“Your train pleases Precossi. He has no playthings. +Does your heart suggest nothing to you?”</p> + +<p>Instantly I seized the engine and the cars in both +hands, and placed the whole in his arms, saying:—</p> + +<p>“Take this; it is yours.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>He looked at me, and did not understand. “It is +yours,” I said; “I give it to you.”</p> + +<p>Then he looked at my father and mother, in still +greater astonishment, and asked me:—</p> + +<p>“But why?”</p> + +<p>My father said to him:—</p> + +<p>“Enrico gives it to you because he is your friend, +because he loves you—to celebrate your medal.”</p> + +<p>Precossi asked timidly:—</p> + +<p>“I may carry it away—home?”</p> + +<p>“Of course!” we all responded. He was already +at the door, but he dared not go out. He was happy! +He begged our pardon with a mouth that smiled and +quivered. Garrone helped him to wrap up the train in +a handkerchief, and as he bent over, he made the +things with which his pockets were filled rattle.</p> + +<p>“Some day,” said Precossi to me, “you shall come +to the shop to see my father at work. I will give you +some nails.”</p> + +<p>My mother put a little bunch of flowers into Garrone’s +buttonhole, for him to carry to his mother in her +name. Garrone said, “Thanks,” in his big voice, +without raising his chin from his breast. But all his +kind and noble soul shone in his eyes.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>PRIDE.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Saturday, 11th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>The idea of Carlo Nobis rubbing off his sleeve affectedly, +when Precossi touches him in passing! That +fellow is pride incarnate because his father is a rich +man. But Derossi’s father is rich too. He would like +to have a bench to himself; he is afraid that the rest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> +will soil it; he looks down on everybody and always has +a scornful smile on his lips: woe to him who stumbles +over his foot, when we go out in files two by two! For +a mere trifle he flings an insulting word in your face, or +a threat to get his father to come to the school. It is +true that his father did give him a good lesson when he +called the little son of the charcoal-man a ragamuffin. +I have never seen so disagreeable a schoolboy! No +one speaks to him, no one says good by to him when +he goes out; there is not even a dog who would give +him a suggestion when he does not know his lesson. +And he cannot endure any one, and he pretends to +despise Derossi more than all, because he is the head +boy; and Garrone, because he is beloved by all. But +Derossi pays no attention to him when he is by; and +when the boys tell Garrone that Nobis has been +speaking ill of him, he says:—</p> + +<p>“His pride is so senseless that it does not deserve +even my passing notice.”</p> + +<p>But Coretti said to him one day, when he was smiling +disdainfully at his catskin cap:—</p> + +<p>“Go to Derossi for a while, and learn how to play +the gentleman!”</p> + +<p>Yesterday he complained to the master, because the +Calabrian touched his leg with his foot. The master +asked the Calabrian:—</p> + +<p>“Did you do it intentionally?”—“No, sir,” he replied, +frankly.—“You are too petulant, Nobis.”</p> + +<p>And Nobis retorted, in his airy way, “I shall tell +my father about it.” Then the teacher got angry.</p> + +<p>“Your father will tell you that you are in the wrong, +as he has on other occasions. And besides that, it is +the teacher alone who has the right to judge and punish +in school.” Then he added pleasantly:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>“Come, Nobis, change your ways; be kind and courteous +to your comrades. You see, we have here sons +of workingmen and of gentlemen, of the rich and the +poor, and all love each other and treat each other like +brothers, as they are. Why do not you do like the +rest? It would not cost you much to make every one +like you, and you would be so much happier yourself, +too!—Well, have you no reply to make me?”</p> + +<p>Nobis, who had listened to him with his customary +scornful smile, answered coldly:—</p> + +<p>“No, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Sit down,” said the master to him. “I am sorry +for you. You are a heartless boy.”</p> + +<p>This seemed to be the end of it all; but the little +mason, who sits on the front bench, turned his round +face towards Nobis, who sits on the back bench, and +made such a fine and ridiculous hare’s face at him, that +the whole class burst into a shout of laughter. The +master reproved him; but he was obliged to put his +hand over his own mouth to conceal a smile. And +even Nobis laughed, but not in a pleasant way.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE WOUNDS OF LABOR.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Monday, 15th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Nobis can be paired off with Franti: neither of them +was affected this morning in the presence of the +terrible sight which passed before their eyes. On coming +out of school, I was standing with my father and +looking at some big rogues of the second grade, who +had thrown themselves on their knees and were wiping +off the ice with their cloaks and caps, in order to make +slides more quickly, when we saw a crowd of people +appear at the end of the street, walking hurriedly, all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +serious and seemingly terrified, and conversing in low +tones. In the midst of them were three policemen, +and behind the policemen two men carrying a litter. +Boys hastened up from all quarters. The crowd advanced +towards us. On the litter was stretched a man, +pale as a corpse, with his head resting on one shoulder, +and his hair tumbled and stained with blood, for he +had been losing blood through the mouth and ears; and +beside the litter walked a woman with a baby in her +arms, who seemed crazy, and who shrieked from time +to time, “He is dead! He is dead! He is dead!”</p> + +<p>Behind the woman came a boy who had a portfolio +under his arm and who was sobbing.</p> + +<p>“What has happened?” asked my father. A neighbor +replied, that <a name="tn117" id="tn117"></a><ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: original has 'the the'">the</ins> man was a mason who had +fallen from the fourth story while at work. The +bearers of the litter halted for a moment. Many +turned away their faces in horror. I saw the schoolmistress +of the red feather supporting my mistress of +the upper first, who was almost in a swoon. At the +same moment I felt a touch on the elbow; it was the +little mason, who was ghastly white and trembling +from head to foot. He was certainly thinking of his +father. I was thinking of him, too. I, at least, am +at peace in my mind while I am in school: I know that +my father is at home, seated at his table, far removed +from all danger; but how many of my companions +think that their fathers are at work on a very high +bridge or close to the wheels of a machine, and that a +movement, a single false step, may cost them their +lives! They are like so many sons of soldiers who +have fathers in the battle. The little mason gazed and +gazed, and trembled more and more, and my father +noticed it and said:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>“Go home, my boy; go at once to your father, and +you will find him safe and tranquil; go!”</p> + +<p>The little mason went off, turning round at every +step. And in the meanwhile the crowd had begun to +move again, and the woman to shriek in a way that +rent the heart, “He is dead! He is dead! He is +dead!”</p> + +<p>“No, no; he is not dead,” people on all sides said +to her. But she paid no heed to them, and tore her +hair. Then I heard an indignant voice say, “You are +laughing!” and at the same moment I saw a bearded +man staring in Franti’s face. Then the man knocked +his cap to the ground with his stick, saying:—</p> + +<p>“Uncover your head, you wicked boy, when a man +wounded by labor is passing by!”</p> + +<p>The crowd had already passed, and a long streak of +blood was visible in the middle of the street.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE PRISONER.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Friday, 17th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Ah, this is certainly the strangest event of the +whole year! Yesterday morning my father took me +to the suburbs of Moncalieri, to look at a villa which +he thought of hiring for the coming summer, because +we shall not go to Chieri again this year, and it turned +out that the person who had the keys was a teacher +who acts as secretary to the owner. He showed us the +house, and then he took us to his own room, where he +gave us something to drink. On his table, among the +glasses, there was a wooden inkstand, of a conical +form, carved in a singular manner. Perceiving that +my father was looking at it, the teacher said:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>“That inkstand is very precious to me: if you only +knew, sir, the history of that inkstand!” And he +told it.</p> + +<p>Years ago he was a teacher at Turin, and all one +winter he went to give lessons to the prisoners in the +judicial prison. He gave the lessons in the chapel of +the prison, which is a circular building, and all around +it, on the high, bare walls, are a great many little +square windows, covered with two cross-bars of iron, +each one of which corresponds to a very small cell inside. +He gave his lessons as he paced about the dark, +cold chapel, and his scholars stood at the holes, with +their copy-books resting against the gratings, showing +nothing in the shadow but wan, frowning faces, gray +and ragged beards, staring eyes of murderers and +thieves. Among the rest there was one, No. 78, who +was more attentive than all the others, and who studied +a great deal, and gazed at his teacher with eyes +full of respect and gratitude. He was a young man, +with a black beard, more unfortunate than wicked, a +cabinet-maker who, in a fit of rage, had flung a plane +at his master, who had been persecuting him for some +time, and had inflicted a mortal wound on his head: +for this he had been condemned to several years of seclusion. +In three months he had learned to read and +write, and he read constantly, and the more he learned, +the better he seemed to become, and the more remorseful +for his crime. One day, at the conclusion of the +lesson, he made a sign to the teacher that he should +come near to his little window, and he announced to +him that he was to leave Turin on the following day, +to go and expiate his crime in the prison at Venice; +and as he bade him farewell, he begged in a humble +and much moved voice, that he might be allowed to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> +touch the master’s hand. The master offered him his +hand, and he kissed it; then he said:—</p> + +<p>“Thanks! thanks!” and disappeared. The master +drew back his hand; it was bathed with tears. After +that he did not see the man again.</p> + +<p>Six years passed. “I was thinking of anything except +that unfortunate man,” said the teacher, "when, +the other morning, I saw a stranger come to the house, +a man with a large black beard already sprinkled with +gray, and badly dressed, who said to me: ‘Are you +the teacher So-and-So, sir?’ ‘Who are you?’ I asked +him. ‘I am prisoner No. 78,’ he replied; ‘you +taught me to read and write six years ago; if you +recollect, you gave me your hand at the last lesson; I +have now expiated my crime, and I have come hither—to +beg you to do me the favor to accept a memento +of me, a poor little thing which I made in prison. +Will you accept it in memory of me, Signor Master?’</p> + +<p>“I stood there speechless. He thought that I did +not wish to take it, and he looked at me as much as to +say, ‘So six years of suffering are not sufficient to +cleanse my hands!’ but with so poignant an expression +of pain did he gaze at me, that I instantly extended +my hand and took the little object. This is it.”</p> + +<p>We looked attentively at the inkstand: it seemed to +have been carved with the point of a nail, and with, +great patience; on its top was carved a pen lying +across a copy-book, and around it was written: “<i>To +my teacher. A memento of No. 78. Six years!</i>” And +below, in small letters, “<i>Study and hope.</i>”</p> + +<p>The master said nothing more; we went away. But +all the way from Moncalieri to Turin I could not +get that prisoner, standing at his little window, that +farewell to his master, that poor inkstand made in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> +prison, which told so much, out of my head; and I +dreamed of them all night, and was still thinking of +them this morning—far enough from imagining the +surprise which awaited me at school! No sooner had +I taken my new seat, beside Derossi, and written my +problem in arithmetic for the monthly examination, +than I told my companion the story of the prisoner +and the inkstand, and how the inkstand was made, +with the pen across the copy-book, and the inscription +around it, “Six years!” Derossi sprang up at these +words, and began to look first at me and then at Crossi, +the son of the vegetable-vender, who sat on the bench +in front, with his back turned to us, wholly absorbed +on his problem.</p> + +<p>“Hush!” he said; then, in a low voice, catching +me by the arm, “don’t you know that Crossi spoke to +me day before yesterday of having caught a glimpse; +of an inkstand in the hands of his father, who has returned +from America; a conical inkstand, made by +hand, with a copy-book and a pen,—that is the one; +six years! He said that his father was in America; +instead of that he was in prison: Crossi was a little +boy at the time of the crime; he does not remember it; +his mother has deceived him; he knows nothing; let +not a syllable of this escape!”</p> + +<p>I remained speechless, with my eyes fixed on Crossi. +Then Derossi solved his problem, and passed it under +the bench to Crossi; he gave him a sheet of paper; he +took out of his hands the monthly story, <i>Daddy’s Nurse</i>, +which the teacher had given him to copy out, in order +that he might copy it in his stead; he gave him pens, +and stroked his shoulder, and made me promise on my +honor that I would say nothing to any one; and when +we left school, he said hastily to me:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>“His father came to get him yesterday; he will be +here again this morning: do as I do.”</p> + +<p>We emerged into the street; Crossi’s father was +there, a little to one side: a man with a black beard +sprinkled with gray, badly dressed, with a colorless and +thoughtful face. Derossi shook Crossi’s hand, in a +way to attract attention, and said to him in a loud +tone, “Farewell until we meet again, Crossi,”—and +passed his hand under his chin. I did the same. But +as he did so, Derossi turned crimson, and so did I; +and Crossi’s father gazed attentively at us, with a +kindly glance; but through it shone an expression of +uneasiness and suspicion which made our hearts grow +cold.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>DADDY’S NURSE.</h3> + +<p class="title">(<i>Monthly Story.</i>)</p> + +<p>One morning, on a rainy day in March, a lad dressed +like a country boy, all muddy and saturated with +water, with a bundle of clothes under his arm, presented +himself to the porter of the great hospital at +Naples, and, presenting a letter, asked for his father. +He had a fine oval face, of a pale brown hue, thoughtful +eyes, and two thick lips, always half open, which +displayed extremely white teeth. He came from a village +in the neighborhood of Naples. His father, who +had left home a year previously to seek work in France, +had returned to Italy, and had landed a few days before +at Naples, where, having fallen suddenly ill, he +had hardly time to write a line to announce his arrival +to his family, and to say that he was going to the hospital. +His wife, in despair at this news, and unable to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +leave home because she had a sick child, and a baby at +the breast, had sent her eldest son to Naples, with a +few soldi, to help his father—his <i>daddy</i>, as they called +him: the boy had walked ten miles.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 437px;"> +<img src="images/boy.jpg" width="437" height="600" alt="“THE BOY HAD WALKED TEN MILES.”" title="“THE BOY HAD WALKED TEN MILES.”" /> +<p class="caption">“THE BOY HAD WALKED TEN MILES.”</p> +<p class="sig"><a href="images/boyl.jpg">View larger image.</a></p> +</div> + +<p>The porter, after glancing at the letter, called a nurse +and told him to conduct the lad to his father.</p> + +<p>“What father?” inquired the nurse.</p> + +<p>The boy, trembling with terror, lest he should hear +bad news, gave the name.</p> + +<p>The nurse did not recall such a name.</p> + +<p>“An old laborer, arrived from abroad?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Yes, a laborer,” replied the lad, still more uneasy; +“not so very old. Yes, arrived from abroad.”</p> + +<p>“When did he enter the hospital?” asked the +nurse.</p> + +<p>The lad glanced at his letter; “Five days ago, I +think.”</p> + +<p>The nurse stood a while in thought; then, as though +suddenly recalling him; “Ah!” he said, “the furthest +bed in the fourth ward.”</p> + +<p>“Is he very ill? How is he?” inquired the boy, +anxiously.</p> + +<p>The nurse looked at him, without replying. Then +he said, “Come with me.”</p> + +<p>They ascended two flights of stairs, walked to the +end of a long corridor, and found themselves facing +the open door of a large hall, wherein two rows of +beds were arranged. “Come,” repeated the nurse, +entering. The boy plucked up his courage, and followed +him, casting terrified glances to right and left, +on the pale, emaciated faces of the sick people, some +of whom had their eyes closed, and seemed to be dead, +while others were staring into the air, with their eyes +wide open and fixed, as though frightened. Some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +were moaning like children. The big room was dark, +the air was impregnated with an acute odor of medicines. +Two sisters of charity were going about with +phials in their hands.</p> + +<p>Arrived at the extremity of the great room, the nurse +halted at the head of a bed, drew aside the curtains, +and said, “Here is your father.”</p> + +<p>The boy burst into tears, and letting fall his bundle, +he dropped his head on the sick man’s shoulder, clasping +with one hand the arm which was lying motionless +on the coverlet. The sick man did not move.</p> + +<p>The boy rose to his feet, and looked at his father, and +broke into a fresh fit of weeping. Then the sick man +gave a long look at him, and seemed to recognize him; +but his lips did not move. Poor daddy, how he was +changed! The son would never have recognized him. +His hair had turned white, his beard had grown, his face +was swollen, of a dull red hue, with the skin tightly drawn +and shining; his eyes were diminished in size, his lips very +thick, his whole countenance altered. There was no +longer anything natural about him but his forehead and +the arch of his eyebrows. He breathed with difficulty.</p> + +<p>“Daddy! daddy!” said the boy, “it is I; don’t +you know me? I am Cicillo, your own Cicillo, who +has come from the country: mamma has sent me. +Take a good look at me; don’t you know me? Say +one word to me.”</p> + +<p>But the sick man, after having looked attentively +at him, closed his eyes.</p> + +<p>“Daddy! daddy! What is the matter with you? +I am your little son—your own Cicillo.”</p> + +<p>The sick man made no movement, and continued to +breathe painfully.</p> + +<p>Then the lad, still weeping, took a chair, seated him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>self +and waited, without taking his eyes from his +father’s face. “A doctor will surely come to pay him +a visit,” he thought; “he will tell me something.” +And he became immersed in sad thoughts, recalling +many things about his kind father, the day of parting, +when he said the last good by to him on board the +ship, the hopes which his family had founded on his +journey, the desolation of his mother on the arrival of +the letter; and he thought of death: he beheld his +father dead, his mother dressed in black, the family in +misery. And he remained a long time thus. A light +hand touched him on the shoulder, and he started up: +it was a nun.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter with my father?” he asked her +quickly.</p> + +<p>“Is he your father?” said the sister gently.</p> + +<p>“Yes, he is my father; I have come. What ails +him?”</p> + +<p>“Courage, my boy,” replied the sister; “the doctor +will be here soon now.” And she went away +without saying anything more.</p> + +<p>Half an hour later he heard the sound of a bell, and +he saw the doctor enter at the further end of the hall, +accompanied by an assistant; the sister and a nurse +followed him. They began the visit, pausing at every +bed. This time of waiting seemed an eternity to the +lad, and his anxiety increased at every step of the doctor. +At length they arrived at the next bed. The +doctor was an old man, tall and stooping, with a grave +face. Before he left the next bed the boy rose to his +feet, and when he approached he began to cry.</p> + +<p>The doctor looked at him.</p> + +<p>“He is the sick man’s son,” said the sister; “he +arrived this morning from the country.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>The doctor placed one hand on his shoulder; then +bent over the sick man, felt his pulse, touched his forehead, +and asked a few questions of the sister, who +replied, “There is nothing new.” Then he thought +for a while and said, “Continue the present treatment.”</p> + +<p>Then the boy plucked up courage, and asked in a +tearful voice, “What is the matter with my father?”</p> + +<p>“Take courage, my boy,” replied the doctor, laying +his hand on his shoulder once more; “he has erysipelas +in his face. It is a serious case, but there is still +hope. Help him. Your presence may do him a great +deal of good.”</p> + +<p>“But he does not know me!” exclaimed the boy in +a tone of affliction.</p> + +<p>“He will recognize you—to-morrow perhaps. Let +us hope for the best and keep up our courage.”</p> + +<p>The boy would have liked to ask some more +questions, but he did not dare. The doctor passed on. +And then he began his life of nurse. As he could do +nothing else, he arranged the coverlets of the sick man, +touched his hand every now and then, drove away the +flies, bent over him at every groan, and when the +sister brought him something to drink, he took the +glass or the spoon from her hand, and administered it +in her stead. The sick man looked at him occasionally, +but he gave no sign of recognition. However, +his glance rested longer on the lad each time, especially +when the latter put his handkerchief to his eyes.</p> + +<p>Thus passed the first day. At night the boy slept +on two chairs, in a corner of the ward, and in the +morning he resumed his work of mercy. That day it +seemed as though the eyes of the sick man revealed +a dawning of consciousness. At the sound of the +boy’s caressing voice a vague expression of gratitude<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> +seemed to gleam for an instant in his pupils, and once +he moved his lips a little, as though he wanted to say +something. After each brief nap he seemed, on opening +his eyes, to seek his little nurse. The doctor, who +had passed twice, thought he noted a slight improvement. +Towards evening, on putting the cup to his +lips, the lad fancied that he perceived a very faint +smile glide across the swollen lips. Then he began +to take comfort and to hope; and with the hope of +being understood, confusedly at least, he talked to +him—talked to him at great length—of his mother, of +his little sisters, of his own return home, and he exhorted +him to courage with warm and loving words. +And although he often doubted whether he was heard, +he still talked; for it seemed to him that even if he +did not understand him, the sick man listened with a +certain pleasure to his voice,—to that unaccustomed +intonation of affection and sorrow. And in this manner +passed the second day, and the third, and the +fourth, with vicissitudes of slight improvements and +unexpected changes for the worse; and the boy was +so absorbed in all his cares, that he hardly nibbled a +bit of bread and cheese twice a day, when the sister +brought it to him, and hardly saw what was going on +around him,—the dying patients, the sudden running +up of the sisters at night, the moans and despairing +gestures of visitors,—all those doleful and lugubrious +scenes of hospital life, which on any other occasion +would have disconcerted and alarmed him. Hours, +days, passed, and still he was there with his daddy; +watchful, wistful, trembling at every sigh and at every +look, agitated incessantly between a hope which relieved +his mind and a discouragement which froze his +heart.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p> + +<p>On the fifth day the sick man suddenly grew worse. +The doctor, on being interrogated, shook his head, as +much as to say that all was over, and the boy flung +himself on a chair and burst out sobbing. But one +thing comforted him. In spite of the fact that he was +worse, the sick man seemed to be slowly regaining a +little intelligence. He stared at the lad with increasing +intentness, and, with an expression which grew in +sweetness, would take his drink and medicine from no +one but him, and made strenuous efforts with his lips +with greater frequency, as though he were trying to +pronounce some word; and he did it so plainly sometimes +that his son grasped his arm violently, inspired +by a sudden hope, and said to him in a tone which was +almost that of joy, “Courage, courage, daddy; you +will get well, we will go away from here, we will return +home with mamma; courage, for a little while +longer!”</p> + +<p>It was four o’clock in the afternoon, and just when +the boy had abandoned himself to one of these outbursts +of tenderness and hope, when a sound of footsteps +became audible outside the nearest door in the +ward, and then a strong voice uttering two words only,—“Farewell, +sister!”—which made him spring to +his feet, with a cry repressed in his throat.</p> + +<p>At that moment there entered the ward a man with +a thick bandage on his hand, followed by a sister.</p> + +<p>The boy uttered a sharp cry, and stood rooted to +the spot.</p> + +<p>The man turned round, looked at him for a moment, +and uttered a cry in his turn,—“Cicillo!”—and +darted towards him.</p> + +<p>The boy fell into his father’s arms, choking with +emotion.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p> + +<p>The sister, the nurse, and the assistant ran up, and +stood there in amazement.</p> + +<p>The boy could not recover his voice.</p> + +<p>“Oh, my Cicillo!” exclaimed the father, after bestowing +an attentive look on the sick man, as he kissed +the boy repeatedly. “Cicillo, my son, how is this? +They took you to the bedside of another man. And +there was I, in despair at not seeing you after mamma +had written, ‘I have sent him.’ Poor Cicillo! How +many days have you been here? How did this mistake +occur? I have come out of it easily! I have a good +constitution, you know! And how is mamma? And +Concettella? And the little baby—how are they all? +I am leaving the hospital now. Come, then. Oh, +Lord God! Who would have thought it!”</p> + +<p>The boy tried to interpolate a few words, to tell the +news of the family. “Oh how happy I am!” he +stammered. “How happy I am! What terrible days +I have passed!” And he could not finish kissing his +father.</p> + +<p>But he did not stir.</p> + +<p>“Come,” said his father; “we can get home this +evening.” And he drew the lad towards him. The +boy turned to look at his patient.</p> + +<p>“Well, are you coming or not?” his father demanded, +in amazement.</p> + +<p>The boy cast yet another glance at the sick man, +who opened his eyes at that moment and gazed intently +at him.</p> + +<p>Then a flood of words poured from his very soul. +“No, daddy; wait—here—I can’t. Here is this old +man. I have been here for five days. He gazes at +me incessantly. I thought he was you. I love him +dearly. He looks at me; I give him his drink; he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +wants me always beside him; he is very ill now. Have +patience; I have not the courage—I don’t know—it +pains me too much; I will return home to-morrow; let +me stay here a little longer; I don’t at all like to leave +him. See how he looks at me! I don’t know who he +is, but he wants me; he will die alone: let me stay +here, dear daddy!”</p> + +<p>“Bravo, little fellow!” exclaimed the attendant.</p> + +<p>The father stood in perplexity, staring at the boy; +then he looked at the sick man. “Who is he?” he +inquired.</p> + +<p>“A countryman, like yourself,” replied the attendant, +“just arrived from abroad, and who entered the hospital +on the very day that you entered it. He was out +of his senses when they brought him here, and could +not speak. Perhaps he has a family far away, and +sons. He probably thinks that your son is one of his.”</p> + +<p>The sick man was still looking at the boy.</p> + +<p>The father said to Cicillo, “Stay.”</p> + +<p>“He will not have to stay much longer,” murmured +the attendant.</p> + +<p>“Stay,” repeated his father: “you have heart. +I will go home immediately, to relieve mamma’s distress. +Here is a scudo for your expenses. Good by, +my brave little son, until we meet!”</p> + +<p>He embraced him, looked at him intently, kissed +him again on the brow, and went away.</p> + +<p>The boy returned to his post at the bedside, and the +sick man appeared consoled. And Cicillo began again +to play the nurse, no longer weeping, but with the +same eagerness, the same patience, as before; he again +began to give the man his drink, to arrange his bedclothes, +to caress his hand, to speak softly to him, to +exhort him to courage. He attended him all that day,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +all that night; he remained beside him all the following +day. But the sick man continued to grow constantly +worse; his face turned a purple color, his +breathing grew heavier, his agitation increased, inarticulate +cries escaped his lips, the inflammation became +excessive. On his evening visit, the doctor said that +he would not live through the night. And then Cicillo +redoubled his cares, and never took his eyes from him +for a minute. The sick man gazed and gazed at him, +and kept moving his lips from time to time, with great +effort, as though he wanted to say something, and an +expression of extraordinary tenderness passed over his +eyes now and then, as they continued to grow smaller +and more dim. And that night the boy watched with +him until he saw the first rays of dawn gleam white +through the windows, and the sister appeared. The +sister approached the bed, cast a glance at the patient, +and then went away with rapid steps. A few moments +later she reappeared with the assistant doctor, and +with a nurse, who carried a lantern.</p> + +<p>“He is at his last gasp,” said the doctor.</p> + +<p>The boy clasped the sick man’s hand. The latter +opened his eyes, gazed at him, and closed them once +more.</p> + +<p>At that moment the lad fancied that he felt his hand +pressed. “He pressed my hand!” he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>The doctor bent over the patient for an instant, then +straightened himself up.</p> + +<p>The sister detached a crucifix from the wall.</p> + +<p>“He is dead!” cried the boy.</p> + +<p>“Go, my son,” said the doctor: “your work of +mercy is finished. Go, and may fortune attend you! +for you deserve it. God will protect you. Farewell!”</p> + +<p>The sister, who had stepped aside for a moment, re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>turned +with a little bunch of violets which she had +taken from a glass on the window-sill, and handed +them to the boy, saying:—</p> + +<p>“I have nothing else to give you. Take these in +memory of the hospital.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks,” returned the boy, taking the bunch of +flowers with one hand and drying his eyes with the +other; “but I have such a long distance to go on foot—I +shall spoil them.” And separating the violets, he +scattered them over the bed, saying: “I leave them as +a memento for my poor dead man. Thanks, sister! +thanks, doctor!” Then, turning to the dead man, +“Farewell—” And while he sought a name to give +him, the sweet name which he had applied to him +for five days recurred to his lips,—“Farewell, poor +daddy!”</p> + +<p>So saying, he took his little bundle of clothes under +his arm, and, exhausted with fatigue, he walked slowly +away. The day was dawning.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE WORKSHOP.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Saturday, 18th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Precossi came last night to remind me that I was to +go and see his workshop, which is down the street, and +this morning when I went out with my father, I got +him to take me there for a moment. As we approached +the shop, Garoffi issued from it on a run, with a package +in his hand, and making his big cloak, with which +he covers up his merchandise, flutter. Ah! now I +know where he goes to pilfer iron filings, which he +sells for old papers, that barterer of a Garoffi! When +we arrived in front of the door, we saw Precossi seated<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +on a little pile of bricks, engaged in studying his lesson, +with his book resting on his knees. He rose quickly +and invited us to enter. It was a large apartment, full +of coal-dust, bristling with hammers, pincers, bars, and +old iron of every description; and in one corner burned +a fire in a small furnace, where puffed a pair of bellows +worked by a boy. Precossi, the father, was standing +near the anvil, and a young man was holding a bar of +iron in the fire.</p> + +<p>“Ah! here he is,” said the smith, as soon as he +caught sight of us, and he lifted his cap, “the nice +boy who gives away railway trains! He has come to +see me work a little, has he not? I shall be at your +service in a moment.” And as he said it, he smiled; +and he no longer had the ferocious face, the malevolent +eyes of former days. The young man handed him a +long bar of iron heated red-hot on one end, and the +smith placed it on the anvil. He was making one of +those curved bars for the rail of terrace balustrades. +He raised a large hammer and began to beat it, pushing +the heated part now here, now there, between one point +of the anvil and the middle, and turning it about in +various ways; and it was a marvel to see how the +iron curved beneath the rapid and accurate blows of +the hammer, and twisted, and gradually assumed the +graceful form of a leaf torn from a flower, like a pipe of +dough which he had modelled with his hands. And +meanwhile his son watched us with a certain air of +pride, as much as to say, “See how my father works!”</p> + +<p>“Do you see how it is done, little master?” the +blacksmith asked me, when he had finished, holding out +the bar, which looked like a bishop’s crosier. Then he +laid it aside, and thrust another into the fire.</p> + +<p>“That was very well made, indeed,” my father said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +to him. And he added, “So you are working—eh! +You have returned to good habits?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I have returned,” replied the workman, wiping +away the perspiration, and reddening a little. “And +do you know who has made me return to them?” My +father pretended not to understand. “This brave boy,” +said the blacksmith, indicating his son with his finger; +“that brave boy there, who studied and did honor to +his father, while his father rioted, and treated him like a +dog. When I saw that medal—Ah! thou little lad +of mine, no bigger than a soldo<a name="FNanchor_1_2" id="FNanchor_1_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_2" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> of cheese, come hither, +that I may take a good look at thy phiz!”</p> + +<p>The boy ran to him instantly; the smith took him +and set him directly on the anvil, holding him under +the arms, and said to him:—</p> + +<p>“Polish off the frontispiece of this big beast of a +daddy of yours a little!”</p> + +<p>And then Precossi covered his father’s black face +with kisses, until he was all black himself.</p> + +<p>“That’s as it should be,” said the smith, and he set +him on the ground again.</p> + +<p>“That really is as it should be, Precossi!” exclaimed +my father, delighted. And bidding the smith +and his son good day, he led me away. As I was +going out, little Precossi said to me, “Excuse me,” +and thrust a little packet of nails into my pocket. +I invited him to come and view the Carnival from my +house.</p> + +<p>“You gave him your railway train,” my father said +to me in the street; “but if it had been made of +gold and filled with pearls, it would still have been but +a petty gift to that sainted son, who has reformed his +father’s heart.”</p> + +<div class="footnotes"> + +<h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_2" id="Footnote_1_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_2"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> The twentieth part of a cubit; Florentine measure.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span></p></div> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE LITTLE HARLEQUIN.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Monday, 20th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>The whole city is in a tumult over the Carnival, +which is nearing its close. In every square rise booths +of mountebanks and jesters; and we have under our +windows a circus-tent, in which a little Venetian company, +with five horses, is giving a show. The circus +is in the centre of the square; and in one corner +there are three very large vans in which the mountebanks +sleep and dress themselves,—three small houses +on wheels, with their tiny windows, and a chimney +in each of them, which smokes continually; and between +window and window the baby’s swaddling-bands +are stretched. There is one woman who is nursing +a child, who prepares the food, and dances on the +tight-rope. Poor people! The word <i>mountebank</i> is +spoken as though it were an insult; but they earn +their living honestly, nevertheless, by amusing all +the world—and how they work! All day long they +run back and forth between the circus-tent and the +vans, in tights, in all this cold; they snatch a mouthful +or two in haste, standing, between two performances; +and sometimes, when they get their tent full, +a wind arises, wrenches away the ropes and extinguishes +the lights, and then good by to the show! +They are obliged to return the money, and to work the +entire night at repairing their booth. There are two +lads who work; and my father recognized the smallest +one as he was traversing the square; and he is the +son of the proprietor, the same one whom we saw perform +tricks on horseback last year in a circus on the +Piazza Vittorio Emanuele. And he has grown; he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +must be eight years old: he is a handsome boy, with a +round and roguish face, with so many black curls that +they escape from his pointed cap. He is dressed up like +a harlequin, decked out in a sort of sack, with sleeves +of white, embroidered with black, and his slippers are +of cloth. He is a merry little imp. He charms every +one. He does everything. We see him early in the +morning, wrapped in a shawl, carrying milk to his +wooden house; then he goes to get the horses at the +boarding-stable on the Via Bertola. He holds the tiny +baby in his arms; he transports hoops, trestles, rails, +ropes; he cleans the vans, lights the fire, and in his +leisure moments he always hangs about his mother. +My father is always watching him from the window, +and does nothing but talk about him and his family, +who have the air of nice people, and of being fond of +their children.</p> + +<p>One evening we went to the circus: it was cold; +there was hardly any one there; but the little harlequin +exerted himself greatly to cheer those few people: he +executed precarious leaps; he caught hold of the horses’ +tails; he walked with his legs in the air, all alone; he +sang, always with a smile constantly on his handsome +little brown face. And his father, who had on a red +vest and white trousers, with tall boots, and a whip in +his hand, watched him: but it was melancholy. My +father took pity on him, and spoke of him on the following +day to Delis the painter, who came to see us. +These poor people were killing themselves with hard +work, and their affairs were going so badly! The little +boy pleased him so much! What could be done for +them? The painter had an idea.</p> + +<p>“Write a fine article for the <i>Gazette</i>,” he said: +“you know how to write well: relate the miraculous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +things which the little harlequin does, and I will take +his portrait for you. Everybody reads the <i>Gazette</i>, and +people will flock thither for once.”</p> + +<p>And thus they did. My father wrote a fine article, +full of jests, which told all that we had observed from +the window, and inspired a desire to see and caress the +little artist; and the painter sketched a little portrait +which was graceful and a good likeness, and which +was published on Saturday evening. And behold! at +the Sunday performance a great crowd rushed to the +circus. The announcement was made: <i>Performance +for the Benefit of the Little Harlequin</i>, as he was styled +in the <i>Gazette</i>. The circus was crammed; many of the +spectators held the <i>Gazette</i> in their hands, and showed +it to the little harlequin, who laughed and ran from one +to another, perfectly delighted. The proprietor was delighted +also. Just fancy! Not a single newspaper had +ever done him such an honor, and the money-box was +filled. My father sat beside me. Among the spectators +we found persons of our acquaintance. Near the +entrance for the horses stood the teacher of gymnastics—the +one who has been with Garibaldi; and opposite +us, in the second row, was the little mason, with +his little round face, seated beside his gigantic father; +and no sooner did he catch sight of me than he made +a hare’s face at me. A little further on I espied +Garoffi, who was counting the spectators, and calculated +on his fingers how much money the company had +taken in. On one of the chairs in the first row, not +far from us, there was also poor Robetti, the boy who +saved the child from the omnibus, with his crutches +between his knees, pressed close to the side of his +father, the artillery captain, who kept one hand on his +shoulder. The performance began. The little harlequin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +accomplished wonders on his horse, on the trapeze, on +the tight-rope; and every time that he jumped down, +every one clapped their hands, and many pulled his curls. +Then several others, rope-dancers, jugglers, and riders, +clad in tights, and sparkling with silver, went through +their exercises; but when the boy was not performing, +the audience seemed to grow weary. At a certain point +I saw the teacher of gymnastics, who held his post at +the entrance for the horses, whisper in the ear of the +proprietor of the circus, and the latter instantly glanced +around, as though in search of some one. His glance +rested on us. My father perceived it, and understood +that the teacher had revealed that he was the author of +the article, and in order to escape being thanked, he +hastily retreated, saying to me:—</p> + +<p>“Remain, Enrico; I will wait for you outside.”</p> + +<p>After exchanging a few words with his father, the little +harlequin went through still another trick: erect +upon a galloping horse, he appeared in four characters—as +a pilgrim, a sailor, a soldier, and an acrobat; and +every time that he passed near me, he looked at me. +And when he dismounted, he began to make the tour +of the circus, with his harlequin’s cap in his hand, and +everybody threw soldi or sugar-plums into it. I had +two soldi ready; but when he got in front of me, instead +of offering his cap, he drew it back, gave me a +look and passed on. I was mortified. Why had he +offered me that affront?</p> + +<p>The performance came to an end; the proprietor +thanked the audience; and all the people rose also, +and thronged to the doors. I was confused by the +crowd, and was on the point of going out, when I felt +a touch on my hand. I turned round: it was the little +harlequin, with his tiny brown face and his black curls,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +who was smiling at me; he had his hands full of sugar-plums. +Then I understood.</p> + +<p>“Will you accept these sugar-plums from the little +harlequin?” said he to me, in his dialect.</p> + +<p>I nodded, and took three or four.</p> + +<p>“Then,” he added, “please accept a kiss also.”</p> + +<p>“Give me two,” I answered; and held up my +face to him. He rubbed off his floury face with his +hand, put his arm round my neck, and planted two +kisses on my cheek, saying:—</p> + +<p>“There! take one of them to your father.”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE LAST DAY OF THE CARNIVAL.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Tuesday, 21st.<br /> +</p> + +<p>What a sad scene was that which we witnessed +to-day at the procession of the masks! It ended well; +but it might have resulted in a great misfortune. In +the San Carlo Square, all decorated with red, white, +and yellow festoons, a vast multitude had assembled; +masks of every hue were flitting about; cars, gilded +and adorned, in the shape of pavilions; little theatres, +barks filled with harlequins and warriors, cooks, sailors, +and shepherdesses; there was such a confusion that one +knew not where to look; a tremendous clash of trumpets, +horns, and cymbals lacerated the ears; and the +masks on the chariots drank and sang, as they apostrophized +the people in the streets and at the windows, +who retorted at the top of their lungs, and hurled +oranges and sugar-plums at each other vigorously; +and above the chariots and the throng, as far as the +eye could reach, one could see banners fluttering, +helmets gleaming, plumes waving, gigantic pasteboard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +heads moving, huge head-dresses, enormous trumpets, +fantastic arms, little drums, castanets, red caps, and +bottles;—all the world seemed to have gone mad. +When our carriage entered the square, a magnificent +chariot was driving in front of us, drawn by four +horses covered with trappings embroidered in gold, +and all wreathed in artificial roses, upon which there +were fourteen or fifteen gentlemen masquerading as +gentlemen at the court of France, all glittering with +silk, with huge white wigs, a plumed hat, under the arm +a small-sword, and a tuft of ribbons and laces on the +breast. They were very gorgeous. They were singing +a French canzonette in concert and throwing sweetmeats +to the people, and the people clapped their +hands and shouted. Suddenly, on our left, we saw +a man lift a child of five or six above the heads of +the crowd,—a poor little creature, who wept piteously, +and flung her arms about as though in a fit of convulsions. +The man made his way to the gentlemen’s +chariot; one of the latter bent down, and the other +said aloud:—</p> + +<p>“Take this child; she has lost her mother in the +crowd; hold her in your arms; the mother may not +be far off, and she will catch sight of her: there is +no other way.”</p> + +<p>The gentleman took the child in his arms: all the +rest stopped singing; the child screamed and struggled; +the gentleman removed his mask; the chariot +continued to move slowly onwards. Meanwhile, as +we were afterwards informed, at the opposite extremity +of the square a poor woman, half crazed with despair, +was forcing her way through the crowd, by dint of +shoves and elbowing, and shrieking:—</p> + +<p>“Maria! Maria! Maria! I have lost my little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> +daughter! She has been stolen from me! They have +suffocated my child!” And for a quarter of an hour +she raved and expressed her despair in this manner, +straying now a little way in this direction, and then +a little way in that, crushed by the throng through +which she strove to force her way.</p> + +<p>The gentleman on the car was meanwhile holding +the child pressed against the ribbons and laces on his +breast, casting glances over the square, and trying to +calm the poor creature, who covered her face with her +hands, not knowing where she was, and sobbed as +though she would break her heart. The gentleman was +touched: it was evident that these screams went to +his soul. All the others offered the child oranges and +sugar-plums; but she repulsed them all, and grew constantly +more convulsed and frightened.</p> + +<p>“Find her mother!” shouted the gentleman to the +crowd; “seek her mother!” And every one turned +to the right and the left; but the mother was not to +be found. Finally, a few paces from the place where +the Via Roma enters the square, a woman was seen +to rush towards the chariot. Ah, I shall never forget +that! She no longer seemed a human creature: her +hair was streaming, her face distorted, her garments +torn; she hurled herself forward with a rattle in her +throat,—one knew not whether to attribute it to either +joy, anguish, or rage,—and darted out her hands like +two claws to snatch her child. The chariot halted.</p> + +<p>“Here she is,” said the gentleman, reaching out the +child after kissing it; and he placed her in her mother’s +arms, who pressed her to her breast like a fury. But +one of the tiny hands rested a second longer in the +hands of the gentleman; and the latter, pulling off of +his right hand a gold ring set with a large diamond,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +and slipping it with a rapid movement upon the finger +of the little girl, said:—</p> + +<p>“Take this; it shall be your marriage dowry.”</p> + +<p>The mother stood rooted to the spot, as though enchanted; +the crowd broke into applause; the gentleman +put on his mask again, his companions resumed their +song, and the chariot started on again slowly, amid a +tempest of hand-clapping and hurrahs.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE BLIND BOYS.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Thursday, 24th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>The master is very ill, and they have sent in his +stead the master of the fourth grade, who has been a +teacher in the Institute for the Blind. He is the oldest +of all the instructors, with hair so white that it looks +like a wig made of cotton, and he speaks in a peculiar +manner, as though he were chanting a melancholy +song; but he does it well, and he knows a great deal. +No sooner had he entered the schoolroom than, catching +sight of a boy with a bandage on his eye, he +approached the bench, and asked him what was the +matter.</p> + +<p>“Take care of your eyes, my boy,” he said to him. +And then Derossi asked him:—</p> + +<p>“Is it true, sir, that you have been a teacher of +the blind?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, for several years,” he replied. And Derossi +said, in a low tone, “Tell us something about it.”</p> + +<p>The master went and seated himself at his table.</p> + +<p>Coretti said aloud, “The Institute for the Blind is +in the Via Nizza.”</p> + +<p>“You say blind—blind," said the master, “as you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> +would say poor or ill, or I know not what. But do you +thoroughly comprehend the significance of that word? +Reflect a little. Blind! Never to see anything! Not +to be able to distinguish the day from night; to see +neither the sky, nor sun, nor your parents, nor anything +of what is around you, and which you touch; +to be immersed in a perpetual obscurity, and as though +buried in the bowels of the earth! Make a little +effort to close your eyes, and to think of being obliged +to remain forever thus; you will suddenly be overwhelmed +by a mental agony, by terror; it will seem to +you impossible to resist, that you must burst into a +scream, that you must go mad or die. But, poor boys! +when you enter the Institute of the Blind for the first +time, during their recreation hour, and hear them playing +on violins and flutes in all directions, and talking +loudly and laughing, ascending and descending the +stairs at a rapid pace, and wandering freely through +the corridors and dormitories, you would never pronounce +these unfortunates to be the unfortunates that +they are. It is necessary to observe them closely. +There are lads of sixteen or eighteen, robust and +cheerful, who bear their blindness with a certain ease, +almost with hardihood; but you understand from a +certain proud, resentful expression of countenance +that they must have suffered tremendously before they +became resigned to this misfortune.</p> + +<p>“There are others, with sweet and pallid faces, on +which a profound resignation is visible; but they are +sad, and one understands that they must still weep at +times in secret. Ah, my sons! reflect that some of +them have lost their sight in a few days, some after +years of martyrdom and many terrible chirurgical operations, +and that many were born so,—born into a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> +night that has no dawn for them, that they entered into +the world as into an immense tomb, and that they do +not know what the human countenance is like. Picture +to yourself how they must have suffered, and how they +must still suffer, when they think thus confusedly of +the tremendous difference between themselves and those +who see, and ask themselves, ‘Why this difference, if +we are not to blame?’</p> + +<p>“I who have spent many years among them, when I +recall that class, all those eyes forever sealed, all those +pupils without sight and without life, and then look at +the rest of you, it seems impossible to me that you +should not all be happy. Think of it! there are about +twenty-six thousand blind persons in Italy! Twenty-six +thousand persons who do not see the light—do +you understand? An army which would employ four +hours in marching past our windows.”</p> + +<p>The master paused. Not a breath was audible in all +the school. Derossi asked if it were true that the +blind have a finer sense of feeling than the rest of us.</p> + +<p>The master said: “It is true. All the other senses +are finer in them, because, since they must replace, +among them, that of sight, they are more and better +exercised than they are in the case of those who +see. In the morning, in the dormitory, one asks +another, ‘Is the sun shining?’ and the one who is +the most alert in dressing runs instantly into the yard, +and flourishes his hands in the air, to find out whether +there is any warmth of the sun perceptible, and then +he runs to communicate the good news, ‘The sun is +shining!’ From the voice of a person they obtain an +idea of his height. We judge of a man’s soul by his +eyes; they, by his voice. They remember intonations +and accents for years. They perceive if there is more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +than one person in a room, even if only one speaks, +and the rest remain motionless. They know by their +touch whether a spoon is more or less polished. Little +girls distinguish dyed wools from that which is of the +natural color. As they walk two and two along the +streets, they recognize nearly all the shops by their +odors, even those in which we perceive no odor. They +spin top, and by listening to its humming they go +straight to it and pick it up without any mistake. They +trundle hoop, play at ninepins, jump the rope, build +little houses of stones, pick violets as though they saw +them, make mats and baskets, weaving together straw +of various colors rapidly and well—to such a degree is +their sense of touch skilled. The sense of touch is +their sight. One of their greatest pleasures is to handle, +to grasp, to guess the forms of things by feeling them. +It is affecting to see them when they are taken to the +Industrial Museum, where they are allowed to handle +whatever they please, and to observe with what eagerness +they fling themselves on geometrical bodies, on +little models of houses, on instruments; with what joy +they feel over and rub and turn everything about in +their hands, in order to see how it is made. They call +this <i>seeing</i>!”</p> + +<p>Garoffi interrupted the teacher to inquire if it was +true that blind boys learn to reckon better than others.</p> + +<p>The master replied: “It is true. They learn to +reckon and to write. They have books made on purpose +for them, with raised characters; they pass their +fingers over these, recognize the letters and pronounce +the words. They read rapidly; and you should see +them blush, poor little things, when they make a mistake. +And they write, too, without ink. They write +on a thick and hard sort of paper with a metal bod<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>kin, +which makes a great many little hollows, grouped +according to a special alphabet; these little punctures +stand out in relief on the other side of the paper, so +that by turning the paper over and drawing their fingers +across these projections, they can read what they have +written, and also the writing of others; and thus they +write compositions: and they write letters to each +other. They write numbers in the same way, and +they make calculations; and they calculate mentally +with an incredible facility, since their minds are not +diverted by the sight of surrounding objects, as ours +are. And if you could see how passionately fond they +are of reading, how attentive they are, how well they +remember everything, how they discuss among themselves, +even the little ones, of things connected with +history and language, as they sit four or five on +the same bench, without turning to each other, and +converse, the first with the third, the second with the +fourth, in a loud voice and all together, without losing +a single word, so acute and prompt is their hearing.</p> + +<p>“And they attach more importance to the examinations +than you do, I assure you, and they are fonder +of their teachers. They recognize their teacher by his +step and his odor; they perceive whether he is in a good +or bad humor, whether he is well or ill, simply by the +sound of a single word of his. They want the teacher +to touch them when he encourages and praises them, +and they feel of his hand and his arms in order to +express their gratitude. And they love each other and +are good comrades to each other. In play time they +are always together, according to their wont. In the +girls’ school, for instance, they form into groups according +to the instrument on which they play,—violinists, +pianists, and flute-players,—and they never<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> +separate. When they have become attached to any +one, it is difficult for them to break it off. They take +much comfort in friendship. They judge correctly +among themselves. They have a clear and profound +idea of good and evil. No one grows so enthusiastic +as they over the narration of a generous action, of a +grand deed.”</p> + +<p>Votini inquired if they played well.</p> + +<p>“They are ardently fond of music," replied the master. +“It is their delight: music is their life. Little +blind children, when they first enter the Institute, are +capable of standing three hours perfectly motionless, +to listen to playing. They learn easily; they play +with fire. When the teacher tells one of them that +he has not a talent for music, he feels very sorrowful, +but he sets to studying desperately. Ah! if +you could hear the music there, if you could see them +when they are playing, with their heads thrown back +a smile on their lips, their faces aflame, trembling +with emotion, in ecstasies at listening to that harmony +which replies to them in the obscurity which envelops +them, you would feel what a divine consolation is +music! And they shout for joy, they beam with happiness +when a teacher says to them, “You will +become an artist.” The one who is first in music, who +succeeds the best on the violin or piano, is like a king +to them; they love, they venerate him. If a quarrel +arises between two of them, they go to him; if two +friends fall out, it is he who reconciles them. The +smallest pupils, whom he teaches to play, regard him +as a father. Then all go to bid him good night before +retiring to bed. And they talk constantly of music. +They are already in bed, late at night, wearied by +study and work, and half asleep, and still they are dis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span>cussing, +in a low tone, operas, masters, instruments, +and orchestras. It is so great a punishment for them +to be deprived of the reading, or lesson in music, it +causes them such sorrow that one hardly ever has the +courage to punish them in that way. That which the +light is to our eyes, music is to their hearts.”</p> + +<p>Derossi asked whether we could not go to see them.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” replied the teacher; “but you boys must +not go there now. You shall go there later on, when +you are in a condition to appreciate the whole extent +of this misfortune, and to feel all the compassion which +it merits. It is a sad sight, my boys. You will sometimes +see there boys seated in front of an open +window, enjoying the fresh air, with immovable countenances, +which seem to be gazing at the wide green +expanse and the beautiful blue mountains which you +can see; and when you remember that they see nothing—that +they will never see anything—of that vast loveliness, +your soul is oppressed, as though you had yourselves +become blind at that moment. And then there +are those who were born blind, who, as they have +never seen the world, do not complain because they +do not possess the image of anything, and who, +therefore, arouse less compassion. But there are lads +who have been blind but a few months, who still recall +everything, who thoroughly understand all that they have +lost; and these have, in addition, the grief of feeling +their minds obscured, the dearest images grow a little +more dim in their minds day by day, of feeling the +persons whom they have loved the most die out of their +memories. One of these boys said to me one day, +with inexpressible sadness, ‘I should like to have +my sight again, only for a moment, in order to see +mamma’s face once more, for I no longer remember<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> +it!’ And when their mothers come to see them, +the boys place their hands on her face; they feel her +over thoroughly from brow to chin, and her ears, +to see how they are made, and they can hardly +persuade themselves that they cannot see her, and +they call her by name many times, to beseech her +that she will allow them, that she will make them see +her just once. How many, even hard-hearted men, +go away in tears! And when you do go out, your +case seems to you to be the exception, and the power +to see people, houses, and the sky a hardly deserved +privilege. Oh! there is not one of you, I am sure, +who, on emerging thence, would not feel disposed +to deprive himself of a portion of his own sight, in +order to bestow a gleam at least upon all those poor +children, for whom the sun has no light, for whom a +mother has no face!”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE SICK MASTER.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Saturday, 25th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Yesterday afternoon, on coming out of school, I went +to pay a visit to my sick master. He made himself ill +by overworking. Five hours of teaching a day, then +an hour of gymnastics, then two hours more of evening +school, which is equivalent to saying but little sleep, +getting his food by snatches, and working breathlessly +from morning till night. He has ruined his health. +That is what my mother says. My mother was +waiting for me at the big door; I came out alone, and +on the stairs I met the teacher with the black beard—Coatti,—the +one who frightens every one and punishes +no one. He stared at me with wide-open eyes, +and made his voice like that of a lion, in jest, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +without laughing. I was still laughing when I pulled +the bell on the fourth floor; but I ceased very suddenly +when the servant let me into a wretched, half-lighted +room, where my teacher was in bed. He was lying in +a little iron bed. His beard was long. He put one +hand to his brow in order to see better, and exclaimed +in his affectionate voice:—</p> + +<p>“Oh, Enrico!”</p> + +<p>I approached the bed; he laid one hand on my +shoulder and said:—</p> + +<p>“Good, my boy. You have done well to come and +see your poor teacher. I am reduced to a sad state, +as you see, my dear Enrico. And how fares the +school? How are your comrades getting along? All +well, eh? Even without me? You do very well without +your old master, do you not?”</p> + +<p>I was on the point of saying “no”; he interrupted +me.</p> + +<p>“Come, come, I know that you do not hate me!” +and he heaved a sigh.</p> + +<p>I glanced at some photographs fastened to the wall.</p> + +<p>“Do you see?” he said to me. “All of them are +of boys who gave me their photographs more than +twenty years ago. They were good boys. These are +my souvenirs. When I die, my last glance will be at +them; at those roguish urchins among whom my life +has been passed. You will give me your portrait, +also, will you not, when you have finished the elementary +course?” Then he took an orange from his nightstand, +and put it in my hand.</p> + +<p>“I have nothing else to give you,” he said; “it is +the gift of a sick man.”</p> + +<p>I looked at it, and my heart was sad; I know not +why.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Attend to me,” he began again. “I hope to +get over this; but if I should not recover, see that +you strengthen yourself in arithmetic, which is your +weak point; make an effort. It is merely a question of +a first effort: because sometimes there is no lack of +aptitude; there is merely an absence of a fixed purpose—of +stability, as it is called.”</p> + +<p>But in the meantime he was breathing hard; and +it was evident that he was suffering.</p> + +<p>“I am feverish,” he sighed; “I am half gone; I +beseech you, therefore, apply yourself to arithmetic, +to problems. If you don’t succeed at first, rest a little +and begin afresh. And press forward, but quietly +without fagging yourself, without straining your mind. +Go! My respects to your mamma. And do not +mount these stairs again. We shall see each other +again in school. And if we do not, you must now +and then call to mind your master of the third grade, +who was fond of you.”</p> + +<p>I felt inclined to cry at these words.</p> + +<p>“Bend down your head,” he said to me.</p> + +<p>I bent my head to his pillow; he kissed my hair. +Then he said to me, “Go!” and turned his face +towards the wall. And I flew down the stairs; for I +longed to embrace my mother.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE STREET.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Saturday, 25th.<br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>I was watching you from the window this afternoon, +when you were on your way home from the master’s; you +came in collision with a woman. Take more heed to your +manner of walking in the street. There are duties to be +fulfilled even there. If you keep your steps and gestures<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +within bounds in a private house, why should you not do the +same in the street, which is everybody’s house. Remember +this, Enrico. Every time that you meet a feeble old man, +a poor person, a woman with a child in her arms, a cripple +with his crutches, a man bending beneath a burden, a family +dressed in mourning, make way for them respectfully. We +must respect age, misery, maternal love, infirmity, labor, +death. Whenever you see a person on the point of being +run down by a vehicle, drag him away, if it is a child; +warn him, if he is a man; always ask what ails the child +who is crying all alone; pick up the aged man’s cane, when +he lets it fall. If two boys are fighting, separate them; if it +is two men, go away: do not look on a scene of brutal violence, +which offends and hardens the heart. And when a +man passes, bound, and walking between a couple of policemen, +do not add your curiosity to the cruel curiosity of the +crowd; he may be innocent. Cease to talk with your companion, +and to smile, when you meet a hospital litter, which +is, perhaps, bearing a dying person, or a funeral procession; +for one may issue from your own home on the morrow. Look +with reverence upon all boys from the asylums, who walk +two and two,—the blind, the dumb, those afflicted with the +rickets, orphans, abandoned children; reflect that it is misfortune +and human charity which is passing by. Always pretend +not to notice any one who has a repulsive or laughter-provoking +deformity. Always extinguish every match that +you find in your path; for it may cost some one his life. +Always answer a passer-by who asks you the way, with +politeness. Do not look at any one and laugh; do not run +without necessity; do not shout. Respect the street. The +education of a people is judged first of all by their behavior +on the street. Where you find offences in the streets, there +you will find offences in the houses. And study the streets; +study the city in which you live. If you were to be hurled +far away from it to-morrow, you would be glad to have it +clearly present in your memory, to be able to traverse it all +again in memory. Your own city, and your little country—that +which has been for so many years your world; where<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +you took your first steps at your mother’s side; where you +experienced your first emotions, opened your mind to its first +ideas; found your first friends. It has been a mother to +you: it has taught you, loved you, protected you. Study it +in its streets and in its people, and love it; and when you +hear it insulted, defend it.</p> + +<p class="sig"> +Thy Father.<br /> +</p></div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="MARCH" id="MARCH"></a>MARCH</h2> + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<h3>THE EVENING SCHOOLS.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Thursday, 2d.<br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Last</span> night my father took me to see the evening +schools in our Baretti schoolhouse, which were all +lighted up already, and where the workingmen were +already beginning to enter. On our arrival we found +the head-master and the other masters in a great rage, +because a little while before the glass in one window +had been broken by a stone. The beadle had darted +forth and seized a boy by the hair, who was passing; +but thereupon, Stardi, who lives in the house opposite, +had presented himself, and said:—</p> + +<p>“This is not the right one; I saw it with my own +eyes; it was Franti who threw it; and he said to me, +‘Woe to you if you tell of me!’ but I am not afraid.”</p> + +<p>Then the head-master declared that Franti should be +expelled for good. In the meantime I was watching +the workingmen enter by twos and threes; and more +than two hundred had already entered. I have never +seen anything so fine as the evening school. There +were boys of twelve and upwards; bearded men who +were on their way from their work, carrying their +books and copy-books; there were carpenters, engineers +with black faces, masons with hands white with +plaster, bakers’ boys with their hair full of flour; and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +there was perceptible the odor of varnish, hides, fish, oil,—odors +of all the various trades. There also entered +a squad of artillery workmen, dressed like soldiers and +headed by a corporal. They all filed briskly to their +benches, removed the board underneath, on which we +put our feet, and immediately bent their heads over +their work.</p> + +<p>Some stepped up to the teachers to ask explanations, +with their open copy-books in their hands. I caught +sight of that young and well-dressed master “the +little lawyer,” who had three or four workingmen clustered +round his table, and was making corrections with +his pen; and also the lame one, who was laughing with +a dyer who had brought him a copy-book all adorned +with red and blue dyes. My master, who had recovered, +and who will return to school to-morrow, was +there also. The doors of the schoolroom were open. +I was amazed, when the lessons began, to see how attentive +they all were, and how they kept their eyes +fixed on their work. Yet the greater part of them, so +the head-master said, for fear of being late, had not +even been home to eat a mouthful of supper, and they +were hungry.</p> + +<p>But the younger ones, after half an hour of school, +were falling off the benches with sleep; one even went +fast asleep with his head on the bench, and the master +waked him up by poking his ear with a pen. But the +grown-up men did nothing of the sort; they kept awake, +and listened, with their mouths wide open, to the lesson, +without even winking; and it made a deep impression +on me to see all those bearded men on our benches. +We also ascended to the story floor above, and I ran +to the door of my schoolroom and saw in my seat a +man with a big mustache and a bandaged hand, who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +might have injured himself while at work about some +machine; but he was trying to write, though very, +very slowly.</p> + +<p>But what pleased me most was to behold in the seat +of the little mason, on the very same bench and in the +very same corner, his father, the mason, as huge as a +giant, who sat there all coiled up into a narrow space, +with his chin on his fists and his eyes on his book, so +absorbed that he hardly breathed. And there was no +chance about it, for it was he himself who said to the +head-master the first evening he came to the school:—</p> + +<p>“Signor Director, do me the favor to place me in +the seat of 'my hare’s face.’” For he always calls his +son so.</p> + +<p>My father kept me there until the end, and in the +street we saw many women with children in their arms, +waiting for their husbands; and at the entrance a +change was effected: the husbands took the children in +their arms, and the women made them surrender their +books and copy-books; and in this wise they proceeded +to their homes. For several minutes the street was +filled with people and with noise. Then all grew +silent, and all we could see was the tall and weary +form of the head-master disappearing in the distance.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE FIGHT.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Sunday, 5th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>It was what might have been expected. Franti, on +being expelled by the head-master, wanted to revenge +himself on Stardi, and he waited for Stardi at a +corner, when he came out of school, and when the +latter was passing with his sister, whom he escorts +every day from an institution in the Via Dora Grossa.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> +My sister Silvia, on emerging from her schoolhouse, +witnessed the whole affair, and came home thoroughly +terrified. This is what took place. Franti, with his +cap of waxed cloth canted over one ear, ran up on +tiptoe behind Stardi, and in order to provoke him, +gave a tug at his sister’s braid of hair,—a tug so +violent that it almost threw the girl flat on her +back on the ground. The little girl uttered a cry; +her brother whirled round; Franti, who is much taller +and stronger than Stardi, thought:—</p> + +<p>“He’ll not utter a word, or I’ll break his skin for +him!”</p> + +<p>But Stardi never paused to reflect, and small and +ill-made as he is, he flung himself with one bound +on that big fellow, and began to belabor him with his +fists. He could not hold his own, however, and he +got more than he gave. There was no one in the +street but girls, so there was no one who could separate +them. Franti flung him on the ground; but the +other instantly got up, and then down he went on his +back again, and Franti pounded away as though upon +a door: in an instant he had torn away half an ear, +and bruised one eye, and drawn blood from the other’s +nose. But Stardi was tenacious; he roared:—</p> + +<p>“You may kill me, but I’ll make you pay for it!” +And down went Franti, kicking and cuffing, and Stardi +under him, butting and lungeing out with his heels. +A woman shrieked from a window, “Good for the +little one!” Others said, “It is a boy defending his +sister; courage! give it to him well!” And they +screamed at Franti, “You overbearing brute! you +coward!” But Franti had grown ferocious; he held +out his leg; Stardi tripped and fell, and Franti on top +of him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Surrender!”—“No!”—“Surrender!”—“No!” +and in a flash Stardi recovered his feet, clasped Franti +by the body, and, with one furious effort, hurled him +on the pavement, and fell upon him with one knee on +his breast.</p> + +<p>“Ah, the infamous fellow! he has a knife!” shouted +a man, rushing up to disarm Franti.</p> + +<p>But Stardi, beside himself with rage, had already +grasped Franti’s arm with both hands, and bestowed +on the fist such a bite that the knife fell from it, and +the hand began to bleed. More people had run up in +the meantime, who separated them and set them on +their feet. Franti took to his heels in a sorry plight, +and Stardi stood still, with his face all scratched, and +a black eye,—but triumphant,—beside his weeping +sister, while some of the girls collected the books and +copy-books which were strewn over the street.</p> + +<p>“Bravo, little fellow!” said the bystanders; “he +defended his sister!”</p> + +<p>But Stardi, who was thinking more of his satchel +than of his victory, instantly set to examining the +books and copy-books, one by one, to see whether +anything was missing or injured. He rubbed them off +with his sleeve, scrutinized his pen, put everything +back in its place, and then, tranquil and serious as +usual, he said to his sister, “Let us go home quickly, +for I have a problem to solve.”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE BOYS’ PARENTS.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Monday, 6th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>This morning big Stardi, the father, came to wait +for his son, fearing lest he should again encounter +Franti. But they say that Franti will not be seen +again, because he will be put in the penitentiary.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p> + +<p>There were a great many parents there this morning. +Among the rest there was the retail wood-dealer, the +father of Coretti, the perfect image of his son, slender, +brisk, with his mustache brought to a point, and a +ribbon of two colors in the button-hole of his jacket. I +know nearly all the parents of the boys, through constantly +seeing them there. There is one crooked grandmother, +with her white cap, who comes four times a day, +whether it rains or snows or storms, to accompany +and to get her little grandson, of the upper primary; +and she takes off his little cloak and puts it on for him, +adjusts his necktie, brushes off the dust, polishes him +up, and takes care of the copy-books. It is evident +that she has no other thought, that she sees nothing +in the world more beautiful. The captain of artillery +also comes frequently, the father of Robetti, the lad +with the crutches, who saved a child from the omnibus, +and as all his son’s companions bestow a caress on +him in passing, he returns a caress or a salute to every +one, and he never forgets any one; he bends over all, +and the poorer and more badly dressed they are, the +more pleased he seems to be, and he thanks them.</p> + +<p>At times, however, sad sights are to be seen. A +gentleman who had not come for a month because +one of his sons had died, and who had sent a maidservant +for the other, on returning yesterday and +beholding the class, the comrades of his little dead +boy, retired into a corner and burst into sobs, with +both hands before his face, and the head-master took +him by the arm and led him to his office.</p> + +<p>There are fathers and mothers who know all their +sons’ companions by name. There are girls from the +neighboring schoolhouse, and scholars in the gymnasium, +who come to wait for their brothers. There is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> +one old gentleman who was a colonel formerly, and +who, when a boy drops a copy-book or a pen, picks it +up for him. There are also to be seen well-dressed +men, who discuss school matters with others, who have +kerchiefs on their heads, and baskets on their arm, and +who say:—</p> + +<p>“Oh! the problem has been a difficult one this +time.”—“That grammar lesson will never come to an +end this morning!”</p> + +<p>And when there is a sick boy in the class, they all +know it; when a sick boy is convalescent, they all +rejoice. And this morning there were eight or ten +gentlemen and workingmen standing around Crossi’s +mother, the vegetable-vender, making inquiries about +a poor baby in my brother’s class, who lives in her +court, and who is in danger of his life. The school +seems to make them all equals and friends.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>NUMBER 78.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Wednesday, 8th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>I witnessed a touching scene yesterday afternoon. +For several days, every time that the vegetable-vender +has passed Derossi she has gazed and gazed at him +with an expression of great affection; for Derossi, +since he made the discovery about that inkstand and +prisoner Number 78, has acquired a love for her son, +Crossi, the red-haired boy with the useless arm; and he +helps him to do his work in school, suggests answers to +him, gives him paper, pens, and pencils; in short, he +behaves to him like a brother, as though to compensate +him for his father’s misfortune, which has affected +him, although he does not know it.</p> + +<p>The vegetable-vender had been gazing at Derossi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> +for several days, and she seemed loath to take her +eyes from him, for she is a good woman who lives only +for her son; and Derossi, who assists him and makes +him appear well, Derossi, who is a gentleman and the +head of the school, seems to her a king, a saint. She +continued to stare at him, and seemed desirous of saying +something to him, yet ashamed to do it. But at +last, yesterday morning, she took courage, stopped +him in front of a gate, and said to him:—</p> + +<p>“I beg a thousand pardons, little master! Will +you, who are so kind to my son, and so fond of him, +do me the favor to accept this little memento from a +poor mother?” and she pulled out of her vegetable-basket +a little pasteboard box of white and gold.</p> + +<p>Derossi flushed up all over, and refused, saying with +decision:—</p> + +<p>“Give it to your son; I will accept nothing.”</p> + +<p>The woman was mortified, and stammered an excuse:—</p> + +<p>“I had no idea of offending you. It is only caramels.”</p> + +<p>But Derossi said “no,” again, and shook his head. +Then she timidly lifted from her basket a bunch of +radishes, and said:—</p> + +<p>“Accept these at least,—they are fresh,—and +carry them to your mamma.”</p> + +<p>Derossi smiled, and said:—</p> + +<p>“No, thanks: I don’t want anything; I shall always +do all that I can for Crossi, but I cannot accept anything. +I thank you all the same.”</p> + +<p>“But you are not at all offended?” asked the woman, +anxiously.</p> + +<p>Derossi said “No, no!” smiled, and went off, while +she exclaimed, in great delight:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>“Oh, what a good boy! I have never seen so fine +and handsome a boy as he!”</p> + +<p>And that appeared to be the end of it. But in the +afternoon, at four o’clock, instead of Crossi’s mother, +his father approached, with that gaunt and melancholy +face of his. He stopped Derossi, and from the way in +which he looked at the latter I instantly understood +that he suspected Derossi of knowing his secret. He +looked at him intently, and said in his sorrowful, affectionate +voice:—</p> + +<p>“You are fond of my son. Why do you like him +so much?”</p> + +<p>Derossi’s face turned the color of fire. He would +have liked to say: “I am fond of him because he +has been unfortunate; because you, his father, have +been more unfortunate than guilty, and have nobly expiated +your crime, and are a man of heart.” But he +had not the courage to say it, for at bottom he still +felt fear and almost loathing in the presence of this +man who had shed another’s blood, and had been six +years in prison. But the latter divined it all, and lowering +his voice, he said in Derossi’s ear, almost trembling +the while:—</p> + +<p>“You love the son; but you do not hate, do not +wholly despise the father, do you?”</p> + +<p>“Ah, no, no! Quite the reverse!” exclaimed Derossi, +with a soulful impulse. And then the man made +an impetuous movement, as though to throw one arm +round his neck; but he dared not, and instead he took +one of the lad’s golden curls between two of his fingers, +smoothed it out, and released it; then he placed his +hand on his mouth and kissed his palm, gazing at Derossi +with moist eyes, as though to say that this kiss +was for him. Then he took his son by the hand, and +went away at a rapid pace.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>A LITTLE DEAD BOY.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Monday, 13th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>The little boy who lived in the vegetable-vender’s +court, the one who belonged to the upper primary, and +was the companion of my brother, is dead. Schoolmistress +Delcati came in great affliction, on Saturday afternoon, +to inform the master of it; and instantly Garrone +and Coretti volunteered to carry the coffin. He was a +fine little lad. He had won the medal last week. He +was fond of my brother, and he had presented him with +a broken money-box. My mother always caressed him +when she met him. He wore a cap with two stripes +of red cloth. His father is a porter on the railway. +Yesterday (Sunday) afternoon, at half-past four +o’clock, we went to his house, to accompany him to +the church.</p> + +<p>They live on the ground floor. Many boys of the +upper primary, with their mothers, all holding candles, +and five or six teachers and several neighbors were +already collected in the courtyard. The mistress with +the red feather and Signora Delcati had gone inside, +and through an open window we beheld them weeping. +We could hear the mother of the child sobbing loudly. +Two ladies, mothers of two school companions of the +dead child, had brought two garlands of flowers.</p> + +<p>Exactly at five o’clock we set out. In front went a +boy carrying a cross, then a priest, then the coffin,—a +very, very small coffin, poor child!—covered with a +black cloth, and round it were wound the garlands of +flowers brought by the two ladies. On the black cloth, +on one side, were fastened the medal and honorable +mentions which the little boy had won in the course of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> +the year. Garrone, Coretti, and two boys from the +courtyard bore the coffin. Behind the coffin, first came +Signora Delcati, who wept as though the little dead boy +were her own; behind her the other schoolmistresses; +and behind the mistresses, the boys, among whom were +some very little ones, who carried bunches of violets in +one hand, and who stared in amazement at the bier, +while their other hand was held by their mothers, who +carried candles. I heard one of them say, “And shall +I not see him at school again?”</p> + +<p>When the coffin emerged from the court, a despairing +cry was heard from the window. It was the child’s +mother; but they made her draw back into the room +immediately. On arriving in the street, we met the +boys from a college, who were passing in double file, +and on catching sight of the coffin with the medal and +the schoolmistresses, they all pulled off their hats.</p> + +<p>Poor little boy! he went to sleep forever with his +medal. We shall never see his red cap again. He +was in perfect health; in four days he was dead. On +the last day he made an effort to rise and do his little +task in nomenclature, and he insisted on keeping his +medal on his bed for fear it would be taken from him. +No one will ever take it from you again, poor boy! +Farewell, farewell! We shall always remember thee +at the Baretti School! Sleep in peace, dear little boy!</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE EVE OF THE FOURTEENTH OF MARCH.</h3> + +<p>To-day has been more cheerful than yesterday. The +thirteenth of March! The eve of the distribution of +prizes at the Theatre Vittorio Emanuele, the greatest +and most beautiful festival of the whole year! But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +this time the boys who are to go upon the stage and +present the certificates of the prizes to the gentlemen +who are to bestow them are not to be taken at haphazard. +The head-master came in this morning, at +the close of school, and said:—</p> + +<p>“Good news, boys!” Then he called, “Coraci!” +the Calabrian. The Calabrian rose. “Would you +like to be one of those to carry the certificates of the +prizes to the authorities in the theatre to-morrow?” +The Calabrian answered that he should.</p> + +<p>“That is well," said the head-master; “then there +will also be a representative of Calabria there; and that +will be a fine thing. The municipal authorities are +desirous that this year the ten or twelve lads who hand +the prizes should be from all parts of Italy, and selected +from all the public school buildings. We have +twenty buildings, with five annexes—seven thousand +pupils. Among such a multitude there has been no +difficulty in finding one boy for each region of Italy. +Two representatives of the Islands were found in the +Torquato Tasso schoolhouse, a Sardinian, and a Sicilian; +the Boncompagni School furnished a little Florentine, +the son of a wood-carver; there is a Roman, a +native of Rome, in the Tommaseo building; several +Venetians, Lombards, and natives of Romagna have +been found; the Monviso School gives us a Neapolitan, +the son of an officer; we furnish a Genoese and a +Calabrian,—you, Coraci,—with the Piemontese: +that will make twelve. Does not this strike you as +nice? It will be your brothers from all quarters of +Italy who will give you your prizes. Look out! the +whole twelve will appear on the stage together. Receive +them with hearty applause. They are only boys, +but they represent the country just as though they were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> +men. A small tricolored flag is the symbol of Italy +as much as a huge banner, is it not?</p> + +<p>“Applaud them warmly, then. Let it be seen that +your little hearts are all aglow, that your souls of ten +years grow enthusiastic in the presence of the sacred +image of your fatherland.”</p> + +<p>Having spoken thus, he went away, and the master +said, with a smile, “So, Coraci, you are to be the +deputy from Calabria.”</p> + +<p>And then all clapped their hands and laughed; and +when we got into the street, we surrounded Coraci, +seized him by the legs, lifted him on high, and set out +to carry him in triumph, shouting, “Hurrah for the +Deputy of Calabria!” by way of making a noise, of +course; and not in jest, but quite the contrary, for the +sake of making a celebration for him, and with a good +will, for he is a boy who pleases every one; and he +smiled. And thus we bore him as far as the corner, +where we ran into a gentleman with a black beard, who +began to laugh. The Calabrian said, “That is my +father.” And then the boys placed his son in his arms +and ran away in all directions.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 435px;"> +<img src="images/deputy.jpg" width="435" height="600" alt="“HURRAH FOR THE DEPUTY OF CALABRIA!”" title="“HURRAH FOR THE DEPUTY OF CALABRIA!”" /> +<p class="caption">“HURRAH FOR THE DEPUTY OF CALABRIA!”</p> +<p class="sig"><a href="images/deputyl.jpg">View larger image.</a></p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE DISTRIBUTION OF PRIZES.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +March 14th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Towards two o’clock the vast theatre was crowded,—pit, +gallery, boxes, stage, all were thronged; thousands +of faces,—boys, gentlemen, teachers, workingmen, +women of the people, babies. There was a moving +of heads and hands, a flutter of feathers, ribbons, and +curls, and loud and merry murmur which inspired +cheerfulness. The theatre was all decorated with festoons<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +of white, red, and green cloth. In the pit two +little stairways had been erected: one on the right, +which the winners of prizes were to ascend in order to +reach the stage; the other, on the left, which they were +to descend after receiving their prizes. On the front +of the platform there was a row of red chairs; and +from the back of the one in the centre hung two laurel +crowns. At the back of the stage was a trophy of +flags; on one side stood a small green table, and upon +it lay all the certificates of premiums, tied with tricolored +ribbons. The band of music was stationed in +the pit, under the stage; the schoolmasters and mistresses +filled all one side of the first balcony, which had +been reserved for them; the benches and passages of +the pit were crammed with hundreds of boys, who were +to sing, and who had written music in their hands. +At the back and all about, masters and mistresses could +be seen going to and fro, arranging the prize scholars +in lines; and it was full of parents who were giving a +last touch to their hair and the last pull to their neckties.</p> + +<p>No sooner had I entered my box with my family +than I perceived in the opposite box the young mistress +with the red feather, who was smiling and showing +all the pretty dimples in her cheeks, and with her +my brother’s teacher and “the little nun,” dressed +wholly in black, and my kind mistress of the upper +first; but she was so pale, poor thing! and coughed so +hard, that she could be heard all over the theatre. In +the pit I instantly espied Garrone’s dear, big face and +the little blond head of Nelli, who was clinging close +to the other’s shoulder. A little further on I saw +Garoffi, with his owl’s-beak nose, who was making +great efforts to collect the printed catalogues of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +prize-winners; and he already had a large bundle of +them which he could put to some use in his bartering—we +shall find out what it is to-morrow. Near the door +was the wood-seller with his wife,—both dressed in festive +attire,—together with their boy, who has a third +prize in the second grade. I was amazed at no longer +beholding the catskin cap and the chocolate-colored +tights: on this occasion he was dressed like a little +gentleman. In one balcony I caught a momentary +glimpse of Votini, with a large lace collar; then he disappeared. +In a proscenium box, filled with people, was +the artillery captain, the father of Robetti, the boy with +the crutches who saved the child from the omnibus.</p> + +<p>On the stroke of two the band struck up, and at the +same moment the mayor, the prefect, the judge, the +<i>provveditore</i>, and many other gentlemen, all dressed in +black, mounted the stairs on the right, and seated +themselves on the red chairs at the front of the platform. +The band ceased playing. The director of +singing in the schools advanced with a <i>baton</i> in his +hand. At a signal from him all the boys in the pit +rose to their feet; at another sign they began to sing. +There were seven hundred singing a very beautiful +song,—seven hundred boys’ voices singing together; +how beautiful! All listened motionless: it was a slow, +sweet, limpid song which seemed like a church chant. +When they ceased, every one applauded; then they all +became very still. The distribution of the prizes was +about to begin. My little master of the second grade, +with his red head and his quick eyes, who was to read +the names of the prize-winners, had already advanced +to the front of the stage. The entrance of the twelve +boys who were to present the certificates was what +they were waiting for. The newspapers had already<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> +stated that there would be boys from all the provinces +of Italy. Every one knew it, and was watching for +them and gazing curiously towards the spot where +they were to enter, and the mayor and the other gentlemen +gazed also, and the whole theatre was silent.</p> + +<p>All at once the whole twelve arrived on the stage at +a run, and remained standing there in line, with a +smile. The whole theatre, three thousand persons, +sprang up simultaneously, breaking into applause which +sounded like a clap of thunder. The boys stood for a +moment as though disconcerted. “Behold Italy!” +said a voice on the stage. All at once I recognized +Coraci, the Calabrian, dressed in black as usual. A +gentleman belonging to the municipal government, who +was with us and who knew them all, pointed them +out to my mother. “That little blond is the representative +of Venice. The Roman is that tall, curly-haired +lad, yonder.” Two or three of them were dressed like +gentlemen; the others were sons of workingmen, but +all were neatly clad and clean. The Florentine, who +was the smallest, had a blue scarf round his body. +They all passed in front of the mayor, who kissed them, +one after the other, on the brow, while a gentleman +seated next to him smilingly told him the names of +their cities: “Florence, Naples, Bologna, Palermo.” +And as each passed by, the whole theatre clapped. +Then they all ran to the green table, to take the certificates. +The master began to read the list, mentioning +the schoolhouses, the classes, the names; and the +prize-winners began to mount the stage and to file past.</p> + +<p>The foremost ones had hardly reached the stage, +when behind the scenes there became audible a very, +very faint music of violins, which did not cease during +the whole time that they were filing past—a soft and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +always even air, like the murmur of many subdued +voices, the voices of all the mothers, and all the masters +and mistresses, giving counsel in concert, and beseeching +and administering loving reproofs. And +meanwhile, the prize-winners passed one by one in +front of the seated gentlemen, who handed them their +certificates, and said a word or bestowed a caress on +each.</p> + +<p>The boys in the pit and the balconies applauded +loudly every time that there passed a very small lad, +or one who seemed, from his garments, to be poor; +and also for those who had abundant curly hair, or who +were clad in red or white. Some of those who filed +past belonged to the upper primary, and once arrived +there, they became confused and did not know where +to turn, and the whole theatre laughed. One passed, +three spans high, with a big knot of pink ribbon on his +back, so that he could hardly walk, and he got entangled +in the carpet and tumbled down; and the prefect +set him on his feet again, and all laughed and clapped. +Another rolled headlong down the stairs, when descending +again to the pit: cries arose, but he had not hurt +himself. Boys of all sorts passed,—boys with roguish +faces, with frightened faces, with faces as red as cherries; +comical little fellows, who laughed in every one’s +face: and no sooner had they got back into the pit, +than they were seized upon by their fathers and +mothers, who carried them away.</p> + +<p>When our schoolhouse’s turn came, how amused I +was! Many whom I knew passed. Coretti filed by, +dressed in new clothes from head to foot, with his fine, +merry smile, which displayed all his white teeth; but +who knows how many myriagrammes of wood he had +already carried that morning! The mayor, on pre<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>senting +him with his certificate, inquired the meaning +of a red mark on his forehead, and as he did so, laid +one hand on his shoulder. I looked in the pit for his +father and mother, and saw them laughing, while they +covered their mouths with one hand. Then Derossi +passed, all dressed in bright blue, with shining buttons, +with all those golden curls, slender, easy, with his head +held high, so handsome, so sympathetic, that I could +have blown him a kiss; and all the gentlemen wanted +to speak to him and to shake his hand.</p> + +<p>Then the master cried, “Giulio Robetti!” and we +saw the captain’s son come forward on his crutches. +Hundreds of boys knew the occurrence; a rumor ran +round in an instant; a salvo of applause broke forth, +and of shouts, which made the theatre tremble: men +sprang to their feet, the ladies began to wave their +handkerchiefs, and the poor boy halted in the middle +of the stage, amazed and trembling. The mayor drew +him to him, gave him his prize and a kiss, and removing +the two laurel crowns which were hanging from the +back of the chair, he strung them on the cross-bars of +his crutches. Then he accompanied him to the proscenium +box, where his father, the captain, was seated; +and the latter lifted him bodily and set him down inside, +amid an indescribable tumult of bravos and hurrahs.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the soft and gentle music of the violins +continued, and the boys continued to file by,—those +from the Schoolhouse della Consolata, nearly all the +sons of petty merchants; those from the Vanchiglia +School, the sons of workingmen; those from the Boncompagni +School, many of whom were the sons of peasants; +those of the Rayneri, which was the last. As +soon as it was over, the seven hundred boys in the pit +sang another very beautiful song; then the mayor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> +spoke, and after him the judge, who terminated his +discourse by saying to the boys:—</p> + +<p>“But do not leave this place without sending a +salute to those who toil so hard for you; who have consecrated +to you all the strength of their intelligence +and of their hearts; who live and die for you. There +they are; behold them!” And he pointed to the balcony +of teachers. Then, from the balconies, from the +pit, from the boxes, the boys rose, and extended their +arms towards the masters and mistresses, with a shout, +and the latter responded by waving their hands, their +hats, and handkerchiefs, as they all stood up, in their +emotion. After this, the band played once more, and +the audience sent a last noisy salute to the twelve lads +of all the provinces of Italy, who presented themselves +at the front of the stage, all drawn up in line, with +their hands interlaced, beneath a shower of flowers.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>STRIFE.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Monday, 26th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>However, it is not out of envy, because he got the +prize and I did not, that I quarrelled with Coretti this +morning. It was not out of envy. But I was in the +wrong. The teacher had placed him beside me, and I +was writing in my copy-book for calligraphy; he jogged +my elbow and made me blot and soil the monthly story, +<i>Blood of Romagna</i>, which I was to copy for the little +mason, who is ill. I got angry, and said a rude word +to him. He replied, with a smile, “I did not do it +intentionally.” I should have believed him, because I +know him; but it displeased me that he should smile, +and I thought:—</p> + +<p>“Oh! now that he has had a prize, he has grown<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> +saucy!” and a little while afterwards, to revenge myself, +I gave him a jog which made him spoil his page. +Then, all crimson with wrath, “You did that on purpose,” +he said to me, and raised his hand: the teacher +saw it; he drew it back. But he added:—</p> + +<p>“I shall wait for you outside!” I felt ill at ease; +my wrath had simmered away; I repented. No; +Coretti could not have done it intentionally. He is +good, I thought. I recalled how I had seen him in his +own home; how he had worked and helped his sick +mother; and then how heartily he had been welcomed +in my house; and how he had pleased my father. +What would I not have given not to have said that +word to him; not to have insulted him thus! And I +thought of the advice that my father had given to me: +“Have you done wrong?”—“Yes.”—“Then beg his +pardon.” But this I did not dare to do; I was ashamed +to humiliate myself. I looked at him out of the corner +of my eye, and I saw his coat ripped on the shoulder,—perhaps +because he had carried too much wood,—and +I felt that I loved him; and I said to myself, “Courage!” +But the words, “excuse me,” stuck in my +throat. He looked at me askance from time to time, +and he seemed to me to be more grieved than angry. +But at such times I looked malevolently at him, to +show him that I was not afraid.</p> + +<p>He repeated, “We shall meet outside!” And I +said, “We shall meet outside!” But I was thinking +of what my father had once said to me, “If you are +wronged, defend yourself, but do not fight.”</p> + +<p>And I said to myself, “I will defend myself, but I +will not fight.” But I was discontented, and I no +longer listened to the master. At last the moment +of dismissal arrived. When I was alone in the street<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> +I perceived that he was following me. I stopped and +waited for him, ruler in hand. He approached; I +raised my ruler.</p> + +<p>“No, Enrico,” he said, with his kindly smile, +waving the ruler aside with his hand; “let us be +friends again, as before.”</p> + +<p>I stood still in amazement, and then I felt what +seemed to be a hand dealing a push on my shoulders, +and I found myself in his arms. He kissed me, and +said:—</p> + +<p>“We’ll have no more altercations between us, will +we?”</p> + +<p>“Never again! never again!” I replied. And +we parted content. But when I returned home, and +told my father all about it, thinking to give him +pleasure, his face clouded over, and he said:—</p> + +<p>“You should have been the first to offer your hand, +since you were in the wrong.” Then he added, “You +should not raise your ruler at a comrade who is better +than you are—at the son of a soldier!” and snatching +the ruler from my hand, he broke it in two, and hurled +it against the wall.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>MY SISTER.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Friday, 24th.<br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Why, Enrico, after our father has already reproved you +for having behaved badly to Coretti, were you so unkind +to me? You cannot imagine the pain that you caused me. +Do you not know that when you were a baby, I stood for +hours and hours beside your cradle, instead of playing with +my companions, and that when you were ill, I got out of +bed every night to feel whether your forehead was burning? +Do you not know, you who grieve your sister, that if a +tremendous misfortune should overtake us, I should be a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> +mother to you and love you like my son? Do you not +know that when our father and mother are no longer here, +I shall be your best friend, the only person with whom you +can talk about our dead and your infancy, and that, should +it be necessary, I shall work for you, Enrico, to earn your +bread and to pay for your studies, and that I shall always +love you when you are grown up, that I shall follow you +in thought when you go far away, always because we grew +up together and have the same blood? O Enrico, be sure of +this when you are a man, that if misfortune happens to +you, if you are alone, be very sure that you will seek me, +that you will come to me and say: “Silvia, sister, let me +stay with you; let us talk of the days when we were happy—do +you remember? Let us talk of our mother, of our +home, of those beautiful days that are so far away.” O +Enrico, you will always find your sister with her arms wide +open. Yes, dear Enrico; and you must forgive me for the +reproof that I am administering to you now. I shall never +recall any wrong of yours; and if you should give me other +sorrows, what matters it? You will always be my brother, +the same brother; I shall never recall you otherwise than as +having held you in my arms when a baby, of having loved +our father and mother with you, of having watched you grow +up, of having been for years your most faithful companion. +But do you write me a kind word in this same copy-book, +and I will come for it and read it before the evening. In +the meanwhile, to show you that I am not angry with you, +and perceiving that you are weary, I have copied for you the +monthly story, <i>Blood of Romagna</i>, which you were to have +copied for the little sick mason. Look in the left drawer +of your table; I have been writing all night, while you were +asleep. Write me a kind word, Enrico, I beseech you.</p> + +<p class="sig"> +Thy Sister Silvia.<br /> +</p> + +<p>I am not worthy to kiss your hands.—<span class="smcap">Enrico.</span></p></div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>BLOOD OF ROMAGNA.</h3> + +<p class="title">(<i>Monthly Story.</i>)</p> + +<p>That evening the house of Ferruccio was more silent +than was its wont. The father, who kept a little +haberdasher’s shop, had gone to Forli to make some +purchases, and his wife had accompanied him, with +Luigina, a baby, whom she was taking to a doctor, +that he might operate on a diseased eye; and they +were not to return until the following morning. It +was almost midnight. The woman who came to do +the work by day had gone away at nightfall. In the +house there was only the grandmother with the paralyzed +legs, and Ferruccio, a lad of thirteen. It was +a small house of but one story, situated on the highway, +at a gunshot’s distance from a village not far +from Forli, a town of Romagna; and there was near +it only an uninhabited house, ruined two months +previously by fire, on which the sign of an inn was +still to be seen. Behind the tiny house was a small +garden surrounded by a hedge, upon which a rustic +gate opened; the door of the shop, which also served +as the house door, opened on the highway. All +around spread the solitary campagna, vast cultivated +fields, planted with mulberry-trees.</p> + +<p>It was nearly midnight; it was raining and blowing. +Ferruccio and his grandmother, who was still up, were +in the dining-room, between which and the garden +there was a small, closet-like room, encumbered with +old furniture. Ferruccio had only returned home at +eleven o’clock, after an absence of many hours, and +his grandmother had watched for him with eyes wide<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> +open, filled with anxiety, nailed to the large arm-chair, +upon which she was accustomed to pass the entire day, +and often the whole night as well, since a difficulty of +breathing did not allow her to lie down in bed.</p> + +<p>It was raining, and the wind beat the rain against +the window-panes: the night was very dark. Ferruccio +had returned weary, muddy, with his jacket +torn, and the livid mark of a stone on his forehead. +He had engaged in a stone fight with his comrades; +they had come to blows, as usual; and in addition he +had gambled, and lost all his soldi, and left his cap in +a ditch.</p> + +<p>Although the kitchen was illuminated only by a +small oil lamp, placed on the corner of the table, near +the arm-chair, his poor grandmother had instantly perceived +the wretched condition of her grandson, and +had partly divined, partly brought him to confess, his +misdeeds.</p> + +<p>She loved this boy with all her soul. When she had +learned all, she began to cry.</p> + +<p>“Ah, no!” she said, after a long silence, “you +have no heart for your poor grandmother. You have +no feeling, to take advantage in this manner of the +absence of your father and mother, to cause me sorrow. +You have left me alone the whole day long. +You had not the slightest compassion. Take care, Ferruccio! +You are entering on an evil path which will +lead you to a sad end. I have seen others begin like +you, and come to a bad end. If you begin by running +away from home, by getting into brawls with the other +boys, by losing soldi, then, gradually, from stone fights +you will come to knives, from gambling to other vices, +and from other vices to—theft.”</p> + +<p><a name="tn177" id="tn177"></a><ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: original has 'Feruccio'">Ferruccio</ins> stood listening three paces away, leaning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> +against a cupboard, with his chin on his breast and +his brows knit, being still hot with wrath from the +brawl. A lock of fine chestnut hair fell across his +forehead, and his blue eyes were motionless.</p> + +<p>“From gambling to theft!” repeated his grandmother, +continuing to weep. “Think of it, Ferruccio! +Think of that scourge of the country about here, of +that Vito Mozzoni, who is now playing the vagabond in +the town; who, at the age of twenty-four, has been +twice in prison, and has made that poor woman, his +mother, die of a broken heart—I knew her; and his +father has fled to Switzerland in despair. Think of +that bad fellow, whose salute your father is ashamed +to return: he is always roaming with miscreants worse +than himself, and some day he will go to the galleys. +Well, I knew him as a boy, and he began as you are +doing. Reflect that you will reduce your father and +mother to the same end as his.”</p> + +<p>Ferruccio held his peace. He was not at all remorseful +at heart; quite the reverse: his misdemeanors arose +rather from superabundance of life and audacity than +from an evil mind; and his father had managed him +badly in precisely this particular, that, holding him +capable, at bottom, of the finest sentiments, and also, +when put to the proof, of a vigorous and generous action, +he left the bridle loose upon his neck, and waited +for him to acquire judgment for himself. The lad +was good rather than perverse, but stubborn; and it +was hard for him, even when his heart was oppressed +with repentance, to allow those good words which win +pardon to escape his lips, “If I have done wrong, I +will do so no more; I promise it; forgive me.” His +soul was full of tenderness at times; but pride would +not permit it to manifest itself.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Ah, Ferruccio,” continued his grandmother, perceiving +that he was thus dumb, “not a word of penitence +do you utter to me! You see to what a condition +I am reduced, so that I am as good as actually buried. +You ought not to have the heart to make me suffer so, +to make the mother of your mother, who is so old and +so near her last day, weep; the poor grandmother who +has always loved you so, who rocked you all night long, +night after night, when you were a baby a few months +old, and who did not eat for amusing you,—you do +not know that! I always said, ‘This boy will be +my consolation!’ And now you are killing me! I +would willingly give the little life that remains to me if +I could see you become a good boy, and an obedient +one, as you were in those days when I used to lead you +to the sanctuary—do you remember, Ferruccio? You +used to fill my pockets with pebbles and weeds, and I +carried you home in my arms, fast asleep. You used +to love your poor grandma then. And now I am a +paralytic, and in need of your affection as of the air to +breathe, since I have no one else in the world, poor, +half-dead woman that I am: my God!”</p> + +<p>Ferruccio was on the point of throwing himself on his +grandmother, overcome with emotion, when he fancied +that he heard a slight noise, a creaking in the small +adjoining room, the one which opened on the garden. +But he could not make out whether it was the window-shutters +rattling in the wind, or something else.</p> + +<p>He bent his head and listened.</p> + +<p>The rain beat down noisily.</p> + +<p>The sound was repeated. His grandmother heard it +also.</p> + +<p>“What is it?” asked the grandmother, in perturbation, +after a momentary pause.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span></p> + +<p>“The rain,” murmured the boy.</p> + +<p>“Then, Ferruccio,” said the old woman, drying +her eyes, “you promise me that you will be good, +that you will not make your poor grandmother weep +again—”</p> + +<p>Another faint sound interrupted her.</p> + +<p>“But it seems to me that it is not the rain!” she +exclaimed, turning pale. “Go and see!”</p> + +<p>But she instantly added, “No; remain here!” and +seized Ferruccio by the hand.</p> + +<p>Both remained as they were, and held their breath. +All they heard was the sound of the water.</p> + +<p>Then both were seized with a shivering fit.</p> + +<p>It seemed to both that they heard footsteps in the +next room.</p> + +<p>“Who’s there?” demanded the lad, recovering his +breath with an effort.</p> + +<p>No one replied.</p> + +<p>“Who is it?” asked Ferruccio again, chilled with +terror.</p> + +<p>But hardly had he pronounced these words when +both uttered a shriek of terror. Two men sprang into +the room. One of them grasped the boy and placed +one hand over his mouth; the other clutched the old +woman by the throat. The first said:—</p> + +<p>“Silence, unless you want to die!”</p> + +<p>The second:—</p> + +<p>“Be quiet!” and raised aloft a knife.</p> + +<p>Both had dark cloths over their faces, with two holes +for the eyes.</p> + +<p>For a moment nothing was audible but the gasping +breath of all four, the patter of the rain; the old woman +emitted frequent rattles from her throat, and her eyes +were starting from her head.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p> + +<p>The man who held the boy said in his ear, “Where +does your father keep his money?”</p> + +<p>The lad replied in a thread of a voice, with chattering +teeth, “Yonder—in the cupboard.”</p> + +<p>“Come with me,” said the man.</p> + +<p>And he dragged him into the closet room, holding +him securely by the throat. There was a dark lantern +standing on the floor.</p> + +<p>“Where is the cupboard?” he demanded.</p> + +<p>The suffocating boy pointed to the cupboard.</p> + +<p>Then, in order to make sure of the boy, the man +flung him on his knees in front of the cupboard, and, +pressing his neck closely between his own legs, in such +a way that he could throttle him if he shouted, and +holding his knife in his teeth and his lantern in one +hand, with the other he pulled from his pocket a +pointed iron, drove it into the lock, fumbled about, +broke it, threw the doors wide open, tumbled everything +over in a perfect fury of haste, filled his pockets, +shut the cupboard again, opened it again, made another +search; then he seized the boy by the windpipe again, +and pushed him to where the other man was still grasping +the old woman, who was convulsed, with her head +thrown back and her mouth open.</p> + +<p>The latter asked in a low voice, “Did you find it?”</p> + +<p>His companion replied, “I found it.”</p> + +<p>And he added, “See to the door.”</p> + +<p>The one that was holding the old woman ran to the +door of the garden to see if there were any one there, +and called in from the little room, in a voice that resembled +a hiss, “Come!”</p> + +<p>The one who remained behind, and who was still +holding Ferruccio fast, showed his knife to the boy and +the old woman, who had opened her eyes again, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +said, “Not a sound, or I’ll come back and cut your +throat.”</p> + +<p>And he glared at the two for a moment.</p> + +<p>At this juncture, a song sung by many voices became +audible far off on the highway.</p> + +<p>The robber turned his head hastily toward the door, +and the violence of the movement caused the cloth to +fall from his face.</p> + +<p>The old woman gave vent to a shriek; “Mozzoni!”</p> + +<p>“Accursed woman,” roared the robber, on finding +himself recognized, “you shall die!”</p> + +<p>And he hurled himself, with his knife raised, against +the old woman, who swooned on the spot.</p> + +<p>The assassin dealt the blow.</p> + +<p>But Ferruccio, with an exceedingly rapid movement, +and uttering a cry of desperation, had rushed to his +grandmother, and covered her body with his own. +The assassin fled, stumbling against the table and overturning +the light, which was extinguished.</p> + +<p>The boy slipped slowly from above his grandmother, +fell on his knees, and remained in that attitude, with +his arms around her body and his head upon her +breast.</p> + +<p>Several moments passed; it was very dark; the song +of the peasants gradually died away in the campagna. +The old woman recovered her senses.</p> + +<p>“Ferruccio!” she cried, in a voice that was barely +intelligible, with chattering teeth.</p> + +<p>“Grandmamma!” replied the lad.</p> + +<p>The old woman made an effort to speak; but terror +had paralyzed her tongue.</p> + +<p>She remained silent for a while, trembling violently.</p> + +<p>Then she succeeded in asking:—</p> + +<p>“They are not here now?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“They did not kill me,” murmured the old woman +in a stifled voice.</p> + +<p>“No; you are safe,” said Ferruccio, in a weak voice. +“You are safe, dear grandmother. They carried off +the money. But daddy had taken nearly all of it with +him.”</p> + +<p>His grandmother drew a deep breath.</p> + +<p>“Grandmother,” said Ferruccio, still kneeling, and +pressing her close to him, “dear grandmother, you love +me, don’t you?”</p> + +<p>“O Ferruccio! my poor little son!” she replied, +placing her hands on his head; “what a fright you +must have had!—O Lord God of mercy!—Light the +lamp. No; let us still remain in the dark! I am still +afraid.”</p> + +<p>“Grandmother,” resumed the boy, “I have always +caused you grief.”</p> + +<p>“No, Ferruccio, you must not say such things; I +shall never think of that again; I have forgotten everything, +I love you so dearly!”</p> + +<p>“I have always caused you grief,” pursued Ferruccio, +with difficulty, and his voice quivered; “but I have +always loved you. Do you forgive me?—Forgive me, +grandmother.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, my son, I forgive you with all my heart. +Think, how could I help forgiving you! Rise from +your knees, my child. I will never scold you again. +You are so good, so good! Let us light the lamp. +Let us take courage a little. Rise, Ferruccio.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks, grandmother,” said the boy, and his voice +was still weaker. “Now—I am content. You will +remember me, grandmother—will you not? You +will always remember me—your Ferruccio?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“My Ferruccio!” exclaimed his grandmother, +amazed and alarmed, as she laid her hands on his +shoulders and bent her head, as though to look him in +his face.</p> + +<p>“Remember me,” murmured the boy once more, in +a voice that seemed like a breath. “Give a kiss to +my mother—to my father—to Luigina.—Good by, +grandmother.”</p> + +<p>“In the name of Heaven, what is the matter with +you?” shrieked the old woman, feeling the boy’s head +anxiously, as it lay upon her knees; and then with all +the power of voice of which her throat was capable, +and in desperation: “Ferruccio! Ferruccio! Ferruccio! +My child! My love! Angels of Paradise, come to +my aid!”</p> + +<p>But Ferruccio made no reply. The little hero, the +saviour of the mother of his mother, stabbed by a blow +from a knife in the back, had rendered up his beautiful +and daring soul to God.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE LITTLE MASON ON HIS SICK-BED.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Tuesday, 18th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>The poor little mason is seriously ill; the master told +us to go and see him; and Garrone, Derossi, and I +agreed to go together. Stardi would have come also, +but as the teacher had assigned us the description of +<i>The Monument to Cavour</i>, he told us that he must go +and see the monument, in order that his description +might be more exact. So, by way of experiment, we +invited that puffed-up fellow, Nobis, who replied “No,” +and nothing more. Votini also excused himself, perhaps +because he was afraid of soiling his clothes with plaster.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p> + +<p>We went there when we came out of school at four +o’clock. It was raining in torrents. On the street +Garrone halted, and said, with his mouth full of +bread:—</p> + +<p>“What shall I buy?” and he rattled a couple of soldi +in his pocket. We each contributed two soldi, and +purchased three huge oranges. We ascended to the +garret. At the door Derossi removed his medal and +put it in his pocket. I asked him why.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” he answered; “in order not to +have the air: it strikes me as more delicate to go in +without my medal.” We knocked; the father, that +big man who looks like a giant, opened to us; his face +was distorted so that he appeared terrified.</p> + +<p>“Who are you?” he demanded. Garrone replied:—</p> + +<p>“We are Antonio’s schoolmates, and we have +brought him three oranges.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, poor Tonino!” exclaimed the mason, shaking +his head, “I fear that he will never eat your oranges!” +and he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He +made us come in. We entered an attic room, where we +saw “the little mason” asleep in a little iron bed; his +mother hung dejectedly over the bed, with her face in +her hands, and she hardly turned to look at us; on one +side hung brushes, a trowel, and a plaster-sieve; over +the feet of the sick boy was spread the mason’s jacket, +white with lime. The poor boy was emaciated; very, +very white; his nose was pointed, and his breath was +short. O dear Tonino, my little comrade! you who +were so kind and merry, how it pains me! what would +I not give to see you make the hare’s face once more, +poor little mason! Garrone laid an orange on his pillow, +close to his face; the odor waked him; he grasped<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +it instantly; then let go of it, and gazed intently at +Garrone.</p> + +<p>“It is I,” said the latter; “Garrone: do you +know me?” He smiled almost imperceptibly, lifted his +stubby hand with difficulty from the bed and held it out +to Garrone, who took it between his, and laid it against +his cheek, saying:—</p> + +<p>“Courage, courage, little mason; you are going +to get well soon and come back to school, and the +master will put you next to me; will that please +you?”</p> + +<p>But the little mason made no reply. His mother +burst into sobs: “Oh, my poor Tonino! My poor +Tonino! He is so brave and good, and God is going +to take him from us!”</p> + +<p>“Silence!” cried the mason; “silence, for the love +of God, or I shall lose my reason!”</p> + +<p>Then he said to us, with anxiety: “Go, go, boys, +thanks; go! what do you want to do here? Thanks; +go home!” The boy had closed his eyes again, and +appeared to be dead.</p> + +<p>“Do you need any assistance?” asked Garrone.</p> + +<p>“No, my good boy, thanks,” the mason answered. +And so saying, he pushed us out on the landing, and +shut the door. But we were not half-way down the +stairs, when we heard him calling, “Garrone! Garrone!”</p> + +<p>We all three mounted the stairs once more in haste.</p> + +<p>“Garrone!” shouted the mason, with a changed +countenance, “he has called you by name; it is two +days since he spoke; he has called you twice; he wants +you; come quickly! Ah, holy God, if this is only a +good sign!”</p> + +<p>“Farewell for the present,” said Garrone to us; “I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +shall remain,” and he ran in with the father. Derossi’s +eyes were full of tears. I said to him:—</p> + +<p>“Are you crying for the little mason? He has +spoken; he will recover.”</p> + +<p>“I believe it,” replied Derossi; “but I was not +thinking of him. I was thinking how good Garrone is, +and what a beautiful soul he has.”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>COUNT CAVOUR.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Wednesday, 29th.<br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>You are to make a description of the monument to Count +Cavour. You can do it. But who was Count Cavour? +You cannot understand at present. For the present this is +all you know: he was for many years the prime minister of +Piemont. It was he who sent the Piemontese army to the +Crimea to raise once more, with the victory of the Cernaia, +our military glory, which had fallen with the defeat at +Novara; it was he who made one hundred and fifty thousand +Frenchmen descend from the Alps to chase the Austrians +from Lombardy; it was he who governed Italy in the +most solemn period of our revolution; who gave, during +those years, the most potent impulse to the holy enterprise +of the unification of our country,—he with his luminous +mind, with his invincible perseverance, with his more than +human industry. Many generals have passed terrible hours +on the field of battle; but he passed more terrible ones in his +cabinet, when his enormous work might suffer destruction at +any moment, like a fragile edifice at the tremor of an earthquake. +Hours, nights of struggle and anguish did he pass, sufficient +to make him issue from it with reason distorted and +death in his heart. And it was this gigantic and stormy +work which shortened his life by twenty years. Nevertheless, +devoured by the fever which was to cast him into his grave, +he yet contended desperately with the malady in order to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +accomplish something for his country. “It is strange,” he +said sadly on his death-bed, “I no longer know how to read; +I can no longer read.”</p> + +<p>While they were bleeding him, and the fever was increasing, +he was thinking of his country, and he said imperiously: +“Cure me; my mind is clouding over; I have need of all +my faculties to manage important affairs.” When he was +already reduced to extremities, and the whole city was in a +tumult, and the king stood at his bedside, he said anxiously, +“I have many things to say to you, Sire, many things to +show you; but I am ill; I cannot, I cannot;” and he was in +despair.</p> + +<p>And his feverish thoughts hovered ever round the State, +round the new Italian provinces which had been united with +us, round the many things which still remained to be done. +When delirium seized him, “Educate the children!” he exclaimed, +between his gasps for breath,—“educate the children +and the young people—govern with liberty!”</p> + +<p>His delirium increased; death hovered over him, and with +burning words he invoked General Garibaldi, with whom he +had had disagreements, and Venice and Rome, which were +not yet free: he had vast visions of the future of Italy and +of Europe; he dreamed of a foreign invasion; he inquired +where the corps of the army were, and the generals; he still +trembled for us, for his people. His great sorrow was not, +you understand, that he felt that his life was going, but to +see himself fleeing his country, which still had need of him, +and for which he had, in a few years, worn out the measureless +forces of his miraculous organism. He died with the +battle-cry in his throat, and his death was as great as his +life. Now reflect a little, Enrico, what sort of a thing is our +labor, which nevertheless so weighs us down; what are our +griefs, our death itself, in the face of the toils, the terrible +anxieties, the tremendous agonies of these men upon whose +hearts rests a world! Think of this, my son, when you pass +before that marble image, and say to it, “Glory!” in your +heart.</p> + +<p class="sig"> +Thy Father.<br /> +</p></div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="APRIL" id="APRIL"></a>APRIL.</h2> + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<h3>SPRING.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Saturday, 1st.<br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> first of April! Only three months more! This +has been one of the most beautiful mornings of the +year. I was happy in school because Coretti told me +to come day after to-morrow to see the king make his +entrance with his father, <i>who knows him</i>, and because +my mother had promised to take me the same day to +visit the Infant Asylum in the Corso Valdocco. I was +pleased, too, because the little mason is better, and +because the teacher said to my father yesterday evening +as he was passing, “He is doing well; he is doing +well.”</p> + +<p>And then it was a beautiful spring morning. From +the school windows we could see the blue sky, the trees +of the garden all covered with buds, and the wide-open +windows of the houses, with their boxes and vases +already growing green. The master did not laugh, because +he never laughs; but he was in a good humor, +so that that perpendicular wrinkle hardly ever appeared +on his brow; and he explained a problem on the blackboard, +and jested. And it was plain that he felt a +pleasure in breathing the air of the gardens which +entered through the open window, redolent with the +fresh odor of earth and leaves, which suggested +thoughts of country rambles.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span></p> + +<p>While he was explaining, we could hear in a neighboring +street a blacksmith hammering on his anvil, and +in the house opposite, a woman singing to lull her baby +to sleep; far away, in the Cernaia barracks, the trumpets +were sounding. Every one appeared pleased, even +Stardi. At a certain moment the blacksmith began to +hammer more vigorously, the woman to sing more +loudly. The master paused and lent an ear. Then +he said, slowly, as he gazed out of the window:—</p> + +<p>“The smiling sky, a singing mother, an honest man +at work, boys at study,—these are beautiful things.”</p> + +<p>When we emerged from the school, we saw that +every one else was cheerful also. All walked in a line, +stamping loudly with their feet, and humming, as +though on the eve of a four days’ vacation; the +schoolmistresses were playful; the one with the red +feather tripped along behind the children like a schoolgirl; +the parents of the boys were chatting together +and smiling, and Crossi’s mother, the vegetable-vender, +had so many bunches of violets in her basket, that they +filled the whole large hall with perfume.</p> + +<p>I have never felt such happiness as this morning on +catching sight of my mother, who was waiting for me +in the street. And I said to her as I ran to meet +her:—</p> + +<p>“Oh, I am happy! what is it that makes me so happy +this morning?” And my mother answered me with a +smile that it was the beautiful season and a good conscience.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>KING UMBERTO.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Monday, 3d.<br /> +</p> + +<p>At ten o’clock precisely my father saw from the +window Coretti, the wood-seller, and his son waiting +for me in the square, and said to me:—</p> + +<p>“There they are, Enrico; go and see your king.”</p> + +<p>I went like a flash. Both father and son were even +more alert than usual, and they never seemed to me +to resemble each other so strongly as this morning. +The father wore on his jacket the medal for valor between +two commemorative medals, and his mustaches +were curled and as pointed as two pins.</p> + +<p>We at once set out for the railway station, where +the king was to arrive at half-past ten. Coretti, the +father, smoked his pipe and rubbed his hands. “Do +you know,” said he, “I have not seen him since the +war of ’sixty-six? A trifle of fifteen years and six +months. First, three years in France, and then at +Mondovì, and here, where I might have seen him, I +have never had the good luck of being in the city when +he came. Such a combination of circumstances!”</p> + +<p>He called the King “Umberto,” like a comrade. +Umberto commanded the 16th division; Umberto was +twenty-two years and so many days old; Umberto +mounted a horse thus and so.</p> + +<p>“Fifteen years!” he said vehemently, accelerating +his pace. “I really have a great desire to see him +again. I left him a prince; I see him once more, a +king. And I, too, have changed. From a soldier I +have become a hawker of wood.” And he laughed.</p> + +<p>His son asked him, “If he were to see you, would he +remember you?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>He began to laugh.</p> + +<p>“You are crazy!” he answered. “That’s quite another +thing. He, Umberto, was one single man; we +were as numerous as flies. And then, he never looked +at us one by one.”</p> + +<p>We turned into the Corso Vittorio Emanuele; there +were many people on their way to the station. A company +of Alpine soldiers passed with their trumpets. +Two armed policemen passed by on horseback at a gallop. +The day was serene and brilliant.</p> + +<p>“Yes!” exclaimed the elder Coretti, growing animated, +“it is a real pleasure to me to see him once +more, the general of my division. Ah, how quickly +I have grown old! It seems as though it were only +the other day that I had my knapsack on my shoulders +and my gun in my hands, at that affair of the 24th +of June, when we were on the point of coming to +blows. Umberto was going to and fro with his officers, +while the cannon were thundering in the distance; +and every one was gazing at him and saying, ‘May +there not be a bullet for him also!’ I was a thousand +miles from thinking that I should soon find myself so +near him, in front of the lances of the Austrian uhlans; +actually, only four paces from each other, boys. That +was a fine day; the sky was like a mirror; but so hot! +Let us see if we can get in.”</p> + +<p>We had arrived at the station; there was a great +crowd,—carriages, policemen, carabineers, societies +with banners. A regimental band was playing. The +elder Coretti attempted to enter the portico, but he was +stopped. Then it occurred to him to force his way +into the front row of the crowd which formed an opening +at the entrance; and making way with his elbow, +he succeeded in thrusting us forward also. But the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> +undulating throng flung us hither and thither a little. +The wood-seller got his eye upon the first pillar of the +portico, where the police did not allow any one to stand; +“Come with me,” he said suddenly, dragging us by +the hand; and he crossed the empty space in two bounds, +and went and planted himself there, with his back against +the wall.</p> + +<p>A police brigadier instantly hurried up and said to +him, “You can’t stand here.”</p> + +<p>“I belong to the fourth battalion of forty-nine,” +replied Coretti, touching his medal.</p> + +<p>The brigadier glanced at it, and said, “Remain.”</p> + +<p>“Didn’t I say so!” exclaimed Coretti triumphantly; +“it’s a magic word, that fourth of the forty-ninth! +Haven’t I the right to see my general with some little +comfort,—I, who was in that squadron? I saw him +close at hand then; it seems right that I should see him +close at hand now. And I say general! He was my +battalion commander for a good half-hour; for at such +moments he commanded the battalion himself, while it +was in the heart of things, and not Major Ubrich, by +Heavens!”</p> + +<p>In the meantime, in the reception-room and outside, +a great mixture of gentlemen and officers was visible, +and in front of the door, the carriages, with the lackeys +dressed in red, were drawn up in a line.</p> + +<p>Coretti asked his father whether Prince Umberto had +his sword in his hand when he was with the regiment.</p> + +<p>“He would certainly have had his sword in his +hand,” the latter replied, “to ward off a blow from a +lance, which might strike him as well as another. Ah! +those unchained demons! They came down on us like +the wrath of God; they descended on us. They swept +between the groups, the squadrons, the cannon, as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> +though tossed by a hurricane, crushing down everything. +There was a whirl of light cavalry of Alessandria, +of lancers of Foggia, of infantry, of sharpshooters, +a pandemonium in which nothing could any +longer be understood. I heard the shout, ‘Your Highness! +your Highness!’ I saw the lowered lances +approaching; we discharged our guns; a cloud of +smoke hid everything. Then the smoke cleared away. +The ground was covered with horses and uhlans, +wounded and dead. I turned round, and beheld in +our midst Umberto, on horseback, gazing tranquilly +about, with the air of demanding, ‘Have any of my +lads received a scratch?’ And we shouted to him, +‘Hurrah!’ right in his face, like madmen. Heavens, +what a moment that was! Here’s the train coming!”</p> + +<p>The band struck up; the officers hastened forward; +the crowd elevated themselves on tiptoe.</p> + +<p>“Eh, he won’t come out in a hurry,” said a policeman; +“they are presenting him with an address now.”</p> + +<p>The elder Coretti was beside himself with impatience.</p> + +<p>“Ah! when I think of it,” he said, “I always see him +there. Of course, there is cholera and there are earthquakes; +and in them, too, he bears himself bravely; +but I always have him before my mind as I saw him +then, among us, with that tranquil face. I am sure +that he too recalls the fourth of the forty-ninth, even +now that he is King; and that it would give him pleasure +to have for once, at a table together, all those whom +he saw about him at such moments. Now, he has generals, +and great gentlemen, and courtiers; then, there +was no one but us poor soldiers. If we could only exchange +a few words alone! Our general of twenty-two; +our prince, who was intrusted to our bayonets! +I have not seen him for fifteen years. Our Umberto!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> +that’s what he is! Ah! that music stirs my blood, on +my word of honor.”</p> + +<p>An outburst of shouts interrupted him; thousands +of hats rose in the air; four gentlemen dressed in +black got into the first carriage.</p> + +<p>“’Tis he!” cried Coretti, and stood as though enchanted.</p> + +<p>Then he said softly, “Madonna mia, how gray he +has grown!”</p> + +<p>We all three uncovered our heads; the carriage advanced +slowly through the crowd, who shouted and +waved their hats. I looked at the elder Coretti. He +seemed to me another man; he seemed to have become +taller, graver, rather pale, and fastened bolt upright +against the pillar.</p> + +<p>The carriage arrived in front of us, a pace distant +from the pillar. “Hurrah!” shouted many voices.</p> + +<p>“Hurrah!” shouted Coretti, after the others.</p> + +<p>The King glanced at his face, and his eye dwelt for +a moment on his three medals.</p> + +<p>Then Coretti lost his head, and roared, “The fourth +battalion of the forty-ninth!”</p> + +<p>The King, who had turned away, turned towards us +again, and looking Coretti straight in the eye, reached +his hand out of the carriage.</p> + +<p>Coretti gave one leap forwards and clasped it. The +carriage passed on; the crowd broke in and separated +us; we lost sight of the elder Coretti. But it was only +for a moment. We found him again directly, panting, +with wet eyes, calling for his son by name, and holding +his hand on high. His son flew towards him, and he +said, “Here, little one, while my hand is still warm!” +and he passed his hand over the boy’s face, saying, +“This is a caress from the King.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>And there he stood, as though in a dream, with his +eyes fixed on the distant carriage, smiling, with his +pipe in his hand, in the centre of a group of curious +people, who were staring at him. “He’s one of the +fourth battalion of the forty-ninth!” they said. “He +is a soldier that knows the King.” “And the King +recognized him.” “And he offered him his hand.” +“He gave the King a petition,” said one, more loudly.</p> + +<p>“No,” replied Coretti, whirling round abruptly; “I +did not give him any petition. There is something +else that I would give him, if he were to ask it of me.”</p> + +<p>They all stared at him.</p> + +<p>And he said simply, “My blood.”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE INFANT ASYLUM.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Tuesday, 4th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>After breakfast yesterday my mother took me, as +she had promised, to the Infant Asylum in the Corso +Valdocco, in order to recommend to the directress a +little sister of Precossi. I had never seen an asylum. +How much amused I was! There were two hundred +of them, boy-babies and girl-babies, and so small that +the children in our lower primary schools are men in +comparison.</p> + +<p>We arrived just as they were entering the refectory +in two files, where there were two very long tables, +with a great many round holes, and in each hole a +black bowl filled with rice and beans, and a tin spoon +beside it. On entering, some grew confused and +remained on the floor until the mistresses ran and +picked them up. Many halted in front of a bowl, +thinking it was their proper place, and had already<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> +swallowed a spoonful, when a mistress arrived and said, +“Go on!” and then they advanced three or four paces +and got down another spoonful, and then advanced +again, until they reached their own places, after +having fraudulently disposed of half a portion. At last, +by dint of pushing and crying, “Make haste! make +haste!” they were all got into order, and the prayer +was begun. But all those on the inner line, who had +to turn their backs on the bowls for the prayer, twisted +their heads round so that they could keep an eye on +them, lest some one might meddle; and then they +said their prayer thus, with hands clasped and their +eyes on the ceiling, but with their hearts on their food. +Then they set to eating. Ah, what a charming sight +it was! One ate with two spoons, another with his +hands; many picked up the beans one by one, and +thrust them into their pockets; others wrapped them +tightly in their little aprons, and pounded them to +reduce them to a paste. There were even some who +did not eat, because they were watching the flies +flying, and others coughed and sprinkled a shower +of rice all around them. It resembled a poultry-yard. +But it was charming. The two rows of babies +formed a pretty sight, with their hair all tied on the +tops of their heads with red, green, and blue ribbons. +One teacher asked a row of eight children, “Where +does rice grow?” The whole eight opened their +mouths wide, filled as they were with the pottage, +and replied in concert, in a sing-song, “It grows in +the water.” Then the teacher gave the order, “Hands +up!” and it was pretty to see all those little arms fly +up, which a few months ago were all in swaddling-clothes, +and all those little hands flourishing, which +looked like so many white and pink butterflies.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then they all went to recreation; but first they all +took their little baskets, which were hanging on the +wall with their lunches in them. They went out into +the garden and scattered, drawing forth their provisions +as they did so,—bread, stewed plums, a tiny +bit of cheese, a hard-boiled egg, little apples, a handful +of boiled vetches, or a wing of chicken. In an +instant the whole garden was strewn with crumbs, as +though they had been scattered from their feed by a +flock of birds. They ate in all the queerest ways,—like +rabbits, like rats, like cats, nibbling, licking, sucking. +There was one child who held a bit of rye +bread hugged closely to his breast, and was rubbing +it with a medlar, as though he were polishing a sword. +Some of the little ones crushed in their fists small +cheeses, which trickled between their fingers like milk, +and ran down inside their sleeves, and they were +utterly unconscious of it. They ran and chased each +other with apples and rolls in their teeth, like dogs. +I saw three of them excavating a hard-boiled egg +with a straw, thinking to discover treasures, and they +spilled half of it on the ground, and then picked +the crumbs up again one by one with great patience, +as though they had been pearls. And those who had +anything extraordinary were surrounded by eight or +ten, who stood staring at the baskets with bent heads, +as though they were looking at the moon in a well. +There were twenty congregated round a mite of a +fellow who had a paper horn of sugar, and they were +going through all sorts of ceremonies with him for +the privilege of dipping their bread in it, and he +accorded it to some, while to others, after many +prayers, he only granted his finger to suck.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, my mother had come into the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +garden and was caressing now one and now another. +Many hung about her, and even on her back, begging +for a kiss, with faces upturned as though to a third +story, and with mouths that opened and shut as +though asking for the breast. One offered her the +quarter of an orange which had been bitten, another +a small crust of bread; one little girl gave her a leaf; +another showed her, with all seriousness, the tip of +her forefinger, a minute examination of which revealed +a microscopic swelling, which had been caused +by touching the flame of a candle on the preceding +day. They placed before her eyes, as great marvels, +very tiny insects, which I cannot understand their +being able to see and catch, the halfs of corks, shirt-buttons, +and flowerets pulled from the vases. One +child, with a bandaged head, who was determined +to be heard at any cost, stammered out to her some +story about a head-over-heels tumble, not one word +of which was intelligible; another insisted that my +mother should bend down, and then whispered in her +ear, “My father makes brushes.”</p> + +<p>And in the meantime a thousand accidents were +happening here and there which caused the teachers +to hasten up. Children wept because they could not +untie a knot in their handkerchiefs; others disputed, +with scratches and shrieks, the halves of an apple; +one child, who had fallen face downward over a little +bench which had been overturned, wept amid the ruins, +and could not rise.</p> + +<p>Before her departure my mother took three or four +of them in her arms, and they ran up from all quarters +to be taken also, their faces smeared with yolk +of egg and orange juice; and one caught her hands; +another her finger, to look at her ring; another tugged<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +at her watch chain; another tried to seize her by +the hair.</p> + +<p>“Take care,” the teacher said to her; “they will +tear your clothes all to pieces.”</p> + +<p>But my mother cared nothing for her dress, and she +continued to kiss them, and they pressed closer and +closer to her: those who were nearest, with their arms +extended as though they were desirous of climbing; +the more distant endeavoring to make their way +through the crowd, and all screaming:—</p> + +<p>“Good by! good by! good by!”</p> + +<p>At last she succeeded in escaping from the garden. +And they all ran and thrust their faces through the +railings to see her pass, and to thrust their arms +through to greet her, offering her once more bits of +bread, bites of apple, cheese-rinds, and all screaming +in concert:—</p> + +<p>“Good by! good by! good by! Come back to-morrow! +Come again!”</p> + +<p>As my mother made her escape, she passed her +hand once more over those hundreds of tiny outstretched +hands as over a garland of living roses, +and finally arrived safely in the street, covered +with crumbs and spots, rumpled and dishevelled, +with one hand full of flowers and her eyes swelling +with tears, and happy as though she had come from +a festival. And inside there was still audible a sound +like the twittering of birds, saying:—</p> + +<p>“Good by! good by! Come again, <i>madama</i>!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>GYMNASTICS.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Tuesday, 5th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>As the weather continues extremely fine, they have +made us pass from chamber gymnastics to gymnastics +with apparatus in the garden.</p> + +<p>Garrone was in the head-master’s office yesterday +when Nelli’s mother, that blond woman dressed in +black, came in to get her son excused from the new +exercises. Every word cost her an effort; and as she +spoke, she held one hand on her son’s head.</p> + +<p>“He is not able to do it,” she said to the head-master. +But Nelli showed much grief at this exclusion +from the apparatus, at having this added humiliation +imposed upon him.</p> + +<p>“You will see, mamma,” he said, “that I shall do +like the rest.”</p> + +<p>His mother gazed at him in silence, with an air of +pity and affection. Then she remarked, in a hesitating +way, “I fear lest his companions—”</p> + +<p>What she meant to say was, “lest they should make +sport of him.” But Nelli replied:—</p> + +<p>“They will not do anything to me—and then, there +is Garrone. It is sufficient for him to be present, to +prevent their laughing.”</p> + +<p>And then he was allowed to come. The teacher +with the wound on his neck, who was with <a name="tn201" id="tn201"></a><ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: original has 'Garabaldi'">Garibaldi</ins>, +led us at once to the vertical bars, which are very high, +and we had to climb to the very top, and stand upright +on the transverse plank. Derossi and Coretti +went up like monkeys; even little Precossi mounted +briskly, in spite of the fact that he was embarrassed +with that jacket which extends to his knees; and in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> +order to make him laugh while he was climbing, all the +boys repeated to him his constant expression, “Excuse +me! excuse me!” Stardi puffed, turned as red as a +turkey-cock, and set his teeth until he looked like a +mad dog; but he would have reached the top at the +expense of bursting, and he actually did get there; and +so did Nobis, who, when he reached the summit, assumed +the attitude of an emperor; but Votini slipped +back twice, notwithstanding his fine new suit with +azure stripes, which had been made expressly for gymnastics.</p> + +<p>In order to climb the more easily, all the boys had +daubed their hands with resin, which they call colophony, +and as a matter of course it is that trader of a +Garoffi who provides every one with it, in a powdered +form, selling it at a soldo the paper hornful, and turning +a pretty penny.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 448px;"> +<img src="images/resin.jpg" width="448" height="600" alt="“THE BOYS HAD DAUBED THEIR HANDS WITH RESIN.”" title="“THE BOYS HAD DAUBED THEIR HANDS WITH RESIN.”" /> +<p class="caption">“THE BOYS HAD DAUBED THEIR HANDS WITH RESIN.”</p> +<p class="sig"><a href="images/resinl.jpg">View larger image.</a></p> +</div> + +<p>Then it was Garrone’s turn, and up he went, chewing +away at his bread as though it were nothing out of +the common; and I believe that he would have been +capable of carrying one of us up on his shoulders, for +he is as muscular and strong as a young bull.</p> + +<p>After Garrone came Nelli. No sooner did the boys +see him grasp the bars with those long, thin hands of +his, than many of them began to laugh and to sing; but +Garrone crossed his big arms on his breast, and darted +round a glance which was so expressive, which so +clearly said that he did not mind dealing out half a +dozen punches, even in the master’s presence, that +they all ceased laughing on the instant. Nelli began +to climb. He tried hard, poor little fellow; his face +grew purple, he breathed with difficulty, and the perspiration +poured from his brow. The master said, +“Come down!” But he would not. He strove and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> +persisted. I expected every moment to see him fall +headlong, half dead. Poor Nelli! I thought, what if +I had been like him, and my mother had seen me! +How she would have suffered, poor mother! And as +I thought of that I felt so tenderly towards Nelli that +I could have given, I know not what, to be able, for the +sake of having him climb those bars, to give him a +push from below without being seen.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Garrone, Derossi, and Coretti were saying: +“Up with you, Nelli, up with you!” “Try—one +effort more—courage!” And Nelli made one +more violent effort, uttering a groan as he did so, and +found himself within two spans of the plank.</p> + +<p>“Bravo!” shouted the others. “Courage—one +dash more!” and behold Nelli clinging to the plank.</p> + +<p>All clapped their hands. “Bravo!” said the master. +“But that will do now. Come down.”</p> + +<p>But Nelli wished to ascend to the top like the rest, +and after a little exertion he succeeded in getting his +elbows on the plank, then his knees, then his feet; at +last he stood upright, panting and smiling, and gazed +at us.</p> + +<p>We began to clap again, and then he looked into the +street. I turned in that direction, and through the +plants which cover the iron railing of the garden I +caught sight of his mother, passing along the sidewalk +without daring to look. Nelli descended, and we all +made much of him. He was excited and rosy, his eyes +sparkled, and he no longer seemed like the same boy.</p> + +<p>Then, at the close of school, when his mother came +to meet him, and inquired with some anxiety, as she +embraced him, “Well, my poor son, how did it go? +how did it go?” all his comrades replied, in concert, +“He did well—he climbed like the rest of us—he’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> +strong, you know—he’s active—he does exactly like +the others.”</p> + +<p>And then the joy of that woman was a sight to see. +She tried to thank us, and could not; she shook hands +with three or four, bestowed a caress on Garrone, and +carried off her son; and we watched them for a while, +walking in haste, and talking and gesticulating, both +perfectly happy, as though no one were looking at +them.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>MY FATHER’S TEACHER.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Tuesday, 11th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>What a beautiful excursion I took yesterday with +my father! This is the way it came about.</p> + +<p>Day before yesterday, at dinner, as my father was +reading the newspaper, he suddenly uttered an exclamation +of astonishment. Then he said:—</p> + +<p>“And I thought him dead twenty years ago! Do +you know that my old first elementary teacher, Vincenzo +Crosetti, is eighty-four years old? I see here +that the minister has conferred on him the medal of +merit for sixty years of teaching. Six-ty ye-ars, +you understand! And it is only two years since he +stopped teaching school. Poor Crosetti! He lives an +hour’s journey from here by rail, at Condove, in the +country of our old gardener’s wife, of the town of Chieri.” +And he added, “Enrico, we will go and see +him.”</p> + +<p>And the whole evening he talked of nothing but him. +The name of his primary teacher recalled to his mind a +thousand things which had happened when he was a +boy, his early companions, his dead mother. “Crosetti!” +he exclaimed. “He was forty when I was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> +with him. I seem to see him now. He was a small +man, somewhat bent even then, with bright eyes, and +always cleanly shaved. Severe, but in a good way; +for he loved us like a father, and forgave us more than +one offence. He had risen from the condition of a +peasant by dint of study and privations. He was a +fine man. My mother was attached to him, and my +father treated him like a friend. How comes it that +he has gone to end his days at Condove, near Turin? +He certainly will not recognize me. Never mind; I +shall recognize him. Forty-four years have elapsed,—forty-four +years, Enrico! and we will go to see him +to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>And yesterday morning, at nine o’clock, we were at +the Susa railway station. I should have liked to have +Garrone come too; but he could not, because his +mother is ill.</p> + +<p>It was a beautiful spring day. The train ran through +green fields and hedgerows in blossom, and the air we +breathed was perfumed. My father was delighted, +and every little while he would put his arm round my +neck and talk to me like a friend, as he gazed out over +the country.</p> + +<p>“Poor Crosetti!” he said; “he was the first man, +after my father, to love me and do me good. I have +never forgotten certain of his good counsels, and also +certain sharp reprimands which caused me to return +home with a lump in my throat. His hands were large +and stubby. I can see him now, as he used to enter +the schoolroom, place his cane in a corner and hang his +coat on the peg, always with the same gesture. And +every day he was in the same humor,—always conscientious, +full of good will, and attentive, as though +each day he were teaching school for the first time. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> +remember him as well as though I heard him now when +he called to me: ‘Bottini! eh, Bottini! The fore and +middle fingers on that pen!’ He must have changed +greatly in these four and forty years.”</p> + +<p>As soon as we reached Condove, we went in search +of our old gardener’s wife of Chieri, who keeps a stall +in an alley. We found her with her boys: she made +much of us and gave us news of her husband, who is +soon to return from Greece, where he has been working +these three years; and of her eldest daughter, who is in +the Deaf-mute Institute in Turin. Then she pointed +out to us the street which led to the teacher’s house,—for +every one knows him.</p> + +<p>We left the town, and turned into a steep lane flanked +by blossoming hedges.</p> + +<p>My father no longer talked, but appeared entirely +absorbed in his reminiscences; and every now and then +he smiled, and then shook his head.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he halted and said: “Here he is. I will +wager that this is he.” Down the lane towards us a +little old man with a white beard and a large hat was +descending, leaning on a cane. He dragged his feet +along, and his hands trembled.</p> + +<p>“It is he!” repeated my father, hastening his steps.</p> + +<p>When we were close to him, we stopped. The old +man stopped also and looked at my father. His face +was still fresh colored, and his eyes were clear and +vivacious.</p> + +<p>“Are you,” asked my father, raising his hat, “Vincenzo +Crosetti, the schoolmaster?”</p> + +<p>The old man raised his hat also, and replied: “I +am,” in a voice that was somewhat tremulous, but full.</p> + +<p>“Well, then,” said my father, taking one of his +hands, “permit one of your old scholars to shake your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> +hand and to inquire how you are. I have come from +Turin to see you.”</p> + +<p>The old man stared at him in amazement. Then he +said: “You do me too much honor. I do not know—When +were you my scholar? Excuse me; your name, +if you please.”</p> + +<p>My father mentioned his name, Alberto Bottini, and +the year in which he had attended school, and where, +and he added: “It is natural that you should not remember +me. But I recollect you so perfectly!”</p> + +<p>The master bent his head and gazed at the ground +in thought, and muttered my father’s name three or +four times; the latter, meanwhile, observed him with +intent and smiling eyes.</p> + +<p>All at once the old man raised his face, with his +eyes opened widely, and said slowly: “Alberto Bottini? +the son of Bottini, the engineer? the one who +lived in the Piazza della Consolata?”</p> + +<p>“The same,” replied my father, extending his +hands.</p> + +<p>“Then,” said the old man, “permit me, my dear +sir, permit me”; and advancing, he embraced my +father: his white head hardly reached the latter’s +shoulder. My father pressed his cheek to the other’s +brow.</p> + +<p>“Have the goodness to come with me,” said the +teacher. And without speaking further he turned +about and took the road to his dwelling.</p> + +<p>In a few minutes we arrived at a garden plot in front +of a tiny house with two doors, round one of which +there was a fragment of whitewashed wall.</p> + +<p>The teacher opened the second and ushered us into +a room. There were four white walls: in one corner +a cot bed with a blue and white checked coverlet; in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> +another, a small table with a little library; four chairs, +and one ancient geographical map nailed to the wall. +A pleasant odor of apples was perceptible.</p> + +<p>We seated ourselves, all three. My father and his +teacher remained silent for several minutes.</p> + +<p>“Bottini!” exclaimed the master at length, fixing +his eyes on the brick floor where the sunlight formed a +checker-board. “Oh! I remember well! Your mother +was such a good woman! For a while, during your +first year, you sat on a bench to the left near the window. +Let us see whether I do not recall it. I can still +see your curly head.” Then he thought for a while +longer. “You were a lively lad, eh? Very. The +second year you had an attack of croup. I remember +when they brought you back to school, emaciated and +wrapped up in a shawl. Forty years have elapsed since +then, have they not? You are very kind to remember +your poor teacher. And do you know, others of my +old pupils have come hither in years gone by to seek me +out: there was a colonel, and there were some priests, +and several gentlemen.” He asked my father what +his profession was. Then he said, “I am glad, heartily +glad. I thank you. It is quite a while now since +I have seen any one. I very much fear that you will +be the last, my dear sir.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t say that,” exclaimed my father. “You are +well and still vigorous. You must not say that.”</p> + +<p>“Eh, no!” replied the master; “do you see this +trembling?” and he showed us his hands. “This is a +bad sign. It seized on me three years ago, while I +was still teaching school. At first I paid no attention +to it; I thought it would pass off. But instead of +that, it stayed and kept on increasing. A day came +when I could no longer write. Ah! that day on which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +I, for the first time, made a blot on the copy-book of +one of my scholars was a stab in the heart for me, my +dear sir. I did drag on for a while longer; but I was +at the end of my strength. After sixty years of teaching +I was forced to bid farewell to my school, to my +scholars, to work. And it was hard, you understand, +hard. The last time that I gave a lesson, all the scholars +accompanied me home, and made much of me; but +I was sad; I understood that my life was finished. I +had lost my wife the year before, and my only son. I +had only two peasant grandchildren left. Now I am +living on a pension of a few hundred lire. I no longer +do anything; it seems to me as though the days would +never come to an end. My only occupation, you see, +is to turn over my old schoolbooks, my scholastic +journals, and a few volumes that have been given to +me. There they are,” he said, indicating his little +library; “there are my reminiscences, my whole past; +I have nothing else remaining to me in the world.”</p> + +<p>Then in a tone that was suddenly joyous, “I want +to give you a surprise, my dear Signor Bottini.”</p> + +<p>He rose, and approaching his desk, he opened a long +casket which contained numerous little parcels, all tied +up with a slender cord, and on each was written a date +in four figures.</p> + +<p>After a little search, he opened one, turned over several +papers, drew forth a yellowed sheet, and handed it +to my father. It was some of his school work of forty +years before.</p> + +<p>At the top was written, <i>Alberto Bottini, Dictation, +April 3, 1838</i>. My father instantly recognized his own +large, schoolboy hand, and began to read it with a +smile. But all at once his eyes grew moist. I rose +and inquired the cause.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p> + +<p>He threw one arm around my body, and pressing me +to his side, he said: “Look at this sheet of paper. Do +you see? These are the corrections made by my poor +mother. She always strengthened my <i>l</i>’s and my <i>t</i>’s. +And the last lines are entirely hers. She had learned +to imitate my characters; and when I was tired and +sleepy, she finished my work for me. My sainted +mother!”</p> + +<p>And he kissed the page.</p> + +<p>“See here,” said the teacher, showing him the other +packages; “these are my reminiscences. Each year +I laid aside one piece of work of each of my pupils; +and they are all here, dated and arranged in order. +Every time that I open them thus, and read a line here +and there, a thousand things recur to my mind, and I +seem to be living once more in the days that are past. +How many of them have passed, my dear sir! I close +my eyes, and I see behind me face after face, class after +class, hundreds and hundreds of boys, and who +knows how many of them are already dead! Many of +them I remember well. I recall distinctly the best and +the worst: those who gave me the greatest pleasure, +and those who caused me to pass sorrowful moments; +for I have had serpents, too, among that vast number! +But now, you understand, it is as though I were already +in the other world, and I love them all equally.”</p> + +<p>He sat down again, and took one of my hands in +his.</p> + +<p>“And tell me,” my father said, with a smile, “do +you not recall any roguish tricks?”</p> + +<p>“Of yours, sir?” replied the old man, also with a +smile. “No; not just at this moment. But that does +not in the least mean that you never played any. +However, you had good judgment; you were serious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> +for your age. I remember the great affection of your +mother for you. But it is very kind and polite of you +to have come to seek me out. How could you leave +your occupations, to come and see a poor old schoolmaster?”</p> + +<p>“Listen, Signor Crosetti,” responded my father with +vivacity. “I recollect the first time that my poor mother +accompanied me to school. It was to be her first parting +from me for two hours; of letting me out of the house +alone, in other hands than my father’s; in the hands +of a stranger, in short. To this good creature my entrance +into school was like my entrance into the world, +the first of a long series of necessary and painful separations; +it was society which was tearing her son from +her for the first time, never again to return him to her +intact. She was much affected; so was I. I bade her +farewell with a trembling voice, and then, as she went +away, I saluted her once more through the glass in the +door, with my eyes full of tears. And just at that point +you made a gesture with one hand, laying the other on +your breast, as though to say, ‘Trust me, signora.’ +Well, the gesture, the glance, from which I perceived +that you had comprehended all the sentiments, all the +thoughts of my mother; that look which seemed to say, +‘Courage!’ that gesture which was an honest promise +of protection, of affection, of indulgence, I have +never forgotten; it has remained forever engraved on +my heart; and it is that memory which induced me to +set out from Turin. And here I am, after the lapse +of four and forty years, for the purpose of saying to +you, ‘Thanks, dear teacher.’”</p> + +<p>The master did not reply; he stroked my hair with +his hand, and his hand trembled, and glided from my +hair to my forehead, from my forehead to my shoulder.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span></p> + +<p>In the meanwhile, my father was surveying those +bare walls, that wretched bed, the morsel of bread and +the little phial of oil which lay on the window-sill, and +he seemed desirous of saying, “Poor master! after +sixty years of teaching, is this all thy recompense?”</p> + +<p>But the good old man was content, and began once +more to talk with vivacity of our family, of the other +teachers of that day, and of my father’s schoolmates; +some of them he remembered, and some of them he did +not; and each told the other news of this one or of +that one. When my father interrupted the conversation, +to beg the old man to come down into the town +and lunch with us, he replied effusively, “I thank +you, I thank you,” but he seemed undecided. My +father took him by both hands, and besought him +afresh. “But how shall I manage to eat,” said the +master, “with these poor hands which shake in this +way? It is a penance for others also.”</p> + +<p>“We will help you, master,” said my father. And +then he accepted, as he shook his head and smiled.</p> + +<p>“This is a beautiful day,” he said, as he closed the +outer door, “a beautiful day, dear Signor Bottini! I +assure you that I shall remember it as long as I live.”</p> + +<p>My father gave one arm to the master, and the latter +took me by the hand, and we descended the lane. We +met two little barefooted girls leading some cows, and +a boy who passed us on a run, with a huge load of +straw on his shoulders. The master told us that they +were scholars of the second grade; that in the morning +they led the cattle to pasture, and worked in the fields +barefoot; and in the afternoon they put on their shoes +and went to school. It was nearly mid-day. We encountered +no one else. In a few minutes we reached +the inn, seated ourselves at a large table, with the mas<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span>ter +between us, and began our breakfast at once. The +inn was as silent as a convent. The master was very +merry, and his excitement augmented his palsy: he +could hardly eat. But my father cut up his meat, +broke his bread, and put salt on his plate. In order +to drink, he was obliged to hold the glass with both +hands, and even then he struck his teeth. But he +talked constantly, and with ardor, of the reading-books +of his young days; of the notaries of the present day; +of the commendations bestowed on him by his superiors; +of the regulations of late years: and all with +that serene countenance, a trifle redder than at first, +and with that gay voice of his, and that laugh which +was almost the laugh of a young man. And my father +gazed and gazed at him, with that same expression +with which I sometimes catch him gazing at me, at +home, when he is thinking and smiling to himself, with +his face turned aside.</p> + +<p>The teacher allowed some wine to trickle down on +his breast; my father rose, and wiped it off with his +napkin. “No, sir; I cannot permit this,” the old man +said, and smiled. He said some words in Latin. And, +finally, he raised his glass, which wavered about in his +hand, and said very gravely, “To your health, my +dear engineer, to that of your children, to the memory +of your good mother!”</p> + +<p>“To yours, my good master!” replied my father, +pressing his hand. And at the end of the room stood +the innkeeper and several others, watching us, and +smiling as though they were pleased at this attention +which was being shown to the teacher from their parts.</p> + +<p>At a little after two o’clock we came out, and the +master wanted to escort us to the station. My father +gave him his arm once more, and he again took me by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> +the hand: I carried his cane for him. The people +paused to look on, for they all knew him: some saluted +him. At one point in the street we heard, through an +open window, many boys’ voices, reading together, and +spelling. The old man halted, and seemed to be saddened +by it.</p> + +<p>“This, my dear Signor Bottini,” he said, “is what +pains me. To hear the voices of boys in school, and +not be there any more; to think that another man is +there. I have heard that music for sixty years, and I +have grown to love it. Now I am deprived of my family. +I have no sons.”</p> + +<p>“No, master,” my father said to him, starting on +again; “you still have many sons, scattered about the +world, who remember you, as I have always remembered +you.”</p> + +<p>“No, no,” replied the master sadly; “I have no +longer a school; I have no longer any sons. And +without sons, I shall not live much longer. My hour +will soon strike.”</p> + +<p>“Do not say that, master; do not think it,” said my +father. “You have done so much good in every way! +You have put your life to such a noble use!”</p> + +<p>The aged master inclined his hoary head for an instant +on my father’s shoulder, and pressed my hand.</p> + +<p>We entered the station. The train was on the point +of starting.</p> + +<p>“Farewell, master!” said my father, kissing him on +both cheeks.</p> + +<p>“Farewell! thanks! farewell!” replied the master, +taking one of my father’s hands in his two trembling +hands, and pressing it to his heart.</p> + +<p>Then I kissed him and felt that his face was bathed +in tears. My father pushed me into the railway car<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>riage, +and at the moment of starting he quickly removed +the coarse cane from the schoolmaster’s hand, and in +its place he put his own handsome one, with a silver +handle and his initials, saying, “Keep it in memory of +me.”</p> + +<p>The old man tried to return it and to recover his +own; but my father was already inside and had closed +the door.</p> + +<p>“Farewell, my kind master!”</p> + +<p>“Farewell, my son!” responded the master as the +train moved off; “and may God bless you for the +consolation which you have afforded to a poor old +man!”</p> + +<p>“Until we meet again!” cried my father, in a voice +full of emotion.</p> + +<p>But the master shook his head, as much as to say, +“We shall never see each other more.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes,” repeated my father, “until we meet +again!”</p> + +<p>And the other replied by raising his trembling hand +to heaven, “Up there!”</p> + +<p>And thus he disappeared from our sight, with his +hand on high.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>CONVALESCENCE.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Thursday, 20th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Who could have told me, when I returned from that +delightful excursion with my father, that for ten days +I should not see the country or the sky again? I have +been very ill—in danger of my life. I have heard my +mother sobbing—I have seen my father very, very +pale, gazing intently at me; and my sister Silvia and +my brother talking in a low voice; and the doctor, with +his spectacles, who was there every moment, and who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> +said things to me that I did not understand. In truth, +I have been on the verge of saying a final farewell to +every one. Ah, my poor mother! I passed three or +four days at least, of which I recollect almost nothing, +as though I had been in a dark and perplexing dream. +I thought I beheld at my bedside my kind schoolmistress +of the upper primary, who was trying to stifle her +cough in her handkerchief in order not to disturb me. +In the same manner I confusedly recall my master, +who bent over to kiss me, and who pricked my face a +little with his beard; and I saw, as in a mist, the +red head of Crossi, the golden curls of Derossi, the +Calabrian clad in black, all pass by, and Garrone, who +brought me a mandarin orange with its leaves, and +ran away in haste because his mother is ill.</p> + +<p>Then I awoke as from a very long dream, and understood +that I was better from seeing my father and +mother smiling, and hearing Silvia singing softly. Oh, +what a sad dream it was! Then I began to improve +every day. The little mason came and made me laugh +once more for the first time, with his hare’s face; and +how well he does it, now that his face is somewhat +elongated through illness, poor fellow! And Coretti +came; and Garoffi came to present me with two tickets +in his new lottery of “a penknife with five surprises,” +which he purchased of a second-hand dealer in the Via +Bertola. Then, yesterday, while I was asleep, Precossi +came and laid his cheek on my hand without waking +me; and as he came from his father’s workshop, +with his face covered with coal dust, he left a black +print on my sleeve, the sight of which caused me great +pleasure when I awoke.</p> + +<p>How green the trees have become in these few days! +And how I envy the boys whom I see running to school<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +with their books when my father carries me to the +window! But I shall go back there soon myself. I +am so impatient to see all the boys once more, and my +seat, the garden, the streets; to know all that has +taken place during the interval; to apply myself to my +books again, and to my copy-books, which I seem not +to have seen for a year! How pale and thin my poor +mother has grown! Poor father! how weary he looks! +And my kind companions who came to see me and +walked on tiptoe and kissed my brow! It makes me +sad, even now, to think that one day we must part. +Perhaps I shall continue my studies with Derossi and +with some others; but how about all the rest? When +the fourth grade is once finished, then good by! we +shall never see each other again: I shall never see +them again at my bedside when I am ill,—Garrone, +Precossi, Coretti, who are such fine boys and kind and +dear comrades,—never more!</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>FRIENDS AMONG THE WORKINGMEN.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Thursday, 20th.<br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Why “never more,” Enrico? That will depend on yourself. +When you have finished the fourth grade, you will go +to the Gymnasium, and they will become workingmen; but +you will remain in the same city for many years, perhaps. +Why, then, will you never meet again? When you are in the +University or the Lyceum, you will seek them out in their shops +or their workrooms, and it will be a great pleasure for you +to meet the companions of your youth once more, as men at +work.</p> + +<p>I should like to see you neglecting to look up Coretti or +Precossi, wherever they may be! And you will go to them, +and you will pass hours in their company, and you will see, +when you come to study life and the world, how many things<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> +you can learn from them, which no one else is capable of +teaching you, both about their arts and their society and +your own country. And have a care; for if you do not preserve +these friendships, it will be extremely difficult for you +to acquire other similar ones in the future,—friendships, I +mean to say, outside of the class to which you belong; and +thus you will live in one class only; and the man who associates +with but one social class is like the student who reads +but one book.</p> + +<p>Let it be your firm resolve, then, from this day forth, that +you will keep these good friends even after you shall be separated, +and from this time forth, cultivate precisely these by +preference because they are the sons of workingmen. You +see, men of the upper classes are the officers, and men of the +lower classes are the soldiers of toil; and thus in society as +in the army, not only is the soldier no less noble than the +officer, since nobility consists in work and not in wages, in +valor and not in rank; but if there is also a superiority of +merit, it is on the side of the soldier, of the workmen, who +draw the lesser profit from the work. Therefore love and +respect above all others, among your companions, the sons +of the soldiers of labor; honor in them the toil and the +sacrifices of their parents; disregard the differences of fortune +and of class, upon which the base alone regulate their +sentiments and courtesy; reflect that from the veins of +laborers in the shops and in the country issued nearly all +that blessed blood which has redeemed your country; love +Garrone, love Coretti, love Precossi, love your little mason, +who, in their little workingmen’s breasts, possess the hearts +of princes; and take an oath to yourself that no change of +fortune shall ever eradicate these friendships of childhood +from your soul. Swear to yourself that forty years hence, if, +while passing through a railway station, you recognize your +old Garrone in the garments of an engineer, with a black +face,—ah! I cannot think what to tell you to swear. I +am sure that you will jump upon the engine and fling +your arms round his neck, though you were even a senator +of the kingdom.</p> + +<p class="sig"> +Thy Father.<br /> +</p> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>GARRONE’S MOTHER.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Saturday, 29th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>On my return to school, the first thing I heard was +some bad news. Garrone had not been there for +several days because his mother was seriously ill. +She died on Saturday. Yesterday morning, as soon +as we came into school, the teacher said to us:—</p> + +<p>“The greatest misfortune that can happen to a +boy has happened to poor Garrone: his mother is +dead. He will return to school to-morrow. I beseech +you now, boys, respect the terrible sorrow that is +now rending his soul. When he enters, greet him +with affection, and gravely; let no one jest, let no one +laugh at him, I beg of you.”</p> + +<p>And this morning poor Garrone came in, a little +later than the rest; I felt a blow at my heart at the +sight of him. His face was haggard, his eyes were +red, and he was unsteady on his feet; it seemed as +though he had been ill for a month. I hardly recognized +him; he was dressed all in black; he aroused +our pity. No one even breathed; all gazed at him. +No sooner had he entered than at the first sight of +that schoolroom whither his mother had come to get +him nearly every day, of that bench over which she +had bent on so many examination days to give him +a last bit of advice, and where he had so many +times thought of her, in his impatience to run out and +meet her, he burst into a desperate fit of weeping. +The teacher drew him aside to his own place, and +pressed him to his breast, and said to him:—</p> + +<p>“Weep, weep, my poor boy; but take courage. +Your mother is no longer here; but she sees you,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> +she still loves you, she still lives by your side, and +one day you will behold her once again, for you have +a good and upright soul like her own. Take courage!”</p> + +<p>Having said this, he accompanied him to the bench +near me. I dared not look at him. He drew out his +copy-books and his books, which he had not opened for +many days, and as he opened the reading-book at a +place where there was a cut representing a mother +leading her son by the hand, he burst out crying again, +and laid his head on his arm. The master made us a +sign to leave him thus, and began the lesson. I should +have liked to say something to him, but I did not know +what. I laid one hand on his arm, and whispered in +his ear:—</p> + +<p>“Don’t cry, Garrone.”</p> + +<p>He made no reply, and without raising his head +from the bench he laid his hand on mine and kept it +there a while. At the close of school, no one addressed +him; all the boys hovered round him respectfully, +and in silence. I saw my mother waiting for +me, and ran to embrace her; but she repulsed me, +and gazed at Garrone. For the moment I could not +understand why; but then I perceived that Garrone +was standing apart by himself and gazing at me; and +he was gazing at me with a look of indescribable +sadness, which seemed to say: “You are embracing +your mother, and I shall never embrace mine again! +You have still a mother, and mine is dead!” And +then I understood why my mother had thrust me back, +and I went out without taking her hand.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>GIUSEPPE MAZZINI.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Saturday, 29th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>This morning, also, Garrone came to school with a +pale face and his eyes swollen with weeping, and he +hardly cast a glance at the little gifts which we had +placed on his desk to console him. But the teacher +had brought a page from a book to read to him in +order to encourage him. He first informed us that +we are to go to-morrow at one o’clock to the town-hall +to witness the award of the medal for civic valor +to a boy who has saved a little child from the Po, +and that on Monday he will dictate the description +of the festival to us instead of the monthly story. +Then turning to Garrone, who was standing with +drooping head, he said to him:—</p> + +<p>“Make an effort, Garrone, and write down what I +dictate to you as well as the rest.”</p> + +<p>We all took our pens, and the teacher dictated.</p> + +<p>“Giuseppe Mazzini, born in Genoa in 1805, died +in Pisa in 1872, a grand, patriotic soul, the mind of +a great writer, the first inspirer and apostle of the +Italian Revolution; who, out of love for his country, +lived for forty years poor, exiled, persecuted, a +fugitive heroically steadfast in his principles and in +his resolutions. Giuseppe Mazzini, who adored his +mother, and who derived from her all that there was +noblest and purest in her strong and gentle soul, +wrote as follows to a faithful friend of his, to console +him in the greatest of misfortunes. These are almost +his exact words:—</p> + +<p>“‘My friend, thou wilt never more behold thy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> +mother on this earth. That is the terrible truth. I +do not attempt to see thee, because thine is one of +those solemn and sacred sorrows which each must +suffer and conquer for himself. Dost thou understand +what I mean to convey by these words, <i>It is necessary +to conquer sorrow</i>—to conquer the least sacred, the +least purifying part of sorrow, that which, instead +of rendering the soul better, weakens and debases it? +But the other part of sorrow, the noble part—that +which enlarges and elevates the soul—that must +remain with thee and never leave thee more. Nothing +here below can take the place of a good mother. In +the griefs, in the consolations which life may still +bring to thee, thou wilt never forget her. But thou +must recall her, love her, mourn her death, in a +manner which is worthy of her. O my friend, +hearken to me! Death exists not; it is nothing. It +cannot even be understood. Life is life, and it follows +the law of life—progress. Yesterday thou +hadst a mother on earth; to-day thou hast an angel +elsewhere. All that is good will survive the life of +earth with increased power. Hence, also, the love of +thy mother. She loves thee now more than ever. +And thou art responsible for thy actions to her more, +even, than before. It depends upon thee, upon thy +actions, to meet her once more, to see her in another +existence. Thou must, therefore, out of love and +reverence for thy mother, grow better and cause her +joy for thee. Henceforth thou must say to thyself +at every act of thine, “Would my mother approve +this?” Her transformation has placed a guardian +angel in the world for thee, to whom thou must refer +in all thy affairs, in everything that pertains to thee. +Be strong and brave; fight against desperate and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> +vulgar grief; have the tranquillity of great suffering +in great souls; and that it is what she would have.’”</p> + +<p>“Garrone,” added the teacher, “<i>be strong and tranquil, +for that is what she would have</i>. Do you understand?”</p> + +<p>Garrone nodded assent, while great and fast-flowing +tears streamed over his hands, his copy-book, and +his desk.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>CIVIC VALOR.</h3> + +<p class="title">(<i>Monthly Story.</i>)</p> + +<p>At one o’clock we went with our schoolmaster to +the front of the town-hall, to see the medal for civic +valor bestowed on the lad who saved one of his comrades +from the Po.</p> + +<p>On the front terrace waved a huge tricolored flag.</p> + +<p>We entered the courtyard of the palace.</p> + +<p>It was already full of people. At the further end of +it there was visible a table with a red cover, and +papers on it, and behind it a row of gilded chairs for +the mayor and the council; the ushers of the municipality +were there, with their under-waistcoats of sky-blue +and their white stockings. To the right of the +courtyard a detachment of policemen, who had a great +many medals, was drawn up in line; and beside them +a detachment of custom-house officers; on the other +side were the firemen in festive array; and numerous +soldiers not in line, who had come to look on,—cavalrymen, +sharpshooters, artillery-men. Then all around +were gentlemen, country people, and some officers and +women and boys who had assembled. We crowded +into a corner where many scholars from other build<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span>ings +were already collected with their teachers; and +near us was a group of boys belonging to the common +people, between ten and eighteen years of age, who +were talking and laughing loudly; and we made out +that they were all from Borgo Po, comrades or acquaintances +of the boy who was to receive the medal. +Above, all the windows were thronged with the employees +of the city government; the balcony of the library +was also filled with people, who pressed against the +balustrade; and in the one on the opposite side, which +is over the entrance gate, stood a crowd of girls from +the public schools, and many <i>Daughters of military men</i>, +with their pretty blue veils. It looked like a theatre. +All were talking merrily, glancing every now and then +at the red table, to see whether any one had made his +appearance. A band of music was playing softly at +the extremity of the portico. The sun beat down on +the lofty walls. It was beautiful.</p> + +<p>All at once every one began to clap their hands, +from the courtyard, from the balconies, from the windows.</p> + +<p>I raised myself on tiptoe to look.</p> + +<p>The crowd which stood behind the red table had +parted, and a man and woman had come forward. The +man was leading a boy by the hand.</p> + +<p>This was the lad who had saved his comrade.</p> + +<p>The man was his father, a mason, dressed in his +best. The woman, his mother, small and blond, had +on a black gown. The boy, also small and blond, had +on a gray jacket.</p> + +<p>At the sight of all those people, and at the sound of +that thunder of applause, all three stood still, not daring +to look nor to move. A municipal usher pushed +them along to the side of the table on the right.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span></p> + +<p>All remained quiet for a moment, and then once +more the applause broke out on all sides. The boy +glanced up at the windows, and then at the balcony +with the <i>Daughters of military men</i>; he held his cap in +his hand, and did not seem to understand very thoroughly +where he was. It struck me that he looked a +little like Coretti, in the face; but he was redder. His +father and mother kept their eyes fixed on the table.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, all the boys from Borgo Po who +were near us were making motions to their comrade, +to attract his attention, and hailing him in a low tone: +<i>Pin! Pin! Pinot!</i> By dint of calling they made themselves +heard. The boy glanced at them, and hid his +smile behind his cap.</p> + +<p>At a certain moment the guards put themselves in +the attitude of <i>attention</i>.</p> + +<p>The mayor entered, accompanied by numerous gentlemen.</p> + +<p>The mayor, all white, with a big tricolored scarf, +placed himself beside the table, standing; all the others +took their places behind and beside him.</p> + +<p>The band ceased playing; the mayor made a sign, +and every one kept quiet.</p> + +<p>He began to speak. I did not understand the first +words perfectly; but I gathered that he was telling the +story of the boy’s feat. Then he raised his voice, and +it rang out so clear and sonorous through the whole +court, that I did not lose another word: “When he +saw, from the shore, his comrade struggling in the +river, already overcome with the fear of death, he tore +the clothes from his back, and hastened to his assistance, +without hesitating an instant. They shouted to +him, ‘You will be drowned!’—he made no reply; they +caught hold of him—he freed himself; they called him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> +by name—he was already in the water. The river +was swollen; the risk terrible, even for a man. But he +flung himself to meet death with all the strength of his +little body and of his great heart; he reached the unfortunate +fellow and seized him just in time, when he +was already under water, and dragged him to the surface; +he fought furiously with the waves, which strove +to overwhelm him, with his companion who tried to +cling to him; and several times he disappeared beneath +the water, and rose again with a desperate effort; obstinate, +invincible in his purpose, not like a boy who +was trying to save another boy, but like a man, like a +father who is struggling to save his son, who is his +hope and his life. In short, God did not permit so +generous a prowess to be displayed in vain. The +child swimmer tore the victim from the gigantic river, +and brought him to land, and with the assistance of +others, rendered him his first succor; after which he +returned home quietly and alone, and ingenuously narrated +his deed.</p> + +<p>“Gentlemen, beautiful, and worthy of veneration is +heroism in a man! But in a child, in whom there can +be no prompting of ambition or of profit whatever; in a +child, who must have all the more ardor in proportion +as he has less strength; in a child, from whom we require +nothing, who is bound to nothing, who already +appears to us so noble and lovable, not when he acts, +but when he merely understands, and is grateful for the +sacrifices of others;—in a child, heroism is divine! I +will say nothing more, gentlemen. I do not care to +deck, with superfluous praises, such simple grandeur. +Here before you stands the noble and valorous rescuer. +Soldier, greet him as a brother; mothers, bless him like +a son; children, remember his name, engrave on your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> +minds his visage, that it may nevermore be erased from +your memories and from your hearts. Approach, my +boy. In the name of the king of Italy, I give you the +medal for civic valor.”</p> + +<p>An extremely loud hurrah, uttered at the same moment +by many voices, made the palace ring.</p> + +<p>The mayor took the medal from the table, and fastened +it on the boy’s breast. Then he embraced and +kissed him. The mother placed one hand over her +eyes; the father held his chin on his breast.</p> + +<p>The mayor shook hands with both; and taking the +decree of decoration, which was bound with a ribbon, +he handed it to the woman.</p> + +<p>Then he turned to the boy again, and said: “May +the memory of this day, which is such a glorious one +for you, such a happy one for your father and mother, +keep you all your life in the path of virtue and honor! +Farewell!”</p> + +<p>The mayor withdrew, the band struck up, and everything +seemed to be at an end, when the detachment of +firemen opened, and a lad of eight or nine years, +pushed forwards by a woman who instantly concealed +herself, rushed towards the boy with the decoration, +and flung himself in his arms.</p> + +<p>Another outburst of hurrahs and applause made the +courtyard echo; every one had instantly understood +that this was the boy who had been saved from the Po, +and who had come to thank his rescuer. After kissing +him, he clung to one arm, in order to accompany him +out. These two, with the father and mother following +behind, took their way towards the door, making a +path with difficulty among the people who formed in +line to let them pass,—policemen, boys, soldiers, +women, all mingled together in confusion. All pressed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> +forwards and raised on tiptoe to see the boy. Those +who stood near him as he passed, touched his hand. +When he passed before the schoolboys, they all waved +their caps in the air. Those from Borgo Po made a +great uproar, pulling him by the arms and by his jacket +and shouting. “<i>Pin! hurrah for Pin! bravo, Pinot!</i>” +I saw him pass very close to me. His face was all +aflame and happy; his medal had a red, white, and +green ribbon. His mother was crying and smiling; +his father was twirling his mustache with one hand, +which trembled violently, as though he had a fever. +And from the windows and the balconies the people +continued to lean out and applaud. All at once, when +they were on the point of entering the portico, there +descended from the balcony of the <i>Daughters of military +men</i> a veritable shower of pansies, of bunches of +violets and daisies, which fell upon the head of the boy, +and of his father and mother, and scattered over the +ground. Many people stooped to pick them up and +hand them to the mother. And the band at the further +end of the courtyard played, very, very softly, a most +entrancing air, which seemed like a song by a great +many silver voices fading slowly into the distance on +the banks of a river.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="MAY" id="MAY"></a>MAY.</h2> + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<h3>CHILDREN WITH THE RICKETS.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Friday, 5th.<br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">To-day</span> I took a vacation, because I was not well, +and my mother took me to the Institution for Children +with the Rickets, whither she went to recommend +a child belonging to our porter; but she did not allow +me to go into the school.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>You did not understand, Enrico, why I did not permit you +to enter? In order not to place before the eyes of those unfortunates, +there in the midst of the school, as though on exhibition, +a healthy, robust boy: they have already but too many +opportunities for making melancholy comparisons. What +a sad thing! Tears rushed from my heart when I entered. +There were sixty of them, boys and girls. Poor tortured +bones! Poor hands, poor little shrivelled and distorted feet! +Poor little deformed bodies! I instantly perceived many +charming faces, with eyes full of intelligence and affection. +There was one little child’s face with a pointed nose and a +sharp chin, which seemed to belong to an old woman; but +it wore a smile of celestial sweetness. Some, viewed from +the front, are handsome, and appear to be without defects: +but when they turn round—they cast a weight upon your +soul. The doctor was there, visiting them. He set them +upright on their benches and pulled up their little garments, +to feel their little swollen stomachs and enlarged joints; but +they felt not the least shame, poor creatures! it was evident<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> +that they were children who were used to being undressed, +examined, turned round on all sides. And to think that +they are now in the best stage of their malady, when they +hardly suffer at all any more! But who can say what they +suffered during the first stage, while their bodies were undergoing +the process of deformation, when with the increase of +their infirmity, they saw affection decrease around them, +poor children! saw themselves left alone for hour after hour +in a corner of the room or the courtyard, badly nourished, +and at times scoffed at, or tormented for months by bandages +and by useless orthopedic apparatus! Now, however, +thanks to care and good food and gymnastic exercises, many +are improving. Their schoolmistress makes them practise +gymnastics. It was a pitiful sight to see them, at a certain +command, extend all those bandaged legs under the benches, +squeezed as they were between splints, knotty and deformed; +legs which should have been covered with kisses! Some +could not rise from the bench, and remained there, with +their heads resting on their arms, caressing their crutches +with their hands; others, on making the thrust with their +arms, felt their breath fail them, and fell back on their +seats, all pale; but they smiled to conceal their panting. +Ah, Enrico! you other children do not prize your good +health, and it seems to you so small a thing to be well! +I thought of the strong and thriving lads, whom their +mothers carry about in triumph, proud of their beauty; and +I could have clasped all those poor little heads, I could have +pressed them to my heart, in despair; I could have said, +had I been alone, “I will never stir from here again; I wish +to consecrate my life to you, to serve you, to be a mother to +you all, to my last day.” And in the meantime, they +sang; sang in peculiar, thin, sweet, sad voices, which penetrated +the soul; and when their teacher praised them, they +looked happy; and as she passed among the benches, they +kissed her hands and wrists; for they are very grateful for +what is done for them, and very affectionate. And these +little angels have good minds, and study well, the teacher +told me. The teacher is young and gentle, with a face full<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> +of kindness, a certain expression of sadness, like a reflection +of the misfortunes which she caresses and comforts. The +dear girl! Among all the human creatures who earn their +livelihood by toil, there is not one who earns it more holily +than thou, my daughter!</p> + +<p class="sig"> +Thy Mother.<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>SACRIFICE.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Tuesday, 9th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>My mother is good, and my sister Silvia is like her, +and has a large and noble heart. Yesterday evening +I was copying a part of the monthly story, <i>From the +Apennines to the Andes</i>,—which the teacher has +distributed among us all in small portions to copy, +because it is so long,—when Silvia entered on tiptoe, +and said to me hastily, and in a low voice: “Come +to mamma with me. I heard them talking together this +morning: some affair has gone wrong with papa, and +he was sad; mamma was encouraging him: we are in +difficulties—do you understand? We have no more +money. Papa said that it would be necessary to make +some sacrifices in order to recover himself. Now we +must make sacrifices, too, must we not? Are you +ready to do it? Well, I will speak to mamma, and do +you nod assent, and promise her on your honor that +you will do everything that I shall say.”</p> + +<p>Having said this, she took me by the hand and led +me to our mother, who was sewing, absorbed in +thought. I sat down on one end of the sofa, Silvia +on the other, and she immediately said:—</p> + +<p>“Listen, mamma, I have something to say to you. +Both of us have something to say to you.” Mamma +stared at us in surprise, and Silvia began:—</p> + +<p>“Papa has no money, has he?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“What are you saying?” replied mamma, turning +crimson. “Has he not indeed! What do you know +about it? Who has told you?”</p> + +<p>“I know it,” said Silvia, resolutely. “Well, then, +listen, mamma; we must make some sacrifices, too. +You promised me a fan at the end of May, and Enrico +expected his box of paints; we don’t want anything +now; we don’t want to waste a soldo; we shall be +just as well pleased—you understand?”</p> + +<p>Mamma tried to speak; but Silvia said: “No; it +must be thus. We have decided. And until papa has +money again, we don’t want any fruit or anything else; +broth will be enough for us, and we will eat bread in +the morning for breakfast: thus we shall spend less +on the table, for we already spend too much; and we +promise you that you will always find us perfectly +contented. Is it not so, Enrico?”</p> + +<p>I replied that it was. “Always perfectly contented,” +repeated Silvia, closing mamma’s mouth with +one hand. “And if there are any other sacrifices to +be made, either in the matter of clothing or anything +else, we will make them gladly; and we will even sell +our presents; I will give up all my things, I will serve +you as your maid, we will not have anything done out +of the house any more, I will work all day long with +you, I will do everything you wish, I am ready for +anything! For anything!” she exclaimed, throwing +her arms around my mother’s neck, “if papa and +mamma can only be saved further troubles, if I can +only behold you both once more at ease, and in good +spirits, as in former days, between your Silvia and +your Enrico, who love you so dearly, who would give +their lives for you!”</p> + +<p>Ah! I have never seen my mother so happy as she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> +was on hearing these words; she never before kissed +us on the brow in that way, weeping and laughing, and +incapable of speech. And then she assured Silvia that +she had not understood rightly; that we were not in +the least reduced in circumstances, as she imagined; +and she thanked us a hundred times, and was cheerful +all the evening, until my father came in, when she told +him all about it. He did not open his mouth, poor +father! But this morning, as we sat at the table, +I felt at once both a great pleasure and a great sadness: +under my napkin I found my box of colors, and +under hers, Silvia found her fan.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE FIRE.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Thursday, 11th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>This morning I had finished copying my share of the +story, <i>From the Apennines to the Andes</i>, and was seeking +for a theme for the independent composition which +the teacher had assigned us to write, when I heard an +unusual talking on the stairs, and shortly after two +firemen entered the house, and asked permission of my +father to inspect the stoves and chimneys, because a +smoke-pipe was on fire on the roof, and they could not +tell to whom it belonged.</p> + +<p>My father said, “Pray do so.” And although we +had no fire burning anywhere, they began to make the +round of our apartments, and to lay their ears to the +walls, to hear if the fire was roaring in the flues which +run up to the other floors of the house.</p> + +<p>And while they were going through the rooms, my +father said to me, “Here is a theme for your composition, +Enrico,—the firemen. Try to write down what +I am about to tell you.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I saw them at work two years ago, one evening, +when I was coming out of the Balbo Theatre late at +night. On entering the Via Roma, I saw an unusual +light, and a crowd of people collecting. A house was +on fire. Tongues of flame and clouds of smoke were +bursting from the windows and the roof; men and +women appeared at the windows and then disappeared, +uttering shrieks of despair. There was a dense throng +in front of the door: the crowd was shouting: ‘They +will be burned alive! Help! The firemen!’ At that +moment a carriage arrived, four firemen sprang out +of it—the first who had reached the town-hall—and +rushed into the house. They had hardly gone in when +a horrible thing happened: a woman ran to a window +of the third story, with a yell, clutched the balcony, +climbed down it, and remained suspended, thus clinging, +almost suspended in space, with her back outwards, +bending beneath the flames, which flashed out +from the room and almost licked her head. The crowd +uttered a cry of horror. The firemen, who had been +stopped on the second floor by mistake by the terrified +lodgers, had already broken through a wall and precipitated +themselves into a room, when a hundred +shouts gave them warning:—</p> + +<p>“‘On the third floor! On the third floor!’</p> + +<p>“They flew to the third floor. There there was an +infernal uproar,—beams from the roof crashing in, corridors +filled with a suffocating smoke. In order to reach +the rooms where the lodgers were imprisoned, there was +no other way left but to pass over the roof. They instantly +sprang upon it, and a moment later something +which resembled a black phantom appeared on the tiles, +in the midst of the smoke. It was the corporal, who +had been the first to arrive. But in order to get from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> +the roof to the small set of rooms cut off by the fire, he +was forced to pass over an extremely narrow space +comprised between a dormer window and the eavestrough: +all the rest was in flames, and that tiny space +was covered with snow and ice, and there was no place +to hold on to.</p> + +<p>“‘It is impossible for him to pass!’ shouted the +crowd below.</p> + +<p>“The corporal advanced along the edge of the roof. +All shuddered, and began to observe him with bated +breath. He passed. A tremendous hurrah rose towards +heaven. The corporal resumed his way, and on arriving +at the point which was threatened, he began to +break away, with furious blows of his axe, beams, tiles, +and rafters, in order to open a hole through which he +might descend within.</p> + +<p>“In the meanwhile, the woman was still suspended +outside the window. The fire raged with increased +violence over her head; another moment, and she +would have fallen into the street.</p> + +<p>“The hole was opened. We saw the corporal pull +off his shoulder-belt and lower himself inside: the +other firemen, who had arrived, followed.</p> + +<p>“At that instant a very lofty Porta ladder, which +had just arrived, was placed against the entablature of +the house, in front of the windows whence issued flames, +and howls, as of maniacs. But it seemed as though +they were too late.</p> + +<p>“‘No one can be saved now!’ they shouted. ‘The +firemen are burning! The end has come! They are +dead!’</p> + +<p>“All at once the black form of the corporal made +its appearance at the window with the balcony, lighted +up by the flames overhead. The woman clasped him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> +round the neck; he caught her round the body with both +arms, drew her up, and laid her down inside the room.</p> + +<p>“The crowd set up a shout a thousand voices strong, +which rose above the roar of the conflagration.</p> + +<p>“But the others? And how were they to get down? +The ladder which leaned against the roof on the front +of another window was at a good distance from them. +How could they get hold of it?</p> + +<p>“While the people were saying this to themselves, one +of the firemen stepped out of the window, set his right +foot on the window-sill and his left on the ladder, and +standing thus upright in the air, he grasped the lodgers, +one after the other, as the other men handed them to +him from within, passed them on to a comrade, who +had climbed up from the street, and who, after securing +a firm grasp for them on the rungs, sent them down, +one after the other, with the assistance of more firemen.</p> + +<p>“First came the woman of the balcony, then a baby, +then another woman, then an old man. All were saved. +After the old man, the fireman who had remained +inside descended. The last to come down was the corporal +who had been the first to hasten up. The crowd +received them all with a burst of applause; but when +the last made his appearance, the vanguard of the +rescuers, the one who had faced the abyss in advance +of the rest, the one who would have perished had it +been fated that one should perish, the crowd saluted +him like a conqueror, shouting and stretching out their +arms, with an affectionate impulse of admiration and of +gratitude, and in a few minutes his obscure name—Giuseppe +Robbino—rang from a thousand throats.</p> + +<p>“Have you understood? That is courage—the +courage of the heart, which does not reason, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> +does not waver, which dashes blindly on, like a lightning +flash, wherever it hears the cry of a dying man. +One of these days I will take you to the exercises of +the firemen, and I will point out to you Corporal Robbino; +for you would be very glad to know him, would +you not?”</p> + +<p>I replied that I should.</p> + +<p>“Here he is,” said my father.</p> + +<p>I turned round with a start. The two firemen, having +completed their inspection, were traversing the +room in order to reach the door.</p> + +<p>My father pointed to the smaller of the men, who +had straps of gold braid, and said, “Shake hands with +Corporal Robbino.”</p> + +<p>The corporal halted, and offered me his hand; I +pressed it; he made a salute and withdrew.</p> + +<p>“And bear this well in mind,” said my father; “for +out of the thousands of hands which you will shake in +the course of your life there will probably not be ten +which possess the worth of his.”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>FROM THE APENNINES TO THE ANDES.</h3> + +<p class="title">(<i>Monthly Story.</i>)</p> + +<p>Many years ago a Genoese lad of thirteen, the son +of a workingman, went from Genoa to America all +alone to seek his mother.</p> + +<p>His mother had gone two years before to Buenos +Ayres, a city, the capital of the Argentine Republic, +to take service in a wealthy family, and to thus earn +in a short time enough to place her family once more +in easy circumstances, they having fallen, through<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> +various misfortunes, into poverty and debt. There are +courageous women—not a few—who take this long +voyage with this object in view, and who, thanks to +the large wages which people in service receive there, +return home at the end of a few years with several +thousand lire. The poor mother had wept tears of +blood at parting from her children,—the one aged +eighteen, the other, eleven; but she had set out courageously +and filled with hope.</p> + +<p>The voyage was prosperous: she had no sooner +arrived at Buenos Ayres than she found, through a +Genoese shopkeeper, a cousin of her husband, who +had been established there for a very long time, a good +Argentine family, which gave high wages and treated +her well. And for a short time she kept up a regular +correspondence with her family. As it had been settled +between them, her husband addressed his letters +to his cousin, who transmitted them to the woman, +and the latter handed her replies to him, and he despatched +them to Genoa, adding a few lines of his +own. As she was earning eighty lire a month and +spending nothing for herself, she sent home a handsome +sum every three months, with which her husband, +who was a man of honor, gradually paid off their most +urgent debts, and thus regained his good reputation. +And in the meantime, he worked away and was satisfied +with the state of his affairs, since he also cherished +the hope that his wife would shortly return; for the +house seemed empty without her, and the younger son +in particular, who was extremely attached to his +mother, was very much depressed, and could not resign +himself to having her so far away.</p> + +<p>But a year had elapsed since they had parted; after +a brief letter, in which she said that her health was not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> +very good, they heard nothing more. They wrote twice +to the cousin; the cousin did not reply. They wrote +to the Argentine family where the woman was at service; +but it is possible that the letter never reached +them, for they had distorted the name in addressing it: +they received no answer. Fearing a misfortune, they +wrote to the Italian Consulate at Buenos Ayres to have +inquiries made, and after a lapse of three months they +received a response from the consul, that in spite of +advertisements in the newspapers no one had presented +herself nor sent any word. And it could not +have happened otherwise, for this reason if for no +other: that with the idea of sparing the good name of +her family, which she fancied she was discrediting by +becoming a servant, the good woman had not given +her real name to the Argentine family.</p> + +<p>Several months more passed by; no news. The +father and sons were in consternation; the youngest +was oppressed by a melancholy which he could not conquer. +What was to be done? To whom should they +have recourse? The father’s first thought had been to +set out, to go to America in search of his wife. But +his work? Who would support his sons? And neither +could the eldest son go, for he had just then begun to +earn something, and he was necessary to the family. +And in this anxiety they lived, repeating each day the +same sad speeches, or gazing at each other in silence; +when, one evening, Marco, the youngest, declared with +decision, “I am going to America to look for my +mother.”</p> + +<p>His father shook his head sadly and made no reply. +It was an affectionate thought, but an impossible thing. +To make a journey to America, which required a month, +alone, at the age of thirteen! But the boy patiently<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> +insisted. He persisted that day, the day after, every +day, with great calmness, reasoning with the good +sense of a man. “Others have gone thither,” he +said; “and smaller boys than I, too. Once on board +the ship, I shall get there like anybody else. Once +arrived there, I only have to hunt up our cousin’s shop. +There are plenty of Italians there who will show me +the street. After finding our cousin, my mother is +found; and if I do not find him, I will go to the consul: +I will search out that Argentine family. Whatever +happens, there is work for all there; I shall find +work also; sufficient, at least, to earn enough to get +home.” And thus little by little he almost succeeded +in persuading his father. His father esteemed him; he +knew that he had good judgment and courage; that he +was inured to privations and to sacrifices; and that all +these good qualities had acquired double force in his +heart in consequence of the sacred project of finding +his mother, whom he adored. In addition to this, the +captain of a steamer, the friend of an acquaintance of +his, having heard the plan mentioned, undertook to +procure a free third-class passage for the Argentine +Republic.</p> + +<p>And then, after a little hesitation, the father gave +his consent. The voyage was decided on. They filled +a sack with clothes for him, put a few crowns in his +pocket, and gave him the address of the cousin; and +one fine evening in April they saw him on board.</p> + +<p>“Marco, my son,” his father said to him, as he gave +him his last kiss, with tears in his eyes, on the steps of +the steamer, which was on the point of starting, “take +courage. Thou hast set out on a holy undertaking, +and God will aid thee.”</p> + +<p>Poor Marco! His heart was strong and prepared<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> +for the hardest trials of this voyage; but when he beheld +his beautiful Genoa disappear on the horizon, and +found himself on the open sea on that huge steamer +thronged with emigrating peasants, alone, unacquainted +with any one, with that little bag which held his entire +fortune, a sudden discouragement assailed him. For +two days he remained crouching like a dog on the +bows, hardly eating, and oppressed with a great desire +to weep. Every description of sad thoughts passed +through his mind, and the saddest, the most terrible, +was the one which was the most persistent in its return,—the +thought that his mother was dead. In his +broken and painful slumbers he constantly beheld a +strange face, which surveyed him with an air of compassion, +and whispered in his ear, “Your mother is +dead!” And then he awoke, stifling a shriek.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, after passing the Straits of Gibraltar, +at the first sight of the Atlantic Ocean he recovered +his spirits a little, and his hope. But it was only a brief +respite. That vast but always smooth sea, the increasing +heat, the misery of all those poor people who surrounded +him, the consciousness of his own solitude, +overwhelmed him once more. The empty and monotonous +days which succeeded each other became confounded +in his memory, as is the case with sick people. +It seemed to him that he had been at sea a year. And +every morning, on waking, he felt surprised afresh at +finding himself there alone on that vast watery expanse, +on his way to America. The beautiful flying fish which +fell on deck every now and then, the marvellous sunsets +of the tropics, with their enormous clouds colored +like flame and blood, and those nocturnal phosphorescences +which make the ocean seem all on fire like a +sea of lava, did not produce on him the effect of real<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> +things, but of marvels beheld in a dream. There were +days of bad weather, during which he remained constantly +in the dormitory, where everything was rolling +and crashing, in the midst of a terrible chorus of lamentations +and imprecations, and he thought that his last +hour had come. There were other days, when the sea +was calm and yellowish, of insupportable heat, of infinite +tediousness; interminable and wretched hours, during +which the enervated passengers, stretched motionless +on the planks, seemed all dead. And the voyage was +endless: sea and sky, sky and sea; to-day the same +as yesterday, to-morrow like to-day, and so on, always, +eternally.</p> + +<p>And for long hours he stood leaning on the bulwarks, +gazing at that interminable sea in amazement, thinking +vaguely of his mother, until his eyes closed and his +head was drooping with sleep; and then again he +beheld that unknown face which gazed upon him with +an air of compassion, and repeated in his ear, “Your +mother is dead!” and at the sound of that voice he +awoke with a start, to resume his dreaming with wide-open +eyes, and to gaze at the unchanging horizon.</p> + +<p>The voyage lasted twenty-seven days. But the last +days were the best. The weather was fine, and the +air cool. He had made the acquaintance of a good old +man, a Lombard, who was going to America to find his +son, an agriculturist in the vicinity of the town of +Rosario; he had told him his whole story, and the old +man kept repeating every little while, as he tapped him +on the nape of the neck with his hand, “Courage, my +lad; you will find your mother well and happy.”</p> + +<p>This companionship comforted him; his sad presentiments +were turned into joyous ones. Seated on the +bow, beside the aged peasant, who was smoking his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> +pipe, beneath the beautiful starry heaven, in the +midst of a group of singing peasants, he imagined to +himself in his own mind a hundred times his arrival +at Buenos Ayres; he saw himself in a certain street; +he found the shop, he flew to his cousin. “How is my +mother? Come, let us go at once! Let us go at +once!” They hurried on together; they ascended a +staircase; a door opened. And here his mute soliloquy +came to an end; his imagination was swallowed +up in a feeling of inexpressible tenderness, which +made him secretly pull forth a little medal that he +wore on his neck, and murmur his prayers as he +kissed it.</p> + +<p>On the twenty-seventh day after their departure +they arrived. It was a beautiful, rosy May morning, +when the steamer cast anchor in the immense river of +the Plata, near the shore along which stretches the vast +city of Buenos Ayres, the capital of the Argentine Republic. +This splendid weather seemed to him to be a +good augury. He was beside himself with joy and impatience. +His mother was only a few miles from him! +In a few hours more he would have seen her! He was +in America, in the new world, and he had had the daring +to come alone! The whole of that extremely long +voyage now seemed to him to have passed in an instant. +It seemed to him that he had flown hither in a +dream, and that he had that moment waked. And he +was so happy, that he hardly experienced any surprise +or distress when he felt in his pockets and found only +one of the two little heaps into which he had divided +his little treasure, in order to be the more sure of not +losing the whole of it. He had been robbed; he had +only a few lire left; but what mattered that to him, +when he was near his mother? With his bag in his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> +hand, he descended, in company with many other Italians, +to the tug-boat which carried him within a short +distance of the shore; clambered down from the tug +into a boat which bore the name of <i>Andrea Doria</i>; was +landed on the wharf; saluted his old Lombard friend, +and directed his course, in long strides, towards the +city.</p> + +<p>On arriving at the entrance of the first street, he +stopped a man who was passing by, and begged him to +show him in what direction he should go in order to +reach the street of <i>los Artes</i>. He chanced to have +stopped an Italian workingman. The latter surveyed +him with curiosity, and inquired if he knew how to +read. The lad nodded, “Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Well, then,” said the laborer, pointing to the street +from which he had just emerged, “keep straight on +through there, reading the names of all the streets on +the corners; you will end by finding the one you +want.”</p> + +<p>The boy thanked him, and turned into the street +which opened before him.</p> + +<p>It was a straight and endless but narrow street, bordered +by low white houses, which looked like so many +little villas, filled with people, with carriages, with +carts which made a deafening noise; here and there +floated enormous banners of various hues, with announcements +as to the departure of steamers for strange +cities inscribed upon them in large letters. At every +little distance along the street, on the right and left, he +perceived two other streets which ran straight away as +far as he could see, also bordered by low white houses, +filled with people and vehicles, and bounded at their +extremity by the level line of the measureless plains of +America, like the horizon at sea. The city seemed in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span>finite +to him; it seemed to him that he might wander +for days or weeks, seeing other streets like these, on +one hand and on the other, and that all America must +be covered with them. He looked attentively at the +names of the streets: strange names which cost him an +effort to read. At every fresh street, he felt his heart +beat, at the thought that it was the one he was in search +of. He stared at all the women, with the thought that +he might meet his mother. He caught sight of one in +front of him who made his blood leap; he overtook +her: she was a negro. And accelerating his pace, he +walked on and on. On arriving at the cross-street, he +read, and stood as though rooted to the sidewalk. It +was the street <i>del los Artes</i>. He turned into it, and saw +the number 117; his cousin’s shop was No. 175. He +quickened his pace still more, and almost ran; at No. +171 he had to pause to regain his breath. And he +said to himself, “O my mother! my mother! It is +really true that I shall see you in another moment!” +He ran on; he arrived at a little haberdasher’s shop. +This was it. He stepped up close to it. He saw a +woman with gray hair and spectacles.</p> + +<p>“What do you want, boy?” she asked him in Spanish.</p> + +<p>“Is not this,” said the boy, making an effort to +utter a sound, “the shop of Francesco Merelli?”</p> + +<p>“Francesco Merelli is dead,” replied the woman in +Italian.</p> + +<p>The boy felt as though he had received a blow on his +breast.</p> + +<p>“When did he die?”</p> + +<p>“Eh? quite a while ago,” replied the woman. +“Months ago. His affairs were in a bad state, and he +ran away. They say he went to Bahia Blanca, very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> +far from here. And he died just after he reached +there. The shop is mine.”</p> + +<p>The boy turned pale.</p> + +<p>Then he said quickly, “Merelli knew my mother; +my mother who was at service with Signor Mequinez. +He alone could tell me where she is. I have come to +America to find my mother. Merelli sent her our letters. +I must find my mother.”</p> + +<p>“Poor boy!” said the woman; “I don’t know. I +can ask the boy in the courtyard. He knew the young +man who did Merelli’s errands. He may be able to +tell us something.”</p> + +<p>She went to the end of the shop and called the lad, +who came instantly. “Tell me,” asked the shopwoman, +“do you remember whether Merelli’s young +man went occasionally to carry letters to a woman in +service, in the house of the <i>son of the country</i>?”</p> + +<p>“To Signor Mequinez,” replied the lad; “yes, signora, +sometimes he did. At the end of the street <i>del +los Artes</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! thanks, signora!” cried Marco. “Tell me +the number; don’t you know it? Send some one with +me; come with me instantly, my boy; I have still a +few soldi.”</p> + +<p>And he said this with so much warmth, that without +waiting for the woman to request him, the boy replied, +“Come,” and at once set out at a rapid pace.</p> + +<p>They proceeded almost at a run, without uttering a +word, to the end of the extremely long street, made +their way into the entrance of a little white house, and +halted in front of a handsome iron gate, through which +they could see a small yard, filled with vases of flowers. +Marco gave a tug at the bell.</p> + +<p>A young lady made her appearance.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span></p> + +<p>“The Mequinez family lives here, does it not?” +demanded the lad anxiously.</p> + +<p>“They did live here,” replied the young lady, pronouncing +her Italian in Spanish fashion. “Now we, +the Zeballos, live here.”</p> + +<p>“And where have the Mequinez gone?” asked +Marco, his heart palpitating.</p> + +<p>“They have gone to Cordova.”</p> + +<p>“Cordova!” exclaimed Marco. “Where is Cordova? +And the person whom they had in their service? +The woman, my mother! Their servant was +my mother! Have they taken my mother away, too?”</p> + +<p>The young lady looked at him and said: “I do not +know. Perhaps my father may know, for he knew +them when they went away. Wait a moment.”</p> + +<p>She ran away, and soon returned with her father, +a tall gentleman, with a gray beard. He looked +intently for a minute at this sympathetic type of a +little Genoese sailor, with his golden hair and his +aquiline nose, and asked him in broken Italian, “Is +your mother a Genoese?”</p> + +<p>Marco replied that she was.</p> + +<p>“Well then, the Genoese maid went with them; +that I know for certain.”</p> + +<p>“And where have they gone?”</p> + +<p>“To Cordova, a city.”</p> + +<p>The boy gave vent to a sigh; then he said with +resignation, “Then I will go to Cordova.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, poor child!” exclaimed the gentleman in +Spanish; “poor boy! Cordova is hundreds of miles +from here.”</p> + +<p>Marco turned as white as a corpse, and clung with +one hand to the railings.</p> + +<p>“Let us see, let us see,” said the gentleman, moved<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> +to pity, and opening the door; “come inside a +moment; let us see if anything can be done.” He +sat down, gave the boy a seat, and made him tell his +story, listened to it very attentively, meditated a little, +then said resolutely, “You have no money, have +you?”</p> + +<p>“I still have some, a little,” answered Marco.</p> + +<p>The gentleman reflected for five minutes more; then +seated himself at a desk, wrote a letter, sealed it, and +handing it to the boy, he said to him:—</p> + +<p>“Listen to me, little Italian. Take this letter to +Boca. That is a little city which is half Genoese, and +lies two hours’ journey from here. Any one will be +able to show you the road. Go there and find the +gentleman to whom this letter is addressed, and whom +every one knows. Carry the letter to him. He will +send you off to the town of Rosario to-morrow, and +will recommend you to some one there, who will think +out a way of enabling you to pursue your journey to +Cordova, where you will find the Mequinez family and +your mother. In the meanwhile, take this.” And he +placed in his hand a few lire. “Go, and keep up your +courage; you will find fellow-countrymen of yours in +every direction, and you will not be deserted. <i>Adios!</i>”</p> + +<p>The boy said, “Thanks,” without finding any other +words to express himself, went out with his bag, and +having taken leave of his little guide, he set out slowly +in the direction of Boca, filled with sorrow and amazement, +across that great and noisy town.</p> + +<p>Everything that happened to him from that moment +until the evening of that day ever afterwards lingered +in his memory in a confused and uncertain form, like +the wild vagaries of a person in a fever, so weary was +he, so troubled, so despondent. And at nightfall on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> +the following day, after having slept over night in a +poor little chamber in a house in Boca, beside a harbor +porter, after having passed nearly the whole of that +day seated on a pile of beams, and, as in delirium, in +sight of thousands of ships and boats and tugs, he +found himself on the poop of a large sailing vessel, +loaded with fruit, which was setting out for the town +of Rosario, managed by three robust Genoese, who +were bronzed by the sun; and their voices and the +dialect which they spoke put a little comfort into his +heart once more.</p> + +<p>They set out, and the voyage lasted three days and +four nights, and it was a continual amazement to the +little traveller. Three days and four nights on that +wonderful river Paranà, in comparison with which +our great Po is but a rivulet; and the length of Italy +quadrupled does not equal that of its course. The +barge advanced slowly against this immeasurable mass +of water. It threaded its way among long islands, +once the haunts of serpents and tigers, covered with +orange-trees and willows, like floating coppices; now +they passed through narrow canals, from which it +seemed as though they could never issue forth; now +they sailed out on vast expanses of water, having the +aspect of great tranquil lakes; then among islands +again, through the intricate channels of an archipelago, +amid enormous masses of vegetation. A profound +silence reigned. For long stretches the shores and +very vast and solitary waters produced the impression +of an unknown stream, upon which this poor little sail +was the first in all the world to venture itself. The +further they advanced, the more this monstrous river +dismayed him. He imagined that his mother was at +its source, and that their navigation must last for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> +years. Twice a day he ate a little bread and salted +meat with the boatmen, who, perceiving that he was +sad, never addressed a word to him. At night he +slept on deck and woke every little while with a start, +astounded by the limpid light of the moon, which silvered +the immense expanse of water and the distant +shores; and then his heart sank within him. “Cordova!” +He repeated that name, “Cordova!” like +the name of one of those mysterious cities of which +he had heard in fables. But then he thought, “My +mother passed this spot; she saw these islands, these +shores;” and then these places upon which the glance +of his mother had fallen no longer seemed strange +and solitary to him. At night one of the boatmen +sang. That voice reminded him of his mother’s songs, +when she had lulled him to sleep as a little child. +On the last night, when he heard that song, he sobbed. +The boatman interrupted his song. Then he cried, +“Courage, courage, my son! What the deuce! A +Genoese crying because he is far from home! The +Genoese make the circuit of the world, glorious and +triumphant!”</p> + +<p>And at these words he shook himself, he heard the +voice of the Genoese blood, and he raised his head +aloft with pride, dashing his fist down on the rudder. +“Well, yes,” he said to himself; “and if I am also +obliged to travel for years and years to come, all over +the world, and to traverse hundreds of miles on foot, +I will go on until I find my mother, were I to arrive in +a dying condition, and fall dead at her feet! If only +I can see her once again! Courage!” And with this +frame of mind he arrived at daybreak, on a cool and +rosy morning, in front of the city of Rosario, situated +on the high bank of the Paranà, where the beflagged<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> +yards of a hundred vessels of every land were mirrored +in the waves.</p> + +<p>Shortly after landing, he went to the town, bag in +hand, to seek an Argentine gentleman for whom his +protector in Boca had intrusted him with a visiting-card, +with a few words of recommendation. On +entering Rosario, it seemed to him that he was coming +into a city with which he was already familiar. There +were the straight, interminable streets, bordered with +low white houses, traversed in all directions above the +roofs by great bundles of telegraph and telephone +wires, which looked like enormous spiders’ webs; and +a great confusion of people, of horses, and of vehicles. +His head grew confused; he almost thought that he +had got back to Buenos Ayres, and must hunt up his +cousin once more. He wandered about for nearly an +hour, making one turn after another, and seeming +always to come back to the same street; and by dint +of inquiring, he found the house of his new protector. +He pulled the bell. There came to the door a big, +light-haired, gruff man, who had the air of a steward, +and who demanded awkwardly, with a foreign accent:—</p> + +<p>“What do you want?”</p> + +<p>The boy mentioned the name of his patron.</p> + +<p>“The master has gone away,” replied the steward; +“he set out yesterday afternoon for Buenos Ayres, with +his whole family.”</p> + +<p>The boy was left speechless. Then he stammered, +“But I—I have no one here! I am alone!” and he +offered the card.</p> + +<p>The steward took it, read it, and said surlily: “I don’t +know what to do for you. I’ll give it to him when he +returns a month hence.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“But I, I am alone; I am in need!” exclaimed the +lad, in a supplicating voice.</p> + +<p>“Eh? come now,” said the other; “just as though +there were not a plenty of your sort from your country +in Rosario! Be off, and do your begging in Italy!” +And he slammed the door in his face.</p> + +<p>The boy stood there as though he had been turned +to stone.</p> + +<p>Then he picked up his bag again slowly, and went +out, his heart torn with anguish, with his mind in a +whirl, assailed all at once by a thousand anxious +thoughts. What was to be done? Where was he to +go? From Rosario to Cordova was a day’s journey, by +rail. He had only a few lire left. After deducting what +he should be obliged to spend that day, he would have +next to nothing left. Where was he to find the money +to pay his fare? He could work—but how? To whom +should he apply for work? Ask alms? Ah, no! To +be repulsed, insulted, humiliated, as he had been a little +while ago? No; never, never more—rather would he +die! And at this idea, and at the sight of the very +long street which was lost in the distance of the boundless +plain, he felt his courage desert him once more, +flung his bag on the sidewalk, sat down with his back +against the wall, and bent his head between his hands, +in an attitude of despair.</p> + +<p>People jostled him with their feet as they passed; +the vehicles filled the road with noise; several boys +stopped to look at him. He remained thus for a while. +Then he was startled by a voice saying to him in a +mixture of Italian and Lombard dialect, “What is the +matter, little boy?”</p> + +<p>He raised his face at these words, and instantly +sprang to his feet, uttering an exclamation of wonder: +“You here!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>It was the old Lombard peasant with whom he had +struck up a friendship during the voyage.</p> + +<p>The amazement of the peasant was no less than his +own; but the boy did not leave him time to question +him, and he rapidly recounted the state of his affairs.</p> + +<p>“Now I am without a soldo. I must go to work. +Find me work, that I may get together a few lire. I +will do anything; I will carry rubbish, I will sweep +the streets; I can run on errands, or even work in the +country; I am content to live on black bread; but +only let it be so that I may set out quickly, that I may +find my mother once more. Do me this charity, and +find me work, find me work, for the love of God, for I +can do no more!”</p> + +<p>“The deuce! the deuce!” said the peasant, looking +about him, and scratching his chin. “What a story +is this! To work, to work!—that is soon said. Let +us look about a little. Is there no way of finding thirty +lire among so many fellow-countrymen?”</p> + +<p>The boy looked at him, consoled by a ray of hope.</p> + +<p>“Come with me,” said the peasant.</p> + +<p>“Where?” asked the lad, gathering up his bag +again.</p> + +<p>“Come with me.”</p> + +<p>The peasant started on; Marco followed him. They +traversed a long stretch of street together without +speaking. The peasant halted at the door of an inn +which had for its sign a star, and an inscription beneath, +<i>The Star of Italy</i>. He thrust his face in, and +turning to the boy, he said cheerfully, “We have +arrived at just the right moment.”</p> + +<p>They entered a large room, where there were numerous +tables, and many men seated, drinking and talking +loudly. The old Lombard approached the first table,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> +and from the manner in which he saluted the six guests +who were gathered around it, it was evident that he +had been in their company until a short time previously. +They were red in the face, and were clinking their +glasses, and vociferating and laughing.</p> + +<p>“Comrades,” said the Lombard, without any preface, +remaining on his feet, and presenting Marco, +“here is a poor lad, our fellow-countryman, who has +come alone from Genoa to Buenos Ayres to seek his +mother. At Buenos Ayres they told him, ‘She is +not here; she is in Cordova.’ He came in a bark to +Rosario, three days and three nights on the way, with +a couple of lines of recommendation. He presents the +card; they make an ugly face at him: he hasn’t a +centesimo to bless himself with. He is here alone and +in despair. He is a lad full of heart. Let us see a +bit. Can’t we find enough to pay for his ticket to go +to Cordova in search of his mother? Are we to leave +him here like a dog?”</p> + +<p>“Never in the world, by Heavens! That shall never +be said!” they all shouted at once, hammering on the +table with their fists. “A fellow-countryman of ours! +Come hither, little fellow! We are emigrants! See +what a handsome young rogue! Out with your coppers, +comrades! Bravo! Come alone! He has daring! +Drink a sup, <i>patriotta</i>! We’ll send you to your +mother; never fear!” And one pinched his cheek, +another slapped him on the shoulder, a third relieved +him of his bag; other emigrants rose from the neighboring +tables, and gathered about; the boy’s story +made the round of the inn; three Argentine guests hurried +in from the adjoining room; and in less than ten +minutes the Lombard peasant, who was passing round +the hat, had collected forty-two lire.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Do you see,” he then said, turning to the boy, +“how fast things are done in America?”</p> + +<p>“Drink!” cried another to him, offering him a glass +of wine; “to the health of your mother!”</p> + +<p>All raised their glasses, and Marco repeated, “To +the health of my—” But a sob of joy choked him, +and, setting the glass on the table, he flung himself on +the old man’s neck.</p> + +<p>At daybreak on the following morning he set out for +Cordova, ardent and smiling, filled with presentiments +of happiness. But there is no cheerfulness that rules +for long in the face of certain sinister aspects of +nature. The weather was close and dull; the train, +which was nearly empty, ran through an immense +plain, destitute of every sign of habitation. He found +himself alone in a very long car, which resembled +those on trains for the wounded. He gazed to the +right, he gazed to the left, and he saw nothing but +an endless solitude, strewn with tiny, deformed trees, +with contorted trunks and branches, in attitudes such +as were never seen before, almost of wrath and +anguish, and a sparse and melancholy vegetation, +which gave to the plain the aspect of a ruined cemetery.</p> + +<p>He dozed for half an hour; then resumed his survey: +the spectacle was still the same. The railway stations +were deserted, like the dwellings of hermits; and +when the train stopped, not a sound was heard; it +seemed to him that he was alone in a lost train, +abandoned in the middle of a desert. It seemed to +him as though each station must be the last, and that +he should then enter the mysterious regions of the +savages. An icy breeze nipped his face. On embarking +at Genoa, towards the end of April, it had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> +not occurred to him that he should find winter in +America, and he was dressed for summer.</p> + +<p>After several hours of this he began to suffer from +cold, and in connection with the cold, from the fatigue +of the days he had recently passed through, filled as +they had been with violent emotions, and from sleepless +and harassing nights. He fell asleep, slept a +long time, and awoke benumbed; he felt ill. Then +a vague terror of falling ill, of dying on the journey, +seized upon him; a fear of being thrown out there, +in the middle of that desolate prairie, where his body +would be torn in pieces by dogs and birds of prey, +like the corpses of horses and cows which he had +caught sight of every now and then beside the track, +and from which he had turned aside his eyes in disgust. +In this state of anxious illness, in the midst of +that dark silence of nature, his imagination grew +excited, and looked on the dark side of things.</p> + +<p>Was he quite sure, after all, that he should find his +mother at Cordova? And what if she had not gone +there? What if that gentleman in the Via del los Artes +had made a mistake? And what if she were dead? Thus +meditating, he fell asleep again, and dreamed that he was +in Cordova, and it was night, and that he heard cries +from all the doors and all the windows: “She is not +here! She is not here! She is not here!” This +roused him with a start, in terror, and he saw at the +other end of the car three bearded men enveloped in +shawls of various colors who were staring at him and +talking together in a low tone; and the suspicion +flashed across him that they were assassins, and that +they wanted to kill him for the sake of stealing his +bag. Fear was added to his consciousness of illness +and to the cold; his fancy, already perturbed, became<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> +distorted: the three men kept on staring at him; +one of them moved towards him; then his reason wandered, +and rushing towards him with arms wide open, +he shrieked, “I have nothing; I am a poor boy; I +have come from Italy; I am in quest of my mother; I +am alone: do not do me any harm!”</p> + +<p>They instantly understood the situation; they took +compassion on him, caressed and soothed him, speaking +to him many words which he did not hear nor comprehend; +and perceiving that his teeth were chattering +with cold, they wrapped one of their shawls around +him, and made him sit down again, so that he might +go to sleep. And he did fall asleep once more, when +the twilight was descending. When they aroused him, +he was at Cordova.</p> + +<p>Ah, what a deep breath he drew, and with what +impetuosity he flew from the car! He inquired of +one of the station employees where the house of the +engineer Mequinez was situated; the latter mentioned +the name of a church; it stood beside the church: the +boy hastened away.</p> + +<p>It was night. He entered the city, and it seemed to +him that he was entering Rosario once more; that he +again beheld those straight streets, flanked with little +white houses, and intersected by other very long and +straight streets. But there were very few people, and +under the light of the rare street lanterns, he encountered +strange faces of a hue unknown to him, +between black and greenish; and raising his head from +time to time, he beheld churches of bizarre architecture +which were outlined black and vast against the sky. +The city was dark and silent, but after having traversed +that immense desert, it appeared lively to him. +He inquired his way of a priest, speedily found the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> +church and the house, pulled the bell with one trembling +hand, and pressed the other on his breast to repress +the beating of his heart, which was leaping into +his throat.</p> + +<p>An old woman, with a light in her hand, opened the +door.</p> + +<p>The boy could not speak at once.</p> + +<p>“Whom do you want?” demanded the dame in +Spanish.</p> + +<p>“The engineer Mequinez,” replied Marco.</p> + +<p>The old woman made a motion to cross her arms on +her breast, and replied, with a shake of the head: “So +you, too, have dealings with the engineer Mequinez! +It strikes me that it is time to stop this. We have +been worried for the last three months. It is not +enough that the newspapers have said it. We shall +have to have it printed on the corner of the street, that +Signor Mequinez has gone to live at Tucuman!”</p> + +<p>The boy gave way to a gesture of despair. Then he +gave way to an outburst of passion.</p> + +<p>“So there is a curse upon me! I am doomed to die +on the road, without having found my mother! I shall +go mad! I shall kill myself! My God! what is the +name of that country? Where is it? At what distance +is it situated?”</p> + +<p>“Eh, poor boy,” replied the old woman, moved to +pity; “a mere trifle! We are four or five hundred +miles from there, at least.”</p> + +<p>The boy covered his face with his hands; then he +asked with a sob, “And now what am I to do!”</p> + +<p>“What am I to say to you, my poor child?” responded +the dame: “I don’t know.”</p> + +<p>But suddenly an idea struck her, and she added hastily: +“Listen, now that I think of it. There is one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> +thing that you can do. Go down this street, to the +right, and at the third house you will find a courtyard; +there there is a <i>capataz</i>, a trader, who is setting out to-morrow +for Tucuman, with his wagons and his oxen. +Go and see if he will take you, and offer him your services; +perhaps he will give you a place on his wagons: +go at once.”</p> + +<p>The lad grasped his bag, thanked her as he ran, and +two minutes later found himself in a vast courtyard, +lighted by lanterns, where a number of men were +engaged in loading sacks of grain on certain enormous +carts which resembled the movable houses of mountebanks, +with rounded tops, and very tall wheels; and a +tall man with mustaches, enveloped in a sort of mantle +of black and white check, and with big boots, was directing +the work.</p> + +<p>The lad approached this man, and timidly proffered +his request, saying that he had come from Italy, and +that he was in search of his mother.</p> + +<p>The <i>capataz</i>, which signifies the head (the head +conductor of this convoy of wagons), surveyed him +from head to foot with a keen glance, and replied drily, +“I have no place.”</p> + +<p>“I have fifteen lire,” answered the boy in a supplicating +tone; “I will give you my fifteen lire. I will +work on the journey; I will fetch the water and fodder +for the animals; I will perform all sorts of services. +A little bread will suffice for me. Make a little place +for me, signor.”</p> + +<p>The <i>capataz</i> looked him over again, and replied with +a better grace, “There is no room; and then, we are +not going to Tucuman; we are going to another town, +Santiago dell’Estero. We shall have to leave you at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> +a certain point, and you will still have a long way to +go on foot.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, I will make twice as long a journey!” exclaimed +Marco; “I can walk; do not worry about that; +I shall get there by some means or other: make a little +room for me, signor, out of charity; for pity’s sake, +do not leave me here alone!”</p> + +<p>“Beware; it is a journey of twenty days.”</p> + +<p>“It matters nothing to me.”</p> + +<p>“It is a hard journey.”</p> + +<p>“I will endure everything.”</p> + +<p>“You will have to travel alone.”</p> + +<p>“I fear nothing, if I can only find my mother. +Have compassion!”</p> + +<p>The <i>capataz</i> drew his face close to a lantern, and +scrutinized him. Then he said, “Very well.”</p> + +<p>The lad kissed his hand.</p> + +<p>“You shall sleep in one of the wagons to-night,” +added the <i>capataz</i>, as he quitted him; “to-morrow +morning, at four o’clock, I will wake you. Good +night.”</p> + +<p>At four o’clock in the morning, by the light of the +stars, the long string of wagons was set in motion +with a great noise; each cart was drawn by six oxen, +and all were followed by a great number of spare animals +for a change.</p> + +<p>The boy, who had been awakened and placed in one +of the carts, on the sacks, instantly fell again into a +deep sleep. When he awoke, the convoy had halted +in a solitary spot, full in the sun, and all the men—the +<i>peones</i>—were seated round a quarter of calf, which +was roasting in the open air, beside a large fire, which +was flickering in the wind. They all ate together, took +a nap, and then set out again; and thus the journey<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> +continued, regulated like a march of soldiers. Every +morning they set out on the road at five o’clock, halted +at nine, set out again at five o’clock in the evening, +and halted again at ten. The <i>peones</i> rode on horseback, +and stimulated the oxen with long goads. The +boy lighted the fire for the roasting, gave the beasts +their fodder, polished up the lanterns, and brought +water for drinking.</p> + +<p>The landscape passed before him like an indistinct +vision: vast groves of little brown trees; villages consisting +of a few scattered houses, with red and battlemented +façades; very vast tracts, possibly the ancient +beds of great salt lakes, which gleamed white with salt +as far as the eye could reach; and on every hand, and +always, the prairie, solitude, silence. On very rare +occasions they encountered two or three travellers on +horseback, followed by a herd of picked horses, who +passed them at a gallop, like a whirlwind. The days +were all alike, as at sea, wearisome and interminable; +but the weather was fine. But the <i>peones</i> became more +and more exacting every day, as though the lad were +their bond slave; some of them treated him brutally, +with threats; all forced him to serve them without +mercy: they made him carry enormous bundles of forage; +they sent him to get water at great distances; +and he, broken with fatigue, could not even sleep at +night, continually tossed about as he was by the violent +jolts of the wagon, and the deafening groaning of the +wheels and wooden axles. And in addition to this, the +wind having risen, a fine, reddish, greasy dust, which +enveloped everything, penetrated the wagon, made its +way under the covers, filled his eyes and mouth, robbed +him of sight and breath, constantly, oppressively, insupportably. +Worn out with toil and lack of sleep,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> +reduced to rags and dirt, reproached and ill treated +from morning till night, the poor boy grew every day +more dejected, and would have lost heart entirely if the +<i>capataz</i> had not addressed a kind word to him now and +then. He often wept, unseen, in a corner of the wagon, +with his face against his bag, which no longer contained +anything but rags. Every morning he rose weaker and +more discouraged, and as he looked out over the country, +and beheld always the same boundless and implacable +plain, like a terrestrial ocean, he said to himself: +“Ah, I shall not hold out until to-night! I shall not +hold out until to-night! To-day I shall die on the +road!” And his toil increased, his ill treatment was +redoubled. One morning, in the absence of the <i>capataz</i>, +one of the men struck him, because he had delayed +in fetching the water. And then they all began to take +turns at it, when they gave him an order, dealing him +a kick, saying: “Take that, you vagabond! Carry +that to your mother!”</p> + +<p>His heart was breaking. He fell ill; for three days +he remained in the wagon, with a coverlet over him, +fighting a fever, and seeing no one except the <i>capataz</i>, +who came to give him his drink and feel his pulse. +And then he believed that he was lost, and invoked his +mother in despair, calling her a hundred times by name: +“O my mother! my mother! Help me! Come to +me, for I am dying! Oh, my poor mother, I shall +never see you again! My poor mother, who will find +me dead beside the way!” And he folded his hands +over his bosom and prayed. Then he grew better, +thanks to the care of the <i>capataz</i>, and recovered; but +with his recovery arrived the most terrible day of his +journey, the day on which he was to be left to his own +devices. They had been on the way for more than two<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> +weeks; when they arrived at the point where the road +to Tucuman parted from that which leads to Santiago +dell’Estero, the <i>capataz</i> announced to him that they +must separate. He gave him some instructions with +regard to the road, tied his bag on his shoulders in a +manner which would not annoy him as he walked, and, +breaking off short, as though he feared that he should +be affected, he bade him farewell. The boy had barely +time to kiss him on one arm. The other men, too, who +had treated him so harshly, seemed to feel a little pity +at the sight of him left thus alone, and they made signs +of farewell to him as they moved away. And he returned +the salute with his hand, stood watching the +convoy until it was lost to sight in the red dust of the +plain, and then set out sadly on his road.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 437px;"> +<img src="images/marco.jpg" width="437" height="600" alt="“HE STOOD WATCHING THE CONVOY UNTIL IT WAS LOST TO SIGHT.”" title="“HE STOOD WATCHING THE CONVOY UNTIL IT WAS LOST TO SIGHT.”" /> +<p class="caption">“HE STOOD WATCHING THE CONVOY UNTIL IT WAS LOST TO SIGHT.”</p> +<p class="sig"><a href="images/marcol.jpg">View larger image.</a></p> +</div> + +<p>One thing, on the other hand, comforted him a little +from the first. After all those days of travel across +that endless plain, which was forever the same, he saw +before him a chain of mountains very high and blue, +with white summits, which reminded him of the Alps, +and gave him the feeling of having drawn near to his +own country once more. They were the Andes, the +dorsal spine of the American continent, that immense +chain which extends from Tierra del Fuego to the +glacial sea of the Arctic pole, through a hundred and +ten degrees of latitude. And he was also comforted +by the fact that the air seemed to him to grow constantly +warmer; and this happened, because, in ascending +towards the north, he was slowly approaching the +tropics. At great distances apart there were tiny +groups of houses with a petty shop; and he bought +something to eat. He encountered men on horseback; +every now and then he saw women and children seated +on the ground, motionless and grave, with faces en<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span>tirely +new to him, of an earthen hue, with oblique eyes +and prominent cheek-bones, who looked at him intently, +and accompanied him with their gaze, turning their +heads slowly like automatons. They were Indians.</p> + +<p>The first day he walked as long as his strength +would permit, and slept under a tree. On the second +day he made considerably less progress, and with less +spirit. His shoes were dilapidated, his feet wounded, +his stomach weakened by bad food. Towards evening +he began to be alarmed. He had heard, in Italy, that +in this land there were serpents; he fancied that he +heard them crawling; he halted, then set out on a run, +and with cold chills in all his bones. At times he was +seized with a profound pity for himself, and he wept +silently as he walked. Then he thought, “Oh, how +much my mother would suffer if she knew that I am +afraid!” and this thought restored his courage. Then, +in order to distract his thoughts from fear, he meditated +much of her; he recalled to mind her words when +she had set out from Genoa, and the movement with +which she had arranged the coverlet beneath his chin +when he was in bed, and when he was a baby; for +every time that she took him in her arms, she said to +him, “Stay here a little while with me”; and thus +she remained for a long time, with her head resting +on his, thinking, thinking.</p> + +<p>And he said to himself: “Shall I see thee again, +dear mother? Shall I arrive at the end of my journey, +my mother?” And he walked on and on, among +strange trees, vast plantations of sugar-cane, and fields +without end, always with those blue mountains in front +of him, which cut the sky with their exceedingly lofty +crests. Four days, five days—a week, passed. His<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> +strength was rapidly declining, his feet were bleeding. +Finally, one evening at sunset, they said to him:—</p> + +<p>“Tucuman is fifty miles from here.”</p> + +<p>He uttered a cry of joy, and hastened his steps, as +though he had, in that moment, regained all his lost +vigor. But it was a brief illusion. His forces suddenly +abandoned him, and he fell upon the brink of a +ditch, exhausted. But his heart was beating with content. +The heaven, thickly sown with the most brilliant +stars, had never seemed so beautiful to him. He +contemplated it, as he lay stretched out on the grass +to sleep, and thought that, perhaps, at that very +moment, his mother was gazing at him. And he +said:—</p> + +<p>“O my mother, where art thou? What art thou +doing at this moment? Dost thou think of thy son? +Dost thou think of thy Marco, who is so near to thee?”</p> + +<p>Poor Marco! If he could have seen in what a case +his mother was at that moment, he would have made a +superhuman effort to proceed on his way, and to reach +her a few hours earlier. She was ill in bed, in a +ground-floor room of a lordly mansion, where dwelt +the entire Mequinez family. The latter had become +very fond of her, and had helped her a great deal. +The poor woman had already been ailing when the engineer +Mequinez had been obliged unexpectedly to set +out far from Buenos Ayres, and she had not benefited +at all by the fine air of Cordova. But then, the fact +that she had received no response to her letters from +her husband, nor from her cousin, the presentiment, +always lively, of some great misfortune, the continual +anxiety in which she had lived, between the parting +and staying, expecting every day some bad news, +had caused her to grow worse out of all proportion.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> +Finally, a very serious malady had declared itself,—a +strangled internal rupture. She had not risen from +her bed for a fortnight. A surgical operation was +necessary to save her life. And at precisely the moment +when Marco was apostrophizing her, the master +and mistress of the house were standing beside her +bed, arguing with her, with great gentleness, to persuade +her to allow herself to be operated on, and +she was persisting in her refusal, and weeping. A +good physician of Tucuman had come in vain a week +before.</p> + +<p>“No, my dear master,” she said; “do not count +upon it; I have not the strength to resist; I should +die under the surgeon’s knife. It is better to allow me +to die thus. I no longer cling to life. All is at an +end for me. It is better to die before learning what +has happened to my family.”</p> + +<p>And her master and mistress opposed, and said that +she must take courage, that she would receive a reply +to the last letters, which had been sent directly to +Genoa; that she must allow the operation to be performed; +that it must be done for the sake of her family. +But this suggestion of her children only aggravated +her profound discouragement, which had for a long +time prostrated her, with increasing anguish. At these +words she burst into tears.</p> + +<p>“O my sons! my sons!” she exclaimed, wringing +her hands; “perhaps they are no longer alive! It is +better that I should die also. I thank you, my good +master and mistress; I thank you from my heart. But +it is better that I should die. At all events, I am certain +that I shall not be cured by this operation. Thanks +for all your care, my good master and mistress. It is +useless for the doctor to come again after to-morrow.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> +I wish to die. It is my fate to die here. I have +decided.”</p> + +<p>And they began again to console her, and to repeat, +“Don’t say that,” and to take her hand and +beseech her.</p> + +<p>But she closed her eyes then in exhaustion, and fell +into a doze, so that she appeared to be dead. And +her master and mistress remained there a little while, +by the faint light of a taper, watching with great compassion +that admirable mother, who, for the sake of +saving her family, had come to die six thousand miles +from her country, to die after having toiled so hard, +poor woman! and she was so honest, so good, so unfortunate.</p> + +<p>Early on the morning of the following day, Marco, +bent and limping, with his bag on his back, entered +the city of Tucuman, one of the youngest and most +flourishing towns of the Argentine Republic. It seemed +to him that he beheld again Cordova, Rosario, Buenos +Ayres: there were the same straight and extremely +long streets, the same low white houses, but on every +hand there was a new and magnificent vegetation, a +perfumed air, a marvellous light, a sky limpid and +profound, such as he had never seen even in Italy. As +he advanced through the streets, he experienced once +more the feverish agitation which had seized on him at +Buenos Ayres; he stared at the windows and doors of +all the houses; he stared at all the women who passed +him, with an anxious hope that he might meet his +mother; he would have liked to question every one, +but did not dare to stop any one. All the people who +were standing at their doors turned to gaze after the +poor, tattered, dusty lad, who showed that he had come +from afar. And he was seeking, among all these peo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span>ple, +a countenance which should inspire him with confidence, +in order to direct to its owner that tremendous +query, when his eyes fell upon the sign of an inn upon +which was inscribed an Italian name. Inside were a +man with spectacles, and two women. He approached +the door slowly, and summoning up a resolute spirit, +he inquired:—</p> + +<p>“Can you tell me, signor, where the family Mequinez +is?”</p> + +<p>“The engineer Mequinez?” asked the innkeeper in +his turn.</p> + +<p>“The engineer Mequinez,” replied the lad in a +thread of a voice.</p> + +<p>“The Mequinez family is not in Tucuman,” replied +the innkeeper.</p> + +<p>A cry of desperate pain, like that of one who has +been stabbed, formed an echo to these words.</p> + +<p>The innkeeper and the women rose, and some neighbors +ran up.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter? what ails you, my boy?” said +the innkeeper, drawing him into the shop and making +him sit down. “The deuce! there’s no reason for +despairing! The Mequinez family is not here, but at +a little distance off, a few hours from Tucuman.”</p> + +<p>“Where? where?” shrieked Marco, springing up +like one restored to life.</p> + +<p>“Fifteen miles from here,” continued the man, “on +the river, at Saladillo, in a place where a big sugar +factory is being built, and a cluster of houses; Signor +Mequinez’s house is there; every one knows it: you +can reach it in a few hours.”</p> + +<p>“I was there a month ago,” said a youth, who had +hastened up at the cry.</p> + +<p>Marco stared at him with wide-open eyes, and asked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> +him hastily, turning pale as he did so, “Did you see +the servant of Signor Mequinez—the Italian?”</p> + +<p>“The Genoese? Yes; I saw her.”</p> + +<p>Marco burst into a convulsive sob, which was half a +laugh and half a sob. Then, with a burst of violent +resolution: “Which way am I to go? quick, the road! +I shall set out instantly; show me the way!”</p> + +<p>“But it is a day’s march,” they all told him, in one +breath. “You are weary; you should rest; you can +set out to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“Impossible! impossible!” replied the lad. “Tell +me the way; I will not wait another instant; I shall +set out at once, were I to die on the road!”</p> + +<p>On perceiving him so inflexible, they no longer opposed +him. “May God accompany you!” they said to +him. “Look out for the path through the forest. A +fair journey to you, little Italian!” A man accompanied +him outside of the town, pointed out to him the +road, gave him some counsel, and stood still to watch +him start. At the expiration of a few minutes, the lad +disappeared, limping, with his bag on his shoulders, behind +the thick trees which lined the road.</p> + +<p>That night was a dreadful one for the poor sick +woman. She suffered atrocious pain, which wrung +from her shrieks that were enough to burst her veins, +and rendered her delirious at times. The women +waited on her. She lost her head. Her mistress ran +in, from time to time, in affright. All began to fear +that, even if she had decided to allow herself to be +operated on, the doctor, who was not to come until the +next day, would have arrived too late. During the +moments when she was not raving, however, it was +evident that her most terrible torture arose not from +her bodily pains, but from the thought of her distant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> +family. Emaciated, wasted away, with changed visage, +she thrust her hands through her hair, with a gesture +of desperation, and shrieked:—</p> + +<p>“My God! My God! To die so far away, to die +without seeing them again! My poor children, who +will be left without a mother, my poor little creatures, +my poor darlings! My Marco, who is still so small! +only as tall as this, and so good and affectionate! You +do not know what a boy he was! If you only knew, +signora! I could not detach him from my neck when I +set out; he sobbed in a way to move your pity; he +sobbed; it seemed as though he knew that he would +never behold his poor mother again. Poor Marco, my +poor baby! I thought that my heart would break! +Ah, if I had only died then, died while they were bidding +me farewell! If I had but dropped dead! Without +a mother, my poor child, he who loved me so dearly, +who needed me so much! without a mother, in misery, +he will be forced to beg! He, Marco, my Marco, will +stretch out his hand, famishing! O eternal God! +No! I will not die! The doctor! Call him at once I +let him come, let him cut me, let him cleave my breast, +let him drive me mad; but let him save my life! I +want to recover; I want to live, to depart, to flee, to-morrow, +at once! The doctor! Help! help!”</p> + +<p>And the women seized her hands and soothed her, +and made her calm herself little by little, and spoke to +her of God and of hope. And then she fell back again +into a mortal dejection, wept with her hands clutched +in her gray hair, moaned like an infant, uttering a prolonged +lament, and murmuring from time to time:—</p> + +<p>“O my Genoa! My house! All that sea!—O +my Marco, my poor Marco! Where is he now, my +poor darling?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>It was midnight; and her poor Marco, after having +passed many hours on the brink of a ditch, his strength +exhausted, was then walking through a forest of gigantic +trees, monsters of vegetation, huge boles like the +pillars of a cathedral, which interlaced their enormous +crests, silvered by the moon, at a wonderful height. +Vaguely, amid the half gloom, he caught glimpses of +myriads of trunks of all forms, upright, inclined, contorted, +crossed in strange postures of menace and of +conflict; some overthrown on the earth, like towers +which had fallen bodily, and covered with a dense and +confused mass of vegetation, which seemed like a furious +throng, disputing the ground span by span; others +collected in great groups, vertical and serrated, like +trophies of titanic lances, whose tips touched the +clouds; a superb grandeur, a prodigious disorder of +colossal forms, the most majestically terrible spectacle +which vegetable nature ever presented.</p> + +<p>At times he was overwhelmed by a great stupor. +But his mind instantly took flight again towards his mother. +He was worn out, with bleeding feet, alone +in the middle of this formidable forest, where it was +only at long intervals that he saw tiny human habitations, +which at the foot of these trees seemed like the +ant-hills, or some buffalo asleep beside the road; he +was exhausted, but he was not conscious of his exhaustion; +he was alone, and he felt no fear. The +grandeur of the forest rendered his soul grand; his +nearness to his mother gave him the strength and the +hardihood of a man; the memory of the ocean, of the +alarms and the sufferings which he had undergone and +vanquished, of the toil which he had endured, of the +iron constancy which he had displayed, caused him to +uplift his brow. All his strong and noble Genoese<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> +blood flowed back to his heart in an ardent tide of joy +and audacity. And a new thing took place within him; +while he had, up to this time, borne in his mind an image +of his mother, dimmed and paled somewhat by the +two years of absence, at that moment the image grew +clear; he again beheld her face, perfect and distinct, +as he had not beheld it for a long time; he beheld it +close to him, illuminated, speaking; he again beheld +the most fleeting motions of her eyes, and of her lips, +all her attitudes, all the shades of her thoughts; and +urged on by these pursuing recollections, he hastened +his steps; and a new affection, an unspeakable tenderness, +grew in him, grew in his heart, making sweet and +quiet tears to flow down his face; and as he advanced +through the gloom, he spoke to her, he said to her the +words which he would murmur in her ear in a little +while more:—</p> + +<p>“I am here, my mother; behold me here. I will +never leave you again; we will return home together, +and I will remain always beside you on board the ship, +close beside you, and no one shall ever part me from +you again, no one, never more, so long as I have life!“</p> + +<p>And in the meantime he did not observe how the +silvery light of the moon was dying away on the summits +of the gigantic trees in the delicate whiteness of +the dawn.</p> + +<p>At eight o’clock on that morning, the doctor from +Tucuman, a young Argentine, was already by the bedside +of the sick woman, in company with an assistant, +endeavoring, for the last time, to persuade her to +permit herself to be operated on; and the engineer +Mequinez and his wife added their warmest persuasions +to those of the former. But all was in vain. +The woman, feeling her strength exhausted, had no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> +longer any faith in the operation; she was perfectly +certain that she should die under it, or that she should +only survive it a few hours, after having suffered in +vain pains that were more atrocious than those of which +she should die in any case. The doctor lingered to +tell her once more:—</p> + +<p>“But the operation is a safe one; your safety is +certain, provided you exercise a little courage! And +your death is equally certain if you refuse!” It was +a sheer waste of words.</p> + +<p>“No,” she replied in a faint voice, “I still have +courage to die; but I no longer have any to suffer +uselessly. Leave me to die in peace.”</p> + +<p>The doctor desisted in discouragement. No one said +anything more. Then the woman turned her face +towards her mistress, and addressed to her her last +prayers in a dying voice.</p> + +<p>“Dear, good signora,” she said with a great effort, +sobbing, “you will send this little money and my poor +effects to my family—through the consul. I hope +that they may all be alive. My heart presages well +in these, my last moments. You will do me the favor +to write—that I have always thought of them, that +I have always toiled for them—for my children—that +my sole grief was not to see them once more—but +that I died courageously—with resignation—blessing +them; and that I recommend to my husband—and +to my elder son—the youngest, my poor +Marco—that I bore him in my heart until the last +moment—” And suddenly she became excited, and +shrieked, as she clasped her hands: “My Marco, my +baby, my baby! My life!—” But on casting her tearful +eyes round her, she perceived that her mistress was +no longer there; she had been secretly called away.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> +She sought her master; he had disappeared. No one +remained with her except the two nurses and the assistant. +She heard in the adjoining room the sound of +hurried footsteps, a murmur of hasty and subdued +voices, and repressed exclamations. The sick woman +fixed her glazing eyes on the door, in expectation. +At the end of a few minutes she saw the doctor appear +with an unusual expression on his face; then her mistress +and master, with their countenances also altered. +All three gazed at her with a singular expression, and +exchanged a few words in a low tone. She fancied +that the doctor said to her mistress, “Better let it be +at once.” She did not understand.</p> + +<p>“Josefa,” said her mistress to the sick woman, in +a trembling voice, “I have some good news for you. +Prepare your heart for good news.”</p> + +<p>The woman observed her intently.</p> + +<p>“News,” pursued the lady, with increasing agitation, +“which will give you great joy.”</p> + +<p>The sick woman’s eyes dilated.</p> + +<p>“Prepare yourself,” continued her mistress, “to see +a person—of whom you are very fond.”</p> + +<p>The woman raised her head with a vigorous movement, +and began to gaze in rapid succession, first at +the lady and then at the door, with flashing eyes.</p> + +<p>“A person,” added the lady, turning pale, “who +has just arrived—unexpectedly.”</p> + +<p>“Who is it?” shrieked the woman, with a strange +and choked voice, like that of a person in terror. An +instant later she gave vent to a shrill scream, sprang +into a sitting posture in her bed, and remained motionless, +with starting eyes, and her hands pressed to her +temples, as in the presence of a supernatural apparition.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span></p> + +<p>Marco, tattered and dusty, stood there on the threshold, +held back by the doctor’s hand on one arm.</p> + +<p>The woman uttered three shrieks: “God! God! +My God!”</p> + +<p>Marco rushed forward; she stretched out to him her +fleshless arms, and straining him to her heart with the +strength of a tiger, she burst into a violent laugh, +broken by deep, tearless sobs, which caused her to fall +back suffocating on her pillow.</p> + +<p>But she speedily recovered herself, and mad with +joy, she shrieked as she covered his head with kisses: +“How do you come here? Why? Is it you? How +you have grown! Who brought you? Are you alone? +You are not ill? It is you, Marco! It is not a dream! +My God! Speak to me!”</p> + +<p>Then she suddenly changed her tone: “No! Be +silent! Wait!” And turning to the doctor, she said +with precipitation: “Quick, doctor! this instant! I +want to get well. I am ready. Do not lose a moment. +Take Marco away, so that he may not hear.—Marco, +my love, it is nothing. I will tell you about it. One +more kiss. Go!—Here I am, doctor.”</p> + +<p>Marco was taken away. The master, mistress, and +women retired in haste; the surgeon and his assistant +remained behind, and closed the door.</p> + +<p>Signor Mequinez attempted to lead Marco to a distant +room, but it was impossible; he seemed rooted to +the pavement.</p> + +<p>“What is it?” he asked. “What is the matter +with my mother? What are they doing to her?”</p> + +<p>And then Mequinez said softly, still trying to draw +him away: “Here! Listen to me. I will tell you +now. Your mother is ill; she must undergo a little +operation; I will explain it all to you: come with me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“No,” replied the lad, resisting; “I want to stay +here. Explain it to me here.”</p> + +<p>The engineer heaped words on words, as he drew +him away; the boy began to grow terrified and to +tremble.</p> + +<p>Suddenly an acute cry, like that of one wounded to +the death, rang through the whole house.</p> + +<p>The boy responded with another desperate shriek, +“My mother is dead!”</p> + +<p>The doctor appeared on the threshold and said, +“Your mother is saved.”</p> + +<p>The boy gazed at him for a moment, and then flung +himself at his feet, sobbing, “Thanks, doctor!”</p> + +<p>But the doctor raised him with a gesture, saying: +“Rise! It is you, you heroic child, who have saved +your mother!”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>SUMMER.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Wednesday, 24th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Marco, the Genoese, is the last little hero but one +whose acquaintance we shall make this year; only one +remains for the month of June. There are only two +more monthly examinations, twenty-six days of lessons, +six Thursdays, and five Sundays. The air of +the end of the year is already perceptible. The trees +of the garden, leafy and in blossom, cast a fine shade +on the gymnastic apparatus. The scholars are already +dressed in summer clothes. And it is beautiful, at the +close of school and the exit of the classes, to see how +different everything is from what it was in the months +that are past. The long locks which touched the shoulders +have disappeared; all heads are closely shorn; +bare legs and throats are to be seen; little straw hats +of every shape, with ribbons that descend even on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> +backs of the wearers; shirts and neckties of every +hue; all the little children with something red or blue +about them, a facing, a border, a tassel, a scrap of +some vivid color tacked on somewhere by the mother, +so that even the poorest may make a good figure; and +many come to school without any hats, as though they +had run away from home. Some wear the white gymnasium +suit. There is one of Schoolmistress Delcati’s +boys who is red from head to foot, like a boiled crab. +Several are dressed like sailors.</p> + +<p>But the finest of all is the little mason, who has +donned a big straw hat, which gives him the appearance +of a half-candle with a shade over it; and it is +ridiculous to see him make his hare’s face beneath +it. Coretti, too, has abandoned his catskin cap, and +wears an old travelling-cap of gray silk. Votini has a +sort of Scotch dress, all decorated; Crossi displays his +bare breast; Precossi is lost inside of a blue blouse belonging +to the blacksmith-ironmonger.</p> + +<p>And Garoffi? Now that he has been obliged to discard +the cloak beneath which he concealed his wares, +all his pockets are visible, bulging with all sorts of +huckster’s trifles, and the lists of his lotteries force +themselves out. Now all his pockets allow their contents +to be seen,—fans made of half a newspaper, knobs +of canes, darts to fire at birds, herbs, and maybugs +which creep out of his pockets and crawl gradually +over the jackets.</p> + +<p>Many of the little fellows carry bunches of flowers +to the mistresses. The mistresses are dressed in summer +garments also, of cheerful tints; all except the +“little nun,” who is always in black; and the mistress +with the red feather still has her red feather, and a +knot of red ribbon at her neck, all tumbled with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> +little paws of her scholars, who always make her laugh +and flee.</p> + +<p>It is the season, too, of cherry-trees, of butterflies, +of music in the streets, and of rambles in the country; +many of the fourth grade run away to bathe in the Po; +all have their hearts already set on the vacation; each +day they issue forth from school more impatient and +content than the day before. Only it pains me to see +Garrone in mourning, and my poor mistress of the +primary, who is thinner and whiter than ever, and who +coughs with ever-increasing violence. She walks all +bent over now, and salutes me so sadly!</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>POETRY.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Friday, 26th.<br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>You are now beginning to comprehend the poetry of +school, Enrico; but at present you only survey the +school from within. It will seem much more beautiful +and more poetic to you twenty years from now, when +you go thither to escort your own boys; and you will +then survey it from the outside, as I do. While waiting +for school to close, I wander about the silent street, +in the vicinity of the edifice, and lay my ear to the +windows of the ground floor, which are screened by +Venetian blinds. At one window I hear the voice of a +schoolmistress saying:—</p> + +<p>“Ah, what a shape for a <i>t</i>! It won’t do, my dear +boy! What would your father say to it?”</p> + +<p>At the next window there resounds the heavy voice +of a master, which is saying:—</p> + +<p>“I will buy fifty metres of stuff—at four lire and a +half the metre—and sell it again<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span>—”</p> + +<p>Further on there is the mistress with the red feather, +who is reading aloud:—</p> + +<p>“Then Pietro Micca, with the lighted train of powder—”</p> + +<p>From the adjoining class-room comes the chirping of +a thousand birds, which signifies that the master has +stepped out for a moment. I proceed onward, and as +I turn the corner, I hear a scholar weeping, and the +voice of the mistress reproving and comforting him. +From the lofty windows issue verses, names of great +and good men, fragments of sentences which inculcate +virtue, the love of country, and courage. Then ensue +moments of silence, in which one would declare that +the edifice is empty, and it does not seem possible that +there should be seven hundred boys within; noisy outbursts +of hilarity become audible, provoked by the jest +of a master in a good humor. And the people who are +passing halt, and all direct a glance of sympathy +towards that pleasing building, which contains so +much youth and so many hopes. Then a sudden dull +sound is heard, a clapping to of books and portfolios, a +shuffling of feet, a buzz which spreads from room to +room, and from the lower to the higher, as at the sudden +diffusion of a bit of good news: it is the beadle, +who is making his rounds, announcing the dismissal of +school. And at that sound a throng of women, men, +girls, and youths press closer from this side and that +of the door, waiting for their sons, brothers, or grandchildren; +while from the doors of the class-rooms little +boys shoot forth into the big hall, as from a spout, +seize their little capes and hats, creating a great confusion +with them on the floor, and dancing all about, +until the beadle chases them forth one after the other. +And at length they come forth, in long files, stamping<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> +their feet. And then from all the relatives there descends +a shower of questions: “Did you know your +lesson?—How much work did they give you?—What +have you to do for to-morrow!—When does the monthly +examination come?”</p> + +<p>And then even the poor mothers who do not know +how to read, open the copy-books, gaze at the problems, +and ask particulars: “Only eight?—Ten with +commendation?—Nine for the lesson?”</p> + +<p>And they grow uneasy, and rejoice, and interrogate +the masters, and talk of prospectuses and examinations. +How beautiful all this is, and how great and +how immense is its promise for the world!</p> + +<p class="sig"> +Thy Father.<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE DEAF-MUTE.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Sunday, 28th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>The month of May could not have had a better ending +than my visit of this morning. We heard a jingling +of the bell, and all ran to see what it meant. I +heard my father say in a tone of astonishment:—</p> + +<p>“You here, Giorgio?”</p> + +<p>Giorgio was our gardener in Chieri, who now has his +family at Condove, and who had just arrived from +Genoa, where he had disembarked on the preceding +day, on his return from Greece, where he has been +working on the railway for the last three years. He +had a big bundle in his arms. He has grown a little +older, but his face is still red and jolly.</p> + +<p>My father wished to have him enter; but he refused, +and suddenly inquired, assuming a serious expression:</p> + +<p>“How is my family? How is Gigia?”</p> + +<p>“She was well a few days ago,” replied my mother.</p> + +<p>Giorgio uttered a deep sigh.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Oh, God be praised! I had not the courage to +present myself at the Deaf-mute Institution until I had +heard about her. I will leave my bundle here, and run +to get her. It is three years since I have seen my poor +little daughter! Three years since I have seen any of +my people!”</p> + +<p>My father said to me, “Accompany him.”</p> + +<p>“Excuse me; one word more,” said the gardener, +from the landing.</p> + +<p>My father interrupted him, “And your affairs?”</p> + +<p>“All right,” the other replied. “Thanks to God, I +have brought back a few soldi. But I wanted to inquire. +Tell me how the education of the little dumb +girl is getting on. When I left her, she was a poor +little animal, poor thing! I don’t put much faith in +those colleges. Has she learned how to make signs? +My wife did write to me, to be sure, ‘She is learning to +speak; she is making progress.’ But I said to myself, +What is the use of her learning to talk if I don’t know +how to make the signs myself? How shall we manage +to understand each other, poor little thing? That is +well enough to enable them to understand each other, +one unfortunate to comprehend another unfortunate. +How is she getting on, then? How is she?”</p> + +<p>My father smiled, and replied:—</p> + +<p>“I shall not tell you anything about it; you will +see; go, go; don’t waste another minute!”</p> + +<p>We took our departure; the institute is close by. +As we went along with huge strides, the gardener +talked to me, and grew sad.</p> + +<p>“Ah, my poor Gigia! To be born with such an infirmity! +To think that I have never heard her call me +<i>father</i>; that she has never heard me call her <i>my daughter</i>; +that she has never either heard or uttered a single<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> +word since she has been in the world! And it is lucky +that a charitable gentleman was found to pay the expenses +of the institution. But that is all—she could +not enter there until she was eight years old. She has +not been at home for three years. She is now going +on eleven. And she has grown? Tell me, she has +grown? She is in good spirits?”</p> + +<p>“You will see in a moment, you will see in a moment,” +I replied, hastening my pace.</p> + +<p>“But where is this institution?” he demanded. +“My wife went with her after I was gone. It seems +to me that it ought to be near here.”</p> + +<p>We had just reached it. We at once entered the +parlor. An attendant came to meet us.</p> + +<p>“I am the father of Gigia Voggi,” said the gardener; +“give me my daughter instantly.”</p> + +<p>“They are at play,” replied the attendant; “I will +go and inform the matron.” And he hastened away.</p> + +<p>The gardener could no longer speak nor stand still; +he stared at all four walls, without seeing anything.</p> + +<p>The door opened; a teacher entered, dressed in +black, holding a little girl by the hand.</p> + +<p>Father and daughter gazed at one another for an +instant; then flew into each other’s arms, uttering a +cry.</p> + +<p>The girl was dressed in a white and reddish striped +material, with a gray apron. She is a little taller than +I. She cried, and clung to her father’s neck with both +arms.</p> + +<p>Her father disengaged himself, and began to survey +her from head to foot, panting as though he had run a +long way; and he exclaimed: “Ah, how she has +grown! How pretty she has become! Oh, my dear, +poor Gigia! My poor mute child!—Are you her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> +teacher, signora? Tell her to make some of her signs +to me; for I shall be able to understand something, +and then I will learn little by little. Tell her to make +me understand something with her gestures.”</p> + +<p>The teacher smiled, and said in a low voice to the +girl, “Who is this man who has come to see you?”</p> + +<p>And the girl replied with a smile, in a coarse, +strange, dissonant voice, like that of a savage who +was speaking for the first time in our language, but +with a distinct pronunciation, “He is my fa-ther.”</p> + +<p>The gardener fell back a pace, and shrieked like a +madman: “She speaks! Is it possible! Is it possible! +She speaks? Can you speak, my child? can +you speak? Say something to me: you can speak?” +and he embraced her afresh, and kissed her thrice on +the brow. “But it is not with signs that she talks, +signora; it is not with her fingers? What does this +mean?”</p> + +<p>“No, Signor Voggi,” rejoined the teacher, “it is +not with signs. That was the old way. Here we +teach the new method, the oral method. How is it +that you did not know it?”</p> + +<p>“I knew nothing about it!” replied the gardener, +lost in amazement. “I have been abroad for the last +three years. Oh, they wrote to me, and I did not +understand. I am a blockhead. Oh, my daughter, +you understand me, then? Do you hear my voice? +Answer me: do you hear me? Do you hear what I +say?”</p> + +<p>“Why, no, my good man,” said the teacher; “she +does not hear your voice, because she is deaf. She +understands from the movements of your lips what the +words are that you utter; this is the way the thing is +managed; but she does not hear your voice any more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> +than she does the words which she speaks to you; she +pronounces them, because we have taught her, letter +by letter, how she must place her lips and move her +tongue, and what effort she must make with her chest +and throat, in order to emit a sound.”</p> + +<p>The gardener did not understand, and stood with his +mouth wide open. He did not yet believe it.</p> + +<p>“Tell me, Gigia,” he asked his daughter, whispering +in her ear, “are you glad that your father has +come back?” and he raised his face again, and stood +awaiting her reply.</p> + +<p>The girl looked at him thoughtfully, and said nothing.</p> + +<p>Her father was perturbed.</p> + +<p>The teacher laughed. Then she said: “My good +man, she does not answer you, because she did not see +the movements of your lips: you spoke in her ear! +Repeat your question, keeping your face well before +hers.”</p> + +<p>The father, gazing straight in her face, repeated, +“Are you glad that your father has come back? that +he is not going away again?”</p> + +<p>The girl, who had observed his lips attentively, seeking +even to see inside his mouth, replied frankly:—</p> + +<p>“Yes, I am de-light-ed that you have re-turned, +that you are not go-ing a-way a-gain—nev-er a-gain.”</p> + +<p>Her father embraced her impetuously, and then in +great haste, in order to make quite sure, he overwhelmed +her with questions.</p> + +<p>“What is mamma’s name?”</p> + +<p>“An-to-nia.”</p> + +<p>“What is the name of your little sister?”</p> + +<p>“Ad-e-laide.”</p> + +<p>“What is the name of this college?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“The Deaf-mute Insti-tution.”</p> + +<p>“How many are two times ten?”</p> + +<p>“Twen-ty.”</p> + +<p>While we thought that he was laughing for joy, he +suddenly burst out crying. But this was the result of +joy also.</p> + +<p>“Take courage,” said the teacher to him; “you +have reason to rejoice, not to weep. You see that you +are making your daughter cry also. You are pleased, +then?”</p> + +<p>The gardener grasped the teacher’s hand and kissed it +two or three times, saying: “Thanks, thanks, thanks! +a hundred thanks, a thousand thanks, dear Signora +Teacher! and forgive me for not knowing how to say +anything else!”</p> + +<p>“But she not only speaks,” said the teacher; “your +daughter also knows how to write. She knows how to +reckon. She knows the names of all common objects. +She knows a little history and geography. She is now +in the regular class. When she has passed through +the two remaining classes, she will know much more. +When she leaves here, she will be in a condition to +adopt a profession. We already have deaf-mutes who +stand in the shops to serve customers, and they perform +their duties like any one else.”</p> + +<p>Again the gardener was astounded. It seemed as +though his ideas were becoming confused again. He +stared at his daughter and scratched his head. His +face demanded another explanation.</p> + +<p>Then the teacher turned to the attendant and said to +him:—</p> + +<p>“Call a child of the preparatory class for me.”</p> + +<p>The attendant returned, in a short time, with a deaf<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span>-mute +of eight or nine years, who had entered the institution +a few days before.</p> + +<p>“This girl,” said the mistress, “is one of those +whom we are instructing in the first elements. This is +the way it is done. I want to make her say <i>a</i>. Pay +attention.”</p> + +<p>The teacher opened her mouth, as one opens it to +pronounce the vowel <i>a</i>, and motioned to the child to +open her mouth in the same manner. Then the mistress +made her a sign to emit her voice. She did so; +but instead of <i>a</i>, she pronounced <i>o</i>.</p> + +<p>“No,” said the mistress, “that is not right.” And +taking the child’s two hands, she placed one of them +on her own throat and the other on her chest, and repeated, +“<i>a</i>.”</p> + +<p>The child felt with her hands the movements of the +mistress’s throat and chest, opened her mouth again as +before, and pronounced extremely well, “<i>a</i>.”</p> + +<p>In the same manner, the mistress made her pronounce +<i>c</i> and <i>d</i>, still keeping the two little hands on her own +throat and chest.</p> + +<p>“Now do you understand?” she inquired.</p> + +<p>The father understood; but he seemed more astonished +than when he had not understood.</p> + +<p>“And they are taught to speak in the same way?” +he asked, after a moment of reflection, gazing at the +teacher. “You have the patience to teach them to +speak in that manner, little by little, and so many of +them? one by one—through years and years? But +you are saints; that’s what you are! You are angels +of paradise! There is not in the world a reward that +is worthy of you! What is there that I can say? Ah! +leave me alone with my daughter a little while now. +Let me have her to myself for five minutes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>And drawing her to a seat apart he began to interrogate +her, and she to reply, and he laughed with beaming +eyes, slapping his fists down on his knees; and he +took his daughter’s hands, and stared at her, beside +himself with delight at hearing her, as though her voice +had been one which came from heaven; then he asked +the teacher, “Would the Signor Director permit me to +thank him?”</p> + +<p>“The director is not here,” replied the mistress; +“but there is another person whom you should thank. +Every little girl here is given into the charge of an +older companion, who acts the part of sister or mother +to her. Your little girl has been intrusted to the care +of a deaf-mute of seventeen, the daughter of a baker, +who is kind and very fond of her; she has been assisting +her for two years to dress herself every morning; +she combs her hair, she teaches her to sew, she mends +her clothes, she is good company for her.—Luigia, +what is the name of your mamma in the institute?”</p> + +<p>The girl smiled, and said, “Ca-te-rina Gior-dano.” +Then she said to her father, “She is ve-ry, ve-ry +good.”</p> + +<p>The attendant, who had withdrawn at a signal from +the mistress, returned almost at once with a light-haired +deaf-mute, a robust girl, with a cheerful countenance, +and also dressed in the red and white striped +stuff, with a gray apron; she paused at the door and +blushed; then she bent her head with a smile. She +had the figure of a woman, but seemed like a child.</p> + +<p>Giorgio’s daughter instantly ran to her, took her by +the arm, like a child, and drew her to her father, saying, +in her heavy voice, “Ca-te-rina Gior-dano.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, what a splendid girl!” exclaimed her father; +and he stretched out one hand to caress her, but drew<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> +it back again, and repeated, “Ah, what a good girl! +May God bless her, may He grant her all good fortune, +all consolations; may He make her and hers always +happy, so good a girl is she, my poor Gigia! It is an +honest workingman, the poor father of a family, who +wishes you this with all his heart.”</p> + +<p>The big girl caressed the little one, still keeping her +face bent, and smiling, and the gardener continued to +gaze at her, as at a madonna.</p> + +<p>“You can take your daughter with you for the day,” +said the mistress.</p> + +<p>“Won’t I take her, though!” rejoined the gardener. +“I’ll take her to Condove, and fetch her back to-morrow +morning. Think for a bit whether I won’t take her!”</p> + +<p>The girl ran off to dress.</p> + +<p>“It is three years since I have seen her!” repeated +the gardener. “Now she speaks! I will take her to +Condove with me on the instant. But first I shall take +a ramble about Turin, with my deaf-mute on my arm, +so that all may see her, and take her to see some of my +friends! Ah, what a beautiful day! This is consolation +indeed!—Here’s your father’s arm, my Gigia.”</p> + +<p>The girl, who had returned with a little mantle and +cap on, took his arm.</p> + +<p>“And thanks to all!” said the father, as he reached +the threshold. “Thanks to all, with my whole soul! +I shall come back another time to thank you all again.”</p> + +<p>He stood for a moment in thought, then disengaged +himself abruptly from the girl, turned back, fumbling +in his waistcoat with his hand, and shouted like a man +in a fury:—</p> + +<p>“Come now, I am not a poor devil! So here, I +leave twenty lire for the institution,—a fine new gold +piece.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>And with a tremendous bang, he deposited his gold +piece on the table.</p> + +<p>“No, no, my good man,” said the mistress, with +emotion. “Take back your money. I cannot accept +it. Take it back. It is not my place. You shall see +about that when the director is here. But he will not +accept anything either; be sure of that. You have +toiled too hard to earn it, poor man. We shall be +greatly obliged to you, all the same.”</p> + +<p>“No; I shall leave it,” replied the gardener, obstinately; +“and then—we will see.”</p> + +<p>But the mistress put his money back in his pocket, +without leaving him time to reject it. And then he +resigned himself with a shake of the head; and then, +wafting a kiss to the mistress and to the large girl, he +quickly took his daughter’s arm again, and hurried with +her out of the door, saying:—</p> + +<p>“Come, come, my daughter, my poor dumb child, +my treasure!”</p> + +<p>And the girl exclaimed, in her harsh voice:—</p> + +<p>“Oh, how beau-ti-ful the sun is!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span>”</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="JUNE" id="JUNE"></a>JUNE.</h2> + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<h3>GARIBALDI.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +June 3d. +<br /> +To-morrow is the National Festival Day.<br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">To-day</span> is a day of national mourning. Garibaldi died +last night. Do you know who he is? He is the man who +liberated ten millions of Italians from the tyranny of the +Bourbons. He died at the age of seventy-five. He was +born at Nice, the son of a ship captain. At eight years of +age, he saved a woman’s life; at thirteen, he dragged into +safety a boat-load of his companions who were shipwrecked; +at twenty-seven, he rescued from the water at Marseilles a +drowning youth; at forty-one, he saved a ship from burning +on the ocean. He fought for ten years in America for +the liberty of a strange people; he fought in three wars +against the Austrians, for the liberation of Lombardy and +Trentino; he defended Rome from the French in 1849; he +delivered Naples and Palermo in 1860; he fought again for +Rome in 1867; he combated with the Germans in defence +of France in 1870. He was possessed of the flame of heroism +and the genius of war. He was engaged in forty battles, +and won thirty-seven of them.</p> + +<p>When he was not fighting, he was laboring for his living, +or he shut himself up in a solitary island, and tilled the soil. +He was teacher, sailor, workman, trader, soldier, general, +dictator. He was simple, great, and good. He hated all +oppressors, he loved all peoples, he protected all the weak; +he had no other aspiration than good, he refused honors, he +scorned death, he adored Italy. When he uttered his war-cry, +legions of valorous men hastened to him from all quar<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span>ters; +gentlemen left their palaces, workmen their ships, +youths their schools, to go and fight in the sunshine of his +glory. In time of war he wore a red shirt. He was strong, +blond, and handsome. On the field of battle he was a +thunder-bolt, in his affections he was a child, in affliction a +saint. Thousands of Italians have died for their country, +happy, if, when dying, they saw him pass victorious in the +distance; thousands would have allowed themselves to be +killed for him; millions have blessed and will bless him.</p> + +<p>He is dead. The whole world mourns him. You do not +understand him now. But you will read of his deeds, you +will constantly hear him spoken of in the course of your +life; and gradually, as you grow up, his image will grow +before you; when you become a man, you will behold him +as a giant; and when you are no longer in the world, when +your sons’ sons and those who shall be born from them +are no longer among the living, the generations will still +behold on high his luminous head as a redeemer of the peoples, +crowned by the names of his victories as with a circlet +of stars; and the brow and the soul of every Italian will +beam when he utters his name.</p> + +<p class="sig"> +Thy Father.<br /> +</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE ARMY.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Sunday, 11th.<br /> +The National Festival Day. Postponed for a week on<br /> +account of the death of Garibaldi.<br /> +</p> + +<p>We have been to the Piazza Castello, to see the +review of soldiers, who defiled before the commandant +of the army corps, between two vast lines of people. +As they marched past to the sound of flourishes from +trumpets and bands, my father pointed out to me the +Corps and the glories of the banners. First, the pupils +of the Academy, those who will become officers in +the Engineers and the Artillery, about three hundred in +number, dressed in black, passed with the bold and easy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> +elegance of students and soldiers. After them defiled +the infantry, the brigade of Aosta, which fought at +Goito and at San Martino, and the Bergamo brigade, +which fought at Castelfidardo, four regiments of them, +company after company, thousands of red aiguillettes, +which seemed like so many double and very long +garlands of blood-colored flowers, extended and agitated +from the two ends, and borne athwart the +crowd. After the infantry, the soldiers of the Mining +Corps advanced,—the workingmen of war, with their +plumes of black horse-tails, and their crimson bands; +and while these were passing, we beheld advancing +behind them hundreds of long, straight plumes, which +rose above the heads of the spectators; they were the +mountaineers, the defenders of the portals of Italy, +all tall, rosy, and stalwart, with hats of Calabrian +fashion, and revers of a beautiful, bright green, the +color of the grass on their native mountains. The +mountaineers were still marching past, when a quiver +ran through the crowd, and the <i>bersaglieri</i>, the old +twelfth battalion, the first who entered Rome through +the breach at the Porta Pia, bronzed, alert, brisk, with +fluttering plumes, passed like a wave in a sea of black, +making the piazza ring with the shrill blasts of their +trumpets, which seemed shouts of joy. But their +trumpeting was drowned by a broken and hollow rumble, +which <a name="tn292" id="tn292"></a><ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: original has 'anounced'">announced</ins> the field artillery; and then the +latter passed in triumph, seated on their lofty caissons, +drawn by three hundred pairs of fiery horses,—those +fine soldiers with yellow lacings, and their long cannons +of brass and steel gleaming on the light carriages, as +they jolted and resounded, and made the earth tremble.</p> + +<p>And then came the mountain artillery, slowly, +gravely, beautiful in its laborious and rude semblance,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> +with its large soldiers, with its powerful mules—that +mountain artillery which carries dismay and death +wherever man can set his foot. And last of all, the +fine regiment of the Genoese cavalry, which had +wheeled down like a whirlwind on ten fields of battle, +from Santa Lucia to Villafranca, passed at a gallop, +with their helmets glittering in the sun, their lances +erect, their pennons floating in the air, sparkling +with gold and silver, filling the air with jingling and +neighing.</p> + +<p>“How beautiful it is!” I exclaimed. My father +almost reproved me for these words, and said to me:—</p> + +<p>“You are not to regard the army as a fine spectacle. +All these young men, so full of strength and hope, +may be called upon any day to defend our country, +and fall in a few hours, crushed to fragments by bullets +and grape-shot. Every time that you hear the cry, +at a feast, ‘Hurrah for the army! hurrah for Italy!’ +picture to yourself, behind the regiments which are +passing, a plain covered with corpses, and inundated +with blood, and then the greeting to the army will +proceed from the very depths of your heart, and the +image of Italy will appear to you more severe and +grand.”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>ITALY.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Tuesday, 14th.<br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Salute your country thus, on days of festival: “Italy, my +country, dear and noble land, where my father and my +mother were born, and where they will be buried, where I +hope to live and die, where my children will grow up and +die; beautiful Italy, great and glorious for many centuries, +united and free for a few years; thou who didst disseminate +so great a light of intellect divine over the world, and for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> +whom so many valiant men have died on the battle-field, +and so many heroes on the gallows; august mother of three +hundred cities, and thirty millions of sons; I, a child, who +do not understand thee as yet, and who do not know thee in +thy entirety, I venerate and love thee with all my soul, and +I am proud of having been born of thee, and of calling +myself thy son. I love thy splendid seas and thy sublime +mountains; I love thy solemn monuments and thy immortal +memories; I love thy glory and thy beauty; I love and venerate +the whole of thee as that beloved portion of thee where +I, for the first time, beheld the light and heard thy name. +I love the whole of thee, with a single affection and with +equal gratitude,—Turin the valiant, Genoa the superb, +Bologna the learned, Venice the enchanting, Milan the +mighty; I love you with the uniform reverence of a son, +gentle Florence and terrible Palermo, immense and beautiful +Naples, marvellous and eternal Rome. I love thee, my +sacred country! And I swear that I will love all thy sons +like brothers; that I will always honor in my heart thy +great men, living and dead; that I will be an industrious +and honest citizen, constantly intent on ennobling myself, in +order to render myself worthy of thee, to assist with my +small powers in causing misery, ignorance, injustice, crime, +to disappear one day from thy face, so that thou mayest live +and expand tranquilly in the majesty of thy right and of +thy strength. I swear that I will serve thee, as it may be +granted to me, with my mind, with my arm, with my heart, +humbly, ardently; and that, if the day should dawn in +which I should be called on to give my blood for thee and +my life, I will give my blood, and I will die, crying thy holy +name to heaven, and wafting my last kiss to thy blessed +banner.”</p> + +<p class="sig"> +Thy Father.<br /> +</p></div> + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span></p> + + +<h3>THIRTY-TWO DEGREES.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Friday, 16th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>During the five days which have passed since the +National Festival, the heat has increased by three degrees. +We are in full summer now, and begin to feel +weary; all have lost their fine rosy color of springtime; +necks and legs are growing thin, heads droop and eyes +close. Poor Nelli, who suffers much from the heat, has +turned the color of wax in the face; he sometimes +falls into a heavy sleep, with his head on his copy-book; +but Garrone is always watchful, and places an +open book upright in front of him, so that the master +may not see him. Crossi rests his red head against +the bench in a certain way, so that it looks as though +it had been detached from his body and placed there +separately. Nobis complains that there are too many +of us, and that we corrupt the air. Ah, what an +effort it costs now to study! I gaze through the windows +at those beautiful trees which cast so deep a +shade, where I should be so glad to run, and sadness +and wrath overwhelm me at being obliged to go and +shut myself up among the benches. But then I take +courage at the sight of my kind mother, who is always +watching me, scrutinizing me, when I return from +school, to see whether I am not pale; and at every +page of my work she says to me:—</p> + +<p>“Do you still feel well?” and every morning at +six, when she wakes me for my lesson, “Courage! +there are only so many days more: then you will be +free, and will get rested,—you will go to the shade of +country lanes.”</p> + +<p>Yes, she is perfectly right to remind me of the boys +who are working in the fields in the full heat of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> +sun, or among the white sands of the river, which +blind and scorch them, and of those in the glass-factories, +who stand all day long motionless, with head bent +over a flame of gas; and all of them rise earlier than +we do, and have no vacations. Courage, then! And +even in this respect, Derossi is at the head of all, for +he suffers neither from heat nor drowsiness; he is always +wide awake, and cheery, with his golden curls, +as he was in the winter, and he studies without effort, +and keeps all about him alert, as though he freshened +the air with his voice.</p> + +<p>And there are two others, also, who are always +awake and attentive: stubborn Stardi, who pricks his +face, to prevent himself from going to sleep; and the +more weary and heated he is, the more he sets his +teeth, and he opens his eyes so wide that it seems as +though he wanted to eat the teacher; and that barterer +of a Garoffi, who is wholly absorbed in manufacturing +fans out of red paper, decorated with little +figures from match-boxes, which he sells at two centesimi +apiece.</p> + +<p>But the bravest of all is Coretti; poor Coretti, +who gets up at five o’clock, to help his father carry +wood! At eleven, in school, he can no longer keep +his eyes open, and his head droops on his breast. And +nevertheless, he shakes himself, punches himself on +the back of the neck, asks permission to go out and +wash his face, and makes his neighbors shake and +pinch him. But this morning he could not resist, and +he fell into a leaden sleep. The master called him +loudly; “Coretti!” He did not hear. The master, +irritated, repeated, “Coretti!” Then the son of +the charcoal-man, who lives next to him at home, rose +and said:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>“He worked from five until seven carrying faggots.” +The teacher allowed him to sleep on, and continued +with the lesson for half an hour. Then he went to +Coretti’s seat, and wakened him very, very gently, by +blowing in his face. On beholding the master in front +of him, he started back in alarm. But the master took +his head in his hands, and said, as he kissed him on +the hair:—</p> + +<p>“I am not reproving you, my son. Your sleep is +not at all that of laziness; it is the sleep of fatigue.”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>MY FATHER.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Saturday, 17th.<br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Surely, neither your comrade Coretti nor Garrone would +ever have answered their fathers as you answered yours this +afternoon. Enrico! How is it possible? You must promise +me solemnly that this shall never happen again so long +as I live. Every time that an impertinent reply flies to your +lips at a reproof from your father, think of that day which +will infallibly come when he will call you to his bedside to +tell you, “Enrico, I am about to leave you.” Oh, my son, +when you hear his voice for the last time, and for a long while +afterwards, when you weep alone in his deserted room, in the +midst of those books which he will never open again, then, +on recalling that you have at times been wanting in respect +to him, you, too, will ask yourself, “How is it possible?” +Then you will understand that he has always been your best +friend, that when he was constrained to punish you, it caused +him more suffering than it did you, and that he never made +you weep except for the sake of doing you good; and then +you will repent, and you will kiss with tears that desk at +which he worked so much, at which he wore out his life for +his children. You do not understand now; he hides from +you all of himself except his kindness and his love. You do +not know that he is sometimes so broken down with toil<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> +that he thinks he has only a few more days to live, and that +at such moments he talks only of you; he has in his heart +no other trouble than that of leaving you poor and without +protection.</p> + +<p>And how often, when meditating on this, does he enter +your chamber while you are asleep, and stand there, lamp +in hand, gazing at you; and then he makes an effort, and +weary and sad as he is, he returns to his labor; and neither +do you know that he often seeks you and remains with you +because he has a bitterness in his heart, sorrows which +attack all men in the world, and he seeks you as a friend, +to obtain consolation himself and forgetfulness, and he feels +the need of taking refuge in your affection, to recover his +serenity and his courage: think, then, what must be his sorrow, +when instead of finding in you affection, he finds coldness +and disrespect! Never again stain yourself with this +horrible ingratitude! Reflect, that were you as good as a +saint, you could never repay him sufficiently for what he has +done and for what he is constantly doing for you. And +reflect, also, we cannot count on life; a misfortune might +remove your father while you are still a boy,—in two years, +in three months, to-morrow.</p> + +<p>Ah, my poor Enrico, when you see all about you changing, +how empty, how desolate the house will appear, with your +poor mother clothed in black! Go, my son, go to your father; +he is in his room at work; go on tiptoe, so that he may not +hear you enter; go and lay your forehead on his knees, and +beseech him to pardon and to bless you.</p> + +<p class="sig"> +Thy Mother.<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>IN THE COUNTRY.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Monday, 19th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>My good father forgave me, even on this occasion, +and allowed me to go on an expedition to the country, +which had been arranged on Wednesday, with the +father of Coretti, the wood-peddler.</p> + +<p>We were all in need of a mouthful of hill air. It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span> +was a festival day. We met yesterday at two o’clock +in the place of the Statuto, Derossi, Garrone, Garoffi, +Precossi, Coretti, father and son, and I, with our provisions +of fruit, sausages, and hard-boiled eggs; we +had also leather bottles and tin cups. Garrone carried +a gourd filled with white wine; Coretti, his father’s +soldier-canteen, full of red wine; and little Precossi, +in the blacksmith’s blouse, held under his arm a two-kilogramme +loaf.</p> + +<p>We went in the omnibus as far as Gran Madre di +Dio, and then off, as briskly as possible, to the hills. +How green, how shady, how fresh it was! We rolled +over and over in the grass, we dipped our faces in the +rivulets, we leaped the hedges. The elder Coretti +followed us at a distance, with his jacket thrown over +his shoulders, smoking his clay pipe, and from time to +time threatening us with his hand, to prevent our tearing +holes in our trousers.</p> + +<p>Precossi whistled; I had never heard him whistle +before. The younger Coretti did the same, as he went +along. That little fellow knows how to make everything +with his jack-knife a finger’s length long,—mill-wheels, +forks, squirts; and he insisted on carrying the +other boys’ things, and he was loaded down until he +was dripping with perspiration, but he was still as +nimble as a goat. Derossi halted every moment to tell +us the names of the plants and insects. I don’t understand +how he manages to know so many things. +And Garrone nibbled at his bread in silence; but he no +longer attacks it with the cheery bites of old, poor +Garrone! now that he has lost his mother. But he is +always as good as bread himself. When one of us ran +back to obtain the momentum for leaping a ditch, he +ran to the other side, and held out his hands to us;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span> +and as Precossi was afraid of cows, having been tossed +by one when a child, Garrone placed himself in front +of him every time that we passed any. We mounted +up to Santa Margherita, and then went down the decline +by leaps, rolls, and slides. Precossi tumbled into +a thorn-bush, and tore a hole in his blouse, and stood +there overwhelmed with shame, with the strip dangling; +but Garoffi, who always has pins in his jacket, fixed it +so that it was not perceptible, while the other kept saying, +“Excuse me, excuse me,” and then he set out to +run once more.</p> + +<p>Garoffi did not waste his time on the way; he picked +salad herbs and snails, and put every stone that glistened +in the least into his pocket, supposing that there +was gold and silver in it. And on we went, running, +rolling, and climbing through the shade and in the sun, +up and down, through all the lanes and cross-roads, +until we arrived dishevelled and breathless at the crest +of a hill, where we seated ourselves to take our lunch +on the grass.</p> + +<p>We could see an immense plain, and all the blue Alps +with their white summits. We were dying of hunger; +the bread seemed to be melting. The elder Coretti +handed us our portions of sausage on gourd leaves. +And then we all began to talk at once about the teachers, +the comrades who had not been able to come, and the +examinations. Precossi was rather ashamed to eat, and +Garrone thrust the best bits of his share into his mouth +by force. Coretti was seated next his father, with his +legs crossed; they seem more like two brothers than +father and son, when seen thus together, both rosy and +smiling, with those white teeth of theirs. The father +drank with zest, emptying the bottles and the cups +which we left half finished, and said:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>“Wine hurts you boys who are studying; it is the +wood-sellers who need it.” Then he grasped his son by +the nose, and shook him, saying to us, “Boys, you +must love this fellow, for he is a flower of a man of +honor; I tell you so myself!” And then we all laughed, +except Garrone. And he went on, as he drank, “It’s +a shame, eh! now you are all good friends together, +and in a few years, who knows, Enrico and Derossi will +be lawyers or professors or I don’t know what, and +the other four of you will be in shops or at a trade, +and the deuce knows where, and then—good night +comrades!”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense!” rejoined Derossi; “for me, Garrone +will always be Garrone, Precossi will always be +Precossi, and the same with all the others, were I to +become the emperor of Russia: where they are, there +I shall go also.”</p> + +<p>“Bless you!” exclaimed the elder Coretti, raising +his flask; “that’s the way to talk, by Heavens! Touch +your glass here! Hurrah for brave comrades, and hurrah +for school, which makes one family of you, of those +who have and those who have not!”</p> + +<p>We all clinked his flask with the skins and the cups, +and drank for the last time.</p> + +<p>“Hurrah for the fourth of the 49th!” he cried, as +he rose to his feet, and swallowed the last drop; “and +if you have to do with squadrons too, see that you +stand firm, like us old ones, my lads!”</p> + +<p>It was already late. We descended, running and +singing, and walking long distances all arm in arm, +and we arrived at the Po as twilight fell, and thousands +of fireflies were flitting about. And we only parted in +the Piazza dello Statuto after having agreed to meet +there on the following Sunday, and go to the Vittorio<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> +Emanuele to see the distribution of prizes to the graduates +of the evening schools.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/street.jpg" width="600" height="413" alt="“WE DESCENDED, RUNNING AND SINGING.”" title="“WE DESCENDED, RUNNING AND SINGING.”" /> +<p class="caption">“WE DESCENDED, RUNNING AND SINGING.”</p> +<p class="sig"><a href="images/streetl.jpg">View larger image.</a></p> +</div> + +<p>What a beautiful day! How happy I should have +been on my return home, had I not encountered my poor +schoolmistress! I met her coming down the staircase +of our house, almost in the dark, and, as soon as she +recognized me, she took both my hands, and whispered +in my ear, “Good by, Enrico; remember me!” I perceived +that she was weeping. I went up and told my +mother about it.</p> + +<p>“I have just met my schoolmistress.”—“She was +just going to bed,” replied my mother, whose eyes were +red. And then she added very sadly, gazing intently +at me, “Your poor teacher—is very ill.”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE DISTRIBUTION OF PRIZES TO THE WORKINGMEN.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Sunday, 25th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>As we had agreed, we all went together to the Theatre +Vittorio Emanuele, to view the distribution of +prizes to the workingmen. The theatre was adorned as +on the 14th of March, and thronged, but almost wholly +with the families of workmen; and the pit was occupied +with the male and female pupils of the school of choral +singing. These sang a hymn to the soldiers who had +died in the Crimea; which was so beautiful that, when +it was finished, all rose and clapped and shouted, so +that the song had to be repeated from the beginning. +And then the prize-winners began immediately to march +past the mayor, the prefect, and many others, who presented +them with books, savings-bank books, diplomas, +and medals. In one corner of the pit I espied the little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> +mason, sitting beside his mother; and in another place +there was the head-master; and behind him, the red +head of my master of the second grade.</p> + +<p>The first to defile were the pupils of the evening drawing +classes—the goldsmiths, engravers, lithographers, +and also the carpenters and masons; then those of +the commercial school; then those of the Musical Lyceum, +among them several girls, workingwomen, all +dressed in festal attire, who were saluted with great +applause, and who laughed. Last came the pupils of +the elementary evening schools, and then it began to +be a beautiful sight. They were of all ages, of all +trades, and dressed in all sorts of ways,—men with +gray hair, factory boys, artisans with big black beards. +The little ones were at their ease; the men, a little embarrassed. +The people clapped the oldest and the +youngest, but none of the spectators laughed, as they +did at our festival: all faces were attentive and serious.</p> + +<p>Many of the prize-winners had wives and children in +the pit, and there were little children who, when they +saw their father pass across the stage, called him by +name at the tops of their voices, and signalled to him +with their hands, laughing violently. Peasants passed, +and porters; they were from the Buoncompagni School. +From the Cittadella School there was a bootblack +whom my father knew, and the prefect gave him a +diploma. After him I saw approaching a man as big +as a giant, whom I fancied that I had seen several +times before. It was the father of the little mason, +who had won the second prize. I remembered when I +had seen him in the garret, at the bedside of his sick +son, and I immediately sought out his son in the pit. +Poor little mason! he was staring at his father with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> +beaming eyes, and, in order to conceal his emotion, he +made his hare’s face. At that moment I heard a burst +of applause, and I glanced at the stage: a little chimney-sweep +stood there, with a clean face, but in his +working-clothes, and the mayor was holding him by +the hand and talking to him.</p> + +<p>After the chimney-sweep came a cook; then came +one of the city sweepers, from the Raineri School, to +get a prize. I felt I know not what in my heart,—something +like a great affection and a great respect, at +the thought of how much those prizes had cost all those +workingmen, fathers of families, full of care; how +much toil added to their labors, how many hours +snatched from their sleep, of which they stand in +such great need, and what efforts of intelligences not +habituated to study, and of huge hands rendered +clumsy with work!</p> + +<p>A factory boy passed, and it was evident that his +father had lent him his jacket for the occasion, for his +sleeves hung down so that he was forced to turn them +back on the stage, in order to receive his prize: and +many laughed; but the laugh was speedily stifled by the +applause. Next came an old man with a bald head and +a white beard. Several artillery soldiers passed, from +among those who attended evening school in our schoolhouse; +then came custom-house guards and policemen, +from among those who guard our schools.</p> + +<p>At the conclusion, the pupils of the evening schools +again sang the hymn to the dead in the Crimea, but this +time with so much dash, with a strength of affection +which came so directly from the heart, that the audience +hardly applauded at all, and all retired in deep emotion, +slowly and noiselessly.</p> + +<p>In a few moments the whole street was thronged.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> +In front of the entrance to the theatre was the chimney-sweep, +with his prize book bound in red, and all around +were gentlemen talking to him. Many exchanged salutations +from the opposite side of the street,—workmen, +boys, policemen, teachers. My master of the second +grade came out in the midst of the crowd, between two +artillery men. And there were workmen’s wives with +babies in their arms, who held in their tiny hands their +father’s diploma, and exhibited it to the crowd in their +pride.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>MY DEAD SCHOOLMISTRESS.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Tuesday, 27th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>While we were at the Theatre Vittorio Emanuele, +my poor schoolmistress died. She died at two o’clock, +a week after she had come to see my mother. The head-master +came to the school yesterday morning to announce +it to us; and he said:—</p> + +<p>“Those of you who were her pupils know how good +she was, how she loved her boys: she was a mother to +them. Now, she is no more. For a long time a terrible +malady has been sapping her life. If she had not been +obliged to work to earn her bread, she could have taken +care of herself, and perhaps recovered. At all events, +she could have prolonged her life for several months, if +she had procured a leave of absence. But she wished +to remain among her boys to the very last day. On the +evening of Saturday, the seventeenth, she took leave of +them, with the certainty that she should never see them +again. She gave them good advice, kissed them all, +and went away sobbing. No one will ever behold her +again. Remember her, my boys!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>Little Precossi, who had been one of her pupils in +the upper primary, dropped his head on his desk and +began to cry.</p> + +<p>Yesterday afternoon, after school, we all went together +to the house of the dead woman, to accompany +her to church. There was a hearse in the street, with +two horses, and many people were waiting, and conversing +in a low voice. There was the head-master, all the +masters and mistresses from our school, and from the +other schoolhouses where she had taught in bygone +years. There were nearly all the little children in her +classes, led by the hand by their mothers, who carried +tapers; and there were a very great many from the +other classes, and fifty scholars from the Baretti School, +some with wreaths in their hands, some with bunches +of roses. A great many bouquets of flowers had already +been placed on the hearse, upon which was fastened a +large wreath of acacia, with an inscription in black letters: +<i>The old pupils of the fourth grade to their mistress</i>. +And under the large wreath a little one was +suspended, which the babies had brought. Among the +crowd were visible many servant-women, who had been +sent by their mistresses with candles; and there were +also two serving-men in livery, with lighted torches; +and a wealthy gentleman, the father of one of the mistress’s +scholars, had sent his carriage, lined with blue +satin. All were crowded together near the door. Several +girls were wiping away their tears.</p> + +<p>We waited for a while in silence. At length the casket +was brought out. Some of the little ones began to +cry loudly when they saw the coffin slid into the hearse, +and one began to shriek, as though he had only then +comprehended that his mistress was dead, and he was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> +seized with such a convulsive fit of sobbing, that they +were obliged to carry him away.</p> + +<p>The procession got slowly into line and set out. +First came the daughters of the Ritiro della Concezione, +dressed in green; then the daughters of Maria, +all in white, with a blue ribbon; then the priests; and +behind the hearse, the masters and mistresses, the tiny +scholars of the upper primary, and all the others; and, +at the end of all, the crowd. People came to the +windows and to the doors, and on seeing all those +boys, and the wreath, they said, “It is a schoolmistress.” +Even some of the ladies who accompanied the +smallest children wept.</p> + +<p>When the church was reached, the casket was removed +from the hearse, and carried to the middle of +the nave, in front of the great altar: the mistresses +laid their wreaths on it, the children covered it with +flowers, and the people all about, with lighted candles +in their hands, began to chant the prayers in the vast +and gloomy church. Then, all of a sudden, when the +priest had said the last <i>amen</i>, the candles were extinguished, +and all went away in haste, and the mistress +was left alone. Poor mistress, who was so kind to +me, who had so much patience, who had toiled for so +many years! She has left her little books to her +scholars, and everything which she possessed,—to one +an inkstand, to another a little picture; and two days +before her death, she said to the head-master that he +was not to allow the smallest of them to go to her +funeral, because she did not wish them to cry.</p> + +<p>She has done good, she has suffered, she is dead! +Poor mistress, left alone in that dark church! Farewell! +Farewell forever, my kind friend, sad and +sweet memory of my infancy!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THANKS.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Wednesday, 28th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>My poor schoolmistress wanted to finish her year of +school: she departed only three days before the end +of the lessons. Day after to-morrow we go once more +to the schoolroom to hear the reading of the monthly +story, <i>Shipwreck</i>, and then—it is over. On Saturday, +the first of July, the examinations begin. And then +another year, the fourth, is past! And if my mistress +had not died, it would have passed well.</p> + +<p>I thought over all that I had known on the preceding +October, and it seems to me that I know a good +deal more: I have so many new things in my mind; +I can say and write what I think better than I could +then; I can also do the sums of many grown-up men who +know nothing about it, and help them in their affairs; +and I understand much more: I understand nearly +everything that I read. I am satisfied. But how +many people have urged me on and helped me to learn, +one in one way, and another in another, at home, at +school, in the street,—everywhere where I have been +and where I have seen anything! And now, I thank +you all. I thank you first, my good teacher, for having +been so indulgent and affectionate with me; for +you every new acquisition of mine was a labor, for +which I now rejoice and of which I am proud. I thank +you, Derossi, my admirable companion, for your prompt +and kind explanations, for you have made me understand +many of the most difficult things, and overcome +stumbling-blocks at examinations; and you, too, Stardi, +you brave and strong boy, who have showed me +how a will of iron succeeds in everything: and you, +kind, generous Garrone, who make all those who know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> +you kind and generous too; and you too, Precossi and +Coretti, who have given me an example of courage in +suffering, and of serenity in toil, I render thanks to +you: I render thanks to all the rest. But above all, +I thank thee, my father, thee, my first teacher, my first +friend, who hast given me so many wise counsels, and +hast taught me so many things, whilst thou wert working +for me, always concealing thy sadness from me, +and seeking in all ways to render study easy, and life +beautiful to me; and thee, sweet mother, my beloved +and blessed guardian angel, who hast tasted all my +joys, and suffered all my bitternesses, who hast studied, +worked, and wept with me, with one hand caressing +my brow, and with the other pointing me to +heaven. I kneel before you, as when I was a little +child; I thank you for all the tenderness which you +have instilled into my mind through twelve years of +sacrifices and of love.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>SHIPWRECK.</h3> + +<p class="title">(<i>Last Monthly Story.</i>)</p> + +<p>One morning in the month of December, several +years ago, there sailed from the port of Liverpool a +huge steamer, which had on board two hundred persons, +including a crew of sixty. The captain and +nearly all the sailors were English. Among the passengers +there were several Italians,—three gentlemen, +a priest, and a company of musicians. The steamer +was bound for the island of Malta. The weather was +threatening.</p> + +<p>Among the third-class passengers forward, was an +Italian lad of a dozen years, small for his age, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span> +robust; a bold, handsome, austere face, of Sicilian +type. He was alone near the fore-mast, seated on a +coil of cordage, beside a well-worn valise, which contained +his effects, and upon which he kept a hand. +His face was brown, and his black and wavy hair +descended to his shoulders. He was meanly clad, and +had a tattered mantle thrown over his shoulders, and +an old leather pouch on a cross-belt. He gazed thoughtfully +about him at the passengers, the ship, the sailors +who were running past, and at the restless sea. He +had the appearance of a boy who has recently issued +from a great family sorrow,—the face of a child, the +expression of a man.</p> + +<p>A little after their departure, one of the steamer’s +crew, an Italian with gray hair, made his appearance +on the bow, holding by the hand a little girl; and +coming to a halt in front of the little Sicilian, he said +to him:—</p> + +<p>“Here’s a travelling companion for you, Mario.” +Then he went away.</p> + +<p>The girl seated herself on the pile of cordage beside +the boy.</p> + +<p>They surveyed each other.</p> + +<p>“Where are you going?” asked the Sicilian.</p> + +<p>The girl replied: “To Malta on the way of Naples.” +Then she added: “I am going to see my father and +mother, who are expecting me. My name is Giulietta +Faggiani.”</p> + +<p>The boy said nothing.</p> + +<p>After the lapse of a few minutes, he drew some +bread from his pouch, and some dried fruit; the girl +had some biscuits: they began to eat.</p> + +<p>“Look sharp there!” shouted the Italian sailor, as +he passed rapidly; “a lively time is at hand!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>The wind continued to increase, the steamer pitched +heavily; but the two children, who did not suffer +from seasickness, paid no heed to it. The little girl +smiled. She was about the same age as her companion, +but was considerably taller, brown of complexion, +slender, somewhat sickly, and dressed more than modestly. +Her hair was short and curling, she wore a red +kerchief over her head, and two hoops of silver in her +ears.</p> + +<p>As they ate, they talked about themselves and their +affairs. The boy had no longer either father or mother. +The father, an artisan, had died a few days previously +in Liverpool, leaving him alone; and the Italian consul +had sent him back to his country, to Palermo, where +he had still some distant relatives left. The little girl +had been taken to London, the year before, by a widowed +aunt, who was very fond of her, and to whom +her parents—poor people—had given her for a time, +trusting in a promise of an inheritance; but the aunt +had died a few months later, run over by an omnibus, +without leaving a centesimo; and then she too had had +recourse to the consul, who had shipped her to Italy. +Both had been recommended to the care of the Italian +sailor.—“So,” concluded the little maid, “my father +and mother thought that I would return rich, and instead +I am returning poor. But they will love me all +the same. And so will my brothers. I have four, all +small. I am the oldest at home. I dress them. They +will be greatly delighted to see me. They will come in +on tiptoe—The sea is ugly!”</p> + +<p>Then she asked the boy: “And are you going to +stay with your relatives?”</p> + +<p>“Yes—if they want me.”</p> + +<p>“Do not they love you?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know.”</p> + +<p>“I shall be thirteen at Christmas,” said the girl.</p> + +<p>Then they began to talk about the sea, and the +people on board around them. They remained near +each other all day, exchanging a few words now and +then. The passengers thought them brother and sister. +The girl knitted at a stocking, the boy meditated, the +sea continued to grow rougher. At night, as they +parted to go to bed, the girl said to Mario, “Sleep +well.”</p> + +<p>“No one will sleep well, my poor children!” exclaimed +the Italian sailor as he ran past, in answer to +a call from the captain. The boy was on the point of +replying with a “good night” to his little friend, when +an unexpected dash of water dealt him a violent blow, +and flung him against a seat.</p> + +<p>“My dear, you are bleeding!” cried the girl, flinging +herself upon him. The passengers who were making +their escape below, paid no heed to them. The +child knelt down beside Mario, who had been stunned +by the blow, wiped the blood from his brow, and pulling +the red kerchief from her hair, she bound it about +his head, then pressed his head to her breast in order +to knot the ends, and thus received a spot of blood on +her yellow bodice just above the girdle. Mario shook +himself and rose:</p> + +<p>“Are you better?” asked the girl.</p> + +<p>“I no longer feel it,” he replied.</p> + +<p>“Sleep well,” said Giulietta.</p> + +<p>“Good night,” responded Mario. And they descended +two neighboring sets of steps to their dormitories.</p> + +<p>The sailor’s prediction proved correct. Before they +could get to sleep, a frightful tempest had broken<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span> +loose. It was like the sudden onslaught of furious +great horses, which in the course of a few minutes split +one mast, and carried away three boats which were +suspended to the falls, and four cows on the bow, like +leaves. On board the steamer there arose a confusion, +a terror, an uproar, a tempest of shrieks, wails, and +prayers, sufficient to make the hair stand on end. The +tempest continued to increase in fury all night. At +daybreak it was still increasing. The formidable +waves dashing the craft transversely, broke over the +deck, and smashed, split, and hurled everything into +the sea. The platform which screened the engine was +destroyed, and the water dashed in with a terrible roar; +the fires were extinguished; the engineers fled; huge +and impetuous streams forced their way everywhere. +A voice of thunder shouted:</p> + +<p>“To the pumps!” It was the captain’s voice. The +sailors rushed to the pumps. But a sudden burst of +the sea, striking the vessel on the stern, demolished +bulwarks and hatchways, and sent a flood within.</p> + +<p>All the passengers, more dead than alive, had taken +refuge in the grand saloon. At last the captain made +his appearance.</p> + +<p>“Captain! Captain!” they all shrieked in concert. +“What is taking place? Where are we? Is there any +hope! Save us!”</p> + +<p>The captain waited until they were silent, then said +coolly; “Let us be resigned.”</p> + +<p>One woman uttered a cry of “Mercy!” No one +else could give vent to a sound. Terror had frozen +them all. A long time passed thus, in a silence like +that of the grave. All gazed at each other with blanched +faces. The sea continued to rage and roar. The vessel +pitched heavily. At one moment the captain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span> +attempted to launch one life-boat; five sailors entered +it; the boat sank; the waves turned it over, and two +of the sailors were drowned, among them the Italian: +the others contrived with difficulty to catch hold of the +ropes and draw themselves up again.</p> + +<p>After this, the sailors themselves lost all courage. +Two hours later, the vessel was sunk in the water to +the height of the port-holes.</p> + +<p>A terrible spectacle was presented meanwhile on the +deck. Mothers pressed their children to their breasts +in despair; friends exchanged embraces and bade each +other farewell; some went down into the cabins that +they might die without seeing the sea. One passenger +shot himself in the head with a pistol, and fell headlong +down the stairs to the cabin, where he expired. +Many clung frantically to each other; women writhed +in horrible convulsions. There was audible a chorus +of sobs, of infantile laments, of strange and piercing +voices; and here and there persons were visible motionless +as statues, in stupor, with eyes dilated and sightless,—faces +of corpses and madmen. The two children, +Giulietta and Mario, clung to a mast and gazed +at the sea with staring eyes, as though senseless.</p> + +<p>The sea had subsided a little; but the vessel continued +to sink slowly. Only a few minutes remained to +them.</p> + +<p>“Launch the long-boat!” shouted the captain.</p> + +<p>A boat, the last that remained, was thrown into the +water, and fourteen sailors and three passengers descended +into it.</p> + +<p>The captain remained on board.</p> + +<p>“Come down with us!” they shouted to him from +below.</p> + +<p>“I must die at my post,” replied the captain.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span></p> + +<p>“We shall meet a vessel,” the sailors cried to him; +“we shall be saved! Come down! you are lost!”</p> + +<p>“I shall remain.”</p> + +<p>“There is room for one more!” shouted the sailors, +turning to the other passengers. “A woman!”</p> + +<p>A woman advanced, aided by the captain; but on +seeing the distance at which the boat lay, she did not +feel sufficient courage to leap down, and fell back upon +the deck. The other women had nearly all fainted, +and were as dead.</p> + +<p>“A boy!” shouted the sailors.</p> + +<p>At that shout, the Sicilian lad and his companion, +who had remained up to that moment petrified as by +a supernatural stupor, were suddenly aroused again by +a violent instinct to save their lives. They detached +themselves simultaneously from the mast, and rushed +to the side of the vessel, shrieking in concert: “Take +me!” and endeavoring in turn, to drive the other back, +like furious beasts.</p> + +<p>“The smallest!” shouted the sailors. “The boat +is overloaded! The smallest!”</p> + +<p>On hearing these words, the girl dropped her arms, +as though struck by lightning, and stood motionless, +staring at Mario with lustreless eyes.</p> + +<p>Mario looked at her for a moment,—saw the spot +of blood on her bodice,—remembered—The gleam +of a divine thought flashed across his face.</p> + +<p>“The smallest!” shouted the sailors in chorus, with +imperious impatience. “We are going!”</p> + +<p>And then Mario, with a voice which no longer +seemed his own, cried: “She is the lighter! It is for +you, Giulietta! You have a father and mother! I +am alone! I give you my place! Go down!”</p> + +<p>“Throw her into the sea!” shouted the sailors.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mario seized Giulietta by the body, and threw her +into the sea.</p> + +<p>The girl uttered a cry and made a splash; a sailor +seized her by the arm, and dragged her into the boat.</p> + +<p>The boy remained at the vessel’s side, with his head +held high, his hair streaming in the wind,—motionless, +tranquil, sublime.</p> + +<p>The boat moved off just in time to escape the whirlpool +which the vessel produced as it sank, and which +threatened to overturn it.</p> + +<p>Then the girl, who had remained senseless until that +moment, raised her eyes to the boy, and burst into a +storm of tears.</p> + +<p>“Good by, Mario!” she cried, amid her sobs, with +her arms outstretched towards him. “Good by! +Good by! Good by!”</p> + +<p>“Good by!” replied the boy, raising his hand on +high.</p> + +<p>The boat went swiftly away across the troubled sea, +beneath the dark sky. No one on board the vessel +shouted any longer. The water was already lapping +the edge of the deck.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the boy fell on his knees, with his hands +folded and his eyes raised to heaven.</p> + +<p>The girl covered her face.</p> + +<p>When she raised her head again, she cast a glance +over the sea: the vessel was no longer there.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="JULY" id="JULY"></a>JULY.</h2> + +<hr style="width: 10%;" /> + +<h3>THE LAST PAGE FROM MY MOTHER.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Saturday, 1st.<br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">So</span> the year has come to an end, Enrico, and it is well that +you should be left on the last day with the image of the +sublime child, who gave his life for his friend. You are now +about to part from your teachers and companions, and I +must impart to you some sad news. The separation will last +not three months, but forever. Your father, for reasons +connected with his profession, is obliged to leave Turin, and +we are all to go with him.</p> + +<p>We shall go next autumn. You will have to enter a new +school. You are sorry for this, are you not? For I am sure +that you love your old school, where twice a day, for the space +of four years, you have experienced the pleasure of working, +where for so long a time, you have seen, at stated hours, the +same boys, the same teachers, the same parents, and your +own father or mother awaiting you with a smile; your old +school, where your mind first unclosed, where you have +found so many kind companions, where every word that you +have heard has had your good for its object, and where you +have not suffered a single displeasure which has not been +useful to you! Then bear this affection with you, and bid +these boys a hearty farewell. Some of them will experience +misfortunes, they will soon lose their fathers and mothers; +others will die young; others, perhaps, will nobly shed their +blood in battle; many will become brave and honest workmen, +the fathers of honest and industrious workmen like themselves; +and who knows whether there may not also be among<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span> +them one who will render great services to his country, and +make his name glorious. Then part from them with affection; +leave a portion of your soul here, in this great family +into which you entered as a baby, and from which you +emerge a young lad, and which your father and mother loved +so dearly, because you were so much beloved by it.</p> + +<p>School is a mother, my Enrico. It took you from my +arms when you could hardly speak, and now it returns you +to me, strong, good, studious; blessings on it, and may you +never forget it more, my son. Oh, it is impossible that +you should forget it! You will become a man, you will +make the tour of the world, you will see immense cities and +wonderful monuments, and you will remember many among +them; but that modest white edifice, with those closed +shutters and that little garden, where the first flower of +your intelligence budded, you will perceive until the last +day of your life, as I shall always behold the house in which +I heard your voice for the first time.</p> + +<p class="sig"> +Thy Mother.<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE EXAMINATIONS.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Tuesday, 4th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Here are the examinations at last! Nothing else is +to be heard under discussion, in the streets in the +vicinity of the school, from boys, fathers, mothers, and +even tutors; examinations, points, themes, averages, +dismissals, promotions: all utter the same words. +Yesterday morning there was composition; this morning +there is arithmetic. It was touching to see all the +parents, as they conducted their sons to school, giving +them their last advice in the street, and many mothers +accompanied their sons to their seats, to see whether +the inkstand was filled, and to try their pens, and +they still continued to hover round the entrance, and +to say:</p> + +<p>“Courage! Attention! I entreat you.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>Our assistant-master was Coatti, the one with the +black beard, who mimics the voice of a lion, and never +punishes any one. There were boys who were white +with fear. When the master broke the seal of the +letter from the town-hall, and drew out the problem, +not a breath was audible. He announced the problem +loudly, staring now at one, now at another, with +terrible eyes; but we understood that had he been able +to announce the answer also, so that we might all get +promoted, he would have been delighted.</p> + +<p>After an hour of work many began to grow weary, +for the problem was difficult. One cried. Crossi dealt +himself blows on the head. And many of them are not +to blame, poor boys, for not knowing, for they have not +had much time to study, and have been neglected by +their parents. But Providence was at hand. You +should have seen Derossi, and what trouble he took to +help them; how ingenious he was in getting a figure +passed on, and in suggesting an operation, without +allowing himself to be caught; so anxious for all that he +appeared to be our teacher himself. Garrone, too, who +is strong in arithmetic, helped all he could; and he +even assisted Nobis, who, finding himself in a quandary, +was quite gentle.</p> + +<p>Stardi remained motionless for more than an hour, +with his eyes on the problem, and his fists on his temples, +and then he finished the whole thing in five minutes. +The master made his round among the benches, +saying:—</p> + +<p>“Be calm! Be calm! I advise you to be calm!”</p> + +<p>And when he saw that any one was discouraged, he +opened his mouth, as though about to devour him, in +imitation of a lion, in order to make him laugh and +inspire him with courage. Toward eleven o’clock, peep<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span>ing +down through the blinds, I perceived many parents +pacing the street in their impatience. There was Precossi’s +father, in his blue blouse, who had deserted his +shop, with his face still quite black. There was Crossi’s +mother, the vegetable-vender; and Nelli’s mother, +dressed in black, who could not stand still.</p> + +<p>A little before mid-day, my father arrived and raised +his eyes to my window; my dear father! At noon we had +all finished. And it was a sight at the close of school! +Every one ran to meet the boys, to ask questions, to +turn over the leaves of the copy-books to compare them +with the work of their comrades.</p> + +<p>“How many operations? What is the total? And +subtraction? And the answer? And the punctuation +of decimals?”</p> + +<p>All the masters were running about hither and thither, +summoned in a hundred directions.</p> + +<p>My father instantly took from my hand the rough +copy, looked at it, and said, “That’s well.”</p> + +<p>Beside us was the blacksmith, Precossi, who was also +inspecting his son’s work, but rather uneasily, and not +comprehending it. He turned to my father:—</p> + +<p>“Will you do me the favor to tell me the total?”</p> + +<p>My father read the number. The other gazed and +reckoned. “Brave little one!” he exclaimed, in perfect +content. And my father and he gazed at each +other for a moment with a kindly smile, like two +friends. My father offered his hand, and the other +shook it; and they parted, saying, “Farewell until the +oral examination.”</p> + +<p>“Until the oral examination.”</p> + +<p>After proceeding a few paces, we heard a falsetto +voice which made us turn our heads. It was the blacksmith-ironmonger +singing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE LAST EXAMINATION.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Friday, 7th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>This morning we had our oral examinations. At +eight o’clock we were all in the schoolroom, and at a +quarter past they began to call us, four at a time, into +the big hall, where there was a large table covered with +a green cloth; round it were seated the head-master and +four other masters, among them our own. I was one +of the first called out. Poor master! how plainly I +perceived this morning that you are really fond of us! +While they were interrogating the others, he had no +eyes for any one but us. He was troubled when we +were uncertain in our replies; he grew serene when we +gave a fine answer; he heard everything, and made us +a thousand signs with his hand and head, to say to us, +“Good!—no!—pay attention!—slower!—courage!”</p> + +<p>He would have suggested everything to us, had he +been able to talk. If the fathers of all these pupils had +been in his place, one after the other, they could not +have done more. They would have cried “Thanks!” +ten times, in the face of them all. And when the other +masters said to me, “That is well; you may go,” his +eyes beamed with pleasure.</p> + +<p>I returned at once to the schoolroom to wait for my +father. Nearly all were still there. I sat down beside +Garrone. I was not at all cheerful; I was thinking that +it was the last time that we should be near each other +for an hour. I had not yet told Garrone that I should +not go through the fourth grade with him, that I was to +leave Turin with my father. He knew nothing. And +he sat there, doubled up together, with his big head reclining +on the desk, making ornaments round the photo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span>graph +of his father, who was dressed like a machinist, +and who is a tall, large man, with a bull neck and a +serious, honest look, like himself. And as he sat thus +bent together, with his blouse a little open in front, I +saw on his bare and robust breast the gold cross which +Nelli’s mother had presented to him, when she learned +that he protected her son. But it was necessary to +tell him sometime that I was going away. I said to +him:—</p> + +<p>“Garrone, my father is going away from Turin this +autumn, for good. He asked me if I were going, also. +I replied that I was.”</p> + +<p>“You will not go through the fourth grade with us?” +he said to me. I answered “No.”</p> + +<p>Then he did not speak to me for a while, but went +on with his drawing. Then, without raising his head, +he inquired:</p> + +<p>“And shall you remember your comrades of the +third grade?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I told him, “all of them; but you more +than all the rest. Who can forget you?”</p> + +<p>He looked at me fixedly and seriously, with a gaze +that said a thousand things, but he said nothing; he +only offered me his left hand, pretending to continue +his drawing with the other; and I pressed it between +mine, that strong and loyal hand. At that moment the +master entered hastily, with a red face, and said, in a +low, quick voice, with a joyful intonation:—</p> + +<p>“Good, all is going well now, let the rest come forwards; +<i>bravi</i>, boys! Courage! I am extremely well +satisfied.” And, in order to show us his contentment, +and to exhilarate us, as he went out in haste, he made +a motion of stumbling and of catching at the wall, to +prevent a fall; he whom we had never seen laugh!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span> +The thing appeared so strange, that, instead of laughing, +all remained stupefied; all smiled, no one laughed.</p> + +<p>Well, I do not know,—that act of childish joy caused +both pain and tenderness. All his reward was that +moment of cheerfulness,—it was the compensation +for nine months of kindness, patience, and even sorrow! +For that he had toiled so long; for that he had so +often gone to give lessons to a sick boy, poor teacher! +That and nothing more was what he demanded of us, +in exchange for so much affection and so much care!</p> + +<p>And, now, it seems to me that I shall always see +him in the performance of that act, when I recall him +through many years; and when I have become a man, +he will still be alive, and we shall meet, and I will tell +him about that deed which touched my heart; and I +will give him a kiss on his white head.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>FAREWELL.</h3> + +<p class="dat"> +Monday, 10th.<br /> +</p> + +<p>At one o’clock we all assembled once more for the +last time at the school, to hear the results of the examinations, +and to take our little promotion books. The +street was thronged with parents, who had even invaded +the big hall, and many had made their way into +the class-rooms, thrusting themselves even to the master’s +desk: in our room they filled the entire space +between the wall and the front benches. There were +Garrone’s father, Derossi’s mother, the blacksmith +Precossi, Coretti, Signora Nelli, the vegetable-vender, +the father of the little mason, Stardi’s father, and +many others whom I had never seen; and on all sides +a whispering and a hum were audible, that seemed to +proceed from the square outside.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span></p> + +<p>The master entered, and a profound silence ensued. +He had the list in his hand, and began to read at once.</p> + +<p>“Abatucci, promoted, sixty seventieths. Archini, +promoted, fifty-five seventieths.”—The little mason +promoted; Crossi promoted. Then he read loudly:—</p> + +<p>“Ernesto Derossi, promoted, seventy seventieths, +and the first prize.”</p> + +<p>All the parents who were there—and they all knew +him—said:—</p> + +<p>“Bravo, bravo, Derossi!” And he shook his golden +curls, with his easy and beautiful smile, and looked at +his mother, who made him a salute with her hand.</p> + +<p>Garoffi, Garrone, the Calabrian promoted. Then +three or four sent back; and one of them began to cry +because his father, who was at the entrance, made a +menacing gesture at him. But the master said to the +father:—</p> + +<p>“No, sir, excuse me; it is not always the boy’s +fault; it is often his misfortune. And that is the case +here.” Then he read:—</p> + +<p>“Nelli, promoted, sixty-two seventieths.” His +mother sent him a kiss from her fan. Stardi, promoted, +with sixty-seven seventieths! but, at hearing +this fine fate, he did not even smile, or remove his fists +from his temples. The last was Votini, who had come +very finely dressed and brushed,—promoted. After +reading the last name, the master rose and said:—</p> + +<p>“Boys, this is the last time that we shall find ourselves +assembled together in this room. We have been +together a year, and now we part good friends, do we +not? I am sorry to part from you, my dear boys.” +He interrupted himself, then he resumed: “If I have +sometimes failed in patience, if sometimes, without +intending it, I have been unjust, or too severe, forgive +me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>“No, no!” cried the parents and many of the +scholars,—“no, master, never!”</p> + +<p>“Forgive me,” repeated the master, “and think +well of me. Next year you will not be with me; but +I shall see you again, and you will always abide in my +heart. Farewell until we meet again, boys!”</p> + +<p>So saying, he stepped forward among us, and we all +offered him our hands, as we stood up on the seats, +and grasped him by the arms, and by the skirts of his +coat; many kissed him; fifty voices cried in concert:</p> + +<p>“Farewell until we meet again, teacher!—Thanks, +teacher!—May your health be good!—Remember +us!”</p> + +<p>When I went out, I felt oppressed by the commotion. +We all ran out confusedly. Boys were emerging +from all the other class-rooms also. There was a +great mixing and tumult of boys and parents, bidding +the masters and the mistresses good by, and exchanging +greetings among themselves. The mistress with +the red feather had four or five children on top of her, +and twenty around her, depriving her of breath; and +they had half torn off the little nun’s bonnet, and +thrust a dozen bunches of flowers in the button-holes +of her black dress, and in her pockets. Many were +making much of Robetti, who had that day, for the first +time, abandoned his crutches. On all sides the words +were audible:—</p> + +<p>“Good by until next year!—Until the twentieth of +October!” We greeted each other, too. Ah! now +all disagreements were forgotten at that moment! +Votini, who had always been so jealous of Derossi, +was the first to throw himself on him with open arms. +I saluted the little mason, and kissed him, just at the +moment when he was making me his last hare’s face<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span>, +dear boy! I saluted Precossi. I saluted Garoffi, who +announced to me the approach of his last lottery, and +gave me a little paper weight of majolica, with a +broken corner; I said farewell to all the others. It +was beautiful to see poor Nelli clinging to Garrone, so +that he could not be taken from him. All thronged +around Garrone, and it was, “Farewell, Garrone!—Good +by until we meet!” And they touched him, and +pressed his hands, and made much of him, that brave, +sainted boy; and his father was perfectly amazed, as +he looked on and smiled.</p> + +<p>Garrone was the last one whom I embraced in the +street, and I stifled a sob against his breast: he kissed +my brow. Then I ran to my father and mother. My +father asked me: “Have you spoken to all of your +comrades?”</p> + +<p>I replied that I had. “If there is any one of them +whom you have wronged, go and ask his pardon, and +beg him to forget it. Is there no one?”</p> + +<p>“No one,” I answered.</p> + +<p>“Farewell, then,” said my father with a voice full +of emotion, bestowing a last glance on the schoolhouse. +And my mother repeated: “Farewell!”</p> + +<p>And I could not say anything.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<div class="tnote"> +<h3>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE</h3> + + +<p>The original language and spelling have been retained, except +where noted. Minimal typographical errors concerning punctuation have +been corrected without notes.</p> + +<p>The signatures at the end of the following sections<br /></p> +<ul><li><a href="#Page_30">MY MOTHER.</a></li> +<li><a href="#Page_278">POETRY.</a></li> +<li><a href="#Page_290">GARIBALDI.</a></li> +<li><a href="#Page_293">ITALY.</a></li> +<li><a href="#Page_297">MY FATHER.</a></li> +<li><a href="#Page_317">THE LAST PAGE FROM MY MOTHER.</a></li> +</ul> +<p>are missing in the original text and have been added according +to the Italian editions of the book.</p> + +<p>The following changes were made to the original +text:</p> + +<ul> +<li><a href="#tn97">Page 97</a>: two battalions of Italian infantry and two <b>cannon</b><br /> +<i>changed into</i>: two battalions of Italian infantry and two <b>cannons</b></li> + +<li><a href="#tn117">Page 117</a>: replied, that <b>the the</b> man was a mason who had<br /> +<i>changed into</i>: replied, that <b>the</b> man was a mason who had</li> + +<li><a href="#tn177">Page 177</a>: <b>Feruccio</b> stood listening three paces away, leaning<br /> +<i>changed into</i>: <b>Ferruccio</b> stood listening three paces away, leaning</li> + +<li><a href="#tn201">Page 201</a>: with the wound on his neck, who was with <b>Garabaldi</b>,<br /> +<i>changed into</i>: with the wound on his neck, who was with <b>Garibaldi</b>,</li> + +<li><a href="#tn292">Page 292</a>: which <b>anounced</b> the field artillery; and then the<br /> +<i>changed into</i>: which <b>announced</b> the field artillery; and then the</li> +</ul> + +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Cuore (Heart), by Edmondo De Amicis + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CUORE (HEART) *** + +***** This file should be named 28961-h.htm or 28961-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/9/6/28961/ + +Produced by Emanuela Piasentini and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Cuore (Heart) + An Italian Schoolboy's Journal + +Author: Edmondo De Amicis + +Translator: Isabel F. Hapgood + +Release Date: May 24, 2009 [EBook #28961] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CUORE (HEART) *** + + + + +Produced by Emanuela Piasentini and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + + + + [Illustration: + + Cuore + + Edmondo + De + Amicis] + + + [Illustration: "THE BOY HAD WALKED TEN MILES."--Page 123.] + + + + + CUORE + + (HEART) + + AN + + ITALIAN SCHOOLBOY'S JOURNAL + + _A Book for Boys_ + + BY + + EDMONDO DE AMICIS + + _TRANSLATED FROM THE THIRTY-NINTH ITALIAN EDITION_ + + BY + + ISABEL F. HAPGOOD + + NEW YORK + THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY + PUBLISHERS + + + COPYRIGHT, 1887, 1895 and 1901. + + BY THOMAS Y. CROWELL & COMPANY + + COPYRIGHT, 1915. + + BY ISABEL F. HAPGOOD + + Printed in the United States of America + + + + +AUTHOR'S PREFACE + + +THIS book is specially dedicated to the boys of the elementary schools +between the ages of nine and thirteen years, and might be entitled: "The +Story of a Scholastic Year written by a Pupil of the Third Class of an +Italian Municipal School." In saying written by a pupil of the third +class, I do not mean to say that it was written by him exactly as it is +printed. He noted day by day in a copy-book, as well as he knew how, +what he had seen, felt, thought in the school and outside the school; +his father at the end of the year wrote these pages on those notes, +taking care not to alter the thought, and preserving, when it was +possible, the words of his son. Four years later the boy, being then in +the lyceum, read over the MSS. and added something of his own, drawing +on his memories, still fresh, of persons and of things. + +Now read this book, boys; I hope that you will be pleased with it, and +that it may do you good. + + EDMONDO DE AMICIS. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +OCTOBER. + PAGE + THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL 1 + OUR MASTER 3 + AN ACCIDENT 5 + THE CALABRIAN BOY 6 + MY COMRADES 8 + A GENEROUS DEED 10 + MY SCHOOLMISTRESS OF THE UPPER FIRST 12 + IN AN ATTIC 14 + THE SCHOOL 16 + _The Little Patriot of Padua_ 17 + THE CHIMNEY-SWEEP 20 + THE DAY OF THE DEAD 22 + +NOVEMBER. + + MY FRIEND GARRONE 24 + THE CHARCOAL-MAN AND THE GENTLEMAN 26 + MY BROTHER'S SCHOOLMISTRESS 28 + MY MOTHER 30 + MY COMPANION CORETTI 31 + THE HEAD-MASTER 35 + THE SOLDIERS 38 + NELLI'S PROTECTOR 40 + THE HEAD OF THE CLASS 42 + _The Little Vidette of Lombardy_ 44 + THE POOR 50 + +DECEMBER. + + THE TRADER 52 + VANITY 54 + THE FIRST SNOW-STORM 56 + THE LITTLE MASON 58 + A SNOWBALL 61 + THE MISTRESSES 62 + IN THE HOUSE OF THE WOUNDED MAN 64 + _The Little Florentine Scribe_ 66 + WILL 75 + GRATITUDE 77 + +JANUARY. + + THE ASSISTANT MASTER 79 + STARDI'S LIBRARY 81 + THE SON OF THE BLACKSMITH-IRONMONGER 83 + A FINE VISIT 85 + THE FUNERAL OF VITTORIO EMANUELE 87 + FRANTI EXPELLED FROM SCHOOL 89 + _The Sardinian Drummer-Boy_ 91 + THE LOVE OF COUNTRY 100 + ENVY 102 + FRANTI'S MOTHER 104 + HOPE 105 + +FEBRUARY. + + A MEDAL WELL BESTOWED 108 + GOOD RESOLUTIONS 110 + THE ENGINE 112 + PRIDE 114 + THE WOUNDS OF LABOR 116 + THE PRISONER 118 + _Daddy's Nurse_ 122 + THE WORKSHOP 132 + THE LITTLE HARLEQUIN 135 + THE LAST DAY OF THE CARNIVAL 139 + THE BLIND BOYS 142 + THE SICK MASTER 149 + THE STREET 151 + +MARCH. + + THE EVENING SCHOOLS 154 + THE FIGHT 156 + THE BOYS' PARENTS 158 + NUMBER 78 160 + A LITTLE DEAD BOY 163 + THE EVE OF THE FOURTEENTH OF MARCH 164 + THE DISTRIBUTION OF PRIZES 166 + STRIFE 172 + MY SISTER 174 + _Blood of Romagna_ 176 + THE LITTLE MASON ON HIS SICK-BED 184 + COUNT CAVOUR 187 + +APRIL. + + SPRING 189 + KING UMBERTO 191 + THE INFANT ASYLUM 196 + GYMNASTICS 201 + MY FATHER'S TEACHER 204 + CONVALESCENCE 215 + FRIENDS AMONG THE WORKINGMEN 217 + GARRONE'S MOTHER 219 + GIUSEPPE MAZZINI 221 + _Civic Valor_ 223 + +MAY. + + CHILDREN WITH THE RICKETS 229 + SACRIFICE 231 + THE FIRE 233 + _From the Apennines to the Andes_ 237 + SUMMER 276 + POETRY 278 + THE DEAF-MUTE 280 + +JUNE. + + GARIBALDI 290 + THE ARMY 291 + ITALY 293 + THIRTY-TWO DEGREES 295 + MY FATHER 297 + IN THE COUNTRY 298 + THE DISTRIBUTION OF PRIZES TO THE WORKINGMEN 302 + MY DEAD SCHOOLMISTRESS 305 + THANKS 308 + _Shipwreck_ 309 + + JULY. + + THE LAST PAGE FROM MY MOTHER 317 + THE EXAMINATIONS 318 + THE LAST EXAMINATION 321 + FAREWELL 323 + + + + +CUORE. + +AN ITALIAN SCHOOLBOY'S JOURNAL. + + + + +_OCTOBER._ + + +FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL. + + Monday, 17th. + +TO-DAY is the first day of school. These three months of vacation in the +country have passed like a dream. This morning my mother conducted me to +the Baretti schoolhouse to have me enter for the third elementary +course: I was thinking of the country and went unwillingly. All the +streets were swarming with boys: the two book-shops were thronged with +fathers and mothers who were purchasing bags, portfolios, and +copy-books, and in front of the school so many people had collected, +that the beadle and the policeman found it difficult to keep the +entrance disencumbered. Near the door, I felt myself touched on the +shoulder: it was my master of the second class, cheerful, as usual, and +with his red hair ruffled, and he said to me:-- + +"So we are separated forever, Enrico?" + +I knew it perfectly well, yet these words pained me. We made our way in +with difficulty. Ladies, gentlemen, women of the people, workmen, +officials, nuns, servants, all leading boys with one hand, and holding +the promotion books in the other, filled the anteroom and the stairs, +making such a buzzing, that it seemed as though one were entering a +theatre. I beheld again with pleasure that large room on the ground +floor, with the doors leading to the seven classes, where I had passed +nearly every day for three years. There was a throng; the teachers were +going and coming. My schoolmistress of the first upper class greeted me +from the door of the class-room, and said:-- + +"Enrico, you are going to the floor above this year. I shall never see +you pass by any more!" and she gazed sadly at me. The director was +surrounded by women in distress because there was no room for their +sons, and it struck me that his beard was a little whiter than it had +been last year. I found the boys had grown taller and stouter. On the +ground floor, where the divisions had already been made, there were +little children of the first and lowest section, who did not want to +enter the class-rooms, and who resisted like donkeys: it was necessary +to drag them in by force, and some escaped from the benches; others, +when they saw their parents depart, began to cry, and the parents had to +go back and comfort and reprimand them, and the teachers were in +despair. + +My little brother was placed in the class of Mistress Delcati: I was put +with Master Perboni, up stairs on the first floor. At ten o'clock we +were all in our classes: fifty-four of us; only fifteen or sixteen of my +companions of the second class, among them, Derossi, the one who always +gets the first prize. The school seemed to me so small and gloomy when I +thought of the woods and the mountains where I had passed the summer! I +thought again, too, of my master in the second class, who was so good, +and who always smiled at us, and was so small that he seemed to be one +of us, and I grieved that I should no longer see him there, with his +tumbled red hair. Our teacher is tall; he has no beard; his hair is gray +and long; and he has a perpendicular wrinkle on his forehead: he has a +big voice, and he looks at us fixedly, one after the other, as though he +were reading our inmost thoughts; and he never smiles. I said to myself: +"This is my first day. There are nine months more. What toil, what +monthly examinations, what fatigue!" I really needed to see my mother +when I came out, and I ran to kiss her hand. She said to me:-- + +"Courage, Enrico! we will study together." And I returned home content. +But I no longer have my master, with his kind, merry smile, and school +does not seem pleasant to me as it did before. + + +OUR MASTER. + + Tuesday, 18th. + +My new teacher pleases me also, since this morning. While we were coming +in, and when he was already seated at his post, some one of his scholars +of last year every now and then peeped in at the door to salute him; +they would present themselves and greet him:-- + +"Good morning, Signor Teacher!" "Good morning, Signor Perboni!" Some +entered, touched his hand, and ran away. It was evident that they liked +him, and would have liked to return to him. He responded, "Good +morning," and shook the hands which were extended to him, but he looked +at no one; at every greeting his smile remained serious, with that +perpendicular wrinkle on his brow, with his face turned towards the +window, and staring at the roof of the house opposite; and instead of +being cheered by these greetings, he seemed to suffer from them. Then he +surveyed us attentively, one after the other. While he was dictating, he +descended and walked among the benches, and, catching sight of a boy +whose face was all red with little pimples, he stopped dictating, took +the lad's face between his hands and examined it; then he asked him what +was the matter with him, and laid his hand on his forehead, to feel if +it was hot. Meanwhile, a boy behind him got up on the bench, and began +to play the marionette. The teacher turned round suddenly; the boy +resumed his seat at one dash, and remained there, with head hanging, in +expectation of being punished. The master placed one hand on his head +and said to him:-- + +"Don't do so again." Nothing more. + +Then he returned to his table and finished the dictation. When he had +finished dictating, he looked at us a moment in silence; then he said, +very, very slowly, with his big but kind voice:-- + +"Listen. We have a year to pass together; let us see that we pass it +well. Study and be good. I have no family; you are my family. Last year +I had still a mother: she is dead. I am left alone. I have no one but +you in all the world; I have no other affection, no other thought than +you: you must be my sons. I wish you well, and you must like me too. I +do not wish to be obliged to punish any one. Show me that you are boys +of heart: our school shall be a family, and you shall be my consolation +and my pride. I do not ask you to give me a promise on your word of +honor; I am sure that in your hearts you have already answered me 'yes,' +and I thank you." + +At that moment the beadle entered to announce the close of school. We +all left our seats very, very quietly. The boy who had stood up on the +bench approached the master, and said to him, in a trembling voice:-- + +"Forgive me, Signor Master." + +The master kissed him on the brow, and said, "Go, my son." + + +AN ACCIDENT. + + Friday, 21st. + +The year has begun with an accident. On my way to school this morning I +was repeating to my father these words of our teacher, when we perceived +that the street was full of people, who were pressing close to the door +of the schoolhouse. Suddenly my father said: "An accident! The year is +beginning badly!" + +We entered with great difficulty. The big hall was crowded with parents +and children, whom the teachers had not succeeded in drawing off into +the class-rooms, and all were turning towards the director's room, and +we heard the words, "Poor boy! Poor Robetti!" + +Over their heads, at the end of the room, we could see the helmet of a +policeman, and the bald head of the director; then a gentleman with a +tall hat entered, and all said, "That is the doctor." My father inquired +of a master, "What has happened?"--"A wheel has passed over his foot," +replied the latter. "His foot has been crushed," said another. He was a +boy belonging to the second class, who, on his way to school through the +Via Dora Grossa, seeing a little child of the lowest class, who had run +away from its mother, fall down in the middle of the street, a few paces +from an omnibus which was bearing down upon it, had hastened boldly +forward, caught up the child, and placed it in safety; but, as he had +not withdrawn his own foot quickly enough, the wheel of the omnibus had +passed over it. He is the son of a captain of artillery. While we were +being told this, a woman entered the big hall, like a lunatic, and +forced her way through the crowd: she was Robetti's mother, who had been +sent for. Another woman hastened towards her, and flung her arms about +her neck, with sobs: it was the mother of the baby who had been saved. +Both flew into the room, and a desperate cry made itself heard: "Oh my +Giulio! My child!" + +At that moment a carriage stopped before the door, and a little later +the director made his appearance, with the boy in his arms; the latter +leaned his head on his shoulder, with pallid face and closed eyes. Every +one stood very still; the sobs of the mother were audible. The director +paused a moment, quite pale, and raised the boy up a little in his arms, +in order to show him to the people. And then the masters, mistresses, +parents, and boys all murmured together: "Bravo, Robetti! Bravo, poor +child!" and they threw kisses to him; the mistresses and boys who were +near him kissed his hands and his arms. He opened his eyes and said, "My +portfolio!" The mother of the little boy whom he had saved showed it to +him and said, amid her tears, "I will carry it for you, my dear little +angel; I will carry it for you." And in the meantime, the mother of the +wounded boy smiled, as she covered her face with her hands. They went +out, placed the lad comfortably in the carriage, and the carriage drove +away. Then we all entered school in silence. + + +THE CALABRIAN BOY. + + Saturday, 22d. + +Yesterday afternoon, while the master was telling us the news of poor +Robetti, who will have to go on crutches, the director entered with a +new pupil, a lad with a very brown face, black hair, large black eyes, +and thick eyebrows which met on his forehead: he was dressed entirely in +dark clothes, with a black morocco belt round his waist. The director +went away, after speaking a few words in the master's ear, leaving +beside the latter the boy, who glanced about with his big black eyes as +though frightened. The master took him by the hand, and said to the +class: "You ought to be glad. To-day there enters our school a little +Italian born in Reggio, in Calabria, more than five hundred miles from +here. Love your brother who has come from so far away. He was born in a +glorious land, which has given illustrious men to Italy, and which now +furnishes her with stout laborers and brave soldiers; in one of the most +beautiful lands of our country, where there are great forests, and great +mountains, inhabited by people full of talent and courage. Treat him +well, so that he shall not perceive that he is far away from the city in +which he was born; make him see that an Italian boy, in whatever Italian +school he sets his foot, will find brothers there." So saying, he rose +and pointed out on the wall map of Italy the spot where lay Reggio, in +Calabria. Then he called loudly:-- + +"Ernesto Derossi!"--the boy who always has the first prize. Derossi +rose. + +"Come here," said the master. Derossi left his bench and stepped up to +the little table, facing the Calabrian. + +"As the head boy in the school," said the master to him, "bestow the +embrace of welcome on this new companion, in the name of the whole +class--the embrace of the sons of Piedmont to the son of Calabria." + +Derossi embraced the Calabrian, saying in his clear voice, "Welcome!" +and the other kissed him impetuously on the cheeks. All clapped their +hands. "Silence!" cried the master; "don't clap your hands in school!" +But it was evident that he was pleased. And the Calabrian was pleased +also. The master assigned him a place, and accompanied him to the bench. +Then he said again:-- + +"Bear well in mind what I have said to you. In order that this case +might occur, that a Calabrian boy should be as though in his own house +at Turin, and that a boy from Turin should be at home in Calabria, our +country fought for fifty years, and thirty thousand Italians died. You +must all respect and love each other; but any one of you who should give +offence to this comrade, because he was not born in our province, would +render himself unworthy of ever again raising his eyes from the earth +when he passes the tricolored flag." + +Hardly was the Calabrian seated in his place, when his neighbors +presented him with pens and a _print_; and another boy, from the last +bench, sent him a Swiss postage-stamp. + + +MY COMRADES. + + Tuesday, 25th. + +The boy who sent the postage-stamp to the Calabrian is the one who +pleases me best of all. His name is Garrone: he is the biggest boy in +the class: he is about fourteen years old; his head is large, his +shoulders broad; he is good, as one can see when he smiles; but it seems +as though he always thought like a man. I already know many of my +comrades. Another one pleases me, too, by the name of Coretti, and he +wears chocolate-colored trousers and a catskin cap: he is always jolly; +he is the son of a huckster of wood, who was a soldier in the war of +1866, in the squadron of Prince Umberto, and they say that he has three +medals. There is little Nelli, a poor hunchback, a weak boy, with a thin +face. There is one who is very well dressed, who always wears fine +Florentine plush, and is named Votini. On the bench in front of me there +is a boy who is called "the little mason" because his father is a mason: +his face is as round as an apple, with a nose like a small ball; he +possesses a special talent: he knows how to make _a hare's face_, and +they all get him to make a hare's face, and then they laugh. He wears a +little ragged cap, which he carries rolled up in his pocket like a +handkerchief. Beside the little mason there sits Garoffi, a long, thin, +silly fellow, with a nose and beak of a screech owl, and very small +eyes, who is always trafficking in little pens and images and +match-boxes, and who writes the lesson on his nails, in order that he +may read it on the sly. Then there is a young gentleman, Carlo Nobis, +who seems very haughty; and he is between two boys who are sympathetic +to me,--the son of a blacksmith-ironmonger, clad in a jacket which +reaches to his knees, who is pale, as though from illness, who always +has a frightened air, and who never laughs; and one with red hair, who +has a useless arm, and wears it suspended from his neck; his father has +gone away to America, and his mother goes about peddling pot-herbs. And +there is another curious type,--my neighbor on the left,--Stardi--small +and thickset, with no neck,--a gruff fellow, who speaks to no one, and +seems not to understand much, but stands attending to the master without +winking, his brow corrugated with wrinkles, and his teeth clenched; and +if he is questioned when the master is speaking, he makes no reply the +first and second times, and the third time he gives a kick: and beside +him there is a bold, cunning face, belonging to a boy named Franti, who +has already been expelled from another district. There are, in addition, +two brothers who are dressed exactly alike, who resemble each other to a +hair, and both of whom wear caps of Calabrian cut, with a peasant's +plume. But handsomer than all the rest, the one who has the most talent, +who will surely be the head this year also, is Derossi; and the master, +who has already perceived this, always questions him. But I like +Precossi, the son of the blacksmith-ironmonger, the one with the long +jacket, who seems sickly. They say that his father beats him; he is very +timid, and every time that he addresses or touches any one, he says, +"Excuse me," and gazes at them with his kind, sad eyes. But Garrone is +the biggest and the nicest. + + +A GENEROUS DEED. + + Wednesday, 26th. + +It was this very morning that Garrone let us know what he is like. When +I entered the school a little late, because the mistress of the upper +first had stopped me to inquire at what hour she could find me at home, +the master had not yet arrived, and three or four boys were tormenting +poor Crossi, the one with the red hair, who has a dead arm, and whose +mother sells vegetables. They were poking him with rulers, hitting him +in the face with chestnut shells, and were making him out to be a +cripple and a monster, by mimicking him, with his arm hanging from his +neck. And he, alone on the end of the bench, and quite pale, began to be +affected by it, gazing now at one and now at another with beseeching +eyes, that they might leave him in peace. But the others mocked him +worse than ever, and he began to tremble and to turn crimson with rage. +All at once, Franti, the boy with the repulsive face, sprang upon a +bench, and pretending that he was carrying a basket on each arm, he aped +the mother of Crossi, when she used to come to wait for her son at the +door; for she is ill now. Many began to laugh loudly. Then Crossi lost +his head, and seizing an inkstand, he hurled it at the other's head with +all his strength; but Franti dodged, and the inkstand struck the master, +who entered at the moment, full in the breast. + +All flew to their places, and became silent with terror. + +The master, quite pale, went to his table, and said in a constrained +voice:-- + +"Who did it?" + +No one replied. + +The master cried out once more, raising his voice still louder, "Who is +it?" + +Then Garrone, moved to pity for poor Crossi, rose abruptly and said, +resolutely, "It was I." + +The master looked at him, looked at the stupefied scholars; then said in +a tranquil voice, "It was not you." + +And, after a moment: "The culprit shall not be punished. Let him rise!" + +Crossi rose and said, weeping, "They were striking me and insulting me, +and I lost my head, and threw it." + +"Sit down," said the master. "Let those who provoked him rise." + +Four rose, and hung their heads. + +"You," said the master, "have insulted a companion who had given you no +provocation; you have scoffed at an unfortunate lad, you have struck a +weak person who could not defend himself. You have committed one of the +basest, the most shameful acts with which a human creature can stain +himself. Cowards!" + +Having said this, he came down among the benches, put his hand under +Garrone's chin, as the latter stood with drooping head, and having made +him raise it, he looked him straight in the eye, and said to him, "You +are a noble soul." + +Garrone profited by the occasion to murmur some words, I know not what, +in the ear of the master; and he, turning towards the four culprits, +said, abruptly, "I forgive you." + + +MY SCHOOLMISTRESS OF THE UPPER FIRST. + + Thursday, 27th. + +My schoolmistress has kept her promise which she made, and came to-day +just as I was on the point of going out with my mother to carry some +linen to a poor woman recommended by the _Gazette_. It was a year since +I had seen her in our house. We all made a great deal of her. She is +just the same as ever, a little thing, with a green veil wound about her +bonnet, carelessly dressed, and with untidy hair, because she has not +time to keep herself nice; but with a little less color than last year, +with some white hairs, and a constant cough. My mother said to her:-- + +"And your health, my dear mistress? You do not take sufficient care of +yourself!" + +"It does not matter," the other replied, with her smile, at once +cheerful and melancholy. + +"You speak too loud," my mother added; "you exert yourself too much with +your boys." + +That is true; her voice is always to be heard; I remember how it was +when I went to school to her; she talked and talked all the time, so +that the boys might not divert their attention, and she did not remain +seated a moment. I felt quite sure that she would come, because she +never forgets her pupils; she remembers their names for years; on the +days of the monthly examination, she runs to ask the director what marks +they have won; she waits for them at the entrance, and makes them show +her their compositions, in order that she may see what progress they +have made; and many still come from the gymnasium to see her, who +already wear long trousers and a watch. To-day she had come back in a +great state of excitement, from the picture-gallery, whither she had +taken her boys, just as she had conducted them all to a museum every +Thursday in years gone by, and explained everything to them. The poor +mistress has grown still thinner than of old. But she is always brisk, +and always becomes animated when she speaks of her school. She wanted to +have a peep at the bed on which she had seen me lying very ill two years +ago, and which is now occupied by my brother; she gazed at it for a +while, and could not speak. She was obliged to go away soon to visit a +boy belonging to her class, the son of a saddler, who is ill with the +measles; and she had besides a package of sheets to correct, a whole +evening's work, and she has still a private lesson in arithmetic to give +to the mistress of a shop before nightfall. + +"Well, Enrico," she said to me as she was going, "are you still fond of +your schoolmistress, now that you solve difficult problems and write +long compositions?" She kissed me, and called up once more from the foot +of the stairs: "You are not to forget me, you know, Enrico!" Oh, my kind +teacher, never, never will I forget thee! Even when I grow up I will +remember thee and will go to seek thee among thy boys; and every time +that I pass near a school and hear the voice of a schoolmistress, I +shall think that I hear thy voice, and I shall recall the two years that +I passed in thy school, where I learned so many things, where I so often +saw thee ill and weary, but always earnest, always indulgent, in despair +when any one acquired a bad trick in the writing-fingers, trembling when +the examiners interrogated us, happy when we made a good appearance, +always kind and loving as a mother. Never, never shall I forget thee, my +teacher! + + +IN AN ATTIC. + + Friday, 28th. + +Yesterday afternoon I went with my mother and my sister Sylvia, to carry +the linen to the poor woman recommended by the newspaper: I carried the +bundle; Sylvia had the paper with the initials of the name and the +address. We climbed to the very roof of a tall house, to a long corridor +with many doors. My mother knocked at the last; it was opened by a woman +who was still young, blond and thin, and it instantly struck me that I +had seen her many times before, with that very same blue kerchief that +she wore on her head. + +"Are you the person of whom the newspaper says so and so?" asked my +mother. + +"Yes, signora, I am." + +"Well, we have brought you a little linen." Then the woman began to +thank us and bless us, and could not make enough of it. Meanwhile I +espied in one corner of the bare, dark room, a boy kneeling in front of +a chair, with his back turned towards us, who appeared to be writing; +and he really was writing, with his paper on the chair and his inkstand +on the floor. How did he manage to write thus in the dark? While I was +saying this to myself, I suddenly recognized the red hair and the coarse +jacket of Crossi, the son of the vegetable-pedler, the boy with the +useless arm. I told my mother softly, while the woman was putting away +the things. + +"Hush!" replied my mother; "perhaps he will feel ashamed to see you +giving alms to his mother: don't speak to him." + +But at that moment Crossi turned round; I was embarrassed; he smiled, +and then my mother gave me a push, so that I should run to him and +embrace him. I did embrace him: he rose and took me by the hand. + +"Here I am," his mother was saying in the meantime to my mother, "alone +with this boy, my husband in America these seven years, and I sick in +addition, so that I can no longer make my rounds with my vegetables, and +earn a few cents. We have not even a table left for my poor Luigino to +do his work on. When there was a bench down at the door, he could, at +least, write on the bench; but that has been taken away. He has not even +a little light so that he can study without ruining his eyes. And it is +a mercy that I can send him to school, since the city provides him with +books and copy-books. Poor Luigino, who would be so glad to study! +Unhappy woman, that I am!" + +My mother gave her all that she had in her purse, kissed the boy, and +almost wept as we went out. And she had good cause to say to me: "Look +at that poor boy; see how he is forced to work, when you have every +comfort, and yet study seems hard to you! Ah! Enrico, there is more +merit in the work which he does in one day, than in your work for a +year. It is to such that the first prizes should be given!" + + +THE SCHOOL. + + Friday, 28th. + + Yes, study comes hard to you, my dear Enrico, as your mother says: + I do not yet see you set out for school with that resolute mind and + that smiling face which I should like. You are still intractable. + But listen; reflect a little! What a miserable, despicable thing + your day would be if you did not go to school! At the end of a week + you would beg with clasped hands that you might return there, for + you would be eaten up with weariness and shame; disgusted with your + sports and with your existence. Everybody, everybody studies now, + my child. Think of the workmen who go to school in the evening + after having toiled all the day; think of the women, of the girls + of the people, who go to school on Sunday, after having worked all + the week; of the soldiers who turn to their books and copy-books + when they return exhausted from their drill! Think of the dumb and + of the boys who are blind, but who study, nevertheless; and last of + all, think of the prisoners, who also learn to read and write. + Reflect in the morning, when you set out, that at that very moment, + in your own city, thirty thousand other boys are going like + yourself, to shut themselves up in a room for three hours and + study. Think of the innumerable boys who, at nearly this precise + hour, are going to school in all countries. Behold them with your + imagination, going, going, through the lanes of quiet villages; + through the streets of the noisy towns, along the shores of rivers + and lakes; here beneath a burning sun; there amid fogs, in boats, + in countries which are intersected with canals; on horseback on the + far-reaching plains; in sledges over the snow; through valleys and + over hills; across forests and torrents, over the solitary paths of + mountains; alone, in couples, in groups, in long files, all with + their books under their arms, clad in a thousand ways, speaking a + thousand tongues, from the most remote schools in Russia. Almost + lost in the ice to the furthermost schools of Arabia, shaded by + palm-trees, millions and millions, all going to learn the same + things, in a hundred varied forms. Imagine this vast, vast throng + of boys of a hundred races, this immense movement of which you form + a part, and think, if this movement were to cease, humanity would + fall back into barbarism; this movement is the progress, the hope, + the glory of the world. Courage, then, little soldier of the + immense army. Your books are your arms, your class is your + squadron, the field of battle is the whole earth, and the victory + is human civilization. Be not a cowardly soldier, my Enrico. + + THY FATHER. + + +THE LITTLE PATRIOT OF PADUA. + +(_The Monthly Story._) + + Saturday, 29th. + +I will not be a _cowardly soldier_, no; but I should be much more +willing to go to school if the master would tell us a story every day, +like the one he told us this morning. "Every month," said he, "I shall +tell you one; I shall give it to you in writing, and it will always be +the tale of a fine and noble deed performed by a boy. This one is +called _The Little Patriot of Padua_. Here it is. A French steamer set +out from Barcelona, a city in Spain, for Genoa; there were on board +Frenchmen, Italians, Spaniards, and Swiss. Among the rest was a lad of +eleven, poorly clad, and alone, who always held himself aloof, like a +wild animal, and stared at all with gloomy eyes. He had good reasons for +looking at every one with forbidding eyes. Two years previous to this +time his parents, peasants in the neighborhood of Padua, had sold him to +a company of mountebanks, who, after they had taught him how to perform +tricks, by dint of blows and kicks and starving, had carried him all +over France and Spain, beating him continually and never giving him +enough to eat. On his arrival in Barcelona, being no longer able to +endure ill treatment and hunger, and being reduced to a pitiable +condition, he had fled from his slave-master and had betaken himself for +protection to the Italian consul, who, moved with compassion, had placed +him on board of this steamer, and had given him a letter to the +treasurer of Genoa, who was to send the boy back to his parents--to the +parents who had sold him like a beast. The poor lad was lacerated and +weak. He had been assigned to the second-class cabin. Every one stared +at him; some questioned him, but he made no reply, and seemed to hate +and despise every one, to such an extent had privation and affliction +saddened and irritated him. Nevertheless, three travellers, by dint of +persisting in their questions, succeeded in making him unloose his +tongue; and in a few rough words, a mixture of Venetian, French, and +Spanish, he related his story. These three travellers were not Italians, +but they understood him; and partly out of compassion, partly because +they were excited with wine, they gave him soldi, jesting with him and +urging him on to tell them other things; and as several ladies entered +the saloon at the moment, they gave him some more money for the purpose +of making a show, and cried: 'Take this! Take this, too!' as they made +the money rattle on the table. + +"The boy pocketed it all, thanking them in a low voice, with his surly +mien, but with a look that was for the first time smiling and +affectionate. Then he climbed into his berth, drew the curtain, and lay +quiet, thinking over his affairs. With this money he would be able to +purchase some good food on board, after having suffered for lack of +bread for two years; he could buy a jacket as soon as he landed in +Genoa, after having gone about clad in rags for two years; and he could +also, by carrying it home, insure for himself from his father and mother +a more humane reception than would have fallen to his lot if he had +arrived with empty pockets. This money was a little fortune for him; and +he was taking comfort out of this thought behind the curtain of his +berth, while the three travellers chatted away, as they sat round the +dining-table in the second-class saloon. They were drinking and +discussing their travels and the countries which they had seen; and from +one topic to another they began to discuss Italy. One of them began to +complain of the inns, another of the railways, and then, growing warmer, +they all began to speak evil of everything. One would have preferred a +trip in Lapland; another declared that he had found nothing but +swindlers and brigands in Italy; the third said that Italian officials +do not know how to read. + +"'It's an ignorant nation,' repeated the first. 'A filthy nation,' added +the second. 'Ro--' exclaimed the third, meaning to say 'robbers'; but +he was not allowed to finish the word: a tempest of soldi and half-lire +descended upon their heads and shoulders, and leaped upon the table and +the floor with a demoniacal noise. All three sprang up in a rage, looked +up, and received another handful of coppers in their faces. + +"'Take back your soldi!' said the lad, disdainfully, thrusting his head +between the curtains of his berth; 'I do not accept alms from those who +insult my country.'" + + +THE CHIMNEY-SWEEP. + + November 1st. + +Yesterday afternoon I went to the girls' school building, near ours, to +give the story of the boy from Padua to Silvia's teacher, who wished to +read it. There are seven hundred girls there. Just as I arrived, they +began to come out, all greatly rejoiced at the holiday of All Saints and +All Souls; and here is a beautiful thing that I saw: Opposite the door +of the school, on the other side of the street, stood a very small +chimney-sweep, his face entirely black, with his sack and scraper, with +one arm resting against the wall, and his head supported on his arm, +weeping copiously and sobbing. Two or three of the girls of the second +grade approached him and said, "What is the matter, that you weep like +this?" But he made no reply, and went on crying. + +"Come, tell us what is the matter with you and why you are crying," the +girls repeated. And then he raised his face from his arm,--a baby +face,--and said through his tears that he had been to several houses to +sweep the chimneys, and had earned thirty soldi, and that he had lost +them, that they had slipped through a hole in his pocket,--and he showed +the hole,--and he did not dare to return home without the money. + +"The master will beat me," he said, sobbing; and again dropped his head +upon his arm, like one in despair. The children stood and stared at him +very seriously. In the meantime, other girls, large and small, poor +girls and girls of the upper classes, with their portfolios under their +arms, had come up; and one large girl, who had a blue feather in her +hat, pulled two soldi from her pocket, and said:-- + +"I have only two soldi; let us make a collection." + +"I have two soldi, also," said another girl, dressed in red; "we shall +certainly find thirty soldi among the whole of us"; and then they began +to call out:-- + +"Amalia! Luigia! Annina!--A soldo. Who has any soldi? Bring your soldi +here!" + +Several had soldi to buy flowers or copy-books, and they brought them; +some of the smaller girls gave centesimi; the one with the blue feather +collected all, and counted them in a loud voice:-- + +"Eight, ten, fifteen!" But more was needed. Then one larger than any of +them, who seemed to be an assistant mistress, made her appearance, and +gave half a lira; and all made much of her. Five soldi were still +lacking. + +"The girls of the fourth class are coming; they will have it," said one +girl. The members of the fourth class came, and the soldi showered down. +All hurried forward eagerly; and it was beautiful to see that poor +chimney-sweep in the midst of all those many-colored dresses, of all +that whirl of feathers, ribbons, and curls. The thirty soldi were +already obtained, and more kept pouring in; and the very smallest who +had no money made their way among the big girls, and offered their +bunches of flowers, for the sake of giving something. All at once the +portress made her appearance, screaming:-- + +"The Signora Directress!" The girls made their escape in all directions, +like a flock of sparrows; and then the little chimney-sweep was visible, +alone, in the middle of the street, wiping his eyes in perfect content, +with his hands full of money, and the button-holes of his jacket, his +pockets, his hat, were full of flowers; and there were even flowers on +the ground at his feet. + + +THE DAY OF THE DEAD. + +(_All-Souls-Day._) + + November 2d. + + This day is consecrated to the commemoration of the dead. Do you + know, Enrico, that all you boys should, on this day, devote a + thought to those who are dead? To those who have died for you,--for + boys and little children. How many have died, and how many are + dying continually! Have you ever reflected how many fathers have + worn out their lives in toil? how many mothers have descended to + the grave before their time, exhausted by the privations to which + they have condemned themselves for the sake of sustaining their + children? Do you know how many men have planted a knife in their + hearts in despair at beholding their children in misery? how many + women have drowned themselves or have died of sorrow, or have gone + mad, through having lost a child? Think of all these dead on this + day, Enrico. Think of how many schoolmistresses have died young, + have pined away through the fatigues of the school, through love of + the children, from whom they had not the heart to tear + themselves away; think of the doctors who have perished of + contagious diseases, having courageously sacrificed themselves to + cure the children; think of all those who in shipwrecks, in + conflagrations, in famines, in moments of supreme danger, have + yielded to infancy the last morsel of bread, the last place of + safety, the last rope of escape from the flames, to expire content + with their sacrifice, since they preserved the life of a little + innocent. Such dead as these are innumerable, Enrico; every + graveyard contains hundreds of these sainted beings, who, if they + could rise for a moment from their graves, would cry the name of a + child to whom they sacrificed the pleasures of youth, the peace of + old age, their affections, their intelligence, their life: wives of + twenty, men in the flower of their strength, octogenarians, + youths,--heroic and obscure martyrs of infancy,--so grand and so + noble, that the earth does not produce as many flowers as should + strew their graves. To such a degree are ye loved, O children! + Think to-day on those dead with gratitude, and you will be kinder + and more affectionate to all those who love you, and who toil for + you, my dear, fortunate son, who, on the day of the dead, have, as + yet, no one to grieve for. + + THY MOTHER. + + + + + [Illustration: THE CHARCOAL MAN AND THE GENTLEMAN.--Page 27.] + + + + +NOVEMBER. + + +MY FRIEND GARRONE. + + Friday, 4th. + +THERE had been but two days of vacation, yet it seemed to me as though I +had been a long time without seeing Garrone. The more I know him, the +better I like him; and so it is with all the rest, except with the +overbearing, who have nothing to say to him, because he does not permit +them to exhibit their oppression. Every time that a big boy raises his +hand against a little one, the little one shouts, "Garrone!" and the big +one stops striking him. His father is an engine-driver on the railway; +he has begun school late, because he was ill for two years. He is the +tallest and the strongest of the class; he lifts a bench with one hand; +he is always eating; and he is good. Whatever he is asked for,--a +pencil, rubber, paper, or penknife,--he lends or gives it; and he +neither talks nor laughs in school: he always sits perfectly motionless +on a bench that is too narrow for him, with his spine curved forward, +and his big head between his shoulders; and when I look at him, he +smiles at me with his eyes half closed, as much as to say, "Well, +Enrico, are we friends?" He makes me laugh, because, tall and broad as +he is, he has a jacket, trousers, and sleeves which are too small for +him, and too short; a cap which will not stay on his head; a threadbare +cloak; coarse shoes; and a necktie which is always twisted into a cord. +Dear Garrone! it needs but one glance in thy face to inspire love for +thee. All the little boys would like to be near his bench. He knows +arithmetic well. He carries his books bound together with a strap of red +leather. He has a knife, with a mother-of-pearl handle, which he found +in the field for military manoeuvres, last year, and one day he cut his +finger to the bone; but no one in school envies him it, and no one +breathes a word about it at home, for fear of alarming his parents. He +lets us say anything to him in jest, and he never takes it ill; but woe +to any one who says to him, "That is not true," when he affirms a thing: +then fire flashes from his eyes, and he hammers down blows enough to +split the bench. Saturday morning he gave a soldo to one of the upper +first class, who was crying in the middle of the street, because his own +had been taken from him, and he could not buy his copy-book. For the +last three days he has been working over a letter of eight pages, with +pen ornaments on the margins, for the saint's day of his mother, who +often comes to get him, and who, like himself, is tall and large and +sympathetic. The master is always glancing at him, and every time that +he passes near him he taps him on the neck with his hand, as though he +were a good, peaceable young bull. I am very fond of him. I am happy +when I press his big hand, which seems to be the hand of a man, in mine. +I am almost certain that he would risk his life to save that of a +comrade; that he would allow himself to be killed in his defence, so +clearly can I read his eyes; and although he always seems to be +grumbling with that big voice of his, one feels that it is a voice that +comes from a gentle heart. + + +THE CHARCOAL-MAN AND THE GENTLEMAN. + + Monday, 7th. + +Garrone would certainly never have uttered the words which Carlo Nobis +spoke yesterday morning to Betti. Carlo Nobis is proud, because his +father is a great gentleman; a tall gentleman, with a black beard, and +very serious, who accompanies his son to school nearly every day. +Yesterday morning Nobis quarrelled with Betti, one of the smallest boys, +and the son of a charcoal-man, and not knowing what retort to make, +because he was in the wrong, said to him vehemently, "Your father is a +tattered beggar!" Betti reddened up to his very hair, and said nothing, +but the tears came to his eyes; and when he returned home, he repeated +the words to his father; so the charcoal-dealer, a little man, who was +black all over, made his appearance at the afternoon session, leading +his boy by the hand, in order to complain to the master. While he was +making his complaint, and every one was silent, the father of Nobis, who +was taking off his son's coat at the entrance, as usual, entered on +hearing his name pronounced, and demanded an explanation. + +"This workman has come," said the master, "to complain that your son +Carlo said to his boy, 'Your father is a tattered beggar.'" + +Nobis's father frowned and reddened slightly. Then he asked his son, +"Did you say that?" + +His son, who was standing in the middle of the school, with his head +hanging, in front of little Betti, made no reply. + +Then his father grasped him by one arm and pushed him forward, facing +Betti, so that they nearly touched, and said to him, "Beg his pardon." + +The charcoal-man tried to interpose, saying, "No, no!" but the gentleman +paid no heed to him, and repeated to his son, "Beg his pardon. Repeat my +words. 'I beg your pardon for the insulting, foolish, and ignoble words +which I uttered against your father, whose hand my father would feel +himself honored to press.'" + +The charcoal-man made a resolute gesture, as though to say, "I will not +allow it." The gentleman did not second him, and his son said slowly, in +a very thread of a voice, without raising his eyes from the ground, "I +beg your pardon--for the insulting--foolish--ignoble--words which I +uttered against your father, whose hand my father--would feel himself +honored--to press." + +Then the gentleman offered his hand to the charcoal-man, who shook it +vigorously, and then, with a sudden push, he thrust his son into the +arms of Carlo Nobis. + +"Do me the favor to place them next each other," said the gentleman to +the master. The master put Betti on Nobis's bench. When they were +seated, the father of Nobis bowed and went away. + +The charcoal-man remained standing there in thought for several moments, +gazing at the two boys side by side; then he approached the bench, and +fixed upon Nobis a look expressive of affection and regret, as though he +were desirous of saying something to him, but he did not say anything; +he stretched out his hand to bestow a caress upon him, but he did not +dare, and merely stroked his brow with his large fingers. Then he made +his way to the door, and turning round for one last look, he +disappeared. + +"Fix what you have just seen firmly in your minds, boys," said the +master; "this is the finest lesson of the year." + + +MY BROTHER'S SCHOOLMISTRESS. + + Thursday, 10th. + +The son of the charcoal-man had been a pupil of that schoolmistress +Delcati who had come to see my brother when he was ill, and who had made +us laugh by telling us how, two years ago, the mother of this boy had +brought to her house a big apronful of charcoal, out of gratitude for +her having given the medal to her son; and the poor woman had persisted, +and had not been willing to carry the coal home again, and had wept when +she was obliged to go away with her apron quite full. And she told us, +also, of another good woman, who had brought her a very heavy bunch of +flowers, inside of which there was a little hoard of soldi. We had been +greatly diverted in listening to her, and so my brother had swallowed +his medicine, which he had not been willing to do before. How much +patience is necessary with those boys of the lower first, all toothless, +like old men, who cannot pronounce their r's and s's; and one coughs, +and another has the nosebleed, and another loses his shoes under the +bench, and another bellows because he has pricked himself with his pen, +and another one cries because he has bought copy-book No. 2 instead of +No. 1. Fifty in a class, who know nothing, with those flabby little +hands, and all of them must be taught to write; they carry in their +pockets bits of licorice, buttons, phial corks, pounded brick,--all +sorts of little things, and the teacher has to search them; but they +conceal these objects even in their shoes. And they are not attentive: a +fly enters through the window, and throws them all into confusion; and +in summer they bring grass into school, and horn-bugs, which fly round +in circles or fall into the inkstand, and then streak the copy-books all +over with ink. The schoolmistress has to play mother to all of them, to +help them dress themselves, bandage up their pricked fingers, pick up +their caps when they drop them, watch to see that they do not exchange +coats, and that they do not indulge in cat-calls and shrieks. Poor +schoolmistresses! And then the mothers come to complain: "How comes it, +signorina, that my boy has lost his pen? How does it happen that mine +learns nothing? Why is not my boy mentioned honorably, when he knows so +much? Why don't you have that nail which tore my Piero's trousers, taken +out of the bench?" + +Sometimes my brother's teacher gets into a rage with the boys; and when +she can resist no longer, she bites her finger, to keep herself from +dealing a blow; she loses patience, and then she repents, and caresses +the child whom she has scolded; she sends a little rogue out of school, +and then swallows her tears, and flies into a rage with parents who make +the little ones fast by way of punishment. Schoolmistress Delcati is +young and tall, well-dressed, brown of complexion, and restless; she +does everything vivaciously, as though on springs, is affected by a mere +trifle, and at such times speaks with great tenderness. + +"But the children become attached to you, surely," my mother said to +her. + +"Many do," she replied; "but at the end of the year the majority of them +pay no further heed to us. When they are with the masters, they are +almost ashamed of having been with us--with a woman teacher. After two +years of cares, after having loved a child so much, it makes us feel sad +to part from him; but we say to ourselves, 'Oh, I am sure of that one; +he is fond of me.' But the vacation over, he comes back to school. I run +to meet him; 'Oh, my child, my child!' And he turns his head away." Here +the teacher interrupted herself. "But you will not do so, little one?" +she said, raising her humid eyes, and kissing my brother. "You will not +turn aside your head, will you? You will not deny your poor friend?" + + +MY MOTHER. + + Thursday, November 10th. + + In the presence of your brother's teacher you failed in respect to + your mother! Let this never happen again, my Enrico, never again! + Your irreverent word pierced my heart like a point of steel. I + thought of your mother when, years ago, she bent the whole of one + night over your little bed, measuring your breathing, weeping blood + in her anguish, and with her teeth chattering with terror, because + she thought that she had lost you, and I feared that she would lose + her reason; and at this thought I felt a sentiment of horror at + you. You, to offend your mother! your mother, who would give a year + of happiness to spare you one hour of pain, who would beg for you, + who would allow herself to be killed to save your life! Listen, + Enrico. Fix this thought well in your mind. Reflect that you are + destined to experience many terrible days in the course of your + life: the most terrible will be that on which you lose your mother. + A thousand times, Enrico, after you are a man, strong, and inured + to all fates, you will invoke her, oppressed with an intense desire + to hear her voice, if but for a moment, and to see once more her + open arms, into which you can throw yourself sobbing, like a poor + child bereft of comfort and protection. How you will then recall + every bitterness that you have caused her, and with what remorse + you will pay for all, unhappy wretch! Hope for no peace in your + life, if you have caused your mother grief. You will repent, you + will beg her forgiveness, you will venerate her memory--in vain; + conscience will give you no rest; that sweet and gentle image will + always wear for you an expression of sadness and of reproach which + will put your soul to torture. Oh, Enrico, beware; this is the most + sacred of human affections; unhappy he who tramples it under foot. + The assassin who respects his mother has still something honest and + noble in his heart; the most glorious of men who grieves and + offends her is but a vile creature. Never again let a harsh word + issue from your lips, for the being who gave you life. And if one + should ever escape you, let it not be the fear of your father, but + let it be the impulse of your soul, which casts you at her feet, to + beseech her that she will cancel from your brow, with the kiss of + forgiveness, the stain of ingratitude. I love you, my son; you are + the dearest hope of my life; but I would rather see you dead than + ungrateful to your mother. Go away, for a little space; offer me no + more of your caresses; I should not be able to return them from my + heart. + + THY FATHER. + + +MY COMPANION CORETTI. + + Sunday, 13th. + +My father forgave me; but I remained rather sad and then my mother sent +me, with the porter's big son, to take a walk on the Corso. Half-way +down the Corso, as we were passing a cart which was standing in front of +a shop, I heard some one call me by name: I turned round; it was +Coretti, my schoolmate, with chocolate-colored clothes and his catskin +cap, all in a perspiration, but merry, with a big load of wood on his +shoulders. A man who was standing in the cart was handing him an armful +of wood at a time, which he took and carried into his father's shop, +where he piled it up in the greatest haste. + +"What are you doing, Coretti?" I asked him. + +"Don't you see?" he answered, reaching out his arms to receive the load; +"I am reviewing my lesson." + +I laughed; but he seemed to be serious, and, having grasped the armful +of wood, he began to repeat as he ran, "_The conjugation of the +verb--consists in its variations according to number--according to +number and person--_" + +And then, throwing down the wood and piling it, "_according to the +time--according to the time to which the action refers._" + +And turning to the cart for another armful, "_according to the mode in +which the action is enunciated._" + +It was our grammar lesson for the following day. "What would you have me +do?" he said. "I am putting my time to use. My father has gone off with +the man on business; my mother is ill. It falls to me to do the +unloading. In the meantime, I am going over my grammar lesson. It is a +difficult lesson to-day; I cannot succeed in getting it into my +head.--My father said that he would be here at seven o'clock to give you +your money," he said to the man with the cart. + +The cart drove off. "Come into the shop a minute," Coretti said to me. I +went in. It was a large apartment, full of piles of wood and fagots, +with a steelyard on one side. + +"This is a busy day, I can assure you," resumed Coretti; "I have to do +my work by fits and starts. I was writing my phrases, when some +customers came in. I went to writing again, and behold, that cart +arrived. I have already made two trips to the wood market in the Piazza +Venezia this morning. My legs are so tired that I cannot stand, and my +hands are all swollen. I should be in a pretty pickle if I had to draw!" +And as he spoke he set about sweeping up the dry leaves and the straw +which covered the brick-paved floor. + +"But where do you do your work, Coretti?" I inquired. + +"Not here, certainly," he replied. "Come and see"; and he led me into a +little room behind the shop, which serves as a kitchen and dining-room, +with a table in one corner, on which there were books and copy-books, +and work which had been begun. "Here it is," he said; "I left the second +answer unfinished: _with which shoes are made, and belts_. Now I will +add, _and valises_." And, taking his pen, he began to write in his fine +hand. + +"Is there any one here?" sounded a call from the shop at that moment. It +was a woman who had come to buy some little fagots. + +"Here I am!" replied Coretti; and he sprang out, weighed the fagots, +took the money, ran to a corner to enter the sale in a shabby old +account-book, and returned to his work, saying, "Let's see if I can +finish that sentence." And he wrote, _travelling-bags, and knapsacks for +soldiers_. "Oh, my poor coffee is boiling over!" he exclaimed, and ran +to the stove to take the coffee-pot from the fire. "It is coffee for +mamma," he said; "I had to learn how to make it. Wait a while, and we +will carry it to her; you'll see what pleasure it will give her. She has +been in bed a whole week.--Conjugation of the verb! I always scald my +fingers with this coffee-pot. What is there that I can add after the +soldiers' knapsacks? Something more is needed, and I can think of +nothing. Come to mamma." + +He opened a door, and we entered another small room: there Coretti's +mother lay in a big bed, with a white kerchief wound round her head. + +"Ah, brave little master!" said the woman to me; "you have come to visit +the sick, have you not?" + +Meanwhile, Coretti was arranging the pillows behind his mother's back, +readjusting the bedclothes, brightening up the fire, and driving the cat +off the chest of drawers. + +"Do you want anything else, mamma?" he asked, as he took the cup from +her. "Have you taken the two spoonfuls of syrup? When it is all gone, I +will make a trip to the apothecary's. The wood is unloaded. At four +o'clock I will put the meat on the stove, as you told me; and when the +butter-woman passes, I will give her those eight soldi. Everything will +go on well; so don't give it a thought." + +"Thanks, my son!" replied the woman. "Go, my poor boy!--he thinks of +everything." + +She insisted that I should take a lump of sugar; and then Coretti showed +me a little picture,--the photograph portrait of his father dressed as a +soldier, with the medal for bravery which he had won in 1866, in the +troop of Prince Umberto: he had the same face as his son, with the same +vivacious eyes and his merry smile. + +We went back to the kitchen. "I have found the thing," said Coretti; and +he added on his copy-book, _horse-trappings are also made of it_. "The +rest I will do this evening; I shall sit up later. How happy you are, to +have time to study and to go to walk, too!" And still gay and active, he +re-entered the shop, and began to place pieces of wood on the horse and +to saw them, saying: "This is gymnastics; it is quite different from +the _throw your arms forwards_. I want my father to find all this wood +sawed when he gets home; how glad he will be! The worst part of it is +that after sawing I make T's and L's which look like snakes, so the +teacher says. What am I to do? I will tell him that I have to move my +arms about. The important thing is to have mamma get well quickly. She +is better to-day, thank Heaven! I will study my grammar to-morrow +morning at cock-crow. Oh, here's the cart with logs! To work!" + +A small cart laden with logs halted in front of the shop. Coretti ran +out to speak to the man, then returned: "I cannot keep your company any +longer now," he said; "farewell until to-morrow. You did right to come +and hunt me up. A pleasant walk to you! happy fellow!" + +And pressing my hand, he ran to take the first log, and began once more +to trot back and forth between the cart and the shop, with a face as +fresh as a rose beneath his catskin cap, and so alert that it was a +pleasure to see him. + +"Happy fellow!" he had said to me. Ah, no, Coretti, no; you are the +happier, because you study and work too; because you are of use to your +father and your mother; because you are better--a hundred times +better--and more courageous than I, my dear schoolmate. + + +THE HEAD-MASTER. + + Friday, 18th. + +Coretti was pleased this morning, because his master of the second +class, Coatti, a big man, with a huge head of curly hair, a great black +beard, big dark eyes, and a voice like a cannon, had come to assist in +the work of the monthly examination. He is always threatening the boys +that he will break them in pieces and carry them by the nape of the neck +to the quaestor, and he makes all sorts of frightful faces; but he never +punishes any one, but always smiles the while behind his beard, so that +no one can see it. There are eight masters in all, including Coatti, and +a little, beardless assistant, who looks like a boy. There is one master +of the fourth class, who is lame and always wrapped up in a big woollen +scarf, and who is always suffering from pains which he contracted when +he was a teacher in the country, in a damp school, where the walls were +dripping with moisture. Another of the teachers of the fourth is old and +perfectly white-haired, and has been a teacher of the blind. There is +one well-dressed master, with eye-glasses, and a blond mustache, who is +called the _little lawyer_, because, while he was teaching, he studied +law and took his diploma; and he is also making a book to teach how to +write letters. On the other hand, the one who teaches gymnastics is of a +soldierly type, and was with Garibaldi, and has on his neck a scar from +a sabre wound received at the battle of Milazzo. Then there is the +head-master, who is tall and bald, and wears gold spectacles, with a +gray beard that flows down upon his breast; he dresses entirely in +black, and is always buttoned up to the chin. He is so kind to the boys, +that when they enter the director's room, all in a tremble, because they +have been summoned to receive a reproof, he does not scold them, but +takes them by the hand, and tells them so many reasons why they ought +not to behave so, and why they should be sorry, and promise to be good, +and he speaks in such a kind manner, and in so gentle a voice, that they +all come out with red eyes, more confused than if they had been +punished. Poor head-master! he is always the first at his post in the +morning, waiting for the scholars and lending an ear to the parents; and +when the other masters are already on their way home, he is still +hovering about the school, and looking out that the boys do not get +under the carriage-wheels, or hang about the streets to stand on their +heads, or fill their bags with sand or stones; and the moment he makes +his appearance at a corner, so tall and black, flocks of boys scamper +off in all directions, abandoning their games of coppers and marbles, +and he threatens them from afar with his forefinger, with his sad and +loving air. No one has ever seen him smile, my mother says, since the +death of his son, who was a volunteer in the army: he always keeps the +latter's portrait before his eyes, on a little table in the +head-master's room. He wanted to go away after this misfortune; he +prepared his application for retirement to the Municipal Council, and +kept it always on his table, putting off sending it from day to day, +because it grieved him to leave the boys. But the other day he seemed +undecided; and my father, who was in the director's room with him, was +just saying to him, "What a shame it is that you are going away, Signor +Director!" when a man entered for the purpose of inscribing the name of +a boy who was to be transferred from another schoolhouse to ours, +because he had changed his residence. At the sight of this boy, the +head-master made a gesture of astonishment, gazed at him for a while, +gazed at the portrait that he keeps on his little table, and then stared +at the boy again, as he drew him between his knees, and made him hold up +his head. This boy resembled his dead son. The head-master said, "It is +all right," wrote down his name, dismissed the father and son, and +remained absorbed in thought. "What a pity that you are going away!" +repeated my father. And then the head-master took up his application for +retirement, tore it in two, and said, "I shall remain." + + +THE SOLDIERS. + + Tuesday, 22d. + +His son had been a volunteer in the army when he died: this is the +reason why the head-master always goes to the Corso to see the soldiers +pass, when we come out of school. Yesterday a regiment of infantry was +passing, and fifty boys began to dance around the band, singing and +beating time with their rulers on their bags and portfolios. We were +standing in a group on the sidewalk, watching them: Garrone, squeezed +into his clothes, which were too tight for him, was biting at a large +piece of bread; Votini, the well-dressed boy, who always wears Florence +plush; Precossi, the son of the blacksmith, with his father's jacket; +and the Calabrian; and the "little mason"; and Crossi, with his red +head; and Franti, with his bold face; and Robetti, too, the son of the +artillery captain, the boy who saved the child from the omnibus, and who +now walks on crutches. Franti burst into a derisive laugh, in the face +of a soldier who was limping. But all at once he felt a man's hand on +his shoulder: he turned round; it was the head-master. "Take care," said +the master to him; "jeering at a soldier when he is in the ranks, when +he can neither avenge himself nor reply, is like insulting a man who is +bound: it is baseness." + +Franti disappeared. The soldiers were marching by fours, all perspiring +and covered with dust, and their guns were gleaming in the sun. The +head-master said:-- + +"You ought to feel kindly towards soldiers, boys. They are our +defenders, who would go to be killed for our sakes, if a foreign army +were to menace our country to-morrow. They are boys too; they are not +many years older than you; and they, too, go to school; and there are +poor men and gentlemen among them, just as there are among you, and they +come from every part of Italy. See if you cannot recognize them by their +faces; Sicilians are passing, and Sardinians, and Neapolitans, and +Lombards. This is an old regiment, one of those which fought in 1848. +They are not the same soldiers, but the flag is still the same. How many +have already died for our country around that banner twenty years before +you were born!" + +"Here it is!" said Garrone. And in fact, not far off, the flag was +visible, advancing, above the heads of the soldiers. + +"Do one thing, my sons," said the head-master; "make your scholar's +salute, with your hand to your brow, when the tricolor passes." + +The flag, borne by an officer, passed before us, all tattered and faded, +and with the medals attached to the staff. We put our hands to our +foreheads, all together. The officer looked at us with a smile, and +returned our salute with his hand. + +"Bravi, boys!" said some one behind us. We turned to look; it was an old +man who wore in his button-hole the blue ribbon of the Crimean +campaign--a pensioned officer. "Bravi!" he said; "you have done a fine +deed." + +In the meantime, the band of the regiment had made a turn at the end of +the Corso, surrounded by a throng of boys, and a hundred merry shouts +accompanied the blasts of the trumpets, like a war-song. + +"Bravi!" repeated the old officer, as he gazed upon us; "he who respects +the flag when he is little will know how to defend it when he is grown +up." + + +NELLI'S PROTECTOR. + + Wednesday, 23d. + +Nelli, too, poor little hunchback! was looking at the soldiers +yesterday, but with an air as though he were thinking, "I can never be a +soldier!" He is good, and he studies; but he is so puny and wan, and he +breathes with difficulty. He always wears a long apron of shining black +cloth. His mother is a little blond woman who dresses in black, and +always comes to get him at the end of school, so that he may not come +out in the confusion with the others, and she caresses him. At first +many of the boys ridiculed him, and thumped him on the back with their +bags, because he is so unfortunate as to be a hunchback; but he never +offered any resistance, and never said anything to his mother, in order +not to give her the pain of knowing that her son was the laughing-stock +of his companions: they derided him, and he held his peace and wept, +with his head laid against the bench. + +But one morning Garrone jumped up and said, "The first person who +touches Nelli will get such a box on the ear from me that he will spin +round three times!" + +Franti paid no attention to him; the box on the ear was delivered: the +fellow spun round three times, and from that time forth no one ever +touched Nelli again. The master placed Garrone near him, on the same +bench. They have become friends. Nelli has grown very fond of Garrone. +As soon as he enters the schoolroom he looks to see if Garrone is there. +He never goes away without saying, "Good by, Garrone," and Garrone does +the same with him. + +When Nelli drops a pen or a book under the bench, Garrone stoops +quickly, to prevent his stooping and tiring himself, and hands him his +book or his pen, and then he helps him to put his things in his bag and +to twist himself into his coat. For this Nelli loves him, and gazes at +him constantly; and when the master praises Garrone he is pleased, as +though he had been praised himself. Nelli must at last have told his +mother all about the ridicule of the early days, and what they made him +suffer; and about the comrade who defended him, and how he had grown +fond of the latter; for this is what happened this morning. The master +had sent me to carry to the director, half an hour before the close of +school, a programme of the lesson, and I entered the office at the same +moment with a small blond woman dressed in black, the mother of Nelli, +who said, "Signor Director, is there in the class with my son a boy +named Garrone?" + +"Yes," replied the head-master. + +"Will you have the goodness to let him come here for a moment, as I have +a word to say to him?" + +The head-master called the beadle and sent him to the school, and after +a minute Garrone appeared on the threshold, with his big, close-cropped +head, in perfect amazement. No sooner did she catch sight of him than +the woman flew to meet him, threw her arms on his shoulders, and kissed +him a great many times on the head, saying:-- + +"You are Garrone, the friend of my little son, the protector of my poor +child; it is you, my dear, brave boy; it is you!" Then she searched +hastily in all her pockets, and in her purse, and finding nothing, she +detached a chain from her neck, with a small cross, and put it on +Garrone's neck, underneath his necktie, and said to him:-- + +"Take it! wear it in memory of me, my dear boy; in memory of Nelli's +mother, who thanks and blesses you." + + +THE HEAD OF THE CLASS. + + Friday, 25th. + +Garrone attracts the love of all; Derossi, the admiration. He has taken +the first medal; he will always be the first, and this year also; no one +can compete with him; all recognize his superiority in all points. He is +the first in arithmetic, in grammar, in composition, in drawing; he +understands everything on the instant; he has a marvellous memory; he +succeeds in everything without effort; it seems as though study were +play to him. The teacher said to him yesterday:-- + +"You have received great gifts from God; all you have to do is not to +squander them." He is, moreover, tall and handsome, with a great crown +of golden curls; he is so nimble that he can leap over a bench by +resting one hand on it; and he already understands fencing. He is twelve +years old, and the son of a merchant; he is always dressed in blue, with +gilt buttons; he is always lively, merry, gracious to all, and helps all +he can in examinations; and no one has ever dared to do anything +disagreeable to him, or to say a rough word to him. Nobis and Franti +alone look askance at him, and Votini darts envy from his eyes; but he +does not even perceive it. All smile at him, and take his hand or his +arm, when he goes about, in his graceful way, to collect the work. He +gives away illustrated papers, drawings, everything that is given him at +home; he has made a little geographical chart of Calabria for the +Calabrian lad; and he gives everything with a smile, without paying any +heed to it, like a grand gentleman, and without favoritism for any one. +It is impossible not to envy him, not to feel smaller than he in +everything. Ah! I, too, envy him, like Votini. And I feel a bitterness, +almost a certain scorn, for him, sometimes, when I am striving to +accomplish my work at home, and think that he has already finished his, +at this same moment, extremely well, and without fatigue. But then, when +I return to school, and behold him so handsome, so smiling and +triumphant, and hear how frankly and confidently he replies to the +master's questions, and how courteous he is, and how the others all like +him, then all bitterness, all scorn, departs from my heart, and I am +ashamed of having experienced these sentiments. I should like to be +always near him at such times; I should like to be able to do all my +school tasks with him: his presence, his voice, inspire me with courage, +with a will to work, with cheerfulness and pleasure. + +The teacher has given him the monthly story, which will be read +to-morrow, to copy,--_The Little Vidette of Lombardy_. He copied it this +morning, and was so much affected by that heroic deed, that his face was +all aflame, his eyes humid, and his lips trembling; and I gazed at him: +how handsome and noble he was! With what pleasure would I not have said +frankly to his face: "Derossi, you are worth more than I in everything! +You are a man in comparison with me! I respect you and I admire you!" + + +THE LITTLE VIDETTE OF LOMBARDY. + +(_Monthly Story._) + + Saturday, 26th. + +In 1859, during the war for the liberation of Lombardy, a few days after +the battle of Solfarino and San Martino, won by the French and Italians +over the Austrians, on a beautiful morning in the month of June, a +little band of cavalry of Saluzzo was proceeding at a slow pace along a +retired path, in the direction of the enemy, and exploring the country +attentively. The troop was commanded by an officer and a sergeant, and +all were gazing into the distance ahead of them, with eyes fixed, +silent, and prepared at any moment to see the uniforms of the enemy's +advance-posts gleam white before them through the trees. In this order +they arrived at a rustic cabin, surrounded by ash-trees, in front of +which stood a solitary boy, about twelve years old, who was removing the +bark from a small branch with a knife, in order to make himself a stick +of it. From one window of the little house floated a large tricolored +flag; there was no one inside: the peasants had fled, after hanging out +the flag, for fear of the Austrians. As soon as the lad saw the cavalry, +he flung aside his stick and raised his cap. He was a handsome boy, with +a bold face and large blue eyes and long golden hair: he was in his +shirt-sleeves and his breast was bare. + +"What are you doing here?" the officer asked him, reining in his horse. +"Why did you not flee with your family?" + +"I have no family," replied the boy. "I am a foundling. I do a little +work for everybody. I remained here to see the war." + +"Have you seen any Austrians pass?" + +"No; not for these three days." + +The officer paused a while in thought; then he leaped from his horse, +and leaving his soldiers there, with their faces turned towards the foe, +he entered the house and mounted to the roof. The house was low; from +the roof only a small tract of country was visible. "It will be +necessary to climb the trees," said the officer, and descended. Just in +front of the garden plot rose a very lofty and slender ash-tree, which +was rocking its crest in the azure. The officer stood a brief space in +thought, gazing now at the tree, and again at the soldiers; then, all of +a sudden, he asked the lad:-- + +"Is your sight good, you monkey?" + +"Mine?" replied the boy. "I can spy a young sparrow a mile away." + +"Are you good for a climb to the top of this tree?" + +"To the top of this tree? I? I'll be up there in half a minute." + +"And will you be able to tell me what you see up there--if there are +Austrian soldiers in that direction, clouds of dust, gleaming guns, +horses?" + +"Certainly I shall." + +"What do you demand for this service?" + +"What do I demand?" said the lad, smiling. "Nothing. A fine thing, +indeed! And then--if it were for the _Germans_, I wouldn't do it on any +terms; but for our men! I am a Lombard!" + +"Good! Then up with you." + +"Wait a moment, until I take off my shoes." + +He pulled off his shoes, tightened the girth of his trousers, flung his +cap on the grass, and clasped the trunk of the ash. + +"Take care, now!" exclaimed the officer, making a movement to hold him +back, as though seized with a sudden terror. + +The boy turned to look at him, with his handsome blue eyes, as though +interrogating him. + +"No matter," said the officer; "up with you." + +Up went the lad like a cat. + +"Keep watch ahead!" shouted the officer to the soldiers. + +In a few moments the boy was at the top of the tree, twined around the +trunk, with his legs among the leaves, but his body displayed to view, +and the sun beating down on his blond head, which seemed to be of gold. +The officer could hardly see him, so small did he seem up there. + +"Look straight ahead and far away!" shouted the officer. + +The lad, in order to see better, removed his right hand from the tree, +and shaded his eyes with it. + +"What do you see?" asked the officer. + +The boy inclined his head towards him, and making a speaking-trumpet of +his hand, replied, "Two men on horseback, on the white road." + +"At what distance from here?" + +"Half a mile." + +"Are they moving?" + +"They are standing still." + +"What else do you see?" asked the officer, after a momentary silence. +"Look to the right." The boy looked to the right. + +Then he said: "Near the cemetery, among the trees, there is something +glittering. It seems to be bayonets." + +"Do you see men?" + +"No. They must be concealed in the grain." + +At that moment a sharp whiz of a bullet passed high up in the air, and +died away in the distance, behind the house. + +"Come down, my lad!" shouted the officer. "They have seen you. I don't +want anything more. Come down." + +"I'm not afraid," replied the boy. + +"Come down!" repeated the officer. "What else do you see to the left?" + +"To the left?" + +"Yes, to the left." + +The lad turned his head to the left: at that moment, another whistle, +more acute and lower than the first, cut the air. The boy was thoroughly +aroused. "Deuce take them!" he exclaimed. "They actually are aiming at +me!" The bullet had passed at a short distance from him. + +"Down!" shouted the officer, imperious and irritated. + +"I'll come down presently," replied the boy. "But the tree shelters me. +Don't fear. You want to know what there is on the left?" + +"Yes, on the left," answered the officer; "but come down." + +"On the left," shouted the lad, thrusting his body out in that +direction, "yonder, where there is a chapel, I think I see--" + +A third fierce whistle passed through the air, and almost +instantaneously the boy was seen to descend, catching for a moment at +the trunk and branches, and then falling headlong with arms outspread. + +"Curse it!" exclaimed the officer, running up. + +The boy landed on the ground, upon his back, and remained stretched out +there, with arms outspread and supine; a stream of blood flowed from his +breast, on the left. The sergeant and two soldiers leaped from their +horses; the officer bent over and opened his shirt: the ball had entered +his left lung. "He is dead!" exclaimed the officer. + +"No, he still lives!" replied the sergeant.--"Ah, poor boy! brave boy!" +cried the officer. "Courage, courage!" But while he was saying +"courage," he was pressing his handkerchief on the wound. The boy rolled +his eyes wildly and dropped his head back. He was dead. The officer +turned pale and stood for a moment gazing at him; then he laid him down +carefully on his cloak upon the grass; then rose and stood looking at +him; the sergeant and two soldiers also stood motionless, gazing upon +him: the rest were facing in the direction of the enemy. + +"Poor boy!" repeated the officer. "Poor, brave boy!" + +Then he approached the house, removed the tricolor from the window, and +spread it in guise of a funeral pall over the little dead boy, leaving +his face uncovered. The sergeant collected the dead boy's shoes, cap, +his little stick, and his knife, and placed them beside him. + +They stood for a few moments longer in silence; then the officer turned +to the sergeant and said to him, "We will send the ambulance for him: he +died as a soldier; the soldiers shall bury him." Having said this, he +wafted a kiss with his hand to the dead boy, and shouted "To horse!" +All sprang into the saddle, the troop drew together and resumed its +road. + +And a few hours later the little dead boy received the honors of war. + +At sunset the whole line of the Italian advance-posts marched forward +towards the foe, and along the same road which had been traversed in the +morning by the detachment of cavalry, there proceeded, in two files, a +heavy battalion of sharpshooters, who, a few days before, had valiantly +watered the hill of San Martino with blood. The news of the boy's death +had already spread among the soldiers before they left the encampment. +The path, flanked by a rivulet, ran a few paces distant from the house. +When the first officers of the battalion caught sight of the little body +stretched at the foot of the ash-tree and covered with the tricolored +banner, they made the salute to it with their swords, and one of them +bent over the bank of the streamlet, which was covered with flowers at +that spot, plucked a couple of blossoms and threw them on it. Then all +the sharpshooters, as they passed, plucked flowers and threw them on the +body. In a few minutes the boy was covered with flowers, and officers +and soldiers all saluted him as they passed by: "Bravo, little Lombard!" +"Farewell, my lad!" "I salute thee, gold locks!" "Hurrah!" "Glory!" +"Farewell!" One officer tossed him his medal for valor; another went and +kissed his brow. And flowers continued to rain down on his bare feet, on +his blood-stained breast, on his golden head. And there he lay asleep on +the grass, enveloped in his flag, with a white and almost smiling face, +poor boy! as though he heard these salutes and was glad that he had +given his life for his Lombardy. + + +THE POOR. + + Tuesday, 29th. + + To give one's life for one's country as the Lombard boy did, is a + great virtue; but you must not neglect the lesser virtues, my son. + This morning as you walked in front of me, when we were returning + from school, you passed near a poor woman who was holding between + her knees a thin, pale child, and who asked alms of you. You looked + at her and gave her nothing, and yet you had some coppers in your + pocket. Listen, my son. Do not accustom yourself to pass + indifferently before misery which stretches out its hand to you and + far less before a mother who asks a copper for her child. Reflect + that the child may be hungry; think of the agony of that poor + woman. Picture to yourself the sob of despair of your mother, if + she were some day forced to say, "Enrico, I cannot give you any + bread even to-day!" When I give a soldo to a beggar, and he says to + me, "God preserve your health, and the health of all belonging to + you!" you cannot understand the sweetness which these words produce + in my heart, the gratitude that I feel for that poor man. It seems + to me certain that such a good wish must keep one in good health + for a long time, and I return home content, and think, "Oh, that + poor man has returned to me very much more than I gave him!" Well, + let me sometimes feel that good wish called forth, merited by you; + draw a soldo from your little purse now and then, and let it fall + into the hand of a blind man without means of subsistence, of a + mother without bread, of a child without a mother. The poor love + the alms of boys, because it does not humiliate them, and because + boys, who stand in need of everything, resemble themselves: you see + that there are always poor people around the schoolhouses. The alms + of a man is an act of charity; but that of a child is at one and + the same time an act of charity and a caress--do you understand? It + is as though a soldo and a flower fell from your hand together. + Reflect that you lack nothing, and that they lack everything, that + while you aspire to be happy, they are content simply with not + dying. Reflect, that it is a horror, in the midst of so many + palaces, along the streets thronged with carriages, and children + clad in velvet, that there should be women and children who have + nothing to eat. To have nothing to eat! O God! Boys like you, as + good as you, as intelligent as you, who, in the midst of a great + city, have nothing to eat, like wild beasts lost in a desert! Oh, + never again, Enrico, pass a mother who is begging, without placing + a soldo in her hand! + + THY FATHER. + + + + +DECEMBER. + + +THE TRADER. + + Thursday, 1st. + +MY father wishes me to have some one of my companions come to the house +every holiday, or that I should go to see one of them, in order that I +may gradually become friends with all of them. Sunday I shall go to walk +with Votini, the well-dressed boy who is always polishing himself up, +and who is so envious of Derossi. In the meantime, Garoffi came to the +house to-day,--that long, lank boy, with the nose like an owl's beak, +and small, knavish eyes, which seem to be ferreting everywhere. He is +the son of a grocer; he is an eccentric fellow; he is always counting +the soldi that he has in his pocket; he reckons them on his fingers +very, very rapidly, and goes through some process of multiplication +without any tables; and he hoards his money, and already has a book in +the Scholars' Savings Bank. He never spends a soldo, I am positive; and +if he drops a centesimo under the benches, he is capable of hunting for +it for a week. He does as magpies do, so Derossi says. Everything that +he finds--worn-out pens, postage-stamps that have been used, pins, +candle-ends--he picks up. He has been collecting postage-stamps for more +than two years now; and he already has hundreds of them from every +country, in a large album, which he will sell to a bookseller later on, +when he has got it quite full. Meanwhile, the bookseller gives him his +copy-books gratis, because he takes a great many boys to the shop. In +school, he is always bartering; he effects sales of little articles +every day, and lotteries and exchanges; then he regrets the exchange, +and wants his stuff back; he buys for two and gets rid of it for four; +he plays at pitch-penny, and never loses; he sells old newspapers over +again to the tobacconist; and he keeps a little blank-book, in which he +sets down his transactions, which is completely filled with sums and +subtractions. At school he studies nothing but arithmetic; and if he +desires the medal, it is only that he may have a free entrance into the +puppet-show. But he pleases me; he amuses me. We played at keeping a +market, with weights and scales. He knows the exact price of everything; +he understands weighing, and makes handsome paper horns, like +shopkeepers, with great expedition. He declares that as soon as he has +finished school he shall set up in business--in a new business which he +has invented himself. He was very much pleased when I gave him some +foreign postage-stamps; and he informed me exactly how each one sold for +collections. My father pretended to be reading the newspaper; but he +listened to him, and was greatly diverted. His pockets are bulging, full +of his little wares; and he covers them up with a long black cloak, and +always appears thoughtful and preoccupied with business, like a +merchant. But the thing that he has nearest his heart is his collection +of postage-stamps. This is his treasure; and he always speaks of it as +though he were going to get a fortune out of it. His companions accuse +him of miserliness and usury. I do not know: I like him; he teaches me +a great many things; he seems a man to me. Coretti, the son of the +wood-merchant, says that he would not give him his postage-stamps to +save his mother's life. My father does not believe it. + +"Wait a little before you condemn him," he said to me; "he has this +passion, but he has heart as well." + + +VANITY. + + Monday, 5th. + +Yesterday I went to take a walk along the Rivoli road with Votini and +his father. As we were passing through the Via Dora Grossa we saw +Stardi, the boy who kicks disturbers, standing stiffly in front of the +window of a book-shop, with his eyes fixed on a geographical map; and no +one knows how long he had been there, because he studies even in the +street. He barely returned our salute, the rude fellow! Votini was well +dressed--even too much so. He had on morocco boots embroidered in red, +an embroidered coat, small silken frogs, a white beaver hat, and a +watch; and he strutted. But his vanity was destined to come to a bad end +on this occasion. After having run a tolerably long distance up the +Rivoli road, leaving his father, who was walking slowly, a long way in +the rear, we halted at a stone seat, beside a modestly clad boy, who +appeared to be weary, and was meditating, with drooping head. A man, who +must have been his father, was walking to and fro under the trees, +reading the newspaper. We sat down. Votini placed himself between me and +the boy. All at once he recollected that he was well dressed, and wanted +to make his neighbor admire and envy him. + + [Illustration: "STOP THAT, YOU LITTLE RASCALS!"--Page 60.] + +He lifted one foot, and said to me, "Have you seen my officer's boots?" +He said this in order to make the other boy look at them; but the latter +paid no attention to them. + +Then he dropped his foot, and showed me his silk frogs, glancing askance +at the boy the while, and said that these frogs did not please him, and +that he wanted to have them changed to silver buttons; but the boy did +not look at the frogs either. + +Then Votini fell to twirling his very handsome white castor hat on the +tip of his forefinger; but the boy--and it seemed as though he did it on +purpose--did not deign even a glance at the hat. + +Votini, who began to become irritated, drew out his watch, opened it, +and showed me the wheels; but the boy did not turn his head. "Is it of +silver gilt?" I asked him. + +"No," he replied; "it is gold." + +"But not entirely of gold," I said; "there must be some silver with it." + +"Why, no!" he retorted; and, in order to compel the boy to look, he held +the watch before his face, and said to him, "Say, look here! isn't it +true that it is entirely of gold?" + +The boy replied curtly, "I don't know." + +"Oh! oh!" exclaimed Votini, full of wrath, "what pride!" + +As he was saying this, his father came up, and heard him; he looked +steadily at the lad for a moment, then said sharply to his son, "Hold +your tongue!" and, bending down to his ear, he added, "he is blind!" + +Votini sprang to his feet, with a shudder, and stared the boy in the +face: the latter's eyeballs were glassy, without expression, without +sight. + +Votini stood humbled,--speechless,--with his eyes fixed on the ground. +At length he stammered, "I am sorry; I did not know." + +But the blind boy, who had understood it all, said, with a kind and +melancholy smile, "Oh, it's no matter!" + +Well, he is vain; but Votini has not at all a bad heart. He never +laughed again during the whole of the walk. + + +THE FIRST SNOW-STORM. + + Saturday, 10th. + +Farewell, walks to Rivoli! Here is the beautiful friend of the boys! +Here is the first snow! Ever since yesterday evening it has been falling +in thick flakes as large as gillyflowers. It was a pleasure this morning +at school to see it beat against the panes and pile up on the +window-sills; even the master watched it, and rubbed his hands; and all +were glad, when they thought of making snowballs, and of the ice which +will come later, and of the hearth at home. Stardi, entirely absorbed in +his lessons, and with his fists pressed to his temples, was the only one +who paid no attention to it. What beauty, what a celebration there was +when we left school! All danced down the streets, shouting and tossing +their arms, catching up handfuls of snow, and dashing about in it, like +poodles in water. The umbrellas of the parents, who were waiting for +them outside, were all white; the policeman's helmet was white; all our +satchels were white in a few moments. Every one appeared to be beside +himself with joy--even Precossi, the son of the blacksmith, that pale +boy who never laughs; and Robetti, the lad who saved the little child +from the omnibus, poor fellow! he jumped about on his crutches. The +Calabrian, who had never touched snow, made himself a little ball of it, +and began to eat it, as though it had been a peach; Crossi, the son of +the vegetable-vendor, filled his satchel with it; and the little mason +made us burst with laughter, when my father invited him to come to our +house to-morrow. He had his mouth full of snow, and, not daring either +to spit it out or to swallow it, he stood there choking and staring at +us, and made no answer. Even the schoolmistress came out of school on a +run, laughing; and my mistress of the first upper class, poor little +thing! ran through the drizzling snow, covering her face with her green +veil, and coughing; and meanwhile, hundreds of girls from the +neighboring schoolhouse passed by, screaming and frolicking on that +white carpet; and the masters and the beadles and the policemen shouted, +"Home! home!" swallowing flakes of snow, and whitening their moustaches +and beards. But they, too, laughed at this wild hilarity of the +scholars, as they celebrated the winter. + + You hail the arrival of winter; but there are boys who have neither + clothes nor shoes nor fire. There are thousands of them, who + descend to their villages, over a long road, carrying in hands + bleeding from chilblains a bit of wood to warm the schoolroom. + There are hundreds of schools almost buried in the snow, bare and + dismal as caves, where the boys suffocate with smoke or chatter + their teeth with cold as they gaze in terror at the white flakes + which descend unceasingly, which pile up without cessation on their + distant cabins threatened by avalanches. You rejoice in the winter, + boys. Think of the thousands of creatures to whom winter brings + misery and death. + + THY FATHER. + + +THE LITTLE MASON. + + Sunday, 11th. + +The little mason came to-day, in a hunting-jacket, entirely dressed in +the cast-off clothes of his father, which were still white with lime and +plaster. My father was even more anxious than I that he should come. How +much pleasure he gives us! No sooner had he entered than he pulled off +his ragged cap, which was all soaked with snow, and thrust it into one +of his pockets; then he advanced with his listless gait, like a weary +workman, turning his face, as smooth as an apple, with its ball-like +nose, from side to side; and when he entered the dining-room, he cast a +glance round at the furniture and fixed his eyes on a small picture of +Rigoletto, a hunchbacked jester, and made a "hare's face." + +It is impossible to refrain from laughing when one sees him make that +hare's face. We went to playing with bits of wood: he possesses an +extraordinary skill at making towers and bridges, which seem to stand as +though by a miracle, and he works at it quite seriously, with the +patience of a man. Between one tower and another he told me about his +family: they live in a garret; his father goes to the evening school to +learn to read, and his mother is a washerwoman. And they must love him, +of course, for he is clad like a poor boy, but he is well protected from +the cold, with neatly mended clothes, and with his necktie nicely tied +by his mother's hands. His father, he told me, is a fine man,--a giant, +who has trouble in getting through doors, but he is kind, and always +calls his son "hare's face": the son, on the contrary, is rather small. + +At four o'clock we lunched on bread and goat's-milk cheese, as we sat on +the sofa; and when we rose, I do not know why, but my father did not +wish me to brush off the back, which the little mason had spotted with +white, from his jacket: he restrained my hand, and then rubbed it off +himself on the sly. While we were playing, the little mason lost a +button from his hunting-jacket, and my mother sewed it on, and he grew +quite red, and began to watch her sew, in perfect amazement and +confusion, holding his breath the while. Then we gave him some albums of +caricatures to look at, and he, without being aware of it himself, +imitated the grimaces of the faces there so well, that even my father +laughed. He was so much pleased when he went away that he forgot to put +on his tattered cap; and when we reached the landing, he made a hare's +face at me once more in sign of his gratitude. His name is Antonio +Rabucco, and he is eight years and eight months old. + + Do you know, my son, why I did not wish you to wipe off the sofa? + Because to wipe it while your companion was looking on would have + been almost the same as administering a reproof to him for having + soiled it. And this was not well, in the first place, because he + did not do it intentionally, and in the next, because he did it + with the clothes of his father, who had covered them with plaster + while at work; and what is contracted while at work is not dirt; it + is dust, lime, varnish, whatever you like, but it is not dirt. + Labor does not engender dirt. Never say of a laborer coming from + his work, "He is filthy." You should say, "He has on his garments + the signs, the traces, of his toil." Remember this. And you must + love the little mason, first, because he is your comrade; and next, + because he is the son of a workingman. + + THY FATHER. + + +A SNOWBALL. + + Friday, 16th. + +It is still snow, snow. A shameful thing happened in connection with the +snow this morning when we came out of school. A flock of boys had no +sooner got into the Corso than they began to throw balls of that watery +snow which makes missiles as solid and heavy as stones. Many persons +were passing along the sidewalks. A gentleman called out, "Stop that, +you little rascals!" and just at that moment a sharp cry rose from +another part of the street, and we saw an old man who had lost his hat +and was staggering about, covering his face with his hands, and beside +him a boy who was shouting, "Help! help!" + +People instantly ran from all directions. He had been struck in the eye +with a ball. All the boys dispersed, fleeing like arrows. I was standing +in front of the bookseller's shop, into which my father had gone, and I +saw several of my companions approaching at a run, mingling with others +near me, and pretending to be engaged in staring at the windows: there +was Garrone, with his penny roll in his pocket, as usual; Coretti, the +little mason; and Garoffi, the boy with the postage-stamps. In the +meantime a crowd had formed around the old man, and a policeman and +others were running to and fro, threatening and demanding: "Who was it? +Who did it? Was it you? Tell me who did it!" and they looked at the +boys' hands to see whether they were wet with snow. + +Garoffi was standing beside me. I perceived that he was trembling all +over, and that his face was as white as that of a corpse. "Who was it? +Who did it?" the crowd continued to cry. + +Then I overheard Garrone say in a low voice to Garoffi, "Come, go and +present yourself; it would be cowardly to allow any one else to be +arrested." + +"But I did not do it on purpose," replied Garoffi, trembling like a +leaf. + +"No matter; do your duty," repeated Garrone. + +"But I have not the courage." + +"Take courage, then; I will accompany you." + +And the policeman and the other people were crying more loudly than +ever: "Who was it? Who did it? One of his glasses has been driven into +his eye! He has been blinded! The ruffians!" + +I thought that Garoffi would fall to the earth. "Come," said Garrone, +resolutely, "I will defend you;" and grasping him by the arm, he thrust +him forward, supporting him as though he had been a sick man. The people +saw, and instantly understood, and several persons ran up with their +fists raised; but Garrone thrust himself between, crying:-- + +"Do ten men of you set on one boy?" + +Then they ceased, and a policeman seized Garoffi by the hand and led +him, pushing aside the crowd as he went, to a pastry-cook's shop, where +the wounded man had been carried. On catching sight of him, I suddenly +recognized him as the old employee who lives on the fourth floor of our +house with his grandnephew. He was stretched out on a chair, with a +handkerchief over his eyes. + +"I did not do it intentionally!" sobbed Garoffi, half dead with terror; +"I did not do it intentionally!" + +Two or three persons thrust him violently into the shop, crying, "Your +face to the earth! Beg his pardon!" and they threw him to the ground. +But all at once two vigorous arms set him on his feet again, and a +resolute voice said:-- + +"No, gentlemen!" It was our head-master, who had seen it all. "Since he +has had the courage to present himself," he added, "no one has the right +to humiliate him." All stood silent. "Ask his forgiveness," said the +head-master to Garoffi. Garoffi, bursting into tears, embraced the old +man's knees, and the latter, having felt for the boy's head with his +hand, caressed his hair. Then all said:-- + +"Go away, boy! go, return home." + +And my father drew me out of the crowd, and said to me as we passed +along the street, "Enrico, would you have had the courage, under similar +circumstances, to do your duty,--to go and confess your fault?" + +I told him that I should. And he said, "Give me your word, as a lad of +heart and honor, that you would do it." "I give thee my word, father +mine!" + + +THE MISTRESSES. + + Saturday, 17th. + +Garoffi was thoroughly terrified to-day, in the expectation of a severe +punishment from the teacher; but the master did not make his appearance; +and as the assistant was also missing, Signora Cromi, the oldest of the +schoolmistresses, came to teach the school; she has two grown-up +children, and she has taught several women to read and write, who now +come to accompany their sons to the Baretti schoolhouse. + +She was sad to-day, because one of her sons is ill. No sooner had they +caught sight of her, than they began to make an uproar. But she said, in +a slow and tranquil tone, "Respect my white hair; I am not only a +school-teacher, I am also a mother"; and then no one dared to speak +again, in spite of that brazen face of Franti, who contented himself +with jeering at her on the sly. + +Signora Delcati, my brother's teacher, was sent to take charge of +Signora Cromi's class, and to Signora Delcati's was sent the teacher who +is called "the little nun," because she always dresses in dark colors, +with a black apron, and has a small white face, hair that is always +smooth, very bright eyes, and a delicate voice, that seems to be forever +murmuring prayers. And it is incomprehensible, my mother says; she is so +gentle and timid, with that thread of a voice, which is always even, +which is hardly audible, and she never speaks loud nor flies into a +passion; but, nevertheless, she keeps the boys so quiet that you cannot +hear them, and the most roguish bow their heads when she merely +admonishes them with her finger, and her school seems like a church; and +it is for this reason, also, that she is called "the little nun." + +But there is another one who pleases me,--the young mistress of the +first lower, No. 3, that young girl with the rosy face, who has two +pretty dimples in her cheeks, and who wears a large red feather on her +little bonnet, and a small cross of yellow glass on her neck. She is +always cheerful, and keeps her class cheerful; she is always calling out +with that silvery voice of hers, which makes her seem to be singing, and +tapping her little rod on the table, and clapping her hands to impose +silence; then, when they come out of school, she runs after one and +another like a child, to bring them back into line: she pulls up the +cape of one, and buttons the coat of another, so that they may not take +cold; she follows them even into the street, in order that they may not +fall to quarrelling; she beseeches the parents not to whip them at home; +she brings lozenges to those who have coughs; she lends her muff to +those who are cold; and she is continually tormented by the smallest +children, who caress her and demand kisses, and pull at her veil and her +mantle; but she lets them do it, and kisses them all with a smile, and +returns home all rumpled and with her throat all bare, panting and +happy, with her beautiful dimples and her red feather. She is also the +girls' drawing-teacher, and she supports her mother and a brother by her +own labor. + + +IN THE HOUSE OF THE WOUNDED MAN. + + Sunday, 18th. + +The grandnephew of the old employee who was struck in the eye by +Garoffi's snowball is with the schoolmistress who has the red feather: +we saw him to-day in the house of his uncle, who treats him like a son. +I had finished writing out the monthly story for the coming week,--_The +Little Florentine Scribe_,--which the master had given to me to copy; +and my father said to me:-- + +"Let us go up to the fourth floor, and see how that old gentleman's eye +is." + +We entered a room which was almost dark, where the old man was sitting +up in bed, with a great many pillows behind his shoulders; by the +bedside sat his wife, and in one corner his nephew was amusing himself. +The old man's eye was bandaged. He was very glad to see my father; he +made us sit down, and said that he was better, that his eye was not only +not ruined, but that he should be quite well again in a few days. + +"It was an accident," he added. "I regret the terror which it must have +caused that poor boy." Then he talked to us about the doctor, whom he +expected every moment to attend him. Just then the door-bell rang. + +"There is the doctor," said his wife. + +The door opened--and whom did I see? Garoffi, in his long cloak, +standing, with bowed head, on the threshold, and without the courage to +enter. + +"Who is it?" asked the sick man. + +"It is the boy who threw the snowball," said my father. And then the old +man said:-- + +"Oh, my poor boy! come here; you have come to inquire after the wounded +man, have you not? But he is better; be at ease; he is better and almost +well. Come here." + +Garoffi, who did not perceive us in his confusion, approached the bed, +forcing himself not to cry; and the old man caressed him, but could not +speak. + +"Thanks," said the old man; "go and tell your father and mother that all +is going well, and that they are not to think any more about it." + +But Garoffi did not move, and seemed to have something to say which he +dared not utter. + +"What have you to say to me? What is it that you want?" + +"I!--Nothing." + +"Well, good by, until we meet again, my boy; go with your heart in +peace." + +Garoffi went as far as the door; but there he halted, turned to the +nephew, who was following him, and gazed curiously at him. All at once +he pulled some object from beneath his cloak, put it in the boy's hand, +and whispered hastily to him, "It is for you," and away he went like a +flash. + +The boy carried the object to his uncle; we saw that on it was written, +_I give you this_; we looked inside, and uttered an exclamation of +surprise. It was the famous album, with his collection of +postage-stamps, which poor Garoffi had brought, the collection of which +he was always talking, upon which he had founded so many hopes, and +which had cost him so much trouble; it was his treasure, poor boy! it +was the half of his very blood, which he had presented in exchange for +his pardon. + + +THE LITTLE FLORENTINE SCRIBE. + +(_Monthly Story._) + +He was in the fourth elementary class. He was a graceful Florentine lad +of twelve, with black hair and a white face, the eldest son of an +employee on the railway, who, having a large family and but small pay, +lived in straitened circumstances. His father loved him and was +tolerably kind and indulgent to him--indulgent in everything except in +that which referred to school: on this point he required a great deal, +and showed himself severe, because his son was obliged to attain such a +rank as would enable him to soon obtain a place and help his family; and +in order to accomplish anything quickly, it was necessary that he should +work a great deal in a very short time. And although the lad studied, +his father was always exhorting him to study more. + +His father was advanced in years, and too much toil had aged him before +his time. Nevertheless, in order to provide for the necessities of his +family, in addition to the toil which his occupation imposed upon him, +he obtained special work here and there as a copyist, and passed a good +part of the night at his writing-table. Lately, he had undertaken, in +behalf of a house which published journals and books in parts, to write +upon the parcels the names and addresses of their subscribers, and he +earned three lire[1] for every five hundred of these paper wrappers, +written in large and regular characters. But this work wearied him, and +he often complained of it to his family at dinner. + + [1] Sixty cents. + +"My eyes are giving out," he said; "this night work is killing me." One +day his son said to him, "Let me work instead of you, papa; you know +that I can write like you, and fairly well." But the father answered:-- + +"No, my son, you must study; your school is a much more important thing +than my wrappers; I feel remorse at robbing you of a single hour; I +thank you, but I will not have it; do not mention it to me again." + +The son knew that it was useless to insist on such a matter with his +father, and he did not persist; but this is what he did. He knew that +exactly at midnight his father stopped writing, and quitted his workroom +to go to his bedroom; he had heard him several times: as soon as the +twelve strokes of the clock had sounded, he had heard the sound of a +chair drawn back, and the slow step of his father. One night he waited +until the latter was in bed, then dressed himself very, very softly, and +felt his way to the little workroom, lighted the petroleum lamp again, +seated himself at the writing-table, where lay a pile of white wrappers +and the list of addresses, and began to write, imitating exactly his +father's handwriting. And he wrote with a will, gladly, a little in +fear, and the wrappers piled up, and from time to time he dropped the +pen to rub his hands, and then began again with increased alacrity, +listening and smiling. He wrote a hundred and sixty--one lira! Then he +stopped, placed the pen where he had found it, extinguished the light, +and went back to bed on tiptoe. + +At noon that day his father sat down to the table in a good humor. He +had perceived nothing. He performed the work mechanically, measuring it +by the hour, and thinking of something else, and only counted the +wrappers he had written on the following day. He seated himself at the +table in a fine humor, and slapping his son on one shoulder, he said to +him:-- + +"Eh, Giulio! Your father is even a better workman than you thought. In +two hours I did a good third more work than usual last night. My hand is +still nimble, and my eyes still do their duty." And Giulio, silent but +content, said to himself, "Poor daddy, besides the money, I am giving +him some satisfaction in the thought that he has grown young again. +Well, courage!" + +Encouraged by these good results, when night came and twelve o'clock +struck, he rose once more, and set to work. And this he did for several +nights. And his father noticed nothing; only once, at supper, he uttered +this exclamation, "It is strange how much oil has been used in this +house lately!" This was a shock to Giulio; but the conversation ceased +there, and the nocturnal labor proceeded. + +However, by dint of thus breaking his sleep every night, Giulio did not +get sufficient rest: he rose in the morning fatigued, and when he was +doing his school work in the evening, he had difficulty in keeping his +eyes open. One evening, for the first time in his life, he fell asleep +over his copy-book. + +"Courage! courage!" cried his father, clapping his hands; "to work!" + +He shook himself and set to work again. But the next evening, and on the +days following, the same thing occurred, and worse: he dozed over his +books, he rose later than usual, he studied his lessons in a languid +way, he seemed disgusted with study. His father began to observe him, +then to reflect seriously, and at last to reprove him. He should never +have done it! + +"Giulio," he said to him one morning, "you put me quite beside myself; +you are no longer as you used to be. I don't like it. Take care; all the +hopes of your family rest on you. I am dissatisfied; do you understand?" + +At this reproof, the first severe one, in truth, which he had ever +received, the boy grew troubled. + +"Yes," he said to himself, "it is true; it cannot go on so; this deceit +must come to an end." + +But at dinner, on the evening of that very same day, his father said +with much cheerfulness, "Do you know that this month I have earned +thirty-two lire more at addressing those wrappers than last month!" and +so saying, he drew from under the table a paper package of sweets which +he had bought, that he might celebrate with his children this +extraordinary profit, and they all hailed it with clapping of hands. +Then Giulio took heart again, courage again, and said in his heart, "No, +poor papa, I will not cease to deceive you; I will make greater efforts +to work during the day, but I shall continue to work at night for you +and for the rest." And his father added, "Thirty-two lire more! I am +satisfied. But that boy there," pointing at Giulio, "is the one who +displeases me." And Giulio received the reprimand in silence, forcing +back two tears which tried to flow; but at the same time he felt a great +pleasure in his heart. + +And he continued to work by main force; but fatigue added to fatigue +rendered it ever more difficult for him to resist. Thus things went on +for two months. The father continued to reproach his son, and to gaze at +him with eyes which grew constantly more wrathful. One day he went to +make inquiries of the teacher, and the teacher said to him: "Yes, he +gets along, he gets along, because he is intelligent; but he no longer +has the good will which he had at first. He is drowsy, he yawns, his +mind is distracted. He writes short compositions, scribbled down in all +haste, in bad chirography. Oh, he could do a great deal, a great deal +more." + +That evening the father took the son aside, and spoke to him words which +were graver than any the latter had ever heard. "Giulio, you see how I +toil, how I am wearing out my life, for the family. You do not second my +efforts. You have no heart for me, nor for your brothers, nor for your +mother!" + +"Ah no! don't say that, father!" cried the son, bursting into tears, and +opening his mouth to confess all. But his father interrupted him, +saying:-- + +"You are aware of the condition of the family; you know that good will +and sacrifices on the part of all are necessary. I myself, as you see, +have had to double my work. I counted on a gift of a hundred lire from +the railway company this month, and this morning I have learned that I +shall receive nothing!" + +At this information, Giulio repressed the confession which was on the +point of escaping from his soul, and repeated resolutely to himself: +"No, papa, I shall tell you nothing; I shall guard my secret for the +sake of being able to work for you; I will recompense you in another way +for the sorrow which I occasion you; I will study enough at school to +win promotion; the important point is to help you to earn our living, +and to relieve you of the fatigue which is killing you." + +And so he went on, and two months more passed, of labor by night and +weakness by day, of desperate efforts on the part of the son, and of +bitter reproaches on the part of the father. But the worst of it was, +that the latter grew gradually colder towards the boy, only addressed +him rarely, as though he had been a recreant son, of whom there was +nothing any longer to be expected, and almost avoided meeting his +glance. And Giulio perceived this and suffered from it, and when his +father's back was turned, he threw him a furtive kiss, stretching forth +his face with a sentiment of sad and dutiful tenderness; and between +sorrow and fatigue, he grew thin and pale, and he was constrained to +still further neglect his studies. And he understood well that there +must be an end to it some day, and every evening he said to himself, "I +will not get up to-night"; but when the clock struck twelve, at the +moment when he should have vigorously reaffirmed his resolution, he felt +remorse: it seemed to him, that by remaining in bed he should be failing +in a duty, and robbing his father and the family of a lira. And he rose, +thinking that some night his father would wake up and discover him, or +that he would discover the deception by accident, by counting the +wrappers twice; and then all would come to a natural end, without any +act of his will, which he did not feel the courage to exert. And thus he +went on. + +But one evening at dinner his father spoke a word which was decisive so +far as he was concerned. His mother looked at him, and as it seemed to +her that he was more ill and weak than usual, she said to him, "Giulio, +you are ill." And then, turning to his father with anxiety: "Giulio is +ill. See how pale he is Giulio, my dear, how do you feel?" + +His father gave a hasty glance, and said: "It is his bad conscience that +produces his bad health. He was not thus when he was a studious scholar +and a loving son." + +"But he is ill!" exclaimed the mother. + +"I don't care anything about him any longer!" replied the father. + +This remark was like a stab in the heart to the poor boy. Ah! he cared +nothing any more. His father, who once trembled at the mere sound of a +cough from him! He no longer loved him; there was no longer any doubt; +he was dead in his father's heart. "Ah, no! my father," said the boy to +himself, his heart oppressed with anguish, "now all is over indeed; I +cannot live without your affection; I must have it all back. I will tell +you all; I will deceive you no longer. I will study as of old, come what +will, if you will only love me once more, my poor father! Oh, this time +I am quite sure of my resolution!" + +Nevertheless he rose that night again, by force of habit more than +anything else; and when he was once up, he wanted to go and salute and +see once more, for the last time, in the quiet of the night, that little +chamber where he toiled so much in secret with his heart full of +satisfaction and tenderness. And when he beheld again that little table +with the lamp lighted and those white wrappers on which he was never +more to write those names of towns and persons, which he had come to +know by heart, he was seized with a great sadness, and with an impetuous +movement he grasped the pen to recommence his accustomed toil. But in +reaching out his hand he struck a book, and the book fell. The blood +rushed to his heart. What if his father had waked! Certainly he would +not have discovered him in the commission of a bad deed: he had himself +decided to tell him all, and yet--the sound of that step approaching in +the darkness,--the discovery at that hour, in that silence,--his mother, +who would be awakened and alarmed,--and the thought, which had occurred +to him for the first time, that his father might feel humiliated in his +presence on thus discovering all;--all this terrified him almost. He +bent his ear, with suspended breath. He heard no sound. He laid his ear +to the lock of the door behind him--nothing. The whole house was asleep. +His father had not heard. He recovered his composure, and he set himself +again to his writing, and wrapper was piled on wrapper. He heard the +regular tread of the policeman below in the deserted street; then the +rumble of a carriage which gradually died away; then, after an interval, +the rattle of a file of carts, which passed slowly by; then a profound +silence, broken from time to time by the distant barking of a dog. And +he wrote on and on: and meanwhile his father was behind him. He had +risen on hearing the fall of the book, and had remained waiting for a +long time: the rattle of the carts had drowned the noise of his +footsteps and the creaking of the door-casing; and he was there, with +his white head bent over Giulio's little black head, and he had seen the +pen flying over the wrappers, and in an instant he had divined all, +remembered all, understood all, and a despairing penitence, but at the +same time an immense tenderness, had taken possession of his mind and +had held him nailed to the spot suffocating behind his child. Suddenly +Giulio uttered a piercing shriek: two arms had pressed his head +convulsively. + +"Oh, papa, papa! forgive me, forgive me!" he cried, recognizing his +parent by his weeping. + +"Do you forgive me!" replied his father, sobbing, and covering his brow +with kisses. "I have understood all, I know all; it is I, it is I who +ask your pardon, my blessed little creature; come, come with me!" and he +pushed or rather carried him to the bedside of his mother, who was +awake, and throwing him into her arms, he said:-- + +"Kiss this little angel of a son, who has not slept for three months, +but has been toiling for me, while I was saddening his heart, and he was +earning our bread!" The mother pressed him to her breast and held him +there, without the power to speak; at last she said: "Go to sleep at +once, my baby, go to sleep and rest.--Carry him to bed." + +The father took him from her arms, carried him to his room, and laid him +in his bed, still breathing hard and caressing him, and arranged his +pillows and coverlets for him. + +"Thanks, papa," the child kept repeating; "thanks; but go to bed +yourself now; I am content; go to bed, papa." + +But his father wanted to see him fall asleep; so he sat down beside the +bed, took his hand, and said to him, "Sleep, sleep, my little son!" and +Giulio, being weak, fell asleep at last, and slumbered many hours, +enjoying, for the first time in many months, a tranquil sleep, enlivened +by pleasant dreams; and as he opened his eyes, when the sun had already +been shining for a tolerably long time, he first felt, and then saw, +close to his breast, and resting upon the edge of the little bed, the +white head of his father, who had passed the night thus, and who was +still asleep, with his brow against his son's heart. + + +WILL. + + Wednesday, 28th. + +There is Stardi in my school, who would have the force to do what the +little Florentine did. This morning two events occurred at the school: +Garoffi, wild with delight, because his album had been returned to him, +with the addition of three postage-stamps of the Republic of Guatemala, +which he had been seeking for three months; and Stardi, who took the +second medal; Stardi the next in the class after Derossi! All were +amazed at it. Who could ever have foretold it, when, in October, his +father brought him to school bundled up in that big green coat, and said +to the master, in presence of every one:-- + +"You must have a great deal of patience with him, because he is very +hard of understanding!" + +Every one credited him with a wooden head from the very beginning. But +he said, "I will burst or I will succeed," and he set to work doggedly, +to studying day and night, at home, at school, while walking, with set +teeth and clenched fists, patient as an ox, obstinate as a mule; and +thus, by dint of trampling on every one, disregarding mockery, and +dealing kicks to disturbers, this big thick-head passed in advance of +the rest. He understood not the first thing of arithmetic, he filled his +compositions with absurdities, he never succeeded in retaining a phrase +in his mind; and now he solves problems, writes correctly, and sings his +lessons like a song. And his iron will can be divined from the seeing +how he is made, so very thickset and squat, with a square head and no +neck, with short, thick hands, and coarse voice. He studies even on +scraps of newspaper, and on theatre bills, and every time that he has +ten soldi, he buys a book; he has already collected a little library, +and in a moment of good humor he allowed the promise to slip from his +mouth that he would take me home and show it to me. He speaks to no one, +he plays with no one, he is always on hand, on his bench, with his fists +pressed to his temples, firm as a rock, listening to the teacher. How he +must have toiled, poor Stardi! The master said to him this morning, +although he was impatient and in a bad humor, when he bestowed the +medals:-- + +"Bravo, Stardi! he who endures, conquers." But the latter did not appear +in the least puffed up with pride--he did not smile; and no sooner had +he returned to his seat, with the medal, than he planted his fists on +his temples again, and became more motionless and more attentive than +before. But the finest thing happened when he went out of school; for +his father, a blood-letter, as big and squat as himself, with a huge +face and a huge voice, was there waiting for him. He had not expected +this medal, and he was not willing to believe in it, so that it was +necessary for the master to reassure him, and then he began to laugh +heartily, and tapped his son on the back of the neck, saying +energetically, "Bravo! good! my dear pumpkin; you'll do!" and he stared +at him, astonished and smiling. And all the boys around him smiled too, +except Stardi. He was already ruminating the lesson for to-morrow +morning in that huge head of his. + + +GRATITUDE. + + Saturday, 31st. + + Your comrade Stardi never complains of his teacher; I am sure of + that. "The master was in a bad temper, was impatient,"--you say it + in a tone of resentment. Think an instant how often you give way to + acts of impatience, and towards whom? towards your father and your + mother, towards whom your impatience is a crime. Your master has + very good cause to be impatient at times! Reflect that he has been + laboring for boys these many years, and that if he has found many + affectionate and noble individuals among them, he has also found + many ungrateful ones, who have abused his kindness and ignored his + toils; and that, between you all, you cause him far more bitterness + than satisfaction. Reflect, that the most holy man on earth, if + placed in his position, would allow himself to be conquered by + wrath now and then. And then, if you only knew how often the + teacher goes to give a lesson to a sick boy, all alone, because he + is not ill enough to be excused from school and is impatient on + account of his suffering, and is pained to see that the rest of you + do not notice it, or abuse it! Respect, love, your master, my son. + Love him, also, because your father loves and respects him; because + he consecrates his life to the welfare of so many boys who will + forget him; love him because he opens and enlightens your + intelligence and educates your mind; because one of these days, + when you have become a man, and when neither I nor he shall be in + the world, his image will often present itself to your mind, side + by side with mine, and then you will see certain expressions of + sorrow and fatigue in his honest countenance to which you now pay + no heed: you will recall them, and they will pain you, even after + the lapse of thirty years; and you will feel ashamed, you will feel + sad at not having loved him, at having behaved badly to him. Love + your master; for he belongs to that vast family of fifty thousand + elementary instructors, scattered throughout all Italy, who are the + intellectual fathers of the millions of boys who are growing up + with you; the laborers, hardly recognized and poorly recompensed, + who are preparing in our country a people superior to those of the + present. I am not content with the affection which you have for me, + if you have it not also for all those who are doing you good, and + among these, your master stands first, after your parents. Love him + as you would love a brother of mine; love him when he caresses and + when he reproves you; when he is just, and when he appears to you + to be unjust; love him when he is amiable and gracious; and love + him even more when you see him sad. Love him always. And always + pronounce with reverence that name of "teacher," which, after that + of your father, is the noblest, the sweetest name which one man can + apply to another man. + +THY FATHER. + + + + +JANUARY. + + +THE ASSISTANT MASTER. + + Wednesday, 4th. + +MY father was right; the master was in a bad humor because he was not +well; for the last three days, in fact, the assistant has been coming in +his stead,--that little man, without a beard, who seems like a youth. A +shameful thing happened this morning. There had been an uproar on the +first and second days, in the school, because the assistant is very +patient and does nothing but say, "Be quiet, be quiet, I beg of you." + +But this morning they passed all bounds. Such a noise arose, that his +words were no longer audible, and he admonished and besought; but it was +a mere waste of breath. Twice the head-master appeared at the door and +looked in; but the moment he disappeared the murmur increased as in a +market. It was in vain that Derossi and Garrone turned round and made +signs to their comrades to be good, so that it was a shame. No one paid +any heed to them. Stardi alone remained quiet, with his elbows on the +bench, and his fists to his temples, meditating, perhaps, on his famous +library; and Garoffi, that boy with the hooked nose and the +postage-stamps, who was wholly occupied in making a catalogue of the +subscribers at two centesimi each, for a lottery for a pocket inkstand. +The rest chattered and laughed, pounded on the points of pens fixed in +the benches, and snapped pellets of paper at each other with the +elastics of their garters. + +The assistant grasped now one, now another, by the arm, and shook him; +and he placed one of them against the wall--time wasted. He no longer +knew what to do, and he entreated them. "Why do you behave like this? Do +you wish me to punish you by force?" Then he thumped the little table +with his fist, and shouted in a voice of wrath and lamentation, +"Silence! silence! silence!" It was difficult to hear him. But the +uproar continued to increase. Franti threw a paper dart at him, some +uttered cat-calls, others thumped each other on the head; the +hurly-burly was indescribable; when, all of a sudden, the beadle entered +and said:-- + +"Signor Master, the head-master has sent for you." The master rose and +went out in haste, with a gesture of despair. Then the tumult began more +vigorously than ever. But suddenly Garrone sprang up, his face all +convulsed, and his fists clenched, and shouted in a voice choked with +rage:-- + +"Stop this! You are brutes! You take advantage of him because he is +kind. If he were to bruise your bones for you, you would be as abject as +dogs. You are a pack of cowards! The first one of you that jeers at him +again, I shall wait for outside, and I will break his teeth,--I swear +it,--even under the very eyes of his father!" + +All became silent. Ah, what a fine thing it was to see Garrone, with his +eyes darting flames! He seemed to be a furious young lion. He stared at +the most daring, one after the other, and all hung their heads. When the +assistant re-entered, with red eyes, not a breath was audible. He stood +in amazement; then, catching sight of Garrone, who was still all fiery +and trembling, he understood it all, and he said to him, with accents of +great affection, as he might have spoken to a brother, "I thank you, +Garrone." + + +STARDI'S LIBRARY. + +I have been home with Stardi, who lives opposite the schoolhouse; and I +really experienced a feeling of envy at the sight of his library. He is +not at all rich, and he cannot buy many books; but he preserves his +schoolbooks with great care, as well as those which his relatives give +him; and he lays aside every soldo that is given to him, and spends it +at the bookseller's. In this way he has collected a little library; and +when his father perceived that he had this passion, he bought him a +handsome bookcase of walnut wood, with a green curtain, and he has had +most of his volumes bound for him in the colors that he likes. Thus when +he draws a little cord, the green curtain runs aside, and three rows of +books of every color become visible, all ranged in order, and shining, +with gilt titles on their backs,--books of tales, of travels, and of +poetry; and some illustrated ones. And he understands how to combine +colors well: he places the white volumes next to the red ones, the +yellow next the black, the blue beside the white, so that, viewed from a +distance, they make a very fine appearance; and he amuses himself by +varying the combinations. He has made himself a catalogue. He is like a +librarian. He is always standing near his books, dusting them, turning +over the leaves, examining the bindings: it is something to see the care +with which he opens them, with his big, stubby hands, and blows between +the pages: then they seem perfectly new again. I have worn out all of +mine. It is a festival for him to polish off every new book that he +buys, to put it in its place, and to pick it up again to take another +look at it from all sides, and to brood over it as a treasure. He showed +me nothing else for a whole hour. His eyes were troubling him, because +he had read too much. At a certain time his father, who is large and +thickset like himself, with a big head like his, entered the room, and +gave him two or three taps on the nape of the neck, saying with that +huge voice of his:-- + +"What do you think of him, eh? of this head of bronze? It is a stout +head, that will succeed in anything, I assure you!" + +And Stardi half closed his eyes, under these rough caresses, like a big +hunting-dog. I do not know, I did not dare to jest with him; it did not +seem true to me, that he was only a year older than myself; and when he +said to me, "Farewell until we meet again," at the door, with that face +of his that always seems wrathful, I came very near replying to him, "I +salute you, sir," as to a man. I told my father afterwards, at home: "I +don't understand it; Stardi has no natural talent, he has not fine +manners, and his face is almost ridiculous; yet he suggests ideas to +me." And my father answered, "It is because he has character." And I +added, "During the hour that I spent with him he did not utter fifty +words, he did not show me a single plaything, he did not laugh once; yet +I liked to go there." + +And my father answered, "That is because you esteem him." + + +THE SON OF THE BLACKSMITH-IRONMONGER. + +Yes, but I also esteem Precossi; and to say that I esteem him is not +enough,--Precossi, the son of the blacksmith-ironmonger,--that thin +little fellow, who has kind, melancholy eyes and a frightened air; who +is so timid that he says to every one, "Excuse me"; who is always +sickly, and who, nevertheless, studies so much. His father returns home, +intoxicated with brandy, and beats him without the slightest reason in +the world, and flings his books and his copy-books in the air with a +backward turn of his hand; and he comes to school with the black and +blue marks on his face, and sometimes with his face all swollen, and his +eyes inflamed with much weeping. But never, never can he be made to +acknowledge that his father beats him. + +"Your father has been beating you," his companions say to him; and he +instantly exclaims, "That is not true! it is not true!" for the sake of +not dishonoring his father. + +"You did not burn this leaf," the teacher says to him, showing him his +work, half burned. + +"Yes," he replies, in a trembling voice; "I let it fall on the fire." + +But we know very well, nevertheless, that his drunken father overturned +the table and the light with a kick, while the boy was doing his work. +He lives in a garret of our house, on another staircase. The portress +tells my mother everything: my sister Silvia heard him screaming from +the terrace one day, when his father had sent him headlong down stairs, +because he had asked for a few soldi to buy a grammar. His father +drinks, but does not work, and his family suffers from hunger. How often +Precossi comes to school with an empty stomach and nibbles in secret at +a roll which Garrone has given him, or at an apple brought to him by the +schoolmistress with the red feather, who was his teacher in the first +lower class. But he never says, "I am hungry; my father does not give me +anything to eat." His father sometimes comes for him, when he chances to +be passing the schoolhouse,--pallid, unsteady on his legs, with a fierce +face, and his hair over his eyes, and his cap awry; and the poor boy +trembles all over when he catches sight of him in the street; but he +immediately runs to meet him, with a smile; and his father does not +appear to see him, but seems to be thinking of something else. Poor +Precossi! He mends his torn copy-books, borrows books to study his +lessons, fastens the fragments of his shirt together with pins; and it +is a pity to see him performing his gymnastics, with those huge shoes in +which he is fairly lost, in those trousers which drag on the ground, and +that jacket which is too long, and those huge sleeves turned back to the +very elbows. And he studies; he does his best; he would be one of the +first, if he were able to work at home in peace. This morning he came to +school with the marks of finger-nails on one cheek, and they all began +to say to him:-- + +"It is your father, and you cannot deny it this time; it was your father +who did that to you. Tell the head-master about it, and he will have him +called to account for it." + +But he sprang up, all flushed, with a voice trembling with +indignation:-- + +"It's not true! it's not true! My father never beats me!" + +But afterwards, during lesson time, his tears fell upon the bench, and +when any one looked at him, he tried to smile, in order that he might +not show it. Poor Precossi! To-morrow Derossi, Coretti, and Nelli are +coming to my house; I want to tell him to come also; and I want to have +him take luncheon with me: I want to treat him to books, and turn the +house upside down to amuse him, and to fill his pockets with fruit, for +the sake of seeing him contented for once, poor Precossi! who is so good +and so courageous. + + +A FINE VISIT. + + Thursday, 12th. + +This has been one of the finest Thursdays of the year for me. At two +o'clock, precisely, Derossi and Coretti came to the house, with Nelli, +the hunchback: Precossi was not permitted by his father to come. Derossi +and Coretti were still laughing at their encounter with Crossi, the son +of the vegetable-seller, in the street,--the boy with the useless arm +and the red hair,--who was carrying a huge cabbage for sale, and with +the soldo which he was to receive for the cabbage he was to go and buy a +pen. He was perfectly happy because his father had written from America +that they might expect him any day. Oh, the two beautiful hours that we +passed together! Derossi and Coretti are the two jolliest boys in the +school; my father fell in love with them. Coretti had on his +chocolate-colored tights and his catskin cap. He is a lively imp, who +wants to be always doing something, stirring up something, setting +something in motion. He had already carried on his shoulders half a +cartload of wood, early that morning; nevertheless, he galloped all +over the house, taking note of everything and talking incessantly, as +sprightly and nimble as a squirrel; and passing into the kitchen, he +asked the cook how much we had to pay a myriagramme for wood, because +his father sells it at forty-five centesimi. He is always talking of his +father, of the time when he was a soldier in the 49th regiment, at the +battle of Custoza, where he served in the squadron of Prince Umberto; +and he is so gentle in his manners! It makes no difference that he was +born and brought up surrounded by wood: he has nobility in his blood, in +his heart, as my father says. And Derossi amused us greatly; he knows +geography like a master: he shut his eyes and said:-- + +"There, I see the whole of Italy; the Apennines, which extend to the +Ionian Sea, the rivers flowing here and there, the white cities, the +gulfs, the blue bays, the green islands;" and he repeated the names +correctly in their order and very rapidly, as though he were reading +them on the map; and at the sight of him standing thus, with his head +held high, with all his golden curls, with his closed eyes, and all +dressed in bright blue with gilt buttons, as straight and handsome as a +statue, we were all filled with admiration. In one hour he had learned +by heart nearly three pages, which he is to recite the day after +to-morrow, for the anniversary of the funeral of King Vittorio. And even +Nelli gazed at him in wonder and affection, as he rubbed the folds of +his apron of black cloth, and smiled with his clear and mournful eyes. +This visit gave me a great deal of pleasure; it left something like +sparks in my mind and my heart. And it pleased me, too, when they went +away, to see poor Nelli between the other two tall, strong fellows, who +carried him home on their arms, and made him laugh as I have never seen +him laugh before. On returning to the dining-room, I perceived that the +picture representing Rigoletto, the hunchbacked jester, was no longer +there. My father had taken it away in order that Nelli might not see it. + + +THE FUNERAL OF VITTORIO EMANUELE. + + January, 17th. + +To-day, at two o'clock, as soon as we entered the schoolroom, the master +called up Derossi, who went and took his place in front of the little +table facing us, and began to recite, in his vibrating tones, gradually +raising his limpid voice, and growing flushed in the face:-- + +"Four years ago, on this day, at this hour, there arrived in front of +the Pantheon at Rome, the funeral car which bore the body of Vittorio +Emanuele II., the first king of Italy, dead after a reign of twenty-nine +years, during which the great Italian fatherland, broken up into seven +states, and oppressed by strangers and by tyrants, had been brought back +to life in one single state, free and independent; after a reign of +twenty-nine years, which he had made illustrious and beneficent with his +valor, with loyalty, with boldness amid perils, with wisdom amid +triumphs, with constancy amid misfortunes. The funeral car arrived, +laden with wreaths, after having traversed Rome under a rain of flowers, +amid the silence of an immense and sorrowing multitude, which had +assembled from every part of Italy; preceded by a legion of generals and +by a throng of ministers and princes, followed by a retinue of crippled +veterans, by a forest of banners, by the envoys of three hundred towns, +by everything which represents the power and the glory of a people, it +arrived before the august temple where the tomb awaited it. At that +moment twelve cuirassiers removed the coffin from the car. At that +moment Italy bade her last farewell to her dead king, to her old king +whom she had loved so dearly, the last farewell to her soldier, to her +father, to the twenty-nine most fortunate and most blessed years in her +history. It was a grand and solemn moment. The looks, the souls, of all +were quivering at the sight of that coffin and the darkened banners of +the eighty regiments of the army of Italy, borne by eighty officers, +drawn up in line on its passage: for Italy was there in those eighty +tokens, which recalled the thousands of dead, the torrents of blood, our +most sacred glories, our most holy sacrifices, our most tremendous +griefs. The coffin, borne by the cuirassiers, passed, and then the +banners bent forward all together in salute,--the banners of the new +regiments, the old, tattered banners of Goito, of Pastrengo, of Santa +Lucia, of Novara, of the Crimea, of Palestro, of San Martino, of +Castelfidardo; eighty black veils fell, a hundred medals clashed against +the staves, and that sonorous and confused uproar, which stirred the +blood of all, was like the sound of a thousand human voices saying all +together, 'Farewell, good king, gallant king, loyal king! Thou wilt live +in the heart of thy people as long as the sun shall shine over Italy.' + +"After this, the banners rose heavenward once more, and King Vittorio +entered into the immortal glory of the tomb." + + +FRANTI EXPELLED FROM SCHOOL. + + Saturday, 21st. + +Only one boy was capable of laughing while Derossi was declaiming the +funeral oration of the king, and Franti laughed. I detest that fellow. +He is wicked. When a father comes to the school to reprove his son, he +enjoys it; when any one cries, he laughs. He trembles before Garrone, +and he strikes the little mason because he is small; he torments Crossi +because he has a helpless arm; he ridicules Precossi, whom every one +respects; he even jeers at Robetti, that boy in the second grade who +walks on crutches, through having saved a child. He provokes those who +are weaker than himself, and when it comes to blows, he grows ferocious +and tries to do harm. There is something beneath that low forehead, in +those turbid eyes, which he keeps nearly concealed under the visor of +his small cap of waxed cloth, which inspires a shudder. He fears no one; +he laughs in the master's face; he steals when he gets a chance; he +denies it with an impenetrable countenance; he is always engaged in a +quarrel with some one; he brings big pins to school, to prick his +neighbors with; he tears the buttons from his own jackets and from those +of others, and plays with them: his paper, books, and copy-books are all +crushed, torn, dirty; his ruler is jagged, his pens gnawed, his nails +bitten, his clothes covered with stains and rents which he has got in +his brawls. They say that his mother has fallen ill from the trouble +that he causes her, and that his father has driven him from the house +three times; his mother comes every now and then to make inquiries, and +she always goes away in tears. He hates school, he hates his +companions, he hates the teacher. The master sometimes pretends not to +see his rascalities, and he behaves all the worse. He tried to get a +hold on him by kind treatment, and the boy ridiculed him for it. He said +terrible things to him, and the boy covered his face with his hands, as +though he were crying; but he was laughing. He was suspended from school +for three days, and he returned more perverse and insolent than before. +Derossi said to him one day, "Stop it! don't you see how much the +teacher suffers?" and the other threatened to stick a nail into his +stomach. But this morning, at last, he got himself driven out like a +dog. While the master was giving to Garrone the rough draft of _The +Sardinian Drummer-Boy_, the monthly story for January, to copy, he threw +a petard on the floor, which exploded, making the schoolroom resound as +from a discharge of musketry. The whole class was startled by it. The +master sprang to his feet, and cried:-- + +"Franti, leave the school!" + +The latter retorted, "It wasn't I;" but he laughed. The master +repeated:-- + +"Go!" + +"I won't stir," he answered. + +Then the master lost his temper, and flung himself upon him, seized him +by the arms, and tore him from his seat. He resisted, ground his teeth, +and made him carry him out by main force. The master bore him thus, +heavy as he was, to the head-master, and then returned to the schoolroom +alone and seated himself at his little table, with his head clutched in +his hands, gasping, and with an expression of such weariness and trouble +that it was painful to look at him. + +"After teaching school for thirty years!" he exclaimed sadly, shaking +his head. No one breathed. His hands were trembling with fury, and the +perpendicular wrinkle that he has in the middle of his forehead was so +deep that it seemed like a wound. Poor master! All felt sorry for him. +Derossi rose and said, "Signor Master, do not grieve. We love you." And +then he grew a little more tranquil, and said, "We will go on with the +lesson, boys." + + +THE SARDINIAN DRUMMER-BOY. + +(_Monthly Story._) + +On the first day of the battle of Custoza, on the 24th of July, 1848, +about sixty soldiers, belonging to an infantry regiment of our army, who +had been sent to an elevation to occupy an isolated house, suddenly +found themselves assaulted by two companies of Austrian soldiers, who, +showering them with bullets from various quarters, hardly gave them time +to take refuge in the house and to barricade the doors, after leaving +several dead and wounded on the field. Having barred the doors, our men +ran in haste to the windows of the ground floor and the first story, and +began to fire brisk discharges at their assailants, who, approaching +gradually, ranged in a semicircle, made vigorous reply. The sixty +Italian soldiers were commanded by two non-commissioned officers and a +captain, a tall, dry, austere old man, with white hair and mustache; and +with them there was a Sardinian drummer-boy, a lad of a little over +fourteen, who did not look twelve, small, with an olive-brown +complexion, and two small, deep, sparkling eyes. The captain directed +the defence from a room on the first floor, launching commands that +seemed like pistol-shots, and no sign of emotion was visible on his iron +countenance. The drummer-boy, a little pale, but firm on his legs, had +jumped upon a table, and was holding fast to the wall and stretching out +his neck in order to gaze out of the windows, and athwart the smoke on +the fields he saw the white uniforms of the Austrians, who were slowly +advancing. The house was situated at the summit of a steep declivity, +and on the side of the slope it had but one high window, corresponding +to a chamber in the roof: therefore the Austrians did not threaten the +house from that quarter, and the slope was free; the fire beat only upon +the front and the two ends. + +But it was an infernal fire, a hailstorm of leaden bullets, which split +the walls on the outside, ground the tiles to powder, and in the +interior cracked ceilings, furniture, window-frames, and door-frames, +sending splinters of wood flying through the air, and clouds of plaster, +and fragments of kitchen utensils and glass, whizzing, and rebounding, +and breaking everything with a noise like the crushing of a skull. From +time to time one of the soldiers who were firing from the windows fell +crashing back to the floor, and was dragged to one side. Some staggered +from room to room, pressing their hands on their wounds. There was +already one dead body in the kitchen, with its forehead cleft. The +semicircle of the enemy was drawing together. + +At a certain point the captain, hitherto impassive, was seen to make a +gesture of uneasiness, and to leave the room with huge strides, followed +by a sergeant. Three minutes later the sergeant returned on a run, and +summoned the drummer-boy, making him a sign to follow. The lad followed +him at a quick pace up the wooden staircase, and entered with him into +a bare garret, where he saw the captain writing with a pencil on a sheet +of paper, as he leaned against the little window; and on the floor at +his feet lay the well-rope. + +The captain folded the sheet of paper, and said sharply, as he fixed his +cold gray eyes, before which all the soldiers trembled, on the boy:-- + +"Drummer!" + +The drummer-boy put his hand to his visor. + +The captain said, "You have courage." + +The boy's eyes flashed. + +"Yes, captain," he replied. + +"Look down there," said the captain, pushing him to the window; "on the +plain, near the houses of Villafranca, where there is a gleam of +bayonets. There stand our troops, motionless. You are to take this +billet, tie yourself to the rope, descend from the window, get down that +slope in an instant, make your way across the fields, arrive at our men, +and give the note to the first officer you see. Throw off your belt and +knapsack." + +The drummer took off his belt and knapsack and thrust the note into his +breast pocket; the sergeant flung the rope out of the window, and held +one end of it clutched fast in his hands; the captain helped the lad to +clamber out of the small window, with his back turned to the landscape. + +"Now look out," he said; "the salvation of this detachment lies in your +courage and in your legs." + +"Trust to me, Signor Captain," replied the drummer-boy, as he let +himself down. + +"Bend over on the slope," said the captain, grasping the rope, with the +sergeant. + +"Never fear." + +"God aid you!" + +In a few moments the drummer-boy was on the ground; the sergeant drew in +the rope and disappeared; the captain stepped impetuously in front of +the window and saw the boy flying down the slope. + +He was already hoping that he had succeeded in escaping unobserved, when +five or six little puffs of powder, which rose from the earth in front +of and behind the lad, warned him that he had been espied by the +Austrians, who were firing down upon him from the top of the elevation: +these little clouds were thrown into the air by the bullets. But the +drummer continued to run at a headlong speed. All at once he fell to the +earth. "He is killed!" roared the captain, biting his fist. But before +he had uttered the word he saw the drummer spring up again. "Ah, only a +fall," he said to himself, and drew a long breath. The drummer, in fact, +set out again at full speed; but he limped. "He has turned his ankle," +thought the captain. Again several cloudlets of powder smoke rose here +and there about the lad, but ever more distant. He was safe. The captain +uttered an exclamation of triumph. But he continued to follow him with +his eyes, trembling because it was an affair of minutes: if he did not +arrive yonder in the shortest possible time with that billet, which +called for instant succor, either all his soldiers would be killed or he +should be obliged to surrender himself a prisoner with them. + +The boy ran rapidly for a space, then relaxed his pace and limped, then +resumed his course, but grew constantly more fatigued, and every little +while he stumbled and paused. + +"Perhaps a bullet has grazed him," thought the captain, and he noted all +his movements, quivering with excitement; and he encouraged him, he +spoke to him, as though he could hear him; he measured incessantly, with +a flashing eye, the space intervening between the fleeing boy and that +gleam of arms which he could see in the distance on the plain amid the +fields of grain gilded by the sun. And meanwhile he heard the whistle +and the crash of the bullets in the rooms beneath, the imperious and +angry shouts of the sergeants and the officers, the piercing laments of +the wounded, the ruin of furniture, and the fall of rubbish. + +"On! courage!" he shouted, following the far-off drummer with his +glance. "Forward! run! He halts, that cursed boy! Ah, he resumes his +course!" + +An officer came panting to tell him that the enemy, without slackening +their fire, were flinging out a white flag to hint at a surrender. +"Don't reply to them!" he cried, without detaching his eyes from the +boy, who was already on the plain, but who was no longer running, and +who seemed to be dragging himself along with difficulty. + +"Go! run!" said the captain, clenching his teeth and his fists; "let +them kill you; die, you rascal, but go!" Then he uttered a horrible +oath. "Ah, the infamous poltroon! he has sat down!" In fact, the boy, +whose head he had hitherto been able to see projecting above a field of +grain, had disappeared, as though he had fallen; but, after the lapse of +a minute, his head came into sight again; finally, it was lost behind +the hedges, and the captain saw it no more. + +Then he descended impetuously; the bullets were coming in a tempest; the +rooms were encumbered with the wounded, some of whom were whirling round +like drunken men, and clutching at the furniture; the walls and floor +were bespattered with blood; corpses lay across the doorways; the +lieutenant had had his arm shattered by a ball; smoke and clouds of dust +enveloped everything. + +"Courage!" shouted the captain. "Stand firm at your post! Succor is on +the way! Courage for a little while longer!" + +The Austrians had approached still nearer: their contorted faces were +already visible through the smoke, and amid the crash of the firing +their savage and offensive shouts were audible, as they uttered insults, +suggested a surrender, and threatened slaughter. Some soldiers were +terrified, and withdrew from the windows; the sergeants drove them +forward again. But the fire of the defence weakened; discouragement made +its appearance on all faces. It was not possible to protract the +resistance longer. At a given moment the fire of the Austrians +slackened, and a thundering voice shouted, first in German and then in +Italian, "Surrender!" + +"No!" howled the captain from a window. + +And the firing recommenced more fast and furious on both sides. More +soldiers fell. Already more than one window was without defenders. The +fatal moment was near at hand. The captain shouted through his teeth, in +a strangled voice, "They are not coming! they are not coming!" and +rushed wildly about, twisting his sword about in his convulsively +clenched hand, and resolved to die; when a sergeant descending from the +garret, uttered a piercing shout, "They are coming!" "They are coming!" +repeated the captain, with a cry of joy. + +At that cry all, well and wounded, sergeants and officers, rushed to the +windows, and the resistance became fierce once more. A few moments later +a sort of uncertainty was noticeable, and a beginning of disorder among +the foe. Suddenly the captain hastily collected a little troop in the +room on the ground floor, in order to make a sortie with fixed bayonets. +Then he flew up stairs. Scarcely had he arrived there when they heard a +hasty trampling of feet, accompanied by a formidable hurrah, and saw +from the windows the two-pointed hats of the Italian carabineers +advancing through the smoke, a squadron rushing forward at great speed, +and a lightning flash of blades whirling in the air, as they fell on +heads, on shoulders, and on backs. Then the troop darted out of the +door, with bayonets lowered; the enemy wavered, were thrown into +disorder, and turned their backs; the field was left unincumbered, the +house was free, and a little later two battalions of Italian infantry +and two cannons occupied the eminence. + +The captain, with the soldiers that remained to him, rejoined his +regiment, went on fighting, and was slightly wounded in the left hand by +a bullet on the rebound, in the final assault with bayonets. + +The day ended with the victory on our side. + +But on the following day, the conflict having begun again, the Italians +were overpowered by the overwhelming numbers of the Austrians, in spite +of a valorous resistance, and on the morning of the 27th they sadly +retreated towards the Mincio. + +The captain, although wounded, made the march on foot with his soldiers, +weary and silent, and, arrived at the close of the day at Goito, on the +Mincio, he immediately sought out his lieutenant, who had been picked up +with his arm shattered, by our ambulance corps, and who must have +arrived before him. He was directed to a church, where the field +hospital had been installed in haste. Thither he betook himself. The +church was full of wounded men, ranged in two lines of beds, and on +mattresses spread on the floor; two doctors and numerous assistants were +going and coming, busily occupied; and suppressed cries and groans were +audible. + +No sooner had the captain entered than he halted and cast a glance +around, in search of his officer. + +At that moment he heard himself called in a weak voice,--"Signor +Captain!" He turned round. It was his drummer-boy. He was lying on a cot +bed, covered to the breast with a coarse window curtain, in red and +white squares, with his arms on the outside, pale and thin, but with +eyes which still sparkled like black gems. + +"Are you here?" asked the captain, amazed, but still sharply. "Bravo! +You did your duty." + +"I did all that I could," replied the drummer-boy. + +"Were you wounded?" said the captain, seeking with his eyes for his +officer in the neighboring beds. + +"What could one expect?" said the lad, who gained courage by speaking, +expressing the lofty satisfaction of having been wounded for the first +time, without which he would not have dared to open his mouth in the +presence of this captain; "I had a fine run, all bent over, but suddenly +they caught sight of me. I should have arrived twenty minutes earlier if +they had not hit me. Luckily, I soon came across a captain of the staff, +to whom I gave the note. But it was hard work to get down after that +caress! I was dying of thirst. I was afraid that I should not get there +at all. I wept with rage at the thought that at every moment of delay +another man was setting out yonder for the other world. But enough! I +did what I could. I am content. But, with your permission, captain, you +should look to yourself: you are losing blood." + +Several drops of blood had in fact trickled down on the captain's +fingers from his imperfectly bandaged palm. + +"Would you like to have me give the bandage a turn, captain? Hold it +here a minute." + +The captain held out his left hand, and stretched out his right to help +the lad to loosen the knot and to tie it again; but no sooner had the +boy raised himself from his pillow than he turned pale and was obliged +to support his head once more. + +"That will do, that will do," said the captain, looking at him and +withdrawing his bandaged hand, which the other tried to retain. "Attend +to your own affairs, instead of thinking of others, for things that are +not severe may become serious if they are neglected." + +The drummer-boy shook his head. + +"But you," said the captain, observing him attentively, "must have lost +a great deal of blood to be as weak as this." + +"Must have lost a great deal of blood!" replied the boy, with a smile. +"Something else besides blood: look here." And with one movement he drew +aside the coverlet. + +The captain started back a pace in horror. + +The lad had but one leg. His left leg had been amputated above the knee; +the stump was swathed in blood-stained cloths. + +At that moment a small, plump, military surgeon passed, in his +shirt-sleeves. "Ah, captain," he said, rapidly, nodding towards the +drummer, "this is an unfortunate case; there is a leg that might have +been saved if he had not exerted himself in such a crazy manner--that +cursed inflammation! It had to be cut off away up here. Oh, but he's a +brave lad. I can assure you! He never shed a tear, nor uttered a cry! +He was proud of being an Italian boy, while I was performing the +operation, upon my word of honor. He comes of a good race, by Heavens!" +And away he went, on a run. + +The captain wrinkled his heavy white brows, gazed fixedly at the +drummer-boy, and spread the coverlet over him again, and slowly, then as +though unconsciously, and still gazing intently at him, he raised his +hand to his head, and lifted his cap. + +"Signor Captain!" exclaimed the boy in amazement. "What are you doing, +captain? To me!" + +And then that rough soldier, who had never said a gentle word to an +inferior, replied in an indescribably sweet and affectionate voice, "I +am only a captain; you are a hero." + +Then he threw himself with wide-spread arms upon the drummer-boy, and +kissed him three times upon the heart. + + +THE LOVE OF COUNTRY. + + Tuesday, 24th. + + Since the tale of the _Drummer-boy_ has touched your heart, it + should be easy for you this morning to do your composition for + examination--_Why you love Italy_--well. Why do I love Italy? Do + not a hundred answers present themselves to you on the instant? I + love Italy because my mother is an Italian; because the blood that + flows in my veins is Italian; because the soil in which are buried + the dead whom my mother mourns and whom my father venerates is + Italian; because the town in which I was born, the language that I + speak, the books that educate me,--because my brother, my sister, + my comrades, the great people among whom I live, and the beautiful + nature which surrounds me, and all that I see, that I love, that I + study, that I admire, is Italian. Oh, you cannot feel that + affection in its entirety! You will feel it when you become a man; + when, returning from a long journey, after a prolonged absence, you + step up in the morning to the bulwarks of the vessel and see on the + distant horizon the lofty blue mountains of your country; you will + feel it then in the impetuous flood of tenderness which will fill + your eyes with tears and will wrest a cry from your heart. You will + feel it in some great and distant city, in that impulse of the soul + which will impel you from the strange throng towards a workingman + from whom you have heard in passing a word in your own tongue. You + will feel it in that sad and proud wrath which will drive the blood + to your brow when you hear insults to your country from the mouth + of a stranger. You will feel it in more proud and vigorous measure + on the day when the menace of a hostile race shall call forth a + tempest of fire upon your country, and when you shall behold arms + raging on every side, youths thronging in legions, fathers kissing + their children and saying, "Courage!" mothers bidding adieu to + their young sons and crying, "Conquer!" You will feel it like a joy + divine if you have the good fortune to behold the re-entrance to + your town of the regiments, weary, ragged, with thinned ranks, yet + terrible, with the splendor of victory in their eyes, and their + banners torn by bullets, followed by a vast convoy of brave + fellows, bearing their bandaged heads and their stumps of arms + loftily, amid a wild throng, which covers them with flowers, with + blessings, and with kisses. Then you will comprehend the love of + country; then you will feel your country, Enrico. It is a grand and + sacred thing. May I one day see you return in safety from a battle + fought for her, safe,--you who are my flesh and soul; but if I + should learn that you have preserved your life because you were + concealed from death, your father, who welcomes you with a cry of + joy when you return from school, will receive you with a sob of + anguish, and I shall never be able to love you again, and I shall + die with that dagger in my heart. + + THY FATHER. + + +ENVY. + + Wednesday, 25th. + +The boy who wrote the best composition of all on our country was +Derossi, as usual. And Votini, who thought himself sure of the first +medal--I like Votini well enough, although he is rather vain and does +polish himself up a trifle too much,--but it makes me scorn him, now +that I am his neighbor on the bench, to see how envious he is of +Derossi. He would like to vie with him; he studies hard, but he cannot +do it by any possibility, for the other is ten times as strong as he is +on every point; and Votini rails at him. Carlo Nobis envies him also; +but he has so much pride in his body that, purely from pride, he does +not allow it to be perceived. Votini, on the other hand, betrays +himself: he complains of his difficulties at home, and says that the +master is unjust to him; and when Derossi replies so promptly and so +well to questions, as he always does, his face clouds over, he hangs his +head, pretends not to hear, or tries to laugh, but he laughs awkwardly. +And thus every one knows about it, so that when the master praises +Derossi they all turn to look at Votini, who chews his venom, and the +little mason makes a hare's face at him. To-day, for instance, he was +put to the torture. The head-master entered the school and announced the +result of the examination,--"Derossi ten tenths and the first medal." + +Votini gave a huge sneeze. The master looked at him: it was not hard to +understand the matter. "Votini," he said, "do not let the serpent of +envy enter your body; it is a serpent which gnaws at the brain and +corrupts the heart." + + [Illustration: "THEN THE TROOP DARTED OUT OF THE DOOR."--Page 97.] + +Every one stared at him except Derossi. Votini tried to make some +answer, but could not; he sat there as though turned to stone, and with +a white face. Then, while the master was conducting the lesson, he began +to write in large characters on a sheet of paper, "_I am not envious of +those who gain the first medal through favoritism and injustice._" It +was a note which he meant to send to Derossi. But, in the meantime, I +perceived that Derossi's neighbors were plotting among themselves, and +whispering in each other's ears, and one cut with penknife from paper a +big medal on which they had drawn a black serpent. But Votini did not +notice this. The master went out for a few moments. All at once +Derossi's neighbors rose and left their seats, for the purpose of coming +and solemnly presenting the paper medal to Votini. The whole class was +prepared for a scene. Votini had already begun to quiver all over. +Derossi exclaimed:-- + +"Give that to me!" + +"So much the better," they replied; "you are the one who ought to carry +it." + +Derossi took the medal and tore it into bits. At that moment the master +returned, and resumed the lesson. I kept my eye on Votini. He had turned +as red as a coal. He took his sheet of paper very, very quietly, as +though in absence of mind, rolled it into a ball, on the sly, put it +into his mouth, chewed it a little, and then spit it out under the +bench. When school broke up, Votini, who was a little confused, let fall +his blotting-paper, as he passed Derossi. Derossi politely picked it up, +put it in his satchel, and helped him to buckle the straps. Votini dared +not raise his eyes. + + +FRANTI'S MOTHER. + + Saturday, 28th. + +But Votini is incorrigible. Yesterday morning, during the lesson on +religion, in the presence of the head-master, the teacher asked Derossi +if he knew by heart the two couplets in the reading-book,-- + + "Where'er I turn my gaze, 'tis Thee, great God, I see." + +Derossi said that he did not, and Votini suddenly exclaimed, "I know +them!" with a smile, as though to pique Derossi. But he was piqued +himself, instead, for he could not recite the poetry, because Franti's +mother suddenly flew into the schoolroom, breathless, with her gray hair +dishevelled and all wet with snow, and pushing before her her son, who +had been suspended from school for a week. What a sad scene we were +doomed to witness! The poor woman flung herself almost on her knees +before the head-master, with clasped hands, and besought him:-- + +"Oh, Signor Director, do me the favor to put my boy back in school! He +has been at home for three days. I have kept him hidden; but God have +mercy on him, if his father finds out about this affair: he will murder +him! Have pity! I no longer know what to do! I entreat you with my whole +soul!" + +The director tried to lead her out, but she resisted, still continuing +to pray and to weep. + +"Oh, if you only knew the trouble that this boy has caused me, you would +have compassion! Do me this favor! I hope that he will reform. I shall +not live long, Signor Director; I bear death within me; but I should +like to see him reformed before my death, because"--and she broke into a +passion of weeping--"he is my son--I love him--I shall die in despair! +Take him back once more, Signor Director, that a misfortune may not +happen in the family! Do it out of pity for a poor woman!" And she +covered her face with her hands and sobbed. + +Franti stood impassive, and hung his head. The head-master looked at +him, reflected a little, then said, "Franti, go to your place." + +Then the woman removed her hands from her face, quite comforted, and +began to express thanks upon thanks, without giving the director a +chance to speak, and made her way towards the door, wiping her eyes, and +saying hastily: "I beg of you, my son.--May all have patience.--Thanks, +Signor Director; you have performed a deed of mercy.--Be a good +boy.--Good day, boys.--Thanks, Signor Teacher; good by, and forgive a +poor mother." And after bestowing another supplicating glance at her son +from the door, she went away, pulling up the shawl which was trailing +after her, pale, bent, with a head which still trembled, and we heard +her coughing all the way down the stairs. The head-master gazed intently +at Franti, amid the silence of the class, and said to him in accents of +a kind to make him tremble:-- + +"Franti, you are killing your mother!" + +We all turned to look at Franti; and that infamous boy smiled. + + +HOPE. + + Sunday, 29th. + + Very beautiful, Enrico, was the impetuosity with which you flung + yourself on your mother's heart on your return from your lesson of + religion. Yes, your master said grand and consoling things to you. + God threw you in each other's arms; he will never part you. When I + die, when your father dies, we shall not speak to each other these + despairing words, "Mamma, papa, Enrico, I shall never see you + again!" We shall see each other again in another life, where he who + has suffered much in this life will receive compensation; where he + who has loved much on earth will find again the souls whom he has + loved, in a world without sin, without sorrow, and without death. + But we must all render ourselves worthy of that other life. + Reflect, my son. Every good action of yours, every impulse of + affection for those who love you, every courteous act towards your + companions, every noble thought of yours, is like a leap towards + that other world. And every misfortune, also, serves to raise you + towards that world; every sorrow, for every sorrow is the expiation + of a sin, every tear blots out a stain. Make it your rule to become + better and more loving every day than the day before. Say every + morning, "To-day I will do something for which my conscience will + praise me, and with which my father will be satisfied; something + which will render me beloved by such or such a comrade, by my + teacher, by my brother, or by others." And beseech God to give you + the strength to put your resolution into practice. "Lord, I wish to + be good, noble, courageous, gentle, sincere; help me; grant that + every night, when my mother gives me her last kiss, I may be able + to say to her, 'You kiss this night a nobler and more worthy boy + than you kissed last night.'" Keep always in your thoughts that + other superhuman and blessed Enrico which you may be after this + life. And pray. You cannot imagine the sweetness that you + experience,--how much better a mother feels when she sees her child + with hands clasped in prayer. When I behold you praying, it seems + impossible to me that there should not be some one there gazing at + you and listening to you. Then I believe more firmly that there is + a supreme goodness and an infinite pity; I love you more, I work + with more ardor, I endure with more force, I forgive with all my + heart, and I think of death with serenity. O great and good God! + To hear once more, after death, the voice of my mother, to meet my + children again, to see my Enrico once more, my Enrico, blessed and + immortal, and to clasp him in an embrace which shall nevermore be + loosed, nevermore, nevermore to all eternity! Oh, pray! let us + pray, let us love each other, let us be good, let us bear this + celestial hope in our hearts and souls, my adored child! + + THY MOTHER. + + + + +FEBRUARY. + + +A MEDAL WELL BESTOWED. + + Saturday, 4th. + +THIS morning the superintendent of the schools, a gentleman with a white +beard, and dressed in black, came to bestow the medals. He entered with +the head-master a little before the close and seated himself beside the +teacher. He questioned a few, then gave the first medal to Derossi, and +before giving the second, he stood for a few moments listening to the +teacher and the head-master, who were talking to him in a low voice. All +were asking themselves, "To whom will he give the second?" The +superintendent said aloud:-- + +"Pupil Pietro Precossi has merited the second medal this week,--merited +it by his work at home, by his lessons, by his handwriting, by his +conduct in every way." All turned to look at Precossi, and it was +evident that all took pleasure in it. Precossi rose in such confusion +that he did not know where he stood. + +"Come here," said the superintendent. Precossi sprang up from his seat +and stepped up to the master's table. The superintendent looked +attentively at that little waxen face, at that puny body enveloped in +turned and ill-fitting garments, at those kind, sad eyes, which avoided +his, but which hinted at a story of suffering; then he said to him, in a +voice full of affection, as he fastened the medal on his shoulder:-- + +"I give you the medal, Precossi. No one is more worthy to wear it than +you. I bestow it not only on your intelligence and your good will; I +bestow it on your heart, I give it to your courage, to your character of +a brave and good son. Is it not true," he added, turning to the class, +"that he deserves it also on that score?" + +"Yes, yes!" all answered, with one voice. Precossi made a movement of +the throat as though he were swallowing something, and cast upon the +benches a very sweet look, which was expressive of immense gratitude. + +"Go, my dear boy," said the superintendent; "and may God protect you!" + +It was the hour for dismissing the school. Our class got out before the +others. As soon as we were outside the door, whom should we espy there, +in the large hall, just at the entrance? The father of Precossi, the +blacksmith, pallid as was his wont, with fierce face, hair hanging over +his eyes, his cap awry, and unsteady on his legs. The teacher caught +sight of him instantly, and whispered to the superintendent. The latter +sought out Precossi in haste, and taking him by the hand, he led him to +his father. The boy was trembling. The boy and the superintendent +approached; many boys collected around them. + +"Is it true that you are the father of this lad?" demanded the +superintendent of the blacksmith, with a cheerful air, as though they +were friends. And, without awaiting a reply:-- + +"I rejoice with you. Look: he has won the second medal over fifty-four +of his comrades. He has deserved it by his composition, his arithmetic, +everything. He is a boy of great intelligence and good will, who will +accomplish great things; a fine boy, who possesses the affection and +esteem of all. You may feel proud of him, I assure you." + +The blacksmith, who had stood there with open mouth listening to him, +stared at the superintendent and the head-master, and then at his son, +who was standing before him with downcast eyes and trembling; and as +though he had remembered and comprehended then, for the first time, all +that he had made the little fellow suffer, and all the goodness, the +heroic constancy, with which the latter had borne it, he displayed in +his countenance a certain stupid wonder, then a sullen remorse, and +finally a sorrowful and impetuous tenderness, and with a rapid gesture +he caught the boy round the head and strained him to his breast. We all +passed before them. I invited him to come to the house on Thursday, with +Garrone and Crossi; others saluted him; one bestowed a caress on him, +another touched his medal, all said something to him; and his father +stared at us in amazement, as he still held his son's head pressed to +his breast, while the boy sobbed. + + +GOOD RESOLUTIONS. + + Sunday, 5th. + +That medal given to Precossi has awakened a remorse in me. I have never +earned one yet! For some time past I have not been studying, and I am +discontented with myself, and the teacher, my father and mother are +discontented with me. I no longer experience the pleasure in amusing +myself that I did formerly, when I worked with a will, and then sprang +up from the table and ran to my games full of mirth, as though I had +not played for a month. Neither do I sit down to the table with my +family with the same contentment as of old. I have always a shadow in my +soul, an inward voice, that says to me continually, "It won't do; it +won't do." + +In the evening I see a great many boys pass through the square on their +return from work, in the midst of a group of workingmen, weary but +merry. They step briskly along, impatient to reach their homes and +suppers, and they talk loudly, laughing and slapping each other on the +shoulder with hands blackened with coal, or whitened with plaster; and I +reflect that they have been working since daybreak up to this hour. And +with them are also many others, who are still smaller, who have been +standing all day on the summits of roofs, in front of ovens, among +machines, and in the water, and underground, with nothing to eat but a +little bread; and I feel almost ashamed, I, who in all that time have +accomplished nothing but scribble four small pages, and that +reluctantly. Ah, I am discontented, discontented! I see plainly that my +father is out of humor, and would like to tell me so; but he is sorry, +and he is still waiting. My dear father, who works so hard! all is +yours, all that I see around me in the house, all that I touch, all that +I wear and eat, all that affords me instruction and diversion,--all is +the fruit of your toil, and I do not work; all has cost you thought, +privations, trouble, effort; and I make no effort. Ah, no; this is too +unjust, and causes me too much pain. I will begin this very day; I will +apply myself to my studies, like Stardi, with clenched fists and set +teeth. I will set about it with all the strength of my will and my +heart. I will conquer my drowsiness in the evening, I will come down +promptly in the morning, I will cudgel my brains without ceasing, I +will chastise my laziness without mercy. I will toil, suffer, even to +the extent of making myself ill; but I will put a stop, once for all, to +this languishing and tiresome life, which is degrading me and causing +sorrow to others. Courage! to work! To work with all my soul, and all my +nerves! To work, which will restore to me sweet repose, pleasing games, +cheerful meals! To work, which will give me back again the kindly smile +of my teacher, the blessed kiss of my father! + + +THE ENGINE. + + Friday, 10th. + +Precossi came to our house to-day with Garrone. I do not think that two +sons of princes would have been received with greater delight. This is +the first time that Garrone has been here, because he is rather shy, and +then he is ashamed to show himself because he is so large, and is still +in the third grade. We all went to open the door when they rang. Crossi +did not come, because his father has at last arrived from America, after +an absence of seven years. My mother kissed Precossi at once. My father +introduced Garrone to her, saying:-- + +"Here he is. This lad is not only a good boy; he is a man of honor and a +gentleman." + +And the boy dropped his big, shaggy head, with a sly smile at me. +Precossi had on his medal, and he was happy, because his father has gone +to work again, and has not drunk anything for the last five days, wants +him to be always in the workshop to keep him company, and seems quite +another man. + +We began to play, and I brought out all my things. Precossi was +enchanted with my train of cars, with the engine that goes of itself on +being wound up. He had never seen anything of the kind. He devoured the +little red and yellow cars with his eyes. I gave him the key to play +with, and he knelt down to his amusement, and did not raise his head +again. I have never seen him so pleased. He kept saying, "Excuse me, +excuse me," to everything, and motioning to us with his hands, that we +should not stop the engine; and then he picked it up and replaced the +cars with a thousand precautions, as though they had been made of glass. +He was afraid of tarnishing them with his breath, and he polished them +up again, examining them top and bottom, and smiling to himself. We all +stood around him and gazed at him. We looked at that slender neck, those +poor little ears, which I had seen bleeding one day, that jacket with +the sleeves turned up, from which projected two sickly little arms, +which had been upraised to ward off blows from his face. Oh! at that +moment I could have cast all my playthings and all my books at his feet, +I could have torn the last morsel of bread from my lips to give to him, +I could have divested myself of my clothing to clothe him, I could have +flung myself on my knees to kiss his hand. "I will at least give you the +train," I thought; but--was necessary to ask permission of my father. At +that moment I felt a bit of paper thrust into my hand. I looked; it was +written in pencil by my father; it said: + +"Your train pleases Precossi. He has no playthings. Does your heart +suggest nothing to you?" + +Instantly I seized the engine and the cars in both hands, and placed the +whole in his arms, saying:-- + +"Take this; it is yours." + +He looked at me, and did not understand. "It is yours," I said; "I give +it to you." + +Then he looked at my father and mother, in still greater astonishment, +and asked me:-- + +"But why?" + +My father said to him:-- + +"Enrico gives it to you because he is your friend, because he loves +you--to celebrate your medal." + +Precossi asked timidly:-- + +"I may carry it away--home?" + +"Of course!" we all responded. He was already at the door, but he dared +not go out. He was happy! He begged our pardon with a mouth that smiled +and quivered. Garrone helped him to wrap up the train in a handkerchief, +and as he bent over, he made the things with which his pockets were +filled rattle. + +"Some day," said Precossi to me, "you shall come to the shop to see my +father at work. I will give you some nails." + +My mother put a little bunch of flowers into Garrone's buttonhole, for +him to carry to his mother in her name. Garrone said, "Thanks," in his +big voice, without raising his chin from his breast. But all his kind +and noble soul shone in his eyes. + + +PRIDE. + + Saturday, 11th. + +The idea of Carlo Nobis rubbing off his sleeve affectedly, when Precossi +touches him in passing! That fellow is pride incarnate because his +father is a rich man. But Derossi's father is rich too. He would like to +have a bench to himself; he is afraid that the rest will soil it; he +looks down on everybody and always has a scornful smile on his lips: woe +to him who stumbles over his foot, when we go out in files two by two! +For a mere trifle he flings an insulting word in your face, or a threat +to get his father to come to the school. It is true that his father did +give him a good lesson when he called the little son of the charcoal-man +a ragamuffin. I have never seen so disagreeable a schoolboy! No one +speaks to him, no one says good by to him when he goes out; there is not +even a dog who would give him a suggestion when he does not know his +lesson. And he cannot endure any one, and he pretends to despise Derossi +more than all, because he is the head boy; and Garrone, because he is +beloved by all. But Derossi pays no attention to him when he is by; and +when the boys tell Garrone that Nobis has been speaking ill of him, he +says:-- + +"His pride is so senseless that it does not deserve even my passing +notice." + +But Coretti said to him one day, when he was smiling disdainfully at his +catskin cap:-- + +"Go to Derossi for a while, and learn how to play the gentleman!" + +Yesterday he complained to the master, because the Calabrian touched his +leg with his foot. The master asked the Calabrian:-- + +"Did you do it intentionally?"--"No, sir," he replied, frankly.--"You +are too petulant, Nobis." + +And Nobis retorted, in his airy way, "I shall tell my father about it." +Then the teacher got angry. + +"Your father will tell you that you are in the wrong, as he has on other +occasions. And besides that, it is the teacher alone who has the right +to judge and punish in school." Then he added pleasantly:-- + +"Come, Nobis, change your ways; be kind and courteous to your comrades. +You see, we have here sons of workingmen and of gentlemen, of the rich +and the poor, and all love each other and treat each other like +brothers, as they are. Why do not you do like the rest? It would not +cost you much to make every one like you, and you would be so much +happier yourself, too!--Well, have you no reply to make me?" + +Nobis, who had listened to him with his customary scornful smile, +answered coldly:-- + +"No, sir." + +"Sit down," said the master to him. "I am sorry for you. You are a +heartless boy." + +This seemed to be the end of it all; but the little mason, who sits on +the front bench, turned his round face towards Nobis, who sits on the +back bench, and made such a fine and ridiculous hare's face at him, that +the whole class burst into a shout of laughter. The master reproved him; +but he was obliged to put his hand over his own mouth to conceal a +smile. And even Nobis laughed, but not in a pleasant way. + + +THE WOUNDS OF LABOR. + + Monday, 15th. + +Nobis can be paired off with Franti: neither of them was affected this +morning in the presence of the terrible sight which passed before their +eyes. On coming out of school, I was standing with my father and looking +at some big rogues of the second grade, who had thrown themselves on +their knees and were wiping off the ice with their cloaks and caps, in +order to make slides more quickly, when we saw a crowd of people appear +at the end of the street, walking hurriedly, all serious and seemingly +terrified, and conversing in low tones. In the midst of them were three +policemen, and behind the policemen two men carrying a litter. Boys +hastened up from all quarters. The crowd advanced towards us. On the +litter was stretched a man, pale as a corpse, with his head resting on +one shoulder, and his hair tumbled and stained with blood, for he had +been losing blood through the mouth and ears; and beside the litter +walked a woman with a baby in her arms, who seemed crazy, and who +shrieked from time to time, "He is dead! He is dead! He is dead!" + +Behind the woman came a boy who had a portfolio under his arm and who +was sobbing. + +"What has happened?" asked my father. A neighbor replied, that the man +was a mason who had fallen from the fourth story while at work. The +bearers of the litter halted for a moment. Many turned away their faces +in horror. I saw the schoolmistress of the red feather supporting my +mistress of the upper first, who was almost in a swoon. At the same +moment I felt a touch on the elbow; it was the little mason, who was +ghastly white and trembling from head to foot. He was certainly thinking +of his father. I was thinking of him, too. I, at least, am at peace in +my mind while I am in school: I know that my father is at home, seated +at his table, far removed from all danger; but how many of my companions +think that their fathers are at work on a very high bridge or close to +the wheels of a machine, and that a movement, a single false step, may +cost them their lives! They are like so many sons of soldiers who have +fathers in the battle. The little mason gazed and gazed, and trembled +more and more, and my father noticed it and said:-- + +"Go home, my boy; go at once to your father, and you will find him safe +and tranquil; go!" + +The little mason went off, turning round at every step. And in the +meanwhile the crowd had begun to move again, and the woman to shriek in +a way that rent the heart, "He is dead! He is dead! He is dead!" + +"No, no; he is not dead," people on all sides said to her. But she paid +no heed to them, and tore her hair. Then I heard an indignant voice say, +"You are laughing!" and at the same moment I saw a bearded man staring +in Franti's face. Then the man knocked his cap to the ground with his +stick, saying:-- + +"Uncover your head, you wicked boy, when a man wounded by labor is +passing by!" + +The crowd had already passed, and a long streak of blood was visible in +the middle of the street. + + +THE PRISONER. + + Friday, 17th. + +Ah, this is certainly the strangest event of the whole year! Yesterday +morning my father took me to the suburbs of Moncalieri, to look at a +villa which he thought of hiring for the coming summer, because we shall +not go to Chieri again this year, and it turned out that the person who +had the keys was a teacher who acts as secretary to the owner. He showed +us the house, and then he took us to his own room, where he gave us +something to drink. On his table, among the glasses, there was a wooden +inkstand, of a conical form, carved in a singular manner. Perceiving +that my father was looking at it, the teacher said:-- + +"That inkstand is very precious to me: if you only knew, sir, the +history of that inkstand!" And he told it. + +Years ago he was a teacher at Turin, and all one winter he went to give +lessons to the prisoners in the judicial prison. He gave the lessons in +the chapel of the prison, which is a circular building, and all around +it, on the high, bare walls, are a great many little square windows, +covered with two cross-bars of iron, each one of which corresponds to a +very small cell inside. He gave his lessons as he paced about the dark, +cold chapel, and his scholars stood at the holes, with their copy-books +resting against the gratings, showing nothing in the shadow but wan, +frowning faces, gray and ragged beards, staring eyes of murderers and +thieves. Among the rest there was one, No. 78, who was more attentive +than all the others, and who studied a great deal, and gazed at his +teacher with eyes full of respect and gratitude. He was a young man, +with a black beard, more unfortunate than wicked, a cabinet-maker who, +in a fit of rage, had flung a plane at his master, who had been +persecuting him for some time, and had inflicted a mortal wound on his +head: for this he had been condemned to several years of seclusion. In +three months he had learned to read and write, and he read constantly, +and the more he learned, the better he seemed to become, and the more +remorseful for his crime. One day, at the conclusion of the lesson, he +made a sign to the teacher that he should come near to his little +window, and he announced to him that he was to leave Turin on the +following day, to go and expiate his crime in the prison at Venice; and +as he bade him farewell, he begged in a humble and much moved voice, +that he might be allowed to touch the master's hand. The master offered +him his hand, and he kissed it; then he said:-- + +"Thanks! thanks!" and disappeared. The master drew back his hand; it was +bathed with tears. After that he did not see the man again. + +Six years passed. "I was thinking of anything except that unfortunate +man," said the teacher, "when, the other morning, I saw a stranger come +to the house, a man with a large black beard already sprinkled with +gray, and badly dressed, who said to me: 'Are you the teacher So-and-So, +sir?' 'Who are you?' I asked him. 'I am prisoner No. 78,' he replied; +'you taught me to read and write six years ago; if you recollect, you +gave me your hand at the last lesson; I have now expiated my crime, and +I have come hither--to beg you to do me the favor to accept a memento of +me, a poor little thing which I made in prison. Will you accept it in +memory of me, Signor Master?' + +"I stood there speechless. He thought that I did not wish to take it, +and he looked at me as much as to say, 'So six years of suffering are +not sufficient to cleanse my hands!' but with so poignant an expression +of pain did he gaze at me, that I instantly extended my hand and took +the little object. This is it." + +We looked attentively at the inkstand: it seemed to have been carved +with the point of a nail, and with, great patience; on its top was +carved a pen lying across a copy-book, and around it was written: "_To +my teacher. A memento of No. 78. Six years!_" And below, in small +letters, "_Study and hope._" + +The master said nothing more; we went away. But all the way from +Moncalieri to Turin I could not get that prisoner, standing at his +little window, that farewell to his master, that poor inkstand made in +prison, which told so much, out of my head; and I dreamed of them all +night, and was still thinking of them this morning--far enough from +imagining the surprise which awaited me at school! No sooner had I taken +my new seat, beside Derossi, and written my problem in arithmetic for +the monthly examination, than I told my companion the story of the +prisoner and the inkstand, and how the inkstand was made, with the pen +across the copy-book, and the inscription around it, "Six years!" +Derossi sprang up at these words, and began to look first at me and then +at Crossi, the son of the vegetable-vender, who sat on the bench in +front, with his back turned to us, wholly absorbed on his problem. + +"Hush!" he said; then, in a low voice, catching me by the arm, "don't +you know that Crossi spoke to me day before yesterday of having caught a +glimpse; of an inkstand in the hands of his father, who has returned +from America; a conical inkstand, made by hand, with a copy-book and a +pen,--that is the one; six years! He said that his father was in +America; instead of that he was in prison: Crossi was a little boy at +the time of the crime; he does not remember it; his mother has deceived +him; he knows nothing; let not a syllable of this escape!" + +I remained speechless, with my eyes fixed on Crossi. Then Derossi solved +his problem, and passed it under the bench to Crossi; he gave him a +sheet of paper; he took out of his hands the monthly story, _Daddy's +Nurse_, which the teacher had given him to copy out, in order that he +might copy it in his stead; he gave him pens, and stroked his shoulder, +and made me promise on my honor that I would say nothing to any one; and +when we left school, he said hastily to me:-- + +"His father came to get him yesterday; he will be here again this +morning: do as I do." + +We emerged into the street; Crossi's father was there, a little to one +side: a man with a black beard sprinkled with gray, badly dressed, with +a colorless and thoughtful face. Derossi shook Crossi's hand, in a way +to attract attention, and said to him in a loud tone, "Farewell until we +meet again, Crossi,"--and passed his hand under his chin. I did the +same. But as he did so, Derossi turned crimson, and so did I; and +Crossi's father gazed attentively at us, with a kindly glance; but +through it shone an expression of uneasiness and suspicion which made +our hearts grow cold. + + +DADDY'S NURSE. + +(_Monthly Story._) + +One morning, on a rainy day in March, a lad dressed like a country boy, +all muddy and saturated with water, with a bundle of clothes under his +arm, presented himself to the porter of the great hospital at Naples, +and, presenting a letter, asked for his father. He had a fine oval face, +of a pale brown hue, thoughtful eyes, and two thick lips, always half +open, which displayed extremely white teeth. He came from a village in +the neighborhood of Naples. His father, who had left home a year +previously to seek work in France, had returned to Italy, and had landed +a few days before at Naples, where, having fallen suddenly ill, he had +hardly time to write a line to announce his arrival to his family, and +to say that he was going to the hospital. His wife, in despair at this +news, and unable to leave home because she had a sick child, and a baby +at the breast, had sent her eldest son to Naples, with a few soldi, to +help his father--his _daddy_, as they called him: the boy had walked ten +miles. + +The porter, after glancing at the letter, called a nurse and told him to +conduct the lad to his father. + +"What father?" inquired the nurse. + +The boy, trembling with terror, lest he should hear bad news, gave the +name. + +The nurse did not recall such a name. + +"An old laborer, arrived from abroad?" he asked. + +"Yes, a laborer," replied the lad, still more uneasy; "not so very old. +Yes, arrived from abroad." + +"When did he enter the hospital?" asked the nurse. + +The lad glanced at his letter; "Five days ago, I think." + +The nurse stood a while in thought; then, as though suddenly recalling +him; "Ah!" he said, "the furthest bed in the fourth ward." + +"Is he very ill? How is he?" inquired the boy, anxiously. + +The nurse looked at him, without replying. Then he said, "Come with me." + +They ascended two flights of stairs, walked to the end of a long +corridor, and found themselves facing the open door of a large hall, +wherein two rows of beds were arranged. "Come," repeated the nurse, +entering. The boy plucked up his courage, and followed him, casting +terrified glances to right and left, on the pale, emaciated faces of the +sick people, some of whom had their eyes closed, and seemed to be dead, +while others were staring into the air, with their eyes wide open and +fixed, as though frightened. Some were moaning like children. The big +room was dark, the air was impregnated with an acute odor of medicines. +Two sisters of charity were going about with phials in their hands. + +Arrived at the extremity of the great room, the nurse halted at the head +of a bed, drew aside the curtains, and said, "Here is your father." + +The boy burst into tears, and letting fall his bundle, he dropped his +head on the sick man's shoulder, clasping with one hand the arm which +was lying motionless on the coverlet. The sick man did not move. + +The boy rose to his feet, and looked at his father, and broke into a +fresh fit of weeping. Then the sick man gave a long look at him, and +seemed to recognize him; but his lips did not move. Poor daddy, how he +was changed! The son would never have recognized him. His hair had +turned white, his beard had grown, his face was swollen, of a dull red +hue, with the skin tightly drawn and shining; his eyes were diminished +in size, his lips very thick, his whole countenance altered. There was +no longer anything natural about him but his forehead and the arch of +his eyebrows. He breathed with difficulty. + +"Daddy! daddy!" said the boy, "it is I; don't you know me? I am Cicillo, +your own Cicillo, who has come from the country: mamma has sent me. Take +a good look at me; don't you know me? Say one word to me." + +But the sick man, after having looked attentively at him, closed his +eyes. + +"Daddy! daddy! What is the matter with you? I am your little son--your +own Cicillo." + +The sick man made no movement, and continued to breathe painfully. + +Then the lad, still weeping, took a chair, seated himself and waited, +without taking his eyes from his father's face. "A doctor will surely +come to pay him a visit," he thought; "he will tell me something." And +he became immersed in sad thoughts, recalling many things about his kind +father, the day of parting, when he said the last good by to him on +board the ship, the hopes which his family had founded on his journey, +the desolation of his mother on the arrival of the letter; and he +thought of death: he beheld his father dead, his mother dressed in +black, the family in misery. And he remained a long time thus. A light +hand touched him on the shoulder, and he started up: it was a nun. + +"What is the matter with my father?" he asked her quickly. + +"Is he your father?" said the sister gently. + +"Yes, he is my father; I have come. What ails him?" + +"Courage, my boy," replied the sister; "the doctor will be here soon +now." And she went away without saying anything more. + +Half an hour later he heard the sound of a bell, and he saw the doctor +enter at the further end of the hall, accompanied by an assistant; the +sister and a nurse followed him. They began the visit, pausing at every +bed. This time of waiting seemed an eternity to the lad, and his anxiety +increased at every step of the doctor. At length they arrived at the +next bed. The doctor was an old man, tall and stooping, with a grave +face. Before he left the next bed the boy rose to his feet, and when he +approached he began to cry. + +The doctor looked at him. + +"He is the sick man's son," said the sister; "he arrived this morning +from the country." + +The doctor placed one hand on his shoulder; then bent over the sick man, +felt his pulse, touched his forehead, and asked a few questions of the +sister, who replied, "There is nothing new." Then he thought for a while +and said, "Continue the present treatment." + +Then the boy plucked up courage, and asked in a tearful voice, "What is +the matter with my father?" + +"Take courage, my boy," replied the doctor, laying his hand on his +shoulder once more; "he has erysipelas in his face. It is a serious +case, but there is still hope. Help him. Your presence may do him a +great deal of good." + +"But he does not know me!" exclaimed the boy in a tone of affliction. + +"He will recognize you--to-morrow perhaps. Let us hope for the best and +keep up our courage." + +The boy would have liked to ask some more questions, but he did not +dare. The doctor passed on. And then he began his life of nurse. As he +could do nothing else, he arranged the coverlets of the sick man, +touched his hand every now and then, drove away the flies, bent over him +at every groan, and when the sister brought him something to drink, he +took the glass or the spoon from her hand, and administered it in her +stead. The sick man looked at him occasionally, but he gave no sign of +recognition. However, his glance rested longer on the lad each time, +especially when the latter put his handkerchief to his eyes. + +Thus passed the first day. At night the boy slept on two chairs, in a +corner of the ward, and in the morning he resumed his work of mercy. +That day it seemed as though the eyes of the sick man revealed a dawning +of consciousness. At the sound of the boy's caressing voice a vague +expression of gratitude seemed to gleam for an instant in his pupils, +and once he moved his lips a little, as though he wanted to say +something. After each brief nap he seemed, on opening his eyes, to seek +his little nurse. The doctor, who had passed twice, thought he noted a +slight improvement. Towards evening, on putting the cup to his lips, the +lad fancied that he perceived a very faint smile glide across the +swollen lips. Then he began to take comfort and to hope; and with the +hope of being understood, confusedly at least, he talked to him--talked +to him at great length--of his mother, of his little sisters, of his own +return home, and he exhorted him to courage with warm and loving words. +And although he often doubted whether he was heard, he still talked; for +it seemed to him that even if he did not understand him, the sick man +listened with a certain pleasure to his voice,--to that unaccustomed +intonation of affection and sorrow. And in this manner passed the second +day, and the third, and the fourth, with vicissitudes of slight +improvements and unexpected changes for the worse; and the boy was so +absorbed in all his cares, that he hardly nibbled a bit of bread and +cheese twice a day, when the sister brought it to him, and hardly saw +what was going on around him,--the dying patients, the sudden running up +of the sisters at night, the moans and despairing gestures of +visitors,--all those doleful and lugubrious scenes of hospital life, +which on any other occasion would have disconcerted and alarmed him. +Hours, days, passed, and still he was there with his daddy; watchful, +wistful, trembling at every sigh and at every look, agitated incessantly +between a hope which relieved his mind and a discouragement which froze +his heart. + +On the fifth day the sick man suddenly grew worse. The doctor, on being +interrogated, shook his head, as much as to say that all was over, and +the boy flung himself on a chair and burst out sobbing. But one thing +comforted him. In spite of the fact that he was worse, the sick man +seemed to be slowly regaining a little intelligence. He stared at the +lad with increasing intentness, and, with an expression which grew in +sweetness, would take his drink and medicine from no one but him, and +made strenuous efforts with his lips with greater frequency, as though +he were trying to pronounce some word; and he did it so plainly +sometimes that his son grasped his arm violently, inspired by a sudden +hope, and said to him in a tone which was almost that of joy, "Courage, +courage, daddy; you will get well, we will go away from here, we will +return home with mamma; courage, for a little while longer!" + +It was four o'clock in the afternoon, and just when the boy had +abandoned himself to one of these outbursts of tenderness and hope, when +a sound of footsteps became audible outside the nearest door in the +ward, and then a strong voice uttering two words only,--"Farewell, +sister!"--which made him spring to his feet, with a cry repressed in his +throat. + +At that moment there entered the ward a man with a thick bandage on his +hand, followed by a sister. + +The boy uttered a sharp cry, and stood rooted to the spot. + +The man turned round, looked at him for a moment, and uttered a cry in +his turn,--"Cicillo!"--and darted towards him. + +The boy fell into his father's arms, choking with emotion. + +The sister, the nurse, and the assistant ran up, and stood there in +amazement. + +The boy could not recover his voice. + +"Oh, my Cicillo!" exclaimed the father, after bestowing an attentive +look on the sick man, as he kissed the boy repeatedly. "Cicillo, my son, +how is this? They took you to the bedside of another man. And there was +I, in despair at not seeing you after mamma had written, 'I have sent +him.' Poor Cicillo! How many days have you been here? How did this +mistake occur? I have come out of it easily! I have a good constitution, +you know! And how is mamma? And Concettella? And the little baby--how +are they all? I am leaving the hospital now. Come, then. Oh, Lord God! +Who would have thought it!" + +The boy tried to interpolate a few words, to tell the news of the +family. "Oh how happy I am!" he stammered. "How happy I am! What +terrible days I have passed!" And he could not finish kissing his +father. + +But he did not stir. + +"Come," said his father; "we can get home this evening." And he drew the +lad towards him. The boy turned to look at his patient. + +"Well, are you coming or not?" his father demanded, in amazement. + +The boy cast yet another glance at the sick man, who opened his eyes at +that moment and gazed intently at him. + +Then a flood of words poured from his very soul. "No, daddy; +wait--here--I can't. Here is this old man. I have been here for five +days. He gazes at me incessantly. I thought he was you. I love him +dearly. He looks at me; I give him his drink; he wants me always beside +him; he is very ill now. Have patience; I have not the courage--I don't +know--it pains me too much; I will return home to-morrow; let me stay +here a little longer; I don't at all like to leave him. See how he looks +at me! I don't know who he is, but he wants me; he will die alone: let +me stay here, dear daddy!" + +"Bravo, little fellow!" exclaimed the attendant. + +The father stood in perplexity, staring at the boy; then he looked at +the sick man. "Who is he?" he inquired. + +"A countryman, like yourself," replied the attendant, "just arrived from +abroad, and who entered the hospital on the very day that you entered +it. He was out of his senses when they brought him here, and could not +speak. Perhaps he has a family far away, and sons. He probably thinks +that your son is one of his." + +The sick man was still looking at the boy. + +The father said to Cicillo, "Stay." + +"He will not have to stay much longer," murmured the attendant. + +"Stay," repeated his father: "you have heart. I will go home +immediately, to relieve mamma's distress. Here is a scudo for your +expenses. Good by, my brave little son, until we meet!" + +He embraced him, looked at him intently, kissed him again on the brow, +and went away. + +The boy returned to his post at the bedside, and the sick man appeared +consoled. And Cicillo began again to play the nurse, no longer weeping, +but with the same eagerness, the same patience, as before; he again +began to give the man his drink, to arrange his bedclothes, to caress +his hand, to speak softly to him, to exhort him to courage. He attended +him all that day, all that night; he remained beside him all the +following day. But the sick man continued to grow constantly worse; his +face turned a purple color, his breathing grew heavier, his agitation +increased, inarticulate cries escaped his lips, the inflammation became +excessive. On his evening visit, the doctor said that he would not live +through the night. And then Cicillo redoubled his cares, and never took +his eyes from him for a minute. The sick man gazed and gazed at him, and +kept moving his lips from time to time, with great effort, as though he +wanted to say something, and an expression of extraordinary tenderness +passed over his eyes now and then, as they continued to grow smaller and +more dim. And that night the boy watched with him until he saw the first +rays of dawn gleam white through the windows, and the sister appeared. +The sister approached the bed, cast a glance at the patient, and then +went away with rapid steps. A few moments later she reappeared with the +assistant doctor, and with a nurse, who carried a lantern. + +"He is at his last gasp," said the doctor. + +The boy clasped the sick man's hand. The latter opened his eyes, gazed +at him, and closed them once more. + +At that moment the lad fancied that he felt his hand pressed. "He +pressed my hand!" he exclaimed. + +The doctor bent over the patient for an instant, then straightened +himself up. + +The sister detached a crucifix from the wall. + +"He is dead!" cried the boy. + +"Go, my son," said the doctor: "your work of mercy is finished. Go, and +may fortune attend you! for you deserve it. God will protect you. +Farewell!" + +The sister, who had stepped aside for a moment, returned with a little +bunch of violets which she had taken from a glass on the window-sill, +and handed them to the boy, saying:-- + +"I have nothing else to give you. Take these in memory of the hospital." + +"Thanks," returned the boy, taking the bunch of flowers with one hand +and drying his eyes with the other; "but I have such a long distance to +go on foot--I shall spoil them." And separating the violets, he +scattered them over the bed, saying: "I leave them as a memento for my +poor dead man. Thanks, sister! thanks, doctor!" Then, turning to the +dead man, "Farewell--" And while he sought a name to give him, the sweet +name which he had applied to him for five days recurred to his +lips,--"Farewell, poor daddy!" + +So saying, he took his little bundle of clothes under his arm, and, +exhausted with fatigue, he walked slowly away. The day was dawning. + + +THE WORKSHOP. + + Saturday, 18th. + +Precossi came last night to remind me that I was to go and see his +workshop, which is down the street, and this morning when I went out +with my father, I got him to take me there for a moment. As we +approached the shop, Garoffi issued from it on a run, with a package in +his hand, and making his big cloak, with which he covers up his +merchandise, flutter. Ah! now I know where he goes to pilfer iron +filings, which he sells for old papers, that barterer of a Garoffi! When +we arrived in front of the door, we saw Precossi seated on a little +pile of bricks, engaged in studying his lesson, with his book resting on +his knees. He rose quickly and invited us to enter. It was a large +apartment, full of coal-dust, bristling with hammers, pincers, bars, and +old iron of every description; and in one corner burned a fire in a +small furnace, where puffed a pair of bellows worked by a boy. Precossi, +the father, was standing near the anvil, and a young man was holding a +bar of iron in the fire. + +"Ah! here he is," said the smith, as soon as he caught sight of us, and +he lifted his cap, "the nice boy who gives away railway trains! He has +come to see me work a little, has he not? I shall be at your service in +a moment." And as he said it, he smiled; and he no longer had the +ferocious face, the malevolent eyes of former days. The young man handed +him a long bar of iron heated red-hot on one end, and the smith placed +it on the anvil. He was making one of those curved bars for the rail of +terrace balustrades. He raised a large hammer and began to beat it, +pushing the heated part now here, now there, between one point of the +anvil and the middle, and turning it about in various ways; and it was a +marvel to see how the iron curved beneath the rapid and accurate blows +of the hammer, and twisted, and gradually assumed the graceful form of a +leaf torn from a flower, like a pipe of dough which he had modelled with +his hands. And meanwhile his son watched us with a certain air of pride, +as much as to say, "See how my father works!" + +"Do you see how it is done, little master?" the blacksmith asked me, +when he had finished, holding out the bar, which looked like a bishop's +crosier. Then he laid it aside, and thrust another into the fire. + +"That was very well made, indeed," my father said to him. And he added, +"So you are working--eh! You have returned to good habits?" + +"Yes, I have returned," replied the workman, wiping away the +perspiration, and reddening a little. "And do you know who has made me +return to them?" My father pretended not to understand. "This brave +boy," said the blacksmith, indicating his son with his finger; "that +brave boy there, who studied and did honor to his father, while his +father rioted, and treated him like a dog. When I saw that medal--Ah! +thou little lad of mine, no bigger than a soldo[1] of cheese, come +hither, that I may take a good look at thy phiz!" + + [1] The twentieth part of a cubit; Florentine measure. + +The boy ran to him instantly; the smith took him and set him directly on +the anvil, holding him under the arms, and said to him:-- + +"Polish off the frontispiece of this big beast of a daddy of yours a +little!" + +And then Precossi covered his father's black face with kisses, until he +was all black himself. + +"That's as it should be," said the smith, and he set him on the ground +again. + +"That really is as it should be, Precossi!" exclaimed my father, +delighted. And bidding the smith and his son good day, he led me away. +As I was going out, little Precossi said to me, "Excuse me," and thrust +a little packet of nails into my pocket. I invited him to come and view +the Carnival from my house. + +"You gave him your railway train," my father said to me in the street; +"but if it had been made of gold and filled with pearls, it would still +have been but a petty gift to that sainted son, who has reformed his +father's heart." + + +THE LITTLE HARLEQUIN. + + Monday, 20th. + +The whole city is in a tumult over the Carnival, which is nearing its +close. In every square rise booths of mountebanks and jesters; and we +have under our windows a circus-tent, in which a little Venetian +company, with five horses, is giving a show. The circus is in the centre +of the square; and in one corner there are three very large vans in +which the mountebanks sleep and dress themselves,--three small houses on +wheels, with their tiny windows, and a chimney in each of them, which +smokes continually; and between window and window the baby's +swaddling-bands are stretched. There is one woman who is nursing a +child, who prepares the food, and dances on the tight-rope. Poor people! +The word _mountebank_ is spoken as though it were an insult; but they +earn their living honestly, nevertheless, by amusing all the world--and +how they work! All day long they run back and forth between the +circus-tent and the vans, in tights, in all this cold; they snatch a +mouthful or two in haste, standing, between two performances; and +sometimes, when they get their tent full, a wind arises, wrenches away +the ropes and extinguishes the lights, and then good by to the show! +They are obliged to return the money, and to work the entire night at +repairing their booth. There are two lads who work; and my father +recognized the smallest one as he was traversing the square; and he is +the son of the proprietor, the same one whom we saw perform tricks on +horseback last year in a circus on the Piazza Vittorio Emanuele. And he +has grown; he must be eight years old: he is a handsome boy, with a +round and roguish face, with so many black curls that they escape from +his pointed cap. He is dressed up like a harlequin, decked out in a sort +of sack, with sleeves of white, embroidered with black, and his slippers +are of cloth. He is a merry little imp. He charms every one. He does +everything. We see him early in the morning, wrapped in a shawl, +carrying milk to his wooden house; then he goes to get the horses at the +boarding-stable on the Via Bertola. He holds the tiny baby in his arms; +he transports hoops, trestles, rails, ropes; he cleans the vans, lights +the fire, and in his leisure moments he always hangs about his mother. +My father is always watching him from the window, and does nothing but +talk about him and his family, who have the air of nice people, and of +being fond of their children. + +One evening we went to the circus: it was cold; there was hardly any one +there; but the little harlequin exerted himself greatly to cheer those +few people: he executed precarious leaps; he caught hold of the horses' +tails; he walked with his legs in the air, all alone; he sang, always +with a smile constantly on his handsome little brown face. And his +father, who had on a red vest and white trousers, with tall boots, and a +whip in his hand, watched him: but it was melancholy. My father took +pity on him, and spoke of him on the following day to Delis the painter, +who came to see us. These poor people were killing themselves with hard +work, and their affairs were going so badly! The little boy pleased him +so much! What could be done for them? The painter had an idea. + +"Write a fine article for the _Gazette_," he said: "you know how to +write well: relate the miraculous things which the little harlequin +does, and I will take his portrait for you. Everybody reads the +_Gazette_, and people will flock thither for once." + +And thus they did. My father wrote a fine article, full of jests, which +told all that we had observed from the window, and inspired a desire to +see and caress the little artist; and the painter sketched a little +portrait which was graceful and a good likeness, and which was published +on Saturday evening. And behold! at the Sunday performance a great crowd +rushed to the circus. The announcement was made: _Performance for the +Benefit of the Little Harlequin_, as he was styled in the _Gazette_. The +circus was crammed; many of the spectators held the _Gazette_ in their +hands, and showed it to the little harlequin, who laughed and ran from +one to another, perfectly delighted. The proprietor was delighted also. +Just fancy! Not a single newspaper had ever done him such an honor, and +the money-box was filled. My father sat beside me. Among the spectators +we found persons of our acquaintance. Near the entrance for the horses +stood the teacher of gymnastics--the one who has been with Garibaldi; +and opposite us, in the second row, was the little mason, with his +little round face, seated beside his gigantic father; and no sooner did +he catch sight of me than he made a hare's face at me. A little further +on I espied Garoffi, who was counting the spectators, and calculated on +his fingers how much money the company had taken in. On one of the +chairs in the first row, not far from us, there was also poor Robetti, +the boy who saved the child from the omnibus, with his crutches between +his knees, pressed close to the side of his father, the artillery +captain, who kept one hand on his shoulder. The performance began. The +little harlequin accomplished wonders on his horse, on the trapeze, on +the tight-rope; and every time that he jumped down, every one clapped +their hands, and many pulled his curls. Then several others, +rope-dancers, jugglers, and riders, clad in tights, and sparkling with +silver, went through their exercises; but when the boy was not +performing, the audience seemed to grow weary. At a certain point I saw +the teacher of gymnastics, who held his post at the entrance for the +horses, whisper in the ear of the proprietor of the circus, and the +latter instantly glanced around, as though in search of some one. His +glance rested on us. My father perceived it, and understood that the +teacher had revealed that he was the author of the article, and in order +to escape being thanked, he hastily retreated, saying to me:-- + +"Remain, Enrico; I will wait for you outside." + +After exchanging a few words with his father, the little harlequin went +through still another trick: erect upon a galloping horse, he appeared +in four characters--as a pilgrim, a sailor, a soldier, and an acrobat; +and every time that he passed near me, he looked at me. And when he +dismounted, he began to make the tour of the circus, with his +harlequin's cap in his hand, and everybody threw soldi or sugar-plums +into it. I had two soldi ready; but when he got in front of me, instead +of offering his cap, he drew it back, gave me a look and passed on. I +was mortified. Why had he offered me that affront? + +The performance came to an end; the proprietor thanked the audience; and +all the people rose also, and thronged to the doors. I was confused by +the crowd, and was on the point of going out, when I felt a touch on my +hand. I turned round: it was the little harlequin, with his tiny brown +face and his black curls, who was smiling at me; he had his hands full +of sugar-plums. Then I understood. + +"Will you accept these sugar-plums from the little harlequin?" said he +to me, in his dialect. + +I nodded, and took three or four. + +"Then," he added, "please accept a kiss also." + +"Give me two," I answered; and held up my face to him. He rubbed off his +floury face with his hand, put his arm round my neck, and planted two +kisses on my cheek, saying:-- + +"There! take one of them to your father." + + +THE LAST DAY OF THE CARNIVAL. + + Tuesday, 21st. + +What a sad scene was that which we witnessed to-day at the procession of +the masks! It ended well; but it might have resulted in a great +misfortune. In the San Carlo Square, all decorated with red, white, and +yellow festoons, a vast multitude had assembled; masks of every hue were +flitting about; cars, gilded and adorned, in the shape of pavilions; +little theatres, barks filled with harlequins and warriors, cooks, +sailors, and shepherdesses; there was such a confusion that one knew not +where to look; a tremendous clash of trumpets, horns, and cymbals +lacerated the ears; and the masks on the chariots drank and sang, as +they apostrophized the people in the streets and at the windows, who +retorted at the top of their lungs, and hurled oranges and sugar-plums +at each other vigorously; and above the chariots and the throng, as far +as the eye could reach, one could see banners fluttering, helmets +gleaming, plumes waving, gigantic pasteboard heads moving, huge +head-dresses, enormous trumpets, fantastic arms, little drums, +castanets, red caps, and bottles;--all the world seemed to have gone +mad. When our carriage entered the square, a magnificent chariot was +driving in front of us, drawn by four horses covered with trappings +embroidered in gold, and all wreathed in artificial roses, upon which +there were fourteen or fifteen gentlemen masquerading as gentlemen at +the court of France, all glittering with silk, with huge white wigs, a +plumed hat, under the arm a small-sword, and a tuft of ribbons and laces +on the breast. They were very gorgeous. They were singing a French +canzonette in concert and throwing sweetmeats to the people, and the +people clapped their hands and shouted. Suddenly, on our left, we saw a +man lift a child of five or six above the heads of the crowd,--a poor +little creature, who wept piteously, and flung her arms about as though +in a fit of convulsions. The man made his way to the gentlemen's +chariot; one of the latter bent down, and the other said aloud:-- + +"Take this child; she has lost her mother in the crowd; hold her in your +arms; the mother may not be far off, and she will catch sight of her: +there is no other way." + +The gentleman took the child in his arms: all the rest stopped singing; +the child screamed and struggled; the gentleman removed his mask; the +chariot continued to move slowly onwards. Meanwhile, as we were +afterwards informed, at the opposite extremity of the square a poor +woman, half crazed with despair, was forcing her way through the crowd, +by dint of shoves and elbowing, and shrieking:-- + +"Maria! Maria! Maria! I have lost my little daughter! She has been +stolen from me! They have suffocated my child!" And for a quarter of an +hour she raved and expressed her despair in this manner, straying now a +little way in this direction, and then a little way in that, crushed by +the throng through which she strove to force her way. + +The gentleman on the car was meanwhile holding the child pressed against +the ribbons and laces on his breast, casting glances over the square, +and trying to calm the poor creature, who covered her face with her +hands, not knowing where she was, and sobbed as though she would break +her heart. The gentleman was touched: it was evident that these screams +went to his soul. All the others offered the child oranges and +sugar-plums; but she repulsed them all, and grew constantly more +convulsed and frightened. + +"Find her mother!" shouted the gentleman to the crowd; "seek her +mother!" And every one turned to the right and the left; but the mother +was not to be found. Finally, a few paces from the place where the Via +Roma enters the square, a woman was seen to rush towards the chariot. +Ah, I shall never forget that! She no longer seemed a human creature: +her hair was streaming, her face distorted, her garments torn; she +hurled herself forward with a rattle in her throat,--one knew not +whether to attribute it to either joy, anguish, or rage,--and darted out +her hands like two claws to snatch her child. The chariot halted. + +"Here she is," said the gentleman, reaching out the child after kissing +it; and he placed her in her mother's arms, who pressed her to her +breast like a fury. But one of the tiny hands rested a second longer in +the hands of the gentleman; and the latter, pulling off of his right +hand a gold ring set with a large diamond, and slipping it with a rapid +movement upon the finger of the little girl, said:-- + +"Take this; it shall be your marriage dowry." + +The mother stood rooted to the spot, as though enchanted; the crowd +broke into applause; the gentleman put on his mask again, his companions +resumed their song, and the chariot started on again slowly, amid a +tempest of hand-clapping and hurrahs. + + +THE BLIND BOYS. + + Thursday, 24th. + +The master is very ill, and they have sent in his stead the master of +the fourth grade, who has been a teacher in the Institute for the Blind. +He is the oldest of all the instructors, with hair so white that it +looks like a wig made of cotton, and he speaks in a peculiar manner, as +though he were chanting a melancholy song; but he does it well, and he +knows a great deal. No sooner had he entered the schoolroom than, +catching sight of a boy with a bandage on his eye, he approached the +bench, and asked him what was the matter. + +"Take care of your eyes, my boy," he said to him. And then Derossi asked +him:-- + +"Is it true, sir, that you have been a teacher of the blind?" + +"Yes, for several years," he replied. And Derossi said, in a low tone, +"Tell us something about it." + +The master went and seated himself at his table. + +Coretti said aloud, "The Institute for the Blind is in the Via Nizza." + +"You say blind--blind," said the master, "as you would say poor or ill, +or I know not what. But do you thoroughly comprehend the significance of +that word? Reflect a little. Blind! Never to see anything! Not to be +able to distinguish the day from night; to see neither the sky, nor sun, +nor your parents, nor anything of what is around you, and which you +touch; to be immersed in a perpetual obscurity, and as though buried in +the bowels of the earth! Make a little effort to close your eyes, and to +think of being obliged to remain forever thus; you will suddenly be +overwhelmed by a mental agony, by terror; it will seem to you impossible +to resist, that you must burst into a scream, that you must go mad or +die. But, poor boys! when you enter the Institute of the Blind for the +first time, during their recreation hour, and hear them playing on +violins and flutes in all directions, and talking loudly and laughing, +ascending and descending the stairs at a rapid pace, and wandering +freely through the corridors and dormitories, you would never pronounce +these unfortunates to be the unfortunates that they are. It is necessary +to observe them closely. There are lads of sixteen or eighteen, robust +and cheerful, who bear their blindness with a certain ease, almost with +hardihood; but you understand from a certain proud, resentful expression +of countenance that they must have suffered tremendously before they +became resigned to this misfortune. + +"There are others, with sweet and pallid faces, on which a profound +resignation is visible; but they are sad, and one understands that they +must still weep at times in secret. Ah, my sons! reflect that some of +them have lost their sight in a few days, some after years of martyrdom +and many terrible chirurgical operations, and that many were born +so,--born into a night that has no dawn for them, that they entered +into the world as into an immense tomb, and that they do not know what +the human countenance is like. Picture to yourself how they must have +suffered, and how they must still suffer, when they think thus +confusedly of the tremendous difference between themselves and those who +see, and ask themselves, 'Why this difference, if we are not to blame?' + +"I who have spent many years among them, when I recall that class, all +those eyes forever sealed, all those pupils without sight and without +life, and then look at the rest of you, it seems impossible to me that +you should not all be happy. Think of it! there are about twenty-six +thousand blind persons in Italy! Twenty-six thousand persons who do not +see the light--do you understand? An army which would employ four hours +in marching past our windows." + +The master paused. Not a breath was audible in all the school. Derossi +asked if it were true that the blind have a finer sense of feeling than +the rest of us. + +The master said: "It is true. All the other senses are finer in them, +because, since they must replace, among them, that of sight, they are +more and better exercised than they are in the case of those who see. In +the morning, in the dormitory, one asks another, 'Is the sun shining?' +and the one who is the most alert in dressing runs instantly into the +yard, and flourishes his hands in the air, to find out whether there is +any warmth of the sun perceptible, and then he runs to communicate the +good news, 'The sun is shining!' From the voice of a person they obtain +an idea of his height. We judge of a man's soul by his eyes; they, by +his voice. They remember intonations and accents for years. They +perceive if there is more than one person in a room, even if only one +speaks, and the rest remain motionless. They know by their touch whether +a spoon is more or less polished. Little girls distinguish dyed wools +from that which is of the natural color. As they walk two and two along +the streets, they recognize nearly all the shops by their odors, even +those in which we perceive no odor. They spin top, and by listening to +its humming they go straight to it and pick it up without any mistake. +They trundle hoop, play at ninepins, jump the rope, build little houses +of stones, pick violets as though they saw them, make mats and baskets, +weaving together straw of various colors rapidly and well--to such a +degree is their sense of touch skilled. The sense of touch is their +sight. One of their greatest pleasures is to handle, to grasp, to guess +the forms of things by feeling them. It is affecting to see them when +they are taken to the Industrial Museum, where they are allowed to +handle whatever they please, and to observe with what eagerness they +fling themselves on geometrical bodies, on little models of houses, on +instruments; with what joy they feel over and rub and turn everything +about in their hands, in order to see how it is made. They call this +_seeing_!" + +Garoffi interrupted the teacher to inquire if it was true that blind +boys learn to reckon better than others. + +The master replied: "It is true. They learn to reckon and to write. They +have books made on purpose for them, with raised characters; they pass +their fingers over these, recognize the letters and pronounce the words. +They read rapidly; and you should see them blush, poor little things, +when they make a mistake. And they write, too, without ink. They write +on a thick and hard sort of paper with a metal bodkin, which makes a +great many little hollows, grouped according to a special alphabet; +these little punctures stand out in relief on the other side of the +paper, so that by turning the paper over and drawing their fingers +across these projections, they can read what they have written, and also +the writing of others; and thus they write compositions: and they write +letters to each other. They write numbers in the same way, and they make +calculations; and they calculate mentally with an incredible facility, +since their minds are not diverted by the sight of surrounding objects, +as ours are. And if you could see how passionately fond they are of +reading, how attentive they are, how well they remember everything, how +they discuss among themselves, even the little ones, of things connected +with history and language, as they sit four or five on the same bench, +without turning to each other, and converse, the first with the third, +the second with the fourth, in a loud voice and all together, without +losing a single word, so acute and prompt is their hearing. + +"And they attach more importance to the examinations than you do, I +assure you, and they are fonder of their teachers. They recognize their +teacher by his step and his odor; they perceive whether he is in a good +or bad humor, whether he is well or ill, simply by the sound of a single +word of his. They want the teacher to touch them when he encourages and +praises them, and they feel of his hand and his arms in order to express +their gratitude. And they love each other and are good comrades to each +other. In play time they are always together, according to their wont. +In the girls' school, for instance, they form into groups according to +the instrument on which they play,--violinists, pianists, and +flute-players,--and they never separate. When they have become attached +to any one, it is difficult for them to break it off. They take much +comfort in friendship. They judge correctly among themselves. They have +a clear and profound idea of good and evil. No one grows so enthusiastic +as they over the narration of a generous action, of a grand deed." + +Votini inquired if they played well. + +"They are ardently fond of music," replied the master. "It is their +delight: music is their life. Little blind children, when they first +enter the Institute, are capable of standing three hours perfectly +motionless, to listen to playing. They learn easily; they play with +fire. When the teacher tells one of them that he has not a talent for +music, he feels very sorrowful, but he sets to studying desperately. Ah! +if you could hear the music there, if you could see them when they are +playing, with their heads thrown back a smile on their lips, their faces +aflame, trembling with emotion, in ecstasies at listening to that +harmony which replies to them in the obscurity which envelops them, you +would feel what a divine consolation is music! And they shout for joy, +they beam with happiness when a teacher says to them, "You will become +an artist." The one who is first in music, who succeeds the best on the +violin or piano, is like a king to them; they love, they venerate him. +If a quarrel arises between two of them, they go to him; if two friends +fall out, it is he who reconciles them. The smallest pupils, whom he +teaches to play, regard him as a father. Then all go to bid him good +night before retiring to bed. And they talk constantly of music. They +are already in bed, late at night, wearied by study and work, and half +asleep, and still they are discussing, in a low tone, operas, masters, +instruments, and orchestras. It is so great a punishment for them to be +deprived of the reading, or lesson in music, it causes them such sorrow +that one hardly ever has the courage to punish them in that way. That +which the light is to our eyes, music is to their hearts." + +Derossi asked whether we could not go to see them. + +"Yes," replied the teacher; "but you boys must not go there now. You +shall go there later on, when you are in a condition to appreciate the +whole extent of this misfortune, and to feel all the compassion which it +merits. It is a sad sight, my boys. You will sometimes see there boys +seated in front of an open window, enjoying the fresh air, with +immovable countenances, which seem to be gazing at the wide green +expanse and the beautiful blue mountains which you can see; and when you +remember that they see nothing--that they will never see anything--of +that vast loveliness, your soul is oppressed, as though you had +yourselves become blind at that moment. And then there are those who +were born blind, who, as they have never seen the world, do not complain +because they do not possess the image of anything, and who, therefore, +arouse less compassion. But there are lads who have been blind but a few +months, who still recall everything, who thoroughly understand all that +they have lost; and these have, in addition, the grief of feeling their +minds obscured, the dearest images grow a little more dim in their minds +day by day, of feeling the persons whom they have loved the most die out +of their memories. One of these boys said to me one day, with +inexpressible sadness, 'I should like to have my sight again, only for a +moment, in order to see mamma's face once more, for I no longer +remember it!' And when their mothers come to see them, the boys place +their hands on her face; they feel her over thoroughly from brow to +chin, and her ears, to see how they are made, and they can hardly +persuade themselves that they cannot see her, and they call her by name +many times, to beseech her that she will allow them, that she will make +them see her just once. How many, even hard-hearted men, go away in +tears! And when you do go out, your case seems to you to be the +exception, and the power to see people, houses, and the sky a hardly +deserved privilege. Oh! there is not one of you, I am sure, who, on +emerging thence, would not feel disposed to deprive himself of a portion +of his own sight, in order to bestow a gleam at least upon all those +poor children, for whom the sun has no light, for whom a mother has no +face!" + + +THE SICK MASTER. + + Saturday, 25th. + +Yesterday afternoon, on coming out of school, I went to pay a visit to +my sick master. He made himself ill by overworking. Five hours of +teaching a day, then an hour of gymnastics, then two hours more of +evening school, which is equivalent to saying but little sleep, getting +his food by snatches, and working breathlessly from morning till night. +He has ruined his health. That is what my mother says. My mother was +waiting for me at the big door; I came out alone, and on the stairs I +met the teacher with the black beard--Coatti,--the one who frightens +every one and punishes no one. He stared at me with wide-open eyes, and +made his voice like that of a lion, in jest, but without laughing. I +was still laughing when I pulled the bell on the fourth floor; but I +ceased very suddenly when the servant let me into a wretched, +half-lighted room, where my teacher was in bed. He was lying in a little +iron bed. His beard was long. He put one hand to his brow in order to +see better, and exclaimed in his affectionate voice:-- + +"Oh, Enrico!" + +I approached the bed; he laid one hand on my shoulder and said:-- + +"Good, my boy. You have done well to come and see your poor teacher. I +am reduced to a sad state, as you see, my dear Enrico. And how fares the +school? How are your comrades getting along? All well, eh? Even without +me? You do very well without your old master, do you not?" + +I was on the point of saying "no"; he interrupted me. + +"Come, come, I know that you do not hate me!" and he heaved a sigh. + +I glanced at some photographs fastened to the wall. + +"Do you see?" he said to me. "All of them are of boys who gave me their +photographs more than twenty years ago. They were good boys. These are +my souvenirs. When I die, my last glance will be at them; at those +roguish urchins among whom my life has been passed. You will give me +your portrait, also, will you not, when you have finished the elementary +course?" Then he took an orange from his nightstand, and put it in my +hand. + +"I have nothing else to give you," he said; "it is the gift of a sick +man." + +I looked at it, and my heart was sad; I know not why. + +"Attend to me," he began again. "I hope to get over this; but if I +should not recover, see that you strengthen yourself in arithmetic, +which is your weak point; make an effort. It is merely a question of a +first effort: because sometimes there is no lack of aptitude; there is +merely an absence of a fixed purpose--of stability, as it is called." + +But in the meantime he was breathing hard; and it was evident that he +was suffering. + +"I am feverish," he sighed; "I am half gone; I beseech you, therefore, +apply yourself to arithmetic, to problems. If you don't succeed at +first, rest a little and begin afresh. And press forward, but quietly +without fagging yourself, without straining your mind. Go! My respects +to your mamma. And do not mount these stairs again. We shall see each +other again in school. And if we do not, you must now and then call to +mind your master of the third grade, who was fond of you." + +I felt inclined to cry at these words. + +"Bend down your head," he said to me. + +I bent my head to his pillow; he kissed my hair. Then he said to me, +"Go!" and turned his face towards the wall. And I flew down the stairs; +for I longed to embrace my mother. + + +THE STREET. + + Saturday, 25th. + + I was watching you from the window this afternoon, when you were on + your way home from the master's; you came in collision with a + woman. Take more heed to your manner of walking in the street. + There are duties to be fulfilled even there. If you keep your steps + and gestures within bounds in a private house, why should you not + do the same in the street, which is everybody's house. Remember + this, Enrico. Every time that you meet a feeble old man, a poor + person, a woman with a child in her arms, a cripple with his + crutches, a man bending beneath a burden, a family dressed in + mourning, make way for them respectfully. We must respect age, + misery, maternal love, infirmity, labor, death. Whenever you see a + person on the point of being run down by a vehicle, drag him away, + if it is a child; warn him, if he is a man; always ask what ails + the child who is crying all alone; pick up the aged man's cane, + when he lets it fall. If two boys are fighting, separate them; if + it is two men, go away: do not look on a scene of brutal violence, + which offends and hardens the heart. And when a man passes, bound, + and walking between a couple of policemen, do not add your + curiosity to the cruel curiosity of the crowd; he may be innocent. + Cease to talk with your companion, and to smile, when you meet a + hospital litter, which is, perhaps, bearing a dying person, or a + funeral procession; for one may issue from your own home on the + morrow. Look with reverence upon all boys from the asylums, who + walk two and two,--the blind, the dumb, those afflicted with the + rickets, orphans, abandoned children; reflect that it is misfortune + and human charity which is passing by. Always pretend not to notice + any one who has a repulsive or laughter-provoking deformity. Always + extinguish every match that you find in your path; for it may cost + some one his life. Always answer a passer-by who asks you the way, + with politeness. Do not look at any one and laugh; do not run + without necessity; do not shout. Respect the street. The education + of a people is judged first of all by their behavior on the street. + Where you find offences in the streets, there you will find + offences in the houses. And study the streets; study the city in + which you live. If you were to be hurled far away from it + to-morrow, you would be glad to have it clearly present in your + memory, to be able to traverse it all again in memory. Your own + city, and your little country--that which has been for so many + years your world; where you took your first steps at your mother's + side; where you experienced your first emotions, opened your mind + to its first ideas; found your first friends. It has been a mother + to you: it has taught you, loved you, protected you. Study it in + its streets and in its people, and love it; and when you hear it + insulted, defend it. + + THY FATHER. + + + + +MARCH + + +THE EVENING SCHOOLS. + + Thursday, 2d. + +LAST night my father took me to see the evening schools in our Baretti +schoolhouse, which were all lighted up already, and where the workingmen +were already beginning to enter. On our arrival we found the head-master +and the other masters in a great rage, because a little while before the +glass in one window had been broken by a stone. The beadle had darted +forth and seized a boy by the hair, who was passing; but thereupon, +Stardi, who lives in the house opposite, had presented himself, and +said:-- + +"This is not the right one; I saw it with my own eyes; it was Franti who +threw it; and he said to me, 'Woe to you if you tell of me!' but I am +not afraid." + +Then the head-master declared that Franti should be expelled for good. +In the meantime I was watching the workingmen enter by twos and threes; +and more than two hundred had already entered. I have never seen +anything so fine as the evening school. There were boys of twelve and +upwards; bearded men who were on their way from their work, carrying +their books and copy-books; there were carpenters, engineers with black +faces, masons with hands white with plaster, bakers' boys with their +hair full of flour; and there was perceptible the odor of varnish, +hides, fish, oil,--odors of all the various trades. There also entered a +squad of artillery workmen, dressed like soldiers and headed by a +corporal. They all filed briskly to their benches, removed the board +underneath, on which we put our feet, and immediately bent their heads +over their work. + +Some stepped up to the teachers to ask explanations, with their open +copy-books in their hands. I caught sight of that young and well-dressed +master "the little lawyer," who had three or four workingmen clustered +round his table, and was making corrections with his pen; and also the +lame one, who was laughing with a dyer who had brought him a copy-book +all adorned with red and blue dyes. My master, who had recovered, and +who will return to school to-morrow, was there also. The doors of the +schoolroom were open. I was amazed, when the lessons began, to see how +attentive they all were, and how they kept their eyes fixed on their +work. Yet the greater part of them, so the head-master said, for fear of +being late, had not even been home to eat a mouthful of supper, and they +were hungry. + +But the younger ones, after half an hour of school, were falling off the +benches with sleep; one even went fast asleep with his head on the +bench, and the master waked him up by poking his ear with a pen. But the +grown-up men did nothing of the sort; they kept awake, and listened, +with their mouths wide open, to the lesson, without even winking; and it +made a deep impression on me to see all those bearded men on our +benches. We also ascended to the story floor above, and I ran to the +door of my schoolroom and saw in my seat a man with a big mustache and a +bandaged hand, who might have injured himself while at work about some +machine; but he was trying to write, though very, very slowly. + +But what pleased me most was to behold in the seat of the little mason, +on the very same bench and in the very same corner, his father, the +mason, as huge as a giant, who sat there all coiled up into a narrow +space, with his chin on his fists and his eyes on his book, so absorbed +that he hardly breathed. And there was no chance about it, for it was he +himself who said to the head-master the first evening he came to the +school:-- + +"Signor Director, do me the favor to place me in the seat of 'my hare's +face.'" For he always calls his son so. + +My father kept me there until the end, and in the street we saw many +women with children in their arms, waiting for their husbands; and at +the entrance a change was effected: the husbands took the children in +their arms, and the women made them surrender their books and +copy-books; and in this wise they proceeded to their homes. For several +minutes the street was filled with people and with noise. Then all grew +silent, and all we could see was the tall and weary form of the +head-master disappearing in the distance. + + +THE FIGHT. + + Sunday, 5th. + +It was what might have been expected. Franti, on being expelled by the +head-master, wanted to revenge himself on Stardi, and he waited for +Stardi at a corner, when he came out of school, and when the latter was +passing with his sister, whom he escorts every day from an institution +in the Via Dora Grossa. My sister Silvia, on emerging from her +schoolhouse, witnessed the whole affair, and came home thoroughly +terrified. This is what took place. Franti, with his cap of waxed cloth +canted over one ear, ran up on tiptoe behind Stardi, and in order to +provoke him, gave a tug at his sister's braid of hair,--a tug so violent +that it almost threw the girl flat on her back on the ground. The little +girl uttered a cry; her brother whirled round; Franti, who is much +taller and stronger than Stardi, thought:-- + +"He'll not utter a word, or I'll break his skin for him!" + +But Stardi never paused to reflect, and small and ill-made as he is, he +flung himself with one bound on that big fellow, and began to belabor +him with his fists. He could not hold his own, however, and he got more +than he gave. There was no one in the street but girls, so there was no +one who could separate them. Franti flung him on the ground; but the +other instantly got up, and then down he went on his back again, and +Franti pounded away as though upon a door: in an instant he had torn +away half an ear, and bruised one eye, and drawn blood from the other's +nose. But Stardi was tenacious; he roared:-- + +"You may kill me, but I'll make you pay for it!" And down went Franti, +kicking and cuffing, and Stardi under him, butting and lungeing out with +his heels. A woman shrieked from a window, "Good for the little one!" +Others said, "It is a boy defending his sister; courage! give it to him +well!" And they screamed at Franti, "You overbearing brute! you coward!" +But Franti had grown ferocious; he held out his leg; Stardi tripped and +fell, and Franti on top of him. + +"Surrender!"--"No!"--"Surrender!"--"No!" and in a flash Stardi recovered +his feet, clasped Franti by the body, and, with one furious effort, +hurled him on the pavement, and fell upon him with one knee on his +breast. + +"Ah, the infamous fellow! he has a knife!" shouted a man, rushing up to +disarm Franti. + +But Stardi, beside himself with rage, had already grasped Franti's arm +with both hands, and bestowed on the fist such a bite that the knife +fell from it, and the hand began to bleed. More people had run up in the +meantime, who separated them and set them on their feet. Franti took to +his heels in a sorry plight, and Stardi stood still, with his face all +scratched, and a black eye,--but triumphant,--beside his weeping sister, +while some of the girls collected the books and copy-books which were +strewn over the street. + +"Bravo, little fellow!" said the bystanders; "he defended his sister!" + +But Stardi, who was thinking more of his satchel than of his victory, +instantly set to examining the books and copy-books, one by one, to see +whether anything was missing or injured. He rubbed them off with his +sleeve, scrutinized his pen, put everything back in its place, and then, +tranquil and serious as usual, he said to his sister, "Let us go home +quickly, for I have a problem to solve." + + +THE BOYS' PARENTS. + + Monday, 6th. + +This morning big Stardi, the father, came to wait for his son, fearing +lest he should again encounter Franti. But they say that Franti will not +be seen again, because he will be put in the penitentiary. + +There were a great many parents there this morning. Among the rest there +was the retail wood-dealer, the father of Coretti, the perfect image of +his son, slender, brisk, with his mustache brought to a point, and a +ribbon of two colors in the button-hole of his jacket. I know nearly all +the parents of the boys, through constantly seeing them there. There is +one crooked grandmother, with her white cap, who comes four times a day, +whether it rains or snows or storms, to accompany and to get her little +grandson, of the upper primary; and she takes off his little cloak and +puts it on for him, adjusts his necktie, brushes off the dust, polishes +him up, and takes care of the copy-books. It is evident that she has no +other thought, that she sees nothing in the world more beautiful. The +captain of artillery also comes frequently, the father of Robetti, the +lad with the crutches, who saved a child from the omnibus, and as all +his son's companions bestow a caress on him in passing, he returns a +caress or a salute to every one, and he never forgets any one; he bends +over all, and the poorer and more badly dressed they are, the more +pleased he seems to be, and he thanks them. + +At times, however, sad sights are to be seen. A gentleman who had not +come for a month because one of his sons had died, and who had sent a +maidservant for the other, on returning yesterday and beholding the +class, the comrades of his little dead boy, retired into a corner and +burst into sobs, with both hands before his face, and the head-master +took him by the arm and led him to his office. + +There are fathers and mothers who know all their sons' companions by +name. There are girls from the neighboring schoolhouse, and scholars in +the gymnasium, who come to wait for their brothers. There is one old +gentleman who was a colonel formerly, and who, when a boy drops a +copy-book or a pen, picks it up for him. There are also to be seen +well-dressed men, who discuss school matters with others, who have +kerchiefs on their heads, and baskets on their arm, and who say:-- + +"Oh! the problem has been a difficult one this time."--"That grammar +lesson will never come to an end this morning!" + +And when there is a sick boy in the class, they all know it; when a sick +boy is convalescent, they all rejoice. And this morning there were eight +or ten gentlemen and workingmen standing around Crossi's mother, the +vegetable-vender, making inquiries about a poor baby in my brother's +class, who lives in her court, and who is in danger of his life. The +school seems to make them all equals and friends. + + +NUMBER 78. + + Wednesday, 8th. + +I witnessed a touching scene yesterday afternoon. For several days, +every time that the vegetable-vender has passed Derossi she has gazed +and gazed at him with an expression of great affection; for Derossi, +since he made the discovery about that inkstand and prisoner Number 78, +has acquired a love for her son, Crossi, the red-haired boy with the +useless arm; and he helps him to do his work in school, suggests answers +to him, gives him paper, pens, and pencils; in short, he behaves to him +like a brother, as though to compensate him for his father's misfortune, +which has affected him, although he does not know it. + +The vegetable-vender had been gazing at Derossi for several days, and +she seemed loath to take her eyes from him, for she is a good woman who +lives only for her son; and Derossi, who assists him and makes him +appear well, Derossi, who is a gentleman and the head of the school, +seems to her a king, a saint. She continued to stare at him, and seemed +desirous of saying something to him, yet ashamed to do it. But at last, +yesterday morning, she took courage, stopped him in front of a gate, and +said to him:-- + +"I beg a thousand pardons, little master! Will you, who are so kind to +my son, and so fond of him, do me the favor to accept this little +memento from a poor mother?" and she pulled out of her vegetable-basket +a little pasteboard box of white and gold. + +Derossi flushed up all over, and refused, saying with decision:-- + +"Give it to your son; I will accept nothing." + +The woman was mortified, and stammered an excuse:-- + +"I had no idea of offending you. It is only caramels." + +But Derossi said "no," again, and shook his head. Then she timidly +lifted from her basket a bunch of radishes, and said:-- + +"Accept these at least,--they are fresh,--and carry them to your mamma." + +Derossi smiled, and said:-- + +"No, thanks: I don't want anything; I shall always do all that I can for +Crossi, but I cannot accept anything. I thank you all the same." + +"But you are not at all offended?" asked the woman, anxiously. + +Derossi said "No, no!" smiled, and went off, while she exclaimed, in +great delight:-- + +"Oh, what a good boy! I have never seen so fine and handsome a boy as +he!" + +And that appeared to be the end of it. But in the afternoon, at four +o'clock, instead of Crossi's mother, his father approached, with that +gaunt and melancholy face of his. He stopped Derossi, and from the way +in which he looked at the latter I instantly understood that he +suspected Derossi of knowing his secret. He looked at him intently, and +said in his sorrowful, affectionate voice:-- + +"You are fond of my son. Why do you like him so much?" + +Derossi's face turned the color of fire. He would have liked to say: "I +am fond of him because he has been unfortunate; because you, his father, +have been more unfortunate than guilty, and have nobly expiated your +crime, and are a man of heart." But he had not the courage to say it, +for at bottom he still felt fear and almost loathing in the presence of +this man who had shed another's blood, and had been six years in prison. +But the latter divined it all, and lowering his voice, he said in +Derossi's ear, almost trembling the while:-- + +"You love the son; but you do not hate, do not wholly despise the +father, do you?" + +"Ah, no, no! Quite the reverse!" exclaimed Derossi, with a soulful +impulse. And then the man made an impetuous movement, as though to throw +one arm round his neck; but he dared not, and instead he took one of the +lad's golden curls between two of his fingers, smoothed it out, and +released it; then he placed his hand on his mouth and kissed his palm, +gazing at Derossi with moist eyes, as though to say that this kiss was +for him. Then he took his son by the hand, and went away at a rapid +pace. + + +A LITTLE DEAD BOY. + + Monday, 13th. + +The little boy who lived in the vegetable-vender's court, the one who +belonged to the upper primary, and was the companion of my brother, is +dead. Schoolmistress Delcati came in great affliction, on Saturday +afternoon, to inform the master of it; and instantly Garrone and Coretti +volunteered to carry the coffin. He was a fine little lad. He had won +the medal last week. He was fond of my brother, and he had presented him +with a broken money-box. My mother always caressed him when she met him. +He wore a cap with two stripes of red cloth. His father is a porter on +the railway. Yesterday (Sunday) afternoon, at half-past four o'clock, we +went to his house, to accompany him to the church. + +They live on the ground floor. Many boys of the upper primary, with +their mothers, all holding candles, and five or six teachers and several +neighbors were already collected in the courtyard. The mistress with the +red feather and Signora Delcati had gone inside, and through an open +window we beheld them weeping. We could hear the mother of the child +sobbing loudly. Two ladies, mothers of two school companions of the dead +child, had brought two garlands of flowers. + +Exactly at five o'clock we set out. In front went a boy carrying a +cross, then a priest, then the coffin,--a very, very small coffin, poor +child!--covered with a black cloth, and round it were wound the garlands +of flowers brought by the two ladies. On the black cloth, on one side, +were fastened the medal and honorable mentions which the little boy had +won in the course of the year. Garrone, Coretti, and two boys from the +courtyard bore the coffin. Behind the coffin, first came Signora +Delcati, who wept as though the little dead boy were her own; behind her +the other schoolmistresses; and behind the mistresses, the boys, among +whom were some very little ones, who carried bunches of violets in one +hand, and who stared in amazement at the bier, while their other hand +was held by their mothers, who carried candles. I heard one of them say, +"And shall I not see him at school again?" + +When the coffin emerged from the court, a despairing cry was heard from +the window. It was the child's mother; but they made her draw back into +the room immediately. On arriving in the street, we met the boys from a +college, who were passing in double file, and on catching sight of the +coffin with the medal and the schoolmistresses, they all pulled off +their hats. + +Poor little boy! he went to sleep forever with his medal. We shall never +see his red cap again. He was in perfect health; in four days he was +dead. On the last day he made an effort to rise and do his little task +in nomenclature, and he insisted on keeping his medal on his bed for +fear it would be taken from him. No one will ever take it from you +again, poor boy! Farewell, farewell! We shall always remember thee at +the Baretti School! Sleep in peace, dear little boy! + + +THE EVE OF THE FOURTEENTH OF MARCH. + +To-day has been more cheerful than yesterday. The thirteenth of March! +The eve of the distribution of prizes at the Theatre Vittorio Emanuele, +the greatest and most beautiful festival of the whole year! But this +time the boys who are to go upon the stage and present the certificates +of the prizes to the gentlemen who are to bestow them are not to be +taken at haphazard. The head-master came in this morning, at the close +of school, and said:-- + +"Good news, boys!" Then he called, "Coraci!" the Calabrian. The +Calabrian rose. "Would you like to be one of those to carry the +certificates of the prizes to the authorities in the theatre to-morrow?" +The Calabrian answered that he should. + +"That is well," said the head-master; "then there will also be a +representative of Calabria there; and that will be a fine thing. The +municipal authorities are desirous that this year the ten or twelve lads +who hand the prizes should be from all parts of Italy, and selected from +all the public school buildings. We have twenty buildings, with five +annexes--seven thousand pupils. Among such a multitude there has been no +difficulty in finding one boy for each region of Italy. Two +representatives of the Islands were found in the Torquato Tasso +schoolhouse, a Sardinian, and a Sicilian; the Boncompagni School +furnished a little Florentine, the son of a wood-carver; there is a +Roman, a native of Rome, in the Tommaseo building; several Venetians, +Lombards, and natives of Romagna have been found; the Monviso School +gives us a Neapolitan, the son of an officer; we furnish a Genoese and a +Calabrian,--you, Coraci,--with the Piemontese: that will make twelve. +Does not this strike you as nice? It will be your brothers from all +quarters of Italy who will give you your prizes. Look out! the whole +twelve will appear on the stage together. Receive them with hearty +applause. They are only boys, but they represent the country just as +though they were men. A small tricolored flag is the symbol of Italy as +much as a huge banner, is it not? + +"Applaud them warmly, then. Let it be seen that your little hearts are +all aglow, that your souls of ten years grow enthusiastic in the +presence of the sacred image of your fatherland." + +Having spoken thus, he went away, and the master said, with a smile, +"So, Coraci, you are to be the deputy from Calabria." + +And then all clapped their hands and laughed; and when we got into the +street, we surrounded Coraci, seized him by the legs, lifted him on +high, and set out to carry him in triumph, shouting, "Hurrah for the +Deputy of Calabria!" by way of making a noise, of course; and not in +jest, but quite the contrary, for the sake of making a celebration for +him, and with a good will, for he is a boy who pleases every one; and he +smiled. And thus we bore him as far as the corner, where we ran into a +gentleman with a black beard, who began to laugh. The Calabrian said, +"That is my father." And then the boys placed his son in his arms and +ran away in all directions. + + +THE DISTRIBUTION OF PRIZES. + + March 14th. + +Towards two o'clock the vast theatre was crowded,--pit, gallery, boxes, +stage, all were thronged; thousands of faces,--boys, gentlemen, +teachers, workingmen, women of the people, babies. There was a moving of +heads and hands, a flutter of feathers, ribbons, and curls, and loud and +merry murmur which inspired cheerfulness. The theatre was all decorated +with festoons of white, red, and green cloth. In the pit two little +stairways had been erected: one on the right, which the winners of +prizes were to ascend in order to reach the stage; the other, on the +left, which they were to descend after receiving their prizes. On the +front of the platform there was a row of red chairs; and from the back +of the one in the centre hung two laurel crowns. At the back of the +stage was a trophy of flags; on one side stood a small green table, and +upon it lay all the certificates of premiums, tied with tricolored +ribbons. The band of music was stationed in the pit, under the stage; +the schoolmasters and mistresses filled all one side of the first +balcony, which had been reserved for them; the benches and passages of +the pit were crammed with hundreds of boys, who were to sing, and who +had written music in their hands. At the back and all about, masters and +mistresses could be seen going to and fro, arranging the prize scholars +in lines; and it was full of parents who were giving a last touch to +their hair and the last pull to their neckties. + + [Illustration: "HURRAH FOR THE DEPUTY OF CALABRIA!"--Page 166.] + +No sooner had I entered my box with my family than I perceived in the +opposite box the young mistress with the red feather, who was smiling +and showing all the pretty dimples in her cheeks, and with her my +brother's teacher and "the little nun," dressed wholly in black, and my +kind mistress of the upper first; but she was so pale, poor thing! and +coughed so hard, that she could be heard all over the theatre. In the +pit I instantly espied Garrone's dear, big face and the little blond +head of Nelli, who was clinging close to the other's shoulder. A little +further on I saw Garoffi, with his owl's-beak nose, who was making great +efforts to collect the printed catalogues of the prize-winners; and he +already had a large bundle of them which he could put to some use in his +bartering--we shall find out what it is to-morrow. Near the door was the +wood-seller with his wife,--both dressed in festive attire,--together +with their boy, who has a third prize in the second grade. I was amazed +at no longer beholding the catskin cap and the chocolate-colored tights: +on this occasion he was dressed like a little gentleman. In one balcony +I caught a momentary glimpse of Votini, with a large lace collar; then +he disappeared. In a proscenium box, filled with people, was the +artillery captain, the father of Robetti, the boy with the crutches who +saved the child from the omnibus. + +On the stroke of two the band struck up, and at the same moment the +mayor, the prefect, the judge, the _provveditore_, and many other +gentlemen, all dressed in black, mounted the stairs on the right, and +seated themselves on the red chairs at the front of the platform. The +band ceased playing. The director of singing in the schools advanced +with a _baton_ in his hand. At a signal from him all the boys in the pit +rose to their feet; at another sign they began to sing. There were seven +hundred singing a very beautiful song,--seven hundred boys' voices +singing together; how beautiful! All listened motionless: it was a slow, +sweet, limpid song which seemed like a church chant. When they ceased, +every one applauded; then they all became very still. The distribution +of the prizes was about to begin. My little master of the second grade, +with his red head and his quick eyes, who was to read the names of the +prize-winners, had already advanced to the front of the stage. The +entrance of the twelve boys who were to present the certificates was +what they were waiting for. The newspapers had already stated that +there would be boys from all the provinces of Italy. Every one knew it, +and was watching for them and gazing curiously towards the spot where +they were to enter, and the mayor and the other gentlemen gazed also, +and the whole theatre was silent. + +All at once the whole twelve arrived on the stage at a run, and remained +standing there in line, with a smile. The whole theatre, three thousand +persons, sprang up simultaneously, breaking into applause which sounded +like a clap of thunder. The boys stood for a moment as though +disconcerted. "Behold Italy!" said a voice on the stage. All at once I +recognized Coraci, the Calabrian, dressed in black as usual. A gentleman +belonging to the municipal government, who was with us and who knew them +all, pointed them out to my mother. "That little blond is the +representative of Venice. The Roman is that tall, curly-haired lad, +yonder." Two or three of them were dressed like gentlemen; the others +were sons of workingmen, but all were neatly clad and clean. The +Florentine, who was the smallest, had a blue scarf round his body. They +all passed in front of the mayor, who kissed them, one after the other, +on the brow, while a gentleman seated next to him smilingly told him the +names of their cities: "Florence, Naples, Bologna, Palermo." And as each +passed by, the whole theatre clapped. Then they all ran to the green +table, to take the certificates. The master began to read the list, +mentioning the schoolhouses, the classes, the names; and the +prize-winners began to mount the stage and to file past. + +The foremost ones had hardly reached the stage, when behind the scenes +there became audible a very, very faint music of violins, which did not +cease during the whole time that they were filing past--a soft and +always even air, like the murmur of many subdued voices, the voices of +all the mothers, and all the masters and mistresses, giving counsel in +concert, and beseeching and administering loving reproofs. And +meanwhile, the prize-winners passed one by one in front of the seated +gentlemen, who handed them their certificates, and said a word or +bestowed a caress on each. + +The boys in the pit and the balconies applauded loudly every time that +there passed a very small lad, or one who seemed, from his garments, to +be poor; and also for those who had abundant curly hair, or who were +clad in red or white. Some of those who filed past belonged to the upper +primary, and once arrived there, they became confused and did not know +where to turn, and the whole theatre laughed. One passed, three spans +high, with a big knot of pink ribbon on his back, so that he could +hardly walk, and he got entangled in the carpet and tumbled down; and +the prefect set him on his feet again, and all laughed and clapped. +Another rolled headlong down the stairs, when descending again to the +pit: cries arose, but he had not hurt himself. Boys of all sorts +passed,--boys with roguish faces, with frightened faces, with faces as +red as cherries; comical little fellows, who laughed in every one's +face: and no sooner had they got back into the pit, than they were +seized upon by their fathers and mothers, who carried them away. + +When our schoolhouse's turn came, how amused I was! Many whom I knew +passed. Coretti filed by, dressed in new clothes from head to foot, with +his fine, merry smile, which displayed all his white teeth; but who +knows how many myriagrammes of wood he had already carried that morning! +The mayor, on presenting him with his certificate, inquired the meaning +of a red mark on his forehead, and as he did so, laid one hand on his +shoulder. I looked in the pit for his father and mother, and saw them +laughing, while they covered their mouths with one hand. Then Derossi +passed, all dressed in bright blue, with shining buttons, with all those +golden curls, slender, easy, with his head held high, so handsome, so +sympathetic, that I could have blown him a kiss; and all the gentlemen +wanted to speak to him and to shake his hand. + +Then the master cried, "Giulio Robetti!" and we saw the captain's son +come forward on his crutches. Hundreds of boys knew the occurrence; a +rumor ran round in an instant; a salvo of applause broke forth, and of +shouts, which made the theatre tremble: men sprang to their feet, the +ladies began to wave their handkerchiefs, and the poor boy halted in the +middle of the stage, amazed and trembling. The mayor drew him to him, +gave him his prize and a kiss, and removing the two laurel crowns which +were hanging from the back of the chair, he strung them on the +cross-bars of his crutches. Then he accompanied him to the proscenium +box, where his father, the captain, was seated; and the latter lifted +him bodily and set him down inside, amid an indescribable tumult of +bravos and hurrahs. + +Meanwhile, the soft and gentle music of the violins continued, and the +boys continued to file by,--those from the Schoolhouse della Consolata, +nearly all the sons of petty merchants; those from the Vanchiglia +School, the sons of workingmen; those from the Boncompagni School, many +of whom were the sons of peasants; those of the Rayneri, which was the +last. As soon as it was over, the seven hundred boys in the pit sang +another very beautiful song; then the mayor spoke, and after him the +judge, who terminated his discourse by saying to the boys:-- + +"But do not leave this place without sending a salute to those who toil +so hard for you; who have consecrated to you all the strength of their +intelligence and of their hearts; who live and die for you. There they +are; behold them!" And he pointed to the balcony of teachers. Then, from +the balconies, from the pit, from the boxes, the boys rose, and extended +their arms towards the masters and mistresses, with a shout, and the +latter responded by waving their hands, their hats, and handkerchiefs, +as they all stood up, in their emotion. After this, the band played once +more, and the audience sent a last noisy salute to the twelve lads of +all the provinces of Italy, who presented themselves at the front of the +stage, all drawn up in line, with their hands interlaced, beneath a +shower of flowers. + + +STRIFE. + + Monday, 26th. + +However, it is not out of envy, because he got the prize and I did not, +that I quarrelled with Coretti this morning. It was not out of envy. But +I was in the wrong. The teacher had placed him beside me, and I was +writing in my copy-book for calligraphy; he jogged my elbow and made me +blot and soil the monthly story, _Blood of Romagna_, which I was to copy +for the little mason, who is ill. I got angry, and said a rude word to +him. He replied, with a smile, "I did not do it intentionally." I should +have believed him, because I know him; but it displeased me that he +should smile, and I thought:-- + +"Oh! now that he has had a prize, he has grown saucy!" and a little +while afterwards, to revenge myself, I gave him a jog which made him +spoil his page. Then, all crimson with wrath, "You did that on purpose," +he said to me, and raised his hand: the teacher saw it; he drew it back. +But he added:-- + +"I shall wait for you outside!" I felt ill at ease; my wrath had +simmered away; I repented. No; Coretti could not have done it +intentionally. He is good, I thought. I recalled how I had seen him in +his own home; how he had worked and helped his sick mother; and then how +heartily he had been welcomed in my house; and how he had pleased my +father. What would I not have given not to have said that word to him; +not to have insulted him thus! And I thought of the advice that my +father had given to me: "Have you done wrong?"--"Yes."--"Then beg his +pardon." But this I did not dare to do; I was ashamed to humiliate +myself. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, and I saw his coat +ripped on the shoulder,--perhaps because he had carried too much +wood,--and I felt that I loved him; and I said to myself, "Courage!" But +the words, "excuse me," stuck in my throat. He looked at me askance from +time to time, and he seemed to me to be more grieved than angry. But at +such times I looked malevolently at him, to show him that I was not +afraid. + +He repeated, "We shall meet outside!" And I said, "We shall meet +outside!" But I was thinking of what my father had once said to me, "If +you are wronged, defend yourself, but do not fight." + +And I said to myself, "I will defend myself, but I will not fight." But +I was discontented, and I no longer listened to the master. At last the +moment of dismissal arrived. When I was alone in the street I perceived +that he was following me. I stopped and waited for him, ruler in hand. +He approached; I raised my ruler. + +"No, Enrico," he said, with his kindly smile, waving the ruler aside +with his hand; "let us be friends again, as before." + +I stood still in amazement, and then I felt what seemed to be a hand +dealing a push on my shoulders, and I found myself in his arms. He +kissed me, and said:-- + +"We'll have no more altercations between us, will we?" + +"Never again! never again!" I replied. And we parted content. But when I +returned home, and told my father all about it, thinking to give him +pleasure, his face clouded over, and he said:-- + +"You should have been the first to offer your hand, since you were in +the wrong." Then he added, "You should not raise your ruler at a comrade +who is better than you are--at the son of a soldier!" and snatching the +ruler from my hand, he broke it in two, and hurled it against the wall. + + +MY SISTER. + + Friday, 24th. + + Why, Enrico, after our father has already reproved you for having + behaved badly to Coretti, were you so unkind to me? You cannot + imagine the pain that you caused me. Do you not know that when you + were a baby, I stood for hours and hours beside your cradle, + instead of playing with my companions, and that when you were ill, + I got out of bed every night to feel whether your forehead was + burning? Do you not know, you who grieve your sister, that if a + tremendous misfortune should overtake us, I should be a mother to + you and love you like my son? Do you not know that when our father + and mother are no longer here, I shall be your best friend, the + only person with whom you can talk about our dead and your infancy, + and that, should it be necessary, I shall work for you, Enrico, to + earn your bread and to pay for your studies, and that I shall + always love you when you are grown up, that I shall follow you in + thought when you go far away, always because we grew up together + and have the same blood? O Enrico, be sure of this when you are a + man, that if misfortune happens to you, if you are alone, be very + sure that you will seek me, that you will come to me and say: + "Silvia, sister, let me stay with you; let us talk of the days when + we were happy--do you remember? Let us talk of our mother, of our + home, of those beautiful days that are so far away." O Enrico, you + will always find your sister with her arms wide open. Yes, dear + Enrico; and you must forgive me for the reproof that I am + administering to you now. I shall never recall any wrong of yours; + and if you should give me other sorrows, what matters it? You will + always be my brother, the same brother; I shall never recall you + otherwise than as having held you in my arms when a baby, of having + loved our father and mother with you, of having watched you grow + up, of having been for years your most faithful companion. But do + you write me a kind word in this same copy-book, and I will come + for it and read it before the evening. In the meanwhile, to show + you that I am not angry with you, and perceiving that you are + weary, I have copied for you the monthly story, _Blood of Romagna_, + which you were to have copied for the little sick mason. Look in + the left drawer of your table; I have been writing all night, while + you were asleep. Write me a kind word, Enrico, I beseech you. + + THY SISTER SILVIA. + + I am not worthy to kiss your hands.--ENRICO. + + +BLOOD OF ROMAGNA. + +(_Monthly Story._) + +That evening the house of Ferruccio was more silent than was its wont. +The father, who kept a little haberdasher's shop, had gone to Forli to +make some purchases, and his wife had accompanied him, with Luigina, a +baby, whom she was taking to a doctor, that he might operate on a +diseased eye; and they were not to return until the following morning. +It was almost midnight. The woman who came to do the work by day had +gone away at nightfall. In the house there was only the grandmother with +the paralyzed legs, and Ferruccio, a lad of thirteen. It was a small +house of but one story, situated on the highway, at a gunshot's distance +from a village not far from Forli, a town of Romagna; and there was near +it only an uninhabited house, ruined two months previously by fire, on +which the sign of an inn was still to be seen. Behind the tiny house was +a small garden surrounded by a hedge, upon which a rustic gate opened; +the door of the shop, which also served as the house door, opened on the +highway. All around spread the solitary campagna, vast cultivated +fields, planted with mulberry-trees. + +It was nearly midnight; it was raining and blowing. Ferruccio and his +grandmother, who was still up, were in the dining-room, between which +and the garden there was a small, closet-like room, encumbered with old +furniture. Ferruccio had only returned home at eleven o'clock, after an +absence of many hours, and his grandmother had watched for him with eyes +wide open, filled with anxiety, nailed to the large arm-chair, upon +which she was accustomed to pass the entire day, and often the whole +night as well, since a difficulty of breathing did not allow her to lie +down in bed. + +It was raining, and the wind beat the rain against the window-panes: the +night was very dark. Ferruccio had returned weary, muddy, with his +jacket torn, and the livid mark of a stone on his forehead. He had +engaged in a stone fight with his comrades; they had come to blows, as +usual; and in addition he had gambled, and lost all his soldi, and left +his cap in a ditch. + +Although the kitchen was illuminated only by a small oil lamp, placed on +the corner of the table, near the arm-chair, his poor grandmother had +instantly perceived the wretched condition of her grandson, and had +partly divined, partly brought him to confess, his misdeeds. + +She loved this boy with all her soul. When she had learned all, she +began to cry. + +"Ah, no!" she said, after a long silence, "you have no heart for your +poor grandmother. You have no feeling, to take advantage in this manner +of the absence of your father and mother, to cause me sorrow. You have +left me alone the whole day long. You had not the slightest compassion. +Take care, Ferruccio! You are entering on an evil path which will lead +you to a sad end. I have seen others begin like you, and come to a bad +end. If you begin by running away from home, by getting into brawls with +the other boys, by losing soldi, then, gradually, from stone fights you +will come to knives, from gambling to other vices, and from other vices +to--theft." + +Ferruccio stood listening three paces away, leaning against a cupboard, +with his chin on his breast and his brows knit, being still hot with +wrath from the brawl. A lock of fine chestnut hair fell across his +forehead, and his blue eyes were motionless. + +"From gambling to theft!" repeated his grandmother, continuing to weep. +"Think of it, Ferruccio! Think of that scourge of the country about +here, of that Vito Mozzoni, who is now playing the vagabond in the town; +who, at the age of twenty-four, has been twice in prison, and has made +that poor woman, his mother, die of a broken heart--I knew her; and his +father has fled to Switzerland in despair. Think of that bad fellow, +whose salute your father is ashamed to return: he is always roaming with +miscreants worse than himself, and some day he will go to the galleys. +Well, I knew him as a boy, and he began as you are doing. Reflect that +you will reduce your father and mother to the same end as his." + +Ferruccio held his peace. He was not at all remorseful at heart; quite +the reverse: his misdemeanors arose rather from superabundance of life +and audacity than from an evil mind; and his father had managed him +badly in precisely this particular, that, holding him capable, at +bottom, of the finest sentiments, and also, when put to the proof, of a +vigorous and generous action, he left the bridle loose upon his neck, +and waited for him to acquire judgment for himself. The lad was good +rather than perverse, but stubborn; and it was hard for him, even when +his heart was oppressed with repentance, to allow those good words which +win pardon to escape his lips, "If I have done wrong, I will do so no +more; I promise it; forgive me." His soul was full of tenderness at +times; but pride would not permit it to manifest itself. + +"Ah, Ferruccio," continued his grandmother, perceiving that he was thus +dumb, "not a word of penitence do you utter to me! You see to what a +condition I am reduced, so that I am as good as actually buried. You +ought not to have the heart to make me suffer so, to make the mother of +your mother, who is so old and so near her last day, weep; the poor +grandmother who has always loved you so, who rocked you all night long, +night after night, when you were a baby a few months old, and who did +not eat for amusing you,--you do not know that! I always said, 'This boy +will be my consolation!' And now you are killing me! I would willingly +give the little life that remains to me if I could see you become a good +boy, and an obedient one, as you were in those days when I used to lead +you to the sanctuary--do you remember, Ferruccio? You used to fill my +pockets with pebbles and weeds, and I carried you home in my arms, fast +asleep. You used to love your poor grandma then. And now I am a +paralytic, and in need of your affection as of the air to breathe, since +I have no one else in the world, poor, half-dead woman that I am: my +God!" + +Ferruccio was on the point of throwing himself on his grandmother, +overcome with emotion, when he fancied that he heard a slight noise, a +creaking in the small adjoining room, the one which opened on the +garden. But he could not make out whether it was the window-shutters +rattling in the wind, or something else. + +He bent his head and listened. + +The rain beat down noisily. + +The sound was repeated. His grandmother heard it also. + +"What is it?" asked the grandmother, in perturbation, after a momentary +pause. + +"The rain," murmured the boy. + +"Then, Ferruccio," said the old woman, drying her eyes, "you promise me +that you will be good, that you will not make your poor grandmother weep +again--" + +Another faint sound interrupted her. + +"But it seems to me that it is not the rain!" she exclaimed, turning +pale. "Go and see!" + +But she instantly added, "No; remain here!" and seized Ferruccio by the +hand. + +Both remained as they were, and held their breath. All they heard was +the sound of the water. + +Then both were seized with a shivering fit. + +It seemed to both that they heard footsteps in the next room. + +"Who's there?" demanded the lad, recovering his breath with an effort. + +No one replied. + +"Who is it?" asked Ferruccio again, chilled with terror. + +But hardly had he pronounced these words when both uttered a shriek of +terror. Two men sprang into the room. One of them grasped the boy and +placed one hand over his mouth; the other clutched the old woman by the +throat. The first said:-- + +"Silence, unless you want to die!" + +The second:-- + +"Be quiet!" and raised aloft a knife. + +Both had dark cloths over their faces, with two holes for the eyes. + +For a moment nothing was audible but the gasping breath of all four, the +patter of the rain; the old woman emitted frequent rattles from her +throat, and her eyes were starting from her head. + +The man who held the boy said in his ear, "Where does your father keep +his money?" + +The lad replied in a thread of a voice, with chattering teeth, +"Yonder--in the cupboard." + +"Come with me," said the man. + +And he dragged him into the closet room, holding him securely by the +throat. There was a dark lantern standing on the floor. + +"Where is the cupboard?" he demanded. + +The suffocating boy pointed to the cupboard. + +Then, in order to make sure of the boy, the man flung him on his knees +in front of the cupboard, and, pressing his neck closely between his own +legs, in such a way that he could throttle him if he shouted, and +holding his knife in his teeth and his lantern in one hand, with the +other he pulled from his pocket a pointed iron, drove it into the lock, +fumbled about, broke it, threw the doors wide open, tumbled everything +over in a perfect fury of haste, filled his pockets, shut the cupboard +again, opened it again, made another search; then he seized the boy by +the windpipe again, and pushed him to where the other man was still +grasping the old woman, who was convulsed, with her head thrown back and +her mouth open. + +The latter asked in a low voice, "Did you find it?" + +His companion replied, "I found it." + +And he added, "See to the door." + +The one that was holding the old woman ran to the door of the garden to +see if there were any one there, and called in from the little room, in +a voice that resembled a hiss, "Come!" + +The one who remained behind, and who was still holding Ferruccio fast, +showed his knife to the boy and the old woman, who had opened her eyes +again, and said, "Not a sound, or I'll come back and cut your throat." + +And he glared at the two for a moment. + +At this juncture, a song sung by many voices became audible far off on +the highway. + +The robber turned his head hastily toward the door, and the violence of +the movement caused the cloth to fall from his face. + +The old woman gave vent to a shriek; "Mozzoni!" + +"Accursed woman," roared the robber, on finding himself recognized, "you +shall die!" + +And he hurled himself, with his knife raised, against the old woman, who +swooned on the spot. + +The assassin dealt the blow. + +But Ferruccio, with an exceedingly rapid movement, and uttering a cry of +desperation, had rushed to his grandmother, and covered her body with +his own. The assassin fled, stumbling against the table and overturning +the light, which was extinguished. + +The boy slipped slowly from above his grandmother, fell on his knees, +and remained in that attitude, with his arms around her body and his +head upon her breast. + +Several moments passed; it was very dark; the song of the peasants +gradually died away in the campagna. The old woman recovered her senses. + +"Ferruccio!" she cried, in a voice that was barely intelligible, with +chattering teeth. + +"Grandmamma!" replied the lad. + +The old woman made an effort to speak; but terror had paralyzed her +tongue. + +She remained silent for a while, trembling violently. + +Then she succeeded in asking:-- + +"They are not here now?" + +"No." + +"They did not kill me," murmured the old woman in a stifled voice. + +"No; you are safe," said Ferruccio, in a weak voice. "You are safe, dear +grandmother. They carried off the money. But daddy had taken nearly all +of it with him." + +His grandmother drew a deep breath. + +"Grandmother," said Ferruccio, still kneeling, and pressing her close to +him, "dear grandmother, you love me, don't you?" + +"O Ferruccio! my poor little son!" she replied, placing her hands on his +head; "what a fright you must have had!--O Lord God of mercy!--Light the +lamp. No; let us still remain in the dark! I am still afraid." + +"Grandmother," resumed the boy, "I have always caused you grief." + +"No, Ferruccio, you must not say such things; I shall never think of +that again; I have forgotten everything, I love you so dearly!" + +"I have always caused you grief," pursued Ferruccio, with difficulty, +and his voice quivered; "but I have always loved you. Do you forgive +me?--Forgive me, grandmother." + +"Yes, my son, I forgive you with all my heart. Think, how could I help +forgiving you! Rise from your knees, my child. I will never scold you +again. You are so good, so good! Let us light the lamp. Let us take +courage a little. Rise, Ferruccio." + +"Thanks, grandmother," said the boy, and his voice was still weaker. +"Now--I am content. You will remember me, grandmother--will you not? You +will always remember me--your Ferruccio?" + +"My Ferruccio!" exclaimed his grandmother, amazed and alarmed, as she +laid her hands on his shoulders and bent her head, as though to look him +in his face. + +"Remember me," murmured the boy once more, in a voice that seemed like a +breath. "Give a kiss to my mother--to my father--to Luigina.--Good by, +grandmother." + +"In the name of Heaven, what is the matter with you?" shrieked the old +woman, feeling the boy's head anxiously, as it lay upon her knees; and +then with all the power of voice of which her throat was capable, and in +desperation: "Ferruccio! Ferruccio! Ferruccio! My child! My love! Angels +of Paradise, come to my aid!" + +But Ferruccio made no reply. The little hero, the saviour of the mother +of his mother, stabbed by a blow from a knife in the back, had rendered +up his beautiful and daring soul to God. + + +THE LITTLE MASON ON HIS SICK-BED. + + Tuesday, 18th. + +The poor little mason is seriously ill; the master told us to go and see +him; and Garrone, Derossi, and I agreed to go together. Stardi would +have come also, but as the teacher had assigned us the description of +_The Monument to Cavour_, he told us that he must go and see the +monument, in order that his description might be more exact. So, by way +of experiment, we invited that puffed-up fellow, Nobis, who replied +"No," and nothing more. Votini also excused himself, perhaps because he +was afraid of soiling his clothes with plaster. + +We went there when we came out of school at four o'clock. It was raining +in torrents. On the street Garrone halted, and said, with his mouth full +of bread:-- + +"What shall I buy?" and he rattled a couple of soldi in his pocket. We +each contributed two soldi, and purchased three huge oranges. We +ascended to the garret. At the door Derossi removed his medal and put it +in his pocket. I asked him why. + +"I don't know," he answered; "in order not to have the air: it strikes +me as more delicate to go in without my medal." We knocked; the father, +that big man who looks like a giant, opened to us; his face was +distorted so that he appeared terrified. + +"Who are you?" he demanded. Garrone replied:-- + +"We are Antonio's schoolmates, and we have brought him three oranges." + +"Ah, poor Tonino!" exclaimed the mason, shaking his head, "I fear that +he will never eat your oranges!" and he wiped his eyes with the back of +his hand. He made us come in. We entered an attic room, where we saw +"the little mason" asleep in a little iron bed; his mother hung +dejectedly over the bed, with her face in her hands, and she hardly +turned to look at us; on one side hung brushes, a trowel, and a +plaster-sieve; over the feet of the sick boy was spread the mason's +jacket, white with lime. The poor boy was emaciated; very, very white; +his nose was pointed, and his breath was short. O dear Tonino, my little +comrade! you who were so kind and merry, how it pains me! what would I +not give to see you make the hare's face once more, poor little mason! +Garrone laid an orange on his pillow, close to his face; the odor waked +him; he grasped it instantly; then let go of it, and gazed intently at +Garrone. + +"It is I," said the latter; "Garrone: do you know me?" He smiled almost +imperceptibly, lifted his stubby hand with difficulty from the bed and +held it out to Garrone, who took it between his, and laid it against his +cheek, saying:-- + +"Courage, courage, little mason; you are going to get well soon and come +back to school, and the master will put you next to me; will that please +you?" + +But the little mason made no reply. His mother burst into sobs: "Oh, my +poor Tonino! My poor Tonino! He is so brave and good, and God is going +to take him from us!" + +"Silence!" cried the mason; "silence, for the love of God, or I shall +lose my reason!" + +Then he said to us, with anxiety: "Go, go, boys, thanks; go! what do you +want to do here? Thanks; go home!" The boy had closed his eyes again, +and appeared to be dead. + +"Do you need any assistance?" asked Garrone. + +"No, my good boy, thanks," the mason answered. And so saying, he pushed +us out on the landing, and shut the door. But we were not half-way down +the stairs, when we heard him calling, "Garrone! Garrone!" + +We all three mounted the stairs once more in haste. + +"Garrone!" shouted the mason, with a changed countenance, "he has called +you by name; it is two days since he spoke; he has called you twice; he +wants you; come quickly! Ah, holy God, if this is only a good sign!" + +"Farewell for the present," said Garrone to us; "I shall remain," and +he ran in with the father. Derossi's eyes were full of tears. I said to +him:-- + +"Are you crying for the little mason? He has spoken; he will recover." + +"I believe it," replied Derossi; "but I was not thinking of him. I was +thinking how good Garrone is, and what a beautiful soul he has." + + +COUNT CAVOUR. + + Wednesday, 29th. + + You are to make a description of the monument to Count Cavour. You + can do it. But who was Count Cavour? You cannot understand at + present. For the present this is all you know: he was for many + years the prime minister of Piemont. It was he who sent the + Piemontese army to the Crimea to raise once more, with the victory + of the Cernaia, our military glory, which had fallen with the + defeat at Novara; it was he who made one hundred and fifty thousand + Frenchmen descend from the Alps to chase the Austrians from + Lombardy; it was he who governed Italy in the most solemn period of + our revolution; who gave, during those years, the most potent + impulse to the holy enterprise of the unification of our + country,--he with his luminous mind, with his invincible + perseverance, with his more than human industry. Many generals have + passed terrible hours on the field of battle; but he passed more + terrible ones in his cabinet, when his enormous work might suffer + destruction at any moment, like a fragile edifice at the tremor of + an earthquake. Hours, nights of struggle and anguish did he pass, + sufficient to make him issue from it with reason distorted and + death in his heart. And it was this gigantic and stormy work which + shortened his life by twenty years. Nevertheless, devoured by the + fever which was to cast him into his grave, he yet contended + desperately with the malady in order to accomplish something for + his country. "It is strange," he said sadly on his death-bed, "I no + longer know how to read; I can no longer read." + + While they were bleeding him, and the fever was increasing, he was + thinking of his country, and he said imperiously: "Cure me; my mind + is clouding over; I have need of all my faculties to manage + important affairs." When he was already reduced to extremities, and + the whole city was in a tumult, and the king stood at his bedside, + he said anxiously, "I have many things to say to you, Sire, many + things to show you; but I am ill; I cannot, I cannot;" and he was + in despair. + + And his feverish thoughts hovered ever round the State, round the + new Italian provinces which had been united with us, round the many + things which still remained to be done. When delirium seized him, + "Educate the children!" he exclaimed, between his gasps for + breath,--"educate the children and the young people--govern with + liberty!" + + His delirium increased; death hovered over him, and with burning + words he invoked General Garibaldi, with whom he had had + disagreements, and Venice and Rome, which were not yet free: he had + vast visions of the future of Italy and of Europe; he dreamed of a + foreign invasion; he inquired where the corps of the army were, and + the generals; he still trembled for us, for his people. His great + sorrow was not, you understand, that he felt that his life was + going, but to see himself fleeing his country, which still had need + of him, and for which he had, in a few years, worn out the + measureless forces of his miraculous organism. He died with the + battle-cry in his throat, and his death was as great as his life. + Now reflect a little, Enrico, what sort of a thing is our labor, + which nevertheless so weighs us down; what are our griefs, our + death itself, in the face of the toils, the terrible anxieties, the + tremendous agonies of these men upon whose hearts rests a world! + Think of this, my son, when you pass before that marble image, and + say to it, "Glory!" in your heart. + + THY FATHER. + + + + +APRIL. + + +SPRING. + + Saturday, 1st. + +THE first of April! Only three months more! This has been one of the +most beautiful mornings of the year. I was happy in school because +Coretti told me to come day after to-morrow to see the king make his +entrance with his father, _who knows him_, and because my mother had +promised to take me the same day to visit the Infant Asylum in the Corso +Valdocco. I was pleased, too, because the little mason is better, and +because the teacher said to my father yesterday evening as he was +passing, "He is doing well; he is doing well." + +And then it was a beautiful spring morning. From the school windows we +could see the blue sky, the trees of the garden all covered with buds, +and the wide-open windows of the houses, with their boxes and vases +already growing green. The master did not laugh, because he never +laughs; but he was in a good humor, so that that perpendicular wrinkle +hardly ever appeared on his brow; and he explained a problem on the +blackboard, and jested. And it was plain that he felt a pleasure in +breathing the air of the gardens which entered through the open window, +redolent with the fresh odor of earth and leaves, which suggested +thoughts of country rambles. + +While he was explaining, we could hear in a neighboring street a +blacksmith hammering on his anvil, and in the house opposite, a woman +singing to lull her baby to sleep; far away, in the Cernaia barracks, +the trumpets were sounding. Every one appeared pleased, even Stardi. At +a certain moment the blacksmith began to hammer more vigorously, the +woman to sing more loudly. The master paused and lent an ear. Then he +said, slowly, as he gazed out of the window:-- + +"The smiling sky, a singing mother, an honest man at work, boys at +study,--these are beautiful things." + +When we emerged from the school, we saw that every one else was cheerful +also. All walked in a line, stamping loudly with their feet, and +humming, as though on the eve of a four days' vacation; the +schoolmistresses were playful; the one with the red feather tripped +along behind the children like a schoolgirl; the parents of the boys +were chatting together and smiling, and Crossi's mother, the +vegetable-vender, had so many bunches of violets in her basket, that +they filled the whole large hall with perfume. + +I have never felt such happiness as this morning on catching sight of my +mother, who was waiting for me in the street. And I said to her as I ran +to meet her:-- + +"Oh, I am happy! what is it that makes me so happy this morning?" And my +mother answered me with a smile that it was the beautiful season and a +good conscience. + + +KING UMBERTO. + + Monday, 3d. + +At ten o'clock precisely my father saw from the window Coretti, the +wood-seller, and his son waiting for me in the square, and said to me:-- + +"There they are, Enrico; go and see your king." + +I went like a flash. Both father and son were even more alert than +usual, and they never seemed to me to resemble each other so strongly as +this morning. The father wore on his jacket the medal for valor between +two commemorative medals, and his mustaches were curled and as pointed +as two pins. + +We at once set out for the railway station, where the king was to arrive +at half-past ten. Coretti, the father, smoked his pipe and rubbed his +hands. "Do you know," said he, "I have not seen him since the war of +'sixty-six? A trifle of fifteen years and six months. First, three years +in France, and then at Mondovi, and here, where I might have seen him, I +have never had the good luck of being in the city when he came. Such a +combination of circumstances!" + +He called the King "Umberto," like a comrade. Umberto commanded the 16th +division; Umberto was twenty-two years and so many days old; Umberto +mounted a horse thus and so. + +"Fifteen years!" he said vehemently, accelerating his pace. "I really +have a great desire to see him again. I left him a prince; I see him +once more, a king. And I, too, have changed. From a soldier I have +become a hawker of wood." And he laughed. + +His son asked him, "If he were to see you, would he remember you?" + +He began to laugh. + +"You are crazy!" he answered. "That's quite another thing. He, Umberto, +was one single man; we were as numerous as flies. And then, he never +looked at us one by one." + +We turned into the Corso Vittorio Emanuele; there were many people on +their way to the station. A company of Alpine soldiers passed with their +trumpets. Two armed policemen passed by on horseback at a gallop. The +day was serene and brilliant. + +"Yes!" exclaimed the elder Coretti, growing animated, "it is a real +pleasure to me to see him once more, the general of my division. Ah, how +quickly I have grown old! It seems as though it were only the other day +that I had my knapsack on my shoulders and my gun in my hands, at that +affair of the 24th of June, when we were on the point of coming to +blows. Umberto was going to and fro with his officers, while the cannon +were thundering in the distance; and every one was gazing at him and +saying, 'May there not be a bullet for him also!' I was a thousand miles +from thinking that I should soon find myself so near him, in front of +the lances of the Austrian uhlans; actually, only four paces from each +other, boys. That was a fine day; the sky was like a mirror; but so hot! +Let us see if we can get in." + +We had arrived at the station; there was a great crowd,--carriages, +policemen, carabineers, societies with banners. A regimental band was +playing. The elder Coretti attempted to enter the portico, but he was +stopped. Then it occurred to him to force his way into the front row of +the crowd which formed an opening at the entrance; and making way with +his elbow, he succeeded in thrusting us forward also. But the +undulating throng flung us hither and thither a little. The wood-seller +got his eye upon the first pillar of the portico, where the police did +not allow any one to stand; "Come with me," he said suddenly, dragging +us by the hand; and he crossed the empty space in two bounds, and went +and planted himself there, with his back against the wall. + +A police brigadier instantly hurried up and said to him, "You can't +stand here." + +"I belong to the fourth battalion of forty-nine," replied Coretti, +touching his medal. + +The brigadier glanced at it, and said, "Remain." + +"Didn't I say so!" exclaimed Coretti triumphantly; "it's a magic word, +that fourth of the forty-ninth! Haven't I the right to see my general +with some little comfort,--I, who was in that squadron? I saw him close +at hand then; it seems right that I should see him close at hand now. +And I say general! He was my battalion commander for a good half-hour; +for at such moments he commanded the battalion himself, while it was in +the heart of things, and not Major Ubrich, by Heavens!" + +In the meantime, in the reception-room and outside, a great mixture of +gentlemen and officers was visible, and in front of the door, the +carriages, with the lackeys dressed in red, were drawn up in a line. + +Coretti asked his father whether Prince Umberto had his sword in his +hand when he was with the regiment. + +"He would certainly have had his sword in his hand," the latter replied, +"to ward off a blow from a lance, which might strike him as well as +another. Ah! those unchained demons! They came down on us like the wrath +of God; they descended on us. They swept between the groups, the +squadrons, the cannon, as though tossed by a hurricane, crushing down +everything. There was a whirl of light cavalry of Alessandria, of +lancers of Foggia, of infantry, of sharpshooters, a pandemonium in which +nothing could any longer be understood. I heard the shout, 'Your +Highness! your Highness!' I saw the lowered lances approaching; we +discharged our guns; a cloud of smoke hid everything. Then the smoke +cleared away. The ground was covered with horses and uhlans, wounded and +dead. I turned round, and beheld in our midst Umberto, on horseback, +gazing tranquilly about, with the air of demanding, 'Have any of my lads +received a scratch?' And we shouted to him, 'Hurrah!' right in his face, +like madmen. Heavens, what a moment that was! Here's the train coming!" + +The band struck up; the officers hastened forward; the crowd elevated +themselves on tiptoe. + +"Eh, he won't come out in a hurry," said a policeman; "they are +presenting him with an address now." + +The elder Coretti was beside himself with impatience. + +"Ah! when I think of it," he said, "I always see him there. Of course, +there is cholera and there are earthquakes; and in them, too, he bears +himself bravely; but I always have him before my mind as I saw him then, +among us, with that tranquil face. I am sure that he too recalls the +fourth of the forty-ninth, even now that he is King; and that it would +give him pleasure to have for once, at a table together, all those whom +he saw about him at such moments. Now, he has generals, and great +gentlemen, and courtiers; then, there was no one but us poor soldiers. +If we could only exchange a few words alone! Our general of twenty-two; +our prince, who was intrusted to our bayonets! I have not seen him for +fifteen years. Our Umberto! that's what he is! Ah! that music stirs my +blood, on my word of honor." + +An outburst of shouts interrupted him; thousands of hats rose in the +air; four gentlemen dressed in black got into the first carriage. + +"'Tis he!" cried Coretti, and stood as though enchanted. + +Then he said softly, "Madonna mia, how gray he has grown!" + +We all three uncovered our heads; the carriage advanced slowly through +the crowd, who shouted and waved their hats. I looked at the elder +Coretti. He seemed to me another man; he seemed to have become taller, +graver, rather pale, and fastened bolt upright against the pillar. + +The carriage arrived in front of us, a pace distant from the pillar. +"Hurrah!" shouted many voices. + +"Hurrah!" shouted Coretti, after the others. + +The King glanced at his face, and his eye dwelt for a moment on his +three medals. + +Then Coretti lost his head, and roared, "The fourth battalion of the +forty-ninth!" + +The King, who had turned away, turned towards us again, and looking +Coretti straight in the eye, reached his hand out of the carriage. + +Coretti gave one leap forwards and clasped it. The carriage passed on; +the crowd broke in and separated us; we lost sight of the elder Coretti. +But it was only for a moment. We found him again directly, panting, with +wet eyes, calling for his son by name, and holding his hand on high. His +son flew towards him, and he said, "Here, little one, while my hand is +still warm!" and he passed his hand over the boy's face, saying, "This +is a caress from the King." + +And there he stood, as though in a dream, with his eyes fixed on the +distant carriage, smiling, with his pipe in his hand, in the centre of a +group of curious people, who were staring at him. "He's one of the +fourth battalion of the forty-ninth!" they said. "He is a soldier that +knows the King." "And the King recognized him." "And he offered him his +hand." "He gave the King a petition," said one, more loudly. + +"No," replied Coretti, whirling round abruptly; "I did not give him any +petition. There is something else that I would give him, if he were to +ask it of me." + +They all stared at him. + +And he said simply, "My blood." + + +THE INFANT ASYLUM. + + Tuesday, 4th. + +After breakfast yesterday my mother took me, as she had promised, to the +Infant Asylum in the Corso Valdocco, in order to recommend to the +directress a little sister of Precossi. I had never seen an asylum. How +much amused I was! There were two hundred of them, boy-babies and +girl-babies, and so small that the children in our lower primary schools +are men in comparison. + +We arrived just as they were entering the refectory in two files, where +there were two very long tables, with a great many round holes, and in +each hole a black bowl filled with rice and beans, and a tin spoon +beside it. On entering, some grew confused and remained on the floor +until the mistresses ran and picked them up. Many halted in front of a +bowl, thinking it was their proper place, and had already swallowed a +spoonful, when a mistress arrived and said, "Go on!" and then they +advanced three or four paces and got down another spoonful, and then +advanced again, until they reached their own places, after having +fraudulently disposed of half a portion. At last, by dint of pushing and +crying, "Make haste! make haste!" they were all got into order, and the +prayer was begun. But all those on the inner line, who had to turn their +backs on the bowls for the prayer, twisted their heads round so that +they could keep an eye on them, lest some one might meddle; and then +they said their prayer thus, with hands clasped and their eyes on the +ceiling, but with their hearts on their food. Then they set to eating. +Ah, what a charming sight it was! One ate with two spoons, another with +his hands; many picked up the beans one by one, and thrust them into +their pockets; others wrapped them tightly in their little aprons, and +pounded them to reduce them to a paste. There were even some who did not +eat, because they were watching the flies flying, and others coughed and +sprinkled a shower of rice all around them. It resembled a poultry-yard. +But it was charming. The two rows of babies formed a pretty sight, with +their hair all tied on the tops of their heads with red, green, and blue +ribbons. One teacher asked a row of eight children, "Where does rice +grow?" The whole eight opened their mouths wide, filled as they were +with the pottage, and replied in concert, in a sing-song, "It grows in +the water." Then the teacher gave the order, "Hands up!" and it was +pretty to see all those little arms fly up, which a few months ago were +all in swaddling-clothes, and all those little hands flourishing, which +looked like so many white and pink butterflies. + +Then they all went to recreation; but first they all took their little +baskets, which were hanging on the wall with their lunches in them. They +went out into the garden and scattered, drawing forth their provisions +as they did so,--bread, stewed plums, a tiny bit of cheese, a +hard-boiled egg, little apples, a handful of boiled vetches, or a wing +of chicken. In an instant the whole garden was strewn with crumbs, as +though they had been scattered from their feed by a flock of birds. They +ate in all the queerest ways,--like rabbits, like rats, like cats, +nibbling, licking, sucking. There was one child who held a bit of rye +bread hugged closely to his breast, and was rubbing it with a medlar, as +though he were polishing a sword. Some of the little ones crushed in +their fists small cheeses, which trickled between their fingers like +milk, and ran down inside their sleeves, and they were utterly +unconscious of it. They ran and chased each other with apples and rolls +in their teeth, like dogs. I saw three of them excavating a hard-boiled +egg with a straw, thinking to discover treasures, and they spilled half +of it on the ground, and then picked the crumbs up again one by one with +great patience, as though they had been pearls. And those who had +anything extraordinary were surrounded by eight or ten, who stood +staring at the baskets with bent heads, as though they were looking at +the moon in a well. There were twenty congregated round a mite of a +fellow who had a paper horn of sugar, and they were going through all +sorts of ceremonies with him for the privilege of dipping their bread in +it, and he accorded it to some, while to others, after many prayers, he +only granted his finger to suck. + + [Illustration: "THE BOYS HAD DAUBED THEIR HANDS WITH + RESIN."--Page 202.] + +In the meantime, my mother had come into the garden and was caressing +now one and now another. Many hung about her, and even on her back, +begging for a kiss, with faces upturned as though to a third story, and +with mouths that opened and shut as though asking for the breast. One +offered her the quarter of an orange which had been bitten, another a +small crust of bread; one little girl gave her a leaf; another showed +her, with all seriousness, the tip of her forefinger, a minute +examination of which revealed a microscopic swelling, which had been +caused by touching the flame of a candle on the preceding day. They +placed before her eyes, as great marvels, very tiny insects, which I +cannot understand their being able to see and catch, the halfs of corks, +shirt-buttons, and flowerets pulled from the vases. One child, with a +bandaged head, who was determined to be heard at any cost, stammered out +to her some story about a head-over-heels tumble, not one word of which +was intelligible; another insisted that my mother should bend down, and +then whispered in her ear, "My father makes brushes." + +And in the meantime a thousand accidents were happening here and there +which caused the teachers to hasten up. Children wept because they could +not untie a knot in their handkerchiefs; others disputed, with scratches +and shrieks, the halves of an apple; one child, who had fallen face +downward over a little bench which had been overturned, wept amid the +ruins, and could not rise. + +Before her departure my mother took three or four of them in her arms, +and they ran up from all quarters to be taken also, their faces smeared +with yolk of egg and orange juice; and one caught her hands; another her +finger, to look at her ring; another tugged at her watch chain; another +tried to seize her by the hair. + +"Take care," the teacher said to her; "they will tear your clothes all +to pieces." + +But my mother cared nothing for her dress, and she continued to kiss +them, and they pressed closer and closer to her: those who were nearest, +with their arms extended as though they were desirous of climbing; the +more distant endeavoring to make their way through the crowd, and all +screaming:-- + +"Good by! good by! good by!" + +At last she succeeded in escaping from the garden. And they all ran and +thrust their faces through the railings to see her pass, and to thrust +their arms through to greet her, offering her once more bits of bread, +bites of apple, cheese-rinds, and all screaming in concert:-- + +"Good by! good by! good by! Come back to-morrow! Come again!" + +As my mother made her escape, she passed her hand once more over those +hundreds of tiny outstretched hands as over a garland of living roses, +and finally arrived safely in the street, covered with crumbs and spots, +rumpled and dishevelled, with one hand full of flowers and her eyes +swelling with tears, and happy as though she had come from a festival. +And inside there was still audible a sound like the twittering of birds, +saying:-- + +"Good by! good by! Come again, _madama_!" + + +GYMNASTICS. + + Tuesday, 5th. + +As the weather continues extremely fine, they have made us pass from +chamber gymnastics to gymnastics with apparatus in the garden. + +Garrone was in the head-master's office yesterday when Nelli's mother, +that blond woman dressed in black, came in to get her son excused from +the new exercises. Every word cost her an effort; and as she spoke, she +held one hand on her son's head. + +"He is not able to do it," she said to the head-master. But Nelli showed +much grief at this exclusion from the apparatus, at having this added +humiliation imposed upon him. + +"You will see, mamma," he said, "that I shall do like the rest." + +His mother gazed at him in silence, with an air of pity and affection. +Then she remarked, in a hesitating way, "I fear lest his companions--" + +What she meant to say was, "lest they should make sport of him." But +Nelli replied:-- + +"They will not do anything to me--and then, there is Garrone. It is +sufficient for him to be present, to prevent their laughing." + +And then he was allowed to come. The teacher with the wound on his neck, +who was with Garibaldi, led us at once to the vertical bars, which are +very high, and we had to climb to the very top, and stand upright on the +transverse plank. Derossi and Coretti went up like monkeys; even little +Precossi mounted briskly, in spite of the fact that he was embarrassed +with that jacket which extends to his knees; and in order to make him +laugh while he was climbing, all the boys repeated to him his constant +expression, "Excuse me! excuse me!" Stardi puffed, turned as red as a +turkey-cock, and set his teeth until he looked like a mad dog; but he +would have reached the top at the expense of bursting, and he actually +did get there; and so did Nobis, who, when he reached the summit, +assumed the attitude of an emperor; but Votini slipped back twice, +notwithstanding his fine new suit with azure stripes, which had been +made expressly for gymnastics. + +In order to climb the more easily, all the boys had daubed their hands +with resin, which they call colophony, and as a matter of course it is +that trader of a Garoffi who provides every one with it, in a powdered +form, selling it at a soldo the paper hornful, and turning a pretty +penny. + +Then it was Garrone's turn, and up he went, chewing away at his bread as +though it were nothing out of the common; and I believe that he would +have been capable of carrying one of us up on his shoulders, for he is +as muscular and strong as a young bull. + +After Garrone came Nelli. No sooner did the boys see him grasp the bars +with those long, thin hands of his, than many of them began to laugh and +to sing; but Garrone crossed his big arms on his breast, and darted +round a glance which was so expressive, which so clearly said that he +did not mind dealing out half a dozen punches, even in the master's +presence, that they all ceased laughing on the instant. Nelli began to +climb. He tried hard, poor little fellow; his face grew purple, he +breathed with difficulty, and the perspiration poured from his brow. The +master said, "Come down!" But he would not. He strove and persisted. I +expected every moment to see him fall headlong, half dead. Poor Nelli! I +thought, what if I had been like him, and my mother had seen me! How she +would have suffered, poor mother! And as I thought of that I felt so +tenderly towards Nelli that I could have given, I know not what, to be +able, for the sake of having him climb those bars, to give him a push +from below without being seen. + +Meanwhile Garrone, Derossi, and Coretti were saying: "Up with you, +Nelli, up with you!" "Try--one effort more--courage!" And Nelli made one +more violent effort, uttering a groan as he did so, and found himself +within two spans of the plank. + +"Bravo!" shouted the others. "Courage--one dash more!" and behold Nelli +clinging to the plank. + +All clapped their hands. "Bravo!" said the master. "But that will do +now. Come down." + +But Nelli wished to ascend to the top like the rest, and after a little +exertion he succeeded in getting his elbows on the plank, then his +knees, then his feet; at last he stood upright, panting and smiling, and +gazed at us. + +We began to clap again, and then he looked into the street. I turned in +that direction, and through the plants which cover the iron railing of +the garden I caught sight of his mother, passing along the sidewalk +without daring to look. Nelli descended, and we all made much of him. He +was excited and rosy, his eyes sparkled, and he no longer seemed like +the same boy. + +Then, at the close of school, when his mother came to meet him, and +inquired with some anxiety, as she embraced him, "Well, my poor son, how +did it go? how did it go?" all his comrades replied, in concert, "He did +well--he climbed like the rest of us--he's strong, you know--he's +active--he does exactly like the others." + +And then the joy of that woman was a sight to see. She tried to thank +us, and could not; she shook hands with three or four, bestowed a caress +on Garrone, and carried off her son; and we watched them for a while, +walking in haste, and talking and gesticulating, both perfectly happy, +as though no one were looking at them. + + +MY FATHER'S TEACHER. + + Tuesday, 11th. + +What a beautiful excursion I took yesterday with my father! This is the +way it came about. + +Day before yesterday, at dinner, as my father was reading the newspaper, +he suddenly uttered an exclamation of astonishment. Then he said:-- + +"And I thought him dead twenty years ago! Do you know that my old first +elementary teacher, Vincenzo Crosetti, is eighty-four years old? I see +here that the minister has conferred on him the medal of merit for sixty +years of teaching. Six-ty ye-ars, you understand! And it is only two +years since he stopped teaching school. Poor Crosetti! He lives an +hour's journey from here by rail, at Condove, in the country of our old +gardener's wife, of the town of Chieri." And he added, "Enrico, we will +go and see him." + +And the whole evening he talked of nothing but him. The name of his +primary teacher recalled to his mind a thousand things which had +happened when he was a boy, his early companions, his dead mother. +"Crosetti!" he exclaimed. "He was forty when I was with him. I seem to +see him now. He was a small man, somewhat bent even then, with bright +eyes, and always cleanly shaved. Severe, but in a good way; for he loved +us like a father, and forgave us more than one offence. He had risen +from the condition of a peasant by dint of study and privations. He was +a fine man. My mother was attached to him, and my father treated him +like a friend. How comes it that he has gone to end his days at Condove, +near Turin? He certainly will not recognize me. Never mind; I shall +recognize him. Forty-four years have elapsed,--forty-four years, Enrico! +and we will go to see him to-morrow." + +And yesterday morning, at nine o'clock, we were at the Susa railway +station. I should have liked to have Garrone come too; but he could not, +because his mother is ill. + +It was a beautiful spring day. The train ran through green fields and +hedgerows in blossom, and the air we breathed was perfumed. My father +was delighted, and every little while he would put his arm round my neck +and talk to me like a friend, as he gazed out over the country. + +"Poor Crosetti!" he said; "he was the first man, after my father, to +love me and do me good. I have never forgotten certain of his good +counsels, and also certain sharp reprimands which caused me to return +home with a lump in my throat. His hands were large and stubby. I can +see him now, as he used to enter the schoolroom, place his cane in a +corner and hang his coat on the peg, always with the same gesture. And +every day he was in the same humor,--always conscientious, full of good +will, and attentive, as though each day he were teaching school for the +first time. I remember him as well as though I heard him now when he +called to me: 'Bottini! eh, Bottini! The fore and middle fingers on that +pen!' He must have changed greatly in these four and forty years." + +As soon as we reached Condove, we went in search of our old gardener's +wife of Chieri, who keeps a stall in an alley. We found her with her +boys: she made much of us and gave us news of her husband, who is soon +to return from Greece, where he has been working these three years; and +of her eldest daughter, who is in the Deaf-mute Institute in Turin. Then +she pointed out to us the street which led to the teacher's house,--for +every one knows him. + +We left the town, and turned into a steep lane flanked by blossoming +hedges. + +My father no longer talked, but appeared entirely absorbed in his +reminiscences; and every now and then he smiled, and then shook his +head. + +Suddenly he halted and said: "Here he is. I will wager that this is he." +Down the lane towards us a little old man with a white beard and a large +hat was descending, leaning on a cane. He dragged his feet along, and +his hands trembled. + +"It is he!" repeated my father, hastening his steps. + +When we were close to him, we stopped. The old man stopped also and +looked at my father. His face was still fresh colored, and his eyes were +clear and vivacious. + +"Are you," asked my father, raising his hat, "Vincenzo Crosetti, the +schoolmaster?" + +The old man raised his hat also, and replied: "I am," in a voice that +was somewhat tremulous, but full. + +"Well, then," said my father, taking one of his hands, "permit one of +your old scholars to shake your hand and to inquire how you are. I have +come from Turin to see you." + +The old man stared at him in amazement. Then he said: "You do me too +much honor. I do not know--When were you my scholar? Excuse me; your +name, if you please." + +My father mentioned his name, Alberto Bottini, and the year in which he +had attended school, and where, and he added: "It is natural that you +should not remember me. But I recollect you so perfectly!" + +The master bent his head and gazed at the ground in thought, and +muttered my father's name three or four times; the latter, meanwhile, +observed him with intent and smiling eyes. + +All at once the old man raised his face, with his eyes opened widely, +and said slowly: "Alberto Bottini? the son of Bottini, the engineer? the +one who lived in the Piazza della Consolata?" + +"The same," replied my father, extending his hands. + +"Then," said the old man, "permit me, my dear sir, permit me"; and +advancing, he embraced my father: his white head hardly reached the +latter's shoulder. My father pressed his cheek to the other's brow. + +"Have the goodness to come with me," said the teacher. And without +speaking further he turned about and took the road to his dwelling. + +In a few minutes we arrived at a garden plot in front of a tiny house +with two doors, round one of which there was a fragment of whitewashed +wall. + +The teacher opened the second and ushered us into a room. There were +four white walls: in one corner a cot bed with a blue and white checked +coverlet; in another, a small table with a little library; four chairs, +and one ancient geographical map nailed to the wall. A pleasant odor of +apples was perceptible. + +We seated ourselves, all three. My father and his teacher remained +silent for several minutes. + +"Bottini!" exclaimed the master at length, fixing his eyes on the brick +floor where the sunlight formed a checker-board. "Oh! I remember well! +Your mother was such a good woman! For a while, during your first year, +you sat on a bench to the left near the window. Let us see whether I do +not recall it. I can still see your curly head." Then he thought for a +while longer. "You were a lively lad, eh? Very. The second year you had +an attack of croup. I remember when they brought you back to school, +emaciated and wrapped up in a shawl. Forty years have elapsed since +then, have they not? You are very kind to remember your poor teacher. +And do you know, others of my old pupils have come hither in years gone +by to seek me out: there was a colonel, and there were some priests, and +several gentlemen." He asked my father what his profession was. Then he +said, "I am glad, heartily glad. I thank you. It is quite a while now +since I have seen any one. I very much fear that you will be the last, +my dear sir." + +"Don't say that," exclaimed my father. "You are well and still vigorous. +You must not say that." + +"Eh, no!" replied the master; "do you see this trembling?" and he showed +us his hands. "This is a bad sign. It seized on me three years ago, +while I was still teaching school. At first I paid no attention to it; I +thought it would pass off. But instead of that, it stayed and kept on +increasing. A day came when I could no longer write. Ah! that day on +which I, for the first time, made a blot on the copy-book of one of my +scholars was a stab in the heart for me, my dear sir. I did drag on for +a while longer; but I was at the end of my strength. After sixty years +of teaching I was forced to bid farewell to my school, to my scholars, +to work. And it was hard, you understand, hard. The last time that I +gave a lesson, all the scholars accompanied me home, and made much of +me; but I was sad; I understood that my life was finished. I had lost my +wife the year before, and my only son. I had only two peasant +grandchildren left. Now I am living on a pension of a few hundred lire. +I no longer do anything; it seems to me as though the days would never +come to an end. My only occupation, you see, is to turn over my old +schoolbooks, my scholastic journals, and a few volumes that have been +given to me. There they are," he said, indicating his little library; +"there are my reminiscences, my whole past; I have nothing else +remaining to me in the world." + +Then in a tone that was suddenly joyous, "I want to give you a surprise, +my dear Signor Bottini." + +He rose, and approaching his desk, he opened a long casket which +contained numerous little parcels, all tied up with a slender cord, and +on each was written a date in four figures. + +After a little search, he opened one, turned over several papers, drew +forth a yellowed sheet, and handed it to my father. It was some of his +school work of forty years before. + +At the top was written, _Alberto Bottini, Dictation, April 3, 1838_. My +father instantly recognized his own large, schoolboy hand, and began to +read it with a smile. But all at once his eyes grew moist. I rose and +inquired the cause. + +He threw one arm around my body, and pressing me to his side, he said: +"Look at this sheet of paper. Do you see? These are the corrections made +by my poor mother. She always strengthened my _l_'s and my _t_'s. And +the last lines are entirely hers. She had learned to imitate my +characters; and when I was tired and sleepy, she finished my work for +me. My sainted mother!" + +And he kissed the page. + +"See here," said the teacher, showing him the other packages; "these are +my reminiscences. Each year I laid aside one piece of work of each of my +pupils; and they are all here, dated and arranged in order. Every time +that I open them thus, and read a line here and there, a thousand things +recur to my mind, and I seem to be living once more in the days that are +past. How many of them have passed, my dear sir! I close my eyes, and I +see behind me face after face, class after class, hundreds and hundreds +of boys, and who knows how many of them are already dead! Many of them I +remember well. I recall distinctly the best and the worst: those who +gave me the greatest pleasure, and those who caused me to pass sorrowful +moments; for I have had serpents, too, among that vast number! But now, +you understand, it is as though I were already in the other world, and I +love them all equally." + +He sat down again, and took one of my hands in his. + +"And tell me," my father said, with a smile, "do you not recall any +roguish tricks?" + +"Of yours, sir?" replied the old man, also with a smile. "No; not just +at this moment. But that does not in the least mean that you never +played any. However, you had good judgment; you were serious for your +age. I remember the great affection of your mother for you. But it is +very kind and polite of you to have come to seek me out. How could you +leave your occupations, to come and see a poor old schoolmaster?" + +"Listen, Signor Crosetti," responded my father with vivacity. "I +recollect the first time that my poor mother accompanied me to school. +It was to be her first parting from me for two hours; of letting me out +of the house alone, in other hands than my father's; in the hands of a +stranger, in short. To this good creature my entrance into school was +like my entrance into the world, the first of a long series of necessary +and painful separations; it was society which was tearing her son from +her for the first time, never again to return him to her intact. She was +much affected; so was I. I bade her farewell with a trembling voice, and +then, as she went away, I saluted her once more through the glass in the +door, with my eyes full of tears. And just at that point you made a +gesture with one hand, laying the other on your breast, as though to +say, 'Trust me, signora.' Well, the gesture, the glance, from which I +perceived that you had comprehended all the sentiments, all the thoughts +of my mother; that look which seemed to say, 'Courage!' that gesture +which was an honest promise of protection, of affection, of indulgence, +I have never forgotten; it has remained forever engraved on my heart; +and it is that memory which induced me to set out from Turin. And here I +am, after the lapse of four and forty years, for the purpose of saying +to you, 'Thanks, dear teacher.'" + +The master did not reply; he stroked my hair with his hand, and his hand +trembled, and glided from my hair to my forehead, from my forehead to my +shoulder. + +In the meanwhile, my father was surveying those bare walls, that +wretched bed, the morsel of bread and the little phial of oil which lay +on the window-sill, and he seemed desirous of saying, "Poor master! +after sixty years of teaching, is this all thy recompense?" + +But the good old man was content, and began once more to talk with +vivacity of our family, of the other teachers of that day, and of my +father's schoolmates; some of them he remembered, and some of them he +did not; and each told the other news of this one or of that one. When +my father interrupted the conversation, to beg the old man to come down +into the town and lunch with us, he replied effusively, "I thank you, I +thank you," but he seemed undecided. My father took him by both hands, +and besought him afresh. "But how shall I manage to eat," said the +master, "with these poor hands which shake in this way? It is a penance +for others also." + +"We will help you, master," said my father. And then he accepted, as he +shook his head and smiled. + +"This is a beautiful day," he said, as he closed the outer door, "a +beautiful day, dear Signor Bottini! I assure you that I shall remember +it as long as I live." + +My father gave one arm to the master, and the latter took me by the +hand, and we descended the lane. We met two little barefooted girls +leading some cows, and a boy who passed us on a run, with a huge load of +straw on his shoulders. The master told us that they were scholars of +the second grade; that in the morning they led the cattle to pasture, +and worked in the fields barefoot; and in the afternoon they put on +their shoes and went to school. It was nearly mid-day. We encountered no +one else. In a few minutes we reached the inn, seated ourselves at a +large table, with the master between us, and began our breakfast at +once. The inn was as silent as a convent. The master was very merry, and +his excitement augmented his palsy: he could hardly eat. But my father +cut up his meat, broke his bread, and put salt on his plate. In order to +drink, he was obliged to hold the glass with both hands, and even then +he struck his teeth. But he talked constantly, and with ardor, of the +reading-books of his young days; of the notaries of the present day; of +the commendations bestowed on him by his superiors; of the regulations +of late years: and all with that serene countenance, a trifle redder +than at first, and with that gay voice of his, and that laugh which was +almost the laugh of a young man. And my father gazed and gazed at him, +with that same expression with which I sometimes catch him gazing at me, +at home, when he is thinking and smiling to himself, with his face +turned aside. + +The teacher allowed some wine to trickle down on his breast; my father +rose, and wiped it off with his napkin. "No, sir; I cannot permit this," +the old man said, and smiled. He said some words in Latin. And, finally, +he raised his glass, which wavered about in his hand, and said very +gravely, "To your health, my dear engineer, to that of your children, to +the memory of your good mother!" + +"To yours, my good master!" replied my father, pressing his hand. And at +the end of the room stood the innkeeper and several others, watching us, +and smiling as though they were pleased at this attention which was +being shown to the teacher from their parts. + +At a little after two o'clock we came out, and the master wanted to +escort us to the station. My father gave him his arm once more, and he +again took me by the hand: I carried his cane for him. The people +paused to look on, for they all knew him: some saluted him. At one point +in the street we heard, through an open window, many boys' voices, +reading together, and spelling. The old man halted, and seemed to be +saddened by it. + +"This, my dear Signor Bottini," he said, "is what pains me. To hear the +voices of boys in school, and not be there any more; to think that +another man is there. I have heard that music for sixty years, and I +have grown to love it. Now I am deprived of my family. I have no sons." + +"No, master," my father said to him, starting on again; "you still have +many sons, scattered about the world, who remember you, as I have always +remembered you." + +"No, no," replied the master sadly; "I have no longer a school; I have +no longer any sons. And without sons, I shall not live much longer. My +hour will soon strike." + +"Do not say that, master; do not think it," said my father. "You have +done so much good in every way! You have put your life to such a noble +use!" + +The aged master inclined his hoary head for an instant on my father's +shoulder, and pressed my hand. + +We entered the station. The train was on the point of starting. + +"Farewell, master!" said my father, kissing him on both cheeks. + +"Farewell! thanks! farewell!" replied the master, taking one of my +father's hands in his two trembling hands, and pressing it to his heart. + +Then I kissed him and felt that his face was bathed in tears. My father +pushed me into the railway carriage, and at the moment of starting he +quickly removed the coarse cane from the schoolmaster's hand, and in its +place he put his own handsome one, with a silver handle and his +initials, saying, "Keep it in memory of me." + +The old man tried to return it and to recover his own; but my father was +already inside and had closed the door. + +"Farewell, my kind master!" + +"Farewell, my son!" responded the master as the train moved off; "and +may God bless you for the consolation which you have afforded to a poor +old man!" + +"Until we meet again!" cried my father, in a voice full of emotion. + +But the master shook his head, as much as to say, "We shall never see +each other more." + +"Yes, yes," repeated my father, "until we meet again!" + +And the other replied by raising his trembling hand to heaven, "Up +there!" + +And thus he disappeared from our sight, with his hand on high. + + +CONVALESCENCE. + + Thursday, 20th. + +Who could have told me, when I returned from that delightful excursion +with my father, that for ten days I should not see the country or the +sky again? I have been very ill--in danger of my life. I have heard my +mother sobbing--I have seen my father very, very pale, gazing intently +at me; and my sister Silvia and my brother talking in a low voice; and +the doctor, with his spectacles, who was there every moment, and who +said things to me that I did not understand. In truth, I have been on +the verge of saying a final farewell to every one. Ah, my poor mother! I +passed three or four days at least, of which I recollect almost nothing, +as though I had been in a dark and perplexing dream. I thought I beheld +at my bedside my kind schoolmistress of the upper primary, who was +trying to stifle her cough in her handkerchief in order not to disturb +me. In the same manner I confusedly recall my master, who bent over to +kiss me, and who pricked my face a little with his beard; and I saw, as +in a mist, the red head of Crossi, the golden curls of Derossi, the +Calabrian clad in black, all pass by, and Garrone, who brought me a +mandarin orange with its leaves, and ran away in haste because his +mother is ill. + +Then I awoke as from a very long dream, and understood that I was better +from seeing my father and mother smiling, and hearing Silvia singing +softly. Oh, what a sad dream it was! Then I began to improve every day. +The little mason came and made me laugh once more for the first time, +with his hare's face; and how well he does it, now that his face is +somewhat elongated through illness, poor fellow! And Coretti came; and +Garoffi came to present me with two tickets in his new lottery of "a +penknife with five surprises," which he purchased of a second-hand +dealer in the Via Bertola. Then, yesterday, while I was asleep, Precossi +came and laid his cheek on my hand without waking me; and as he came +from his father's workshop, with his face covered with coal dust, he +left a black print on my sleeve, the sight of which caused me great +pleasure when I awoke. + +How green the trees have become in these few days! And how I envy the +boys whom I see running to school with their books when my father +carries me to the window! But I shall go back there soon myself. I am so +impatient to see all the boys once more, and my seat, the garden, the +streets; to know all that has taken place during the interval; to apply +myself to my books again, and to my copy-books, which I seem not to have +seen for a year! How pale and thin my poor mother has grown! Poor +father! how weary he looks! And my kind companions who came to see me +and walked on tiptoe and kissed my brow! It makes me sad, even now, to +think that one day we must part. Perhaps I shall continue my studies +with Derossi and with some others; but how about all the rest? When the +fourth grade is once finished, then good by! we shall never see each +other again: I shall never see them again at my bedside when I am +ill,--Garrone, Precossi, Coretti, who are such fine boys and kind and +dear comrades,--never more! + + +FRIENDS AMONG THE WORKINGMEN. + + Thursday, 20th. + + Why "never more," Enrico? That will depend on yourself. When you + have finished the fourth grade, you will go to the Gymnasium, and + they will become workingmen; but you will remain in the same city + for many years, perhaps. Why, then, will you never meet again? When + you are in the University or the Lyceum, you will seek them out in + their shops or their workrooms, and it will be a great pleasure for + you to meet the companions of your youth once more, as men at work. + + I should like to see you neglecting to look up Coretti or Precossi, + wherever they may be! And you will go to them, and you will pass + hours in their company, and you will see, when you come to study + life and the world, how many things you can learn from them, which + no one else is capable of teaching you, both about their arts and + their society and your own country. And have a care; for if you do + not preserve these friendships, it will be extremely difficult for + you to acquire other similar ones in the future,--friendships, I + mean to say, outside of the class to which you belong; and thus you + will live in one class only; and the man who associates with but + one social class is like the student who reads but one book. + + Let it be your firm resolve, then, from this day forth, that you + will keep these good friends even after you shall be separated, and + from this time forth, cultivate precisely these by preference + because they are the sons of workingmen. You see, men of the upper + classes are the officers, and men of the lower classes are the + soldiers of toil; and thus in society as in the army, not only is + the soldier no less noble than the officer, since nobility consists + in work and not in wages, in valor and not in rank; but if there is + also a superiority of merit, it is on the side of the soldier, of + the workmen, who draw the lesser profit from the work. Therefore + love and respect above all others, among your companions, the sons + of the soldiers of labor; honor in them the toil and the sacrifices + of their parents; disregard the differences of fortune and of + class, upon which the base alone regulate their sentiments and + courtesy; reflect that from the veins of laborers in the shops and + in the country issued nearly all that blessed blood which has + redeemed your country; love Garrone, love Coretti, love Precossi, + love your little mason, who, in their little workingmen's breasts, + possess the hearts of princes; and take an oath to yourself that no + change of fortune shall ever eradicate these friendships of + childhood from your soul. Swear to yourself that forty years hence, + if, while passing through a railway station, you recognize your old + Garrone in the garments of an engineer, with a black face,--ah! I + cannot think what to tell you to swear. I am sure that you will + jump upon the engine and fling your arms round his neck, though you + were even a senator of the kingdom. + + THY FATHER. + + +GARRONE'S MOTHER. + + Saturday, 29th. + +On my return to school, the first thing I heard was some bad news. +Garrone had not been there for several days because his mother was +seriously ill. She died on Saturday. Yesterday morning, as soon as we +came into school, the teacher said to us:-- + +"The greatest misfortune that can happen to a boy has happened to poor +Garrone: his mother is dead. He will return to school to-morrow. I +beseech you now, boys, respect the terrible sorrow that is now rending +his soul. When he enters, greet him with affection, and gravely; let no +one jest, let no one laugh at him, I beg of you." + +And this morning poor Garrone came in, a little later than the rest; I +felt a blow at my heart at the sight of him. His face was haggard, his +eyes were red, and he was unsteady on his feet; it seemed as though he +had been ill for a month. I hardly recognized him; he was dressed all in +black; he aroused our pity. No one even breathed; all gazed at him. No +sooner had he entered than at the first sight of that schoolroom whither +his mother had come to get him nearly every day, of that bench over +which she had bent on so many examination days to give him a last bit of +advice, and where he had so many times thought of her, in his impatience +to run out and meet her, he burst into a desperate fit of weeping. The +teacher drew him aside to his own place, and pressed him to his breast, +and said to him:-- + +"Weep, weep, my poor boy; but take courage. Your mother is no longer +here; but she sees you, she still loves you, she still lives by your +side, and one day you will behold her once again, for you have a good +and upright soul like her own. Take courage!" + +Having said this, he accompanied him to the bench near me. I dared not +look at him. He drew out his copy-books and his books, which he had not +opened for many days, and as he opened the reading-book at a place where +there was a cut representing a mother leading her son by the hand, he +burst out crying again, and laid his head on his arm. The master made us +a sign to leave him thus, and began the lesson. I should have liked to +say something to him, but I did not know what. I laid one hand on his +arm, and whispered in his ear:-- + +"Don't cry, Garrone." + +He made no reply, and without raising his head from the bench he laid +his hand on mine and kept it there a while. At the close of school, no +one addressed him; all the boys hovered round him respectfully, and in +silence. I saw my mother waiting for me, and ran to embrace her; but she +repulsed me, and gazed at Garrone. For the moment I could not understand +why; but then I perceived that Garrone was standing apart by himself and +gazing at me; and he was gazing at me with a look of indescribable +sadness, which seemed to say: "You are embracing your mother, and I +shall never embrace mine again! You have still a mother, and mine is +dead!" And then I understood why my mother had thrust me back, and I +went out without taking her hand. + + +GIUSEPPE MAZZINI. + + Saturday, 29th. + +This morning, also, Garrone came to school with a pale face and his eyes +swollen with weeping, and he hardly cast a glance at the little gifts +which we had placed on his desk to console him. But the teacher had +brought a page from a book to read to him in order to encourage him. He +first informed us that we are to go to-morrow at one o'clock to the +town-hall to witness the award of the medal for civic valor to a boy who +has saved a little child from the Po, and that on Monday he will dictate +the description of the festival to us instead of the monthly story. Then +turning to Garrone, who was standing with drooping head, he said to +him:-- + +"Make an effort, Garrone, and write down what I dictate to you as well +as the rest." + +We all took our pens, and the teacher dictated. + +"Giuseppe Mazzini, born in Genoa in 1805, died in Pisa in 1872, a grand, +patriotic soul, the mind of a great writer, the first inspirer and +apostle of the Italian Revolution; who, out of love for his country, +lived for forty years poor, exiled, persecuted, a fugitive heroically +steadfast in his principles and in his resolutions. Giuseppe Mazzini, +who adored his mother, and who derived from her all that there was +noblest and purest in her strong and gentle soul, wrote as follows to a +faithful friend of his, to console him in the greatest of misfortunes. +These are almost his exact words:-- + +"'My friend, thou wilt never more behold thy mother on this earth. That +is the terrible truth. I do not attempt to see thee, because thine is +one of those solemn and sacred sorrows which each must suffer and +conquer for himself. Dost thou understand what I mean to convey by these +words, _It is necessary to conquer sorrow_--to conquer the least sacred, +the least purifying part of sorrow, that which, instead of rendering the +soul better, weakens and debases it? But the other part of sorrow, the +noble part--that which enlarges and elevates the soul--that must remain +with thee and never leave thee more. Nothing here below can take the +place of a good mother. In the griefs, in the consolations which life +may still bring to thee, thou wilt never forget her. But thou must +recall her, love her, mourn her death, in a manner which is worthy of +her. O my friend, hearken to me! Death exists not; it is nothing. It +cannot even be understood. Life is life, and it follows the law of +life--progress. Yesterday thou hadst a mother on earth; to-day thou hast +an angel elsewhere. All that is good will survive the life of earth with +increased power. Hence, also, the love of thy mother. She loves thee now +more than ever. And thou art responsible for thy actions to her more, +even, than before. It depends upon thee, upon thy actions, to meet her +once more, to see her in another existence. Thou must, therefore, out of +love and reverence for thy mother, grow better and cause her joy for +thee. Henceforth thou must say to thyself at every act of thine, "Would +my mother approve this?" Her transformation has placed a guardian angel +in the world for thee, to whom thou must refer in all thy affairs, in +everything that pertains to thee. Be strong and brave; fight against +desperate and vulgar grief; have the tranquillity of great suffering in +great souls; and that it is what she would have.'" + +"Garrone," added the teacher, "_be strong and tranquil, for that is what +she would have_. Do you understand?" + +Garrone nodded assent, while great and fast-flowing tears streamed over +his hands, his copy-book, and his desk. + + +CIVIC VALOR. + +(_Monthly Story._) + +At one o'clock we went with our schoolmaster to the front of the +town-hall, to see the medal for civic valor bestowed on the lad who +saved one of his comrades from the Po. + +On the front terrace waved a huge tricolored flag. + +We entered the courtyard of the palace. + +It was already full of people. At the further end of it there was +visible a table with a red cover, and papers on it, and behind it a row +of gilded chairs for the mayor and the council; the ushers of the +municipality were there, with their under-waistcoats of sky-blue and +their white stockings. To the right of the courtyard a detachment of +policemen, who had a great many medals, was drawn up in line; and beside +them a detachment of custom-house officers; on the other side were the +firemen in festive array; and numerous soldiers not in line, who had +come to look on,--cavalrymen, sharpshooters, artillery-men. Then all +around were gentlemen, country people, and some officers and women and +boys who had assembled. We crowded into a corner where many scholars +from other buildings were already collected with their teachers; and +near us was a group of boys belonging to the common people, between ten +and eighteen years of age, who were talking and laughing loudly; and we +made out that they were all from Borgo Po, comrades or acquaintances of +the boy who was to receive the medal. Above, all the windows were +thronged with the employees of the city government; the balcony of the +library was also filled with people, who pressed against the balustrade; +and in the one on the opposite side, which is over the entrance gate, +stood a crowd of girls from the public schools, and many _Daughters of +military men_, with their pretty blue veils. It looked like a theatre. +All were talking merrily, glancing every now and then at the red table, +to see whether any one had made his appearance. A band of music was +playing softly at the extremity of the portico. The sun beat down on the +lofty walls. It was beautiful. + +All at once every one began to clap their hands, from the courtyard, +from the balconies, from the windows. + +I raised myself on tiptoe to look. + +The crowd which stood behind the red table had parted, and a man and +woman had come forward. The man was leading a boy by the hand. + +This was the lad who had saved his comrade. + +The man was his father, a mason, dressed in his best. The woman, his +mother, small and blond, had on a black gown. The boy, also small and +blond, had on a gray jacket. + +At the sight of all those people, and at the sound of that thunder of +applause, all three stood still, not daring to look nor to move. A +municipal usher pushed them along to the side of the table on the +right. + +All remained quiet for a moment, and then once more the applause broke +out on all sides. The boy glanced up at the windows, and then at the +balcony with the _Daughters of military men_; he held his cap in his +hand, and did not seem to understand very thoroughly where he was. It +struck me that he looked a little like Coretti, in the face; but he was +redder. His father and mother kept their eyes fixed on the table. + +In the meantime, all the boys from Borgo Po who were near us were making +motions to their comrade, to attract his attention, and hailing him in a +low tone: _Pin! Pin! Pinot!_ By dint of calling they made themselves +heard. The boy glanced at them, and hid his smile behind his cap. + +At a certain moment the guards put themselves in the attitude of +_attention_. + +The mayor entered, accompanied by numerous gentlemen. + +The mayor, all white, with a big tricolored scarf, placed himself beside +the table, standing; all the others took their places behind and beside +him. + +The band ceased playing; the mayor made a sign, and every one kept +quiet. + +He began to speak. I did not understand the first words perfectly; but I +gathered that he was telling the story of the boy's feat. Then he raised +his voice, and it rang out so clear and sonorous through the whole +court, that I did not lose another word: "When he saw, from the shore, +his comrade struggling in the river, already overcome with the fear of +death, he tore the clothes from his back, and hastened to his +assistance, without hesitating an instant. They shouted to him, 'You +will be drowned!'--he made no reply; they caught hold of him--he freed +himself; they called him by name--he was already in the water. The +river was swollen; the risk terrible, even for a man. But he flung +himself to meet death with all the strength of his little body and of +his great heart; he reached the unfortunate fellow and seized him just +in time, when he was already under water, and dragged him to the +surface; he fought furiously with the waves, which strove to overwhelm +him, with his companion who tried to cling to him; and several times he +disappeared beneath the water, and rose again with a desperate effort; +obstinate, invincible in his purpose, not like a boy who was trying to +save another boy, but like a man, like a father who is struggling to +save his son, who is his hope and his life. In short, God did not permit +so generous a prowess to be displayed in vain. The child swimmer tore +the victim from the gigantic river, and brought him to land, and with +the assistance of others, rendered him his first succor; after which he +returned home quietly and alone, and ingenuously narrated his deed. + +"Gentlemen, beautiful, and worthy of veneration is heroism in a man! But +in a child, in whom there can be no prompting of ambition or of profit +whatever; in a child, who must have all the more ardor in proportion as +he has less strength; in a child, from whom we require nothing, who is +bound to nothing, who already appears to us so noble and lovable, not +when he acts, but when he merely understands, and is grateful for the +sacrifices of others;--in a child, heroism is divine! I will say nothing +more, gentlemen. I do not care to deck, with superfluous praises, such +simple grandeur. Here before you stands the noble and valorous rescuer. +Soldier, greet him as a brother; mothers, bless him like a son; +children, remember his name, engrave on your minds his visage, that it +may nevermore be erased from your memories and from your hearts. +Approach, my boy. In the name of the king of Italy, I give you the medal +for civic valor." + +An extremely loud hurrah, uttered at the same moment by many voices, +made the palace ring. + +The mayor took the medal from the table, and fastened it on the boy's +breast. Then he embraced and kissed him. The mother placed one hand over +her eyes; the father held his chin on his breast. + +The mayor shook hands with both; and taking the decree of decoration, +which was bound with a ribbon, he handed it to the woman. + +Then he turned to the boy again, and said: "May the memory of this day, +which is such a glorious one for you, such a happy one for your father +and mother, keep you all your life in the path of virtue and honor! +Farewell!" + +The mayor withdrew, the band struck up, and everything seemed to be at +an end, when the detachment of firemen opened, and a lad of eight or +nine years, pushed forwards by a woman who instantly concealed herself, +rushed towards the boy with the decoration, and flung himself in his +arms. + +Another outburst of hurrahs and applause made the courtyard echo; every +one had instantly understood that this was the boy who had been saved +from the Po, and who had come to thank his rescuer. After kissing him, +he clung to one arm, in order to accompany him out. These two, with the +father and mother following behind, took their way towards the door, +making a path with difficulty among the people who formed in line to let +them pass,--policemen, boys, soldiers, women, all mingled together in +confusion. All pressed forwards and raised on tiptoe to see the boy. +Those who stood near him as he passed, touched his hand. When he passed +before the schoolboys, they all waved their caps in the air. Those from +Borgo Po made a great uproar, pulling him by the arms and by his jacket +and shouting. "_Pin! hurrah for Pin! bravo, Pinot!_" I saw him pass very +close to me. His face was all aflame and happy; his medal had a red, +white, and green ribbon. His mother was crying and smiling; his father +was twirling his mustache with one hand, which trembled violently, as +though he had a fever. And from the windows and the balconies the people +continued to lean out and applaud. All at once, when they were on the +point of entering the portico, there descended from the balcony of the +_Daughters of military men_ a veritable shower of pansies, of bunches of +violets and daisies, which fell upon the head of the boy, and of his +father and mother, and scattered over the ground. Many people stooped to +pick them up and hand them to the mother. And the band at the further +end of the courtyard played, very, very softly, a most entrancing air, +which seemed like a song by a great many silver voices fading slowly +into the distance on the banks of a river. + + + + +MAY. + + +CHILDREN WITH THE RICKETS. + + Friday, 5th. + +TO-DAY I took a vacation, because I was not well, and my mother took me +to the Institution for Children with the Rickets, whither she went to +recommend a child belonging to our porter; but she did not allow me to +go into the school. + + You did not understand, Enrico, why I did not permit you to enter? + In order not to place before the eyes of those unfortunates, there + in the midst of the school, as though on exhibition, a healthy, + robust boy: they have already but too many opportunities for making + melancholy comparisons. What a sad thing! Tears rushed from my + heart when I entered. There were sixty of them, boys and girls. + Poor tortured bones! Poor hands, poor little shrivelled and + distorted feet! Poor little deformed bodies! I instantly perceived + many charming faces, with eyes full of intelligence and affection. + There was one little child's face with a pointed nose and a sharp + chin, which seemed to belong to an old woman; but it wore a smile + of celestial sweetness. Some, viewed from the front, are handsome, + and appear to be without defects: but when they turn round--they + cast a weight upon your soul. The doctor was there, visiting them. + He set them upright on their benches and pulled up their little + garments, to feel their little swollen stomachs and enlarged + joints; but they felt not the least shame, poor creatures! it was + evident that they were children who were used to being undressed, + examined, turned round on all sides. And to think that they are now + in the best stage of their malady, when they hardly suffer at all + any more! But who can say what they suffered during the first + stage, while their bodies were undergoing the process of + deformation, when with the increase of their infirmity, they saw + affection decrease around them, poor children! saw themselves left + alone for hour after hour in a corner of the room or the courtyard, + badly nourished, and at times scoffed at, or tormented for months + by bandages and by useless orthopedic apparatus! Now, however, + thanks to care and good food and gymnastic exercises, many are + improving. Their schoolmistress makes them practise gymnastics. It + was a pitiful sight to see them, at a certain command, extend all + those bandaged legs under the benches, squeezed as they were + between splints, knotty and deformed; legs which should have been + covered with kisses! Some could not rise from the bench, and + remained there, with their heads resting on their arms, caressing + their crutches with their hands; others, on making the thrust with + their arms, felt their breath fail them, and fell back on their + seats, all pale; but they smiled to conceal their panting. Ah, + Enrico! you other children do not prize your good health, and it + seems to you so small a thing to be well! I thought of the strong + and thriving lads, whom their mothers carry about in triumph, proud + of their beauty; and I could have clasped all those poor little + heads, I could have pressed them to my heart, in despair; I could + have said, had I been alone, "I will never stir from here again; I + wish to consecrate my life to you, to serve you, to be a mother to + you all, to my last day." And in the meantime, they sang; sang in + peculiar, thin, sweet, sad voices, which penetrated the soul; and + when their teacher praised them, they looked happy; and as she + passed among the benches, they kissed her hands and wrists; for + they are very grateful for what is done for them, and very + affectionate. And these little angels have good minds, and study + well, the teacher told me. The teacher is young and gentle, with a + face full of kindness, a certain expression of sadness, like a + reflection of the misfortunes which she caresses and comforts. The + dear girl! Among all the human creatures who earn their livelihood + by toil, there is not one who earns it more holily than thou, my + daughter! + + THY MOTHER. + + +SACRIFICE. + + Tuesday, 9th. + +My mother is good, and my sister Silvia is like her, and has a large and +noble heart. Yesterday evening I was copying a part of the monthly +story, _From the Apennines to the Andes_,--which the teacher has +distributed among us all in small portions to copy, because it is so +long,--when Silvia entered on tiptoe, and said to me hastily, and in a +low voice: "Come to mamma with me. I heard them talking together this +morning: some affair has gone wrong with papa, and he was sad; mamma was +encouraging him: we are in difficulties--do you understand? We have no +more money. Papa said that it would be necessary to make some sacrifices +in order to recover himself. Now we must make sacrifices, too, must we +not? Are you ready to do it? Well, I will speak to mamma, and do you nod +assent, and promise her on your honor that you will do everything that I +shall say." + +Having said this, she took me by the hand and led me to our mother, who +was sewing, absorbed in thought. I sat down on one end of the sofa, +Silvia on the other, and she immediately said:-- + +"Listen, mamma, I have something to say to you. Both of us have +something to say to you." Mamma stared at us in surprise, and Silvia +began:-- + +"Papa has no money, has he?" + +"What are you saying?" replied mamma, turning crimson. "Has he not +indeed! What do you know about it? Who has told you?" + +"I know it," said Silvia, resolutely. "Well, then, listen, mamma; we +must make some sacrifices, too. You promised me a fan at the end of May, +and Enrico expected his box of paints; we don't want anything now; we +don't want to waste a soldo; we shall be just as well pleased--you +understand?" + +Mamma tried to speak; but Silvia said: "No; it must be thus. We have +decided. And until papa has money again, we don't want any fruit or +anything else; broth will be enough for us, and we will eat bread in the +morning for breakfast: thus we shall spend less on the table, for we +already spend too much; and we promise you that you will always find us +perfectly contented. Is it not so, Enrico?" + +I replied that it was. "Always perfectly contented," repeated Silvia, +closing mamma's mouth with one hand. "And if there are any other +sacrifices to be made, either in the matter of clothing or anything +else, we will make them gladly; and we will even sell our presents; I +will give up all my things, I will serve you as your maid, we will not +have anything done out of the house any more, I will work all day long +with you, I will do everything you wish, I am ready for anything! For +anything!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around my mother's neck, "if +papa and mamma can only be saved further troubles, if I can only behold +you both once more at ease, and in good spirits, as in former days, +between your Silvia and your Enrico, who love you so dearly, who would +give their lives for you!" + +Ah! I have never seen my mother so happy as she was on hearing these +words; she never before kissed us on the brow in that way, weeping and +laughing, and incapable of speech. And then she assured Silvia that she +had not understood rightly; that we were not in the least reduced in +circumstances, as she imagined; and she thanked us a hundred times, and +was cheerful all the evening, until my father came in, when she told him +all about it. He did not open his mouth, poor father! But this morning, +as we sat at the table, I felt at once both a great pleasure and a great +sadness: under my napkin I found my box of colors, and under hers, +Silvia found her fan. + + +THE FIRE. + + Thursday, 11th. + +This morning I had finished copying my share of the story, _From the +Apennines to the Andes_, and was seeking for a theme for the independent +composition which the teacher had assigned us to write, when I heard an +unusual talking on the stairs, and shortly after two firemen entered the +house, and asked permission of my father to inspect the stoves and +chimneys, because a smoke-pipe was on fire on the roof, and they could +not tell to whom it belonged. + +My father said, "Pray do so." And although we had no fire burning +anywhere, they began to make the round of our apartments, and to lay +their ears to the walls, to hear if the fire was roaring in the flues +which run up to the other floors of the house. + +And while they were going through the rooms, my father said to me, "Here +is a theme for your composition, Enrico,--the firemen. Try to write down +what I am about to tell you. + +"I saw them at work two years ago, one evening, when I was coming out of +the Balbo Theatre late at night. On entering the Via Roma, I saw an +unusual light, and a crowd of people collecting. A house was on fire. +Tongues of flame and clouds of smoke were bursting from the windows and +the roof; men and women appeared at the windows and then disappeared, +uttering shrieks of despair. There was a dense throng in front of the +door: the crowd was shouting: 'They will be burned alive! Help! The +firemen!' At that moment a carriage arrived, four firemen sprang out of +it--the first who had reached the town-hall--and rushed into the house. +They had hardly gone in when a horrible thing happened: a woman ran to a +window of the third story, with a yell, clutched the balcony, climbed +down it, and remained suspended, thus clinging, almost suspended in +space, with her back outwards, bending beneath the flames, which flashed +out from the room and almost licked her head. The crowd uttered a cry of +horror. The firemen, who had been stopped on the second floor by mistake +by the terrified lodgers, had already broken through a wall and +precipitated themselves into a room, when a hundred shouts gave them +warning:-- + +"'On the third floor! On the third floor!' + +"They flew to the third floor. There there was an infernal +uproar,--beams from the roof crashing in, corridors filled with a +suffocating smoke. In order to reach the rooms where the lodgers were +imprisoned, there was no other way left but to pass over the roof. They +instantly sprang upon it, and a moment later something which resembled a +black phantom appeared on the tiles, in the midst of the smoke. It was +the corporal, who had been the first to arrive. But in order to get +from the roof to the small set of rooms cut off by the fire, he was +forced to pass over an extremely narrow space comprised between a dormer +window and the eavestrough: all the rest was in flames, and that tiny +space was covered with snow and ice, and there was no place to hold on +to. + +"'It is impossible for him to pass!' shouted the crowd below. + +"The corporal advanced along the edge of the roof. All shuddered, and +began to observe him with bated breath. He passed. A tremendous hurrah +rose towards heaven. The corporal resumed his way, and on arriving at +the point which was threatened, he began to break away, with furious +blows of his axe, beams, tiles, and rafters, in order to open a hole +through which he might descend within. + +"In the meanwhile, the woman was still suspended outside the window. The +fire raged with increased violence over her head; another moment, and +she would have fallen into the street. + +"The hole was opened. We saw the corporal pull off his shoulder-belt and +lower himself inside: the other firemen, who had arrived, followed. + +"At that instant a very lofty Porta ladder, which had just arrived, was +placed against the entablature of the house, in front of the windows +whence issued flames, and howls, as of maniacs. But it seemed as though +they were too late. + +"'No one can be saved now!' they shouted. 'The firemen are burning! The +end has come! They are dead!' + +"All at once the black form of the corporal made its appearance at the +window with the balcony, lighted up by the flames overhead. The woman +clasped him round the neck; he caught her round the body with both +arms, drew her up, and laid her down inside the room. + +"The crowd set up a shout a thousand voices strong, which rose above the +roar of the conflagration. + +"But the others? And how were they to get down? The ladder which leaned +against the roof on the front of another window was at a good distance +from them. How could they get hold of it? + +"While the people were saying this to themselves, one of the firemen +stepped out of the window, set his right foot on the window-sill and his +left on the ladder, and standing thus upright in the air, he grasped the +lodgers, one after the other, as the other men handed them to him from +within, passed them on to a comrade, who had climbed up from the street, +and who, after securing a firm grasp for them on the rungs, sent them +down, one after the other, with the assistance of more firemen. + +"First came the woman of the balcony, then a baby, then another woman, +then an old man. All were saved. After the old man, the fireman who had +remained inside descended. The last to come down was the corporal who +had been the first to hasten up. The crowd received them all with a +burst of applause; but when the last made his appearance, the vanguard +of the rescuers, the one who had faced the abyss in advance of the rest, +the one who would have perished had it been fated that one should +perish, the crowd saluted him like a conqueror, shouting and stretching +out their arms, with an affectionate impulse of admiration and of +gratitude, and in a few minutes his obscure name--Giuseppe Robbino--rang +from a thousand throats. + +"Have you understood? That is courage--the courage of the heart, which +does not reason, which does not waver, which dashes blindly on, like a +lightning flash, wherever it hears the cry of a dying man. One of these +days I will take you to the exercises of the firemen, and I will point +out to you Corporal Robbino; for you would be very glad to know him, +would you not?" + +I replied that I should. + +"Here he is," said my father. + +I turned round with a start. The two firemen, having completed their +inspection, were traversing the room in order to reach the door. + +My father pointed to the smaller of the men, who had straps of gold +braid, and said, "Shake hands with Corporal Robbino." + +The corporal halted, and offered me his hand; I pressed it; he made a +salute and withdrew. + +"And bear this well in mind," said my father; "for out of the thousands +of hands which you will shake in the course of your life there will +probably not be ten which possess the worth of his." + + +FROM THE APENNINES TO THE ANDES. + +(_Monthly Story._) + +Many years ago a Genoese lad of thirteen, the son of a workingman, went +from Genoa to America all alone to seek his mother. + +His mother had gone two years before to Buenos Ayres, a city, the +capital of the Argentine Republic, to take service in a wealthy family, +and to thus earn in a short time enough to place her family once more in +easy circumstances, they having fallen, through various misfortunes, +into poverty and debt. There are courageous women--not a few--who take +this long voyage with this object in view, and who, thanks to the large +wages which people in service receive there, return home at the end of a +few years with several thousand lire. The poor mother had wept tears of +blood at parting from her children,--the one aged eighteen, the other, +eleven; but she had set out courageously and filled with hope. + +The voyage was prosperous: she had no sooner arrived at Buenos Ayres +than she found, through a Genoese shopkeeper, a cousin of her husband, +who had been established there for a very long time, a good Argentine +family, which gave high wages and treated her well. And for a short time +she kept up a regular correspondence with her family. As it had been +settled between them, her husband addressed his letters to his cousin, +who transmitted them to the woman, and the latter handed her replies to +him, and he despatched them to Genoa, adding a few lines of his own. As +she was earning eighty lire a month and spending nothing for herself, +she sent home a handsome sum every three months, with which her husband, +who was a man of honor, gradually paid off their most urgent debts, and +thus regained his good reputation. And in the meantime, he worked away +and was satisfied with the state of his affairs, since he also cherished +the hope that his wife would shortly return; for the house seemed empty +without her, and the younger son in particular, who was extremely +attached to his mother, was very much depressed, and could not resign +himself to having her so far away. + +But a year had elapsed since they had parted; after a brief letter, in +which she said that her health was not very good, they heard nothing +more. They wrote twice to the cousin; the cousin did not reply. They +wrote to the Argentine family where the woman was at service; but it is +possible that the letter never reached them, for they had distorted the +name in addressing it: they received no answer. Fearing a misfortune, +they wrote to the Italian Consulate at Buenos Ayres to have inquiries +made, and after a lapse of three months they received a response from +the consul, that in spite of advertisements in the newspapers no one had +presented herself nor sent any word. And it could not have happened +otherwise, for this reason if for no other: that with the idea of +sparing the good name of her family, which she fancied she was +discrediting by becoming a servant, the good woman had not given her +real name to the Argentine family. + +Several months more passed by; no news. The father and sons were in +consternation; the youngest was oppressed by a melancholy which he could +not conquer. What was to be done? To whom should they have recourse? The +father's first thought had been to set out, to go to America in search +of his wife. But his work? Who would support his sons? And neither could +the eldest son go, for he had just then begun to earn something, and he +was necessary to the family. And in this anxiety they lived, repeating +each day the same sad speeches, or gazing at each other in silence; +when, one evening, Marco, the youngest, declared with decision, "I am +going to America to look for my mother." + +His father shook his head sadly and made no reply. It was an +affectionate thought, but an impossible thing. To make a journey to +America, which required a month, alone, at the age of thirteen! But the +boy patiently insisted. He persisted that day, the day after, every +day, with great calmness, reasoning with the good sense of a man. +"Others have gone thither," he said; "and smaller boys than I, too. Once +on board the ship, I shall get there like anybody else. Once arrived +there, I only have to hunt up our cousin's shop. There are plenty of +Italians there who will show me the street. After finding our cousin, my +mother is found; and if I do not find him, I will go to the consul: I +will search out that Argentine family. Whatever happens, there is work +for all there; I shall find work also; sufficient, at least, to earn +enough to get home." And thus little by little he almost succeeded in +persuading his father. His father esteemed him; he knew that he had good +judgment and courage; that he was inured to privations and to +sacrifices; and that all these good qualities had acquired double force +in his heart in consequence of the sacred project of finding his mother, +whom he adored. In addition to this, the captain of a steamer, the +friend of an acquaintance of his, having heard the plan mentioned, +undertook to procure a free third-class passage for the Argentine +Republic. + +And then, after a little hesitation, the father gave his consent. The +voyage was decided on. They filled a sack with clothes for him, put a +few crowns in his pocket, and gave him the address of the cousin; and +one fine evening in April they saw him on board. + +"Marco, my son," his father said to him, as he gave him his last kiss, +with tears in his eyes, on the steps of the steamer, which was on the +point of starting, "take courage. Thou hast set out on a holy +undertaking, and God will aid thee." + +Poor Marco! His heart was strong and prepared for the hardest trials of +this voyage; but when he beheld his beautiful Genoa disappear on the +horizon, and found himself on the open sea on that huge steamer thronged +with emigrating peasants, alone, unacquainted with any one, with that +little bag which held his entire fortune, a sudden discouragement +assailed him. For two days he remained crouching like a dog on the bows, +hardly eating, and oppressed with a great desire to weep. Every +description of sad thoughts passed through his mind, and the saddest, +the most terrible, was the one which was the most persistent in its +return,--the thought that his mother was dead. In his broken and painful +slumbers he constantly beheld a strange face, which surveyed him with an +air of compassion, and whispered in his ear, "Your mother is dead!" And +then he awoke, stifling a shriek. + +Nevertheless, after passing the Straits of Gibraltar, at the first sight +of the Atlantic Ocean he recovered his spirits a little, and his hope. +But it was only a brief respite. That vast but always smooth sea, the +increasing heat, the misery of all those poor people who surrounded him, +the consciousness of his own solitude, overwhelmed him once more. The +empty and monotonous days which succeeded each other became confounded +in his memory, as is the case with sick people. It seemed to him that he +had been at sea a year. And every morning, on waking, he felt surprised +afresh at finding himself there alone on that vast watery expanse, on +his way to America. The beautiful flying fish which fell on deck every +now and then, the marvellous sunsets of the tropics, with their enormous +clouds colored like flame and blood, and those nocturnal +phosphorescences which make the ocean seem all on fire like a sea of +lava, did not produce on him the effect of real things, but of marvels +beheld in a dream. There were days of bad weather, during which he +remained constantly in the dormitory, where everything was rolling and +crashing, in the midst of a terrible chorus of lamentations and +imprecations, and he thought that his last hour had come. There were +other days, when the sea was calm and yellowish, of insupportable heat, +of infinite tediousness; interminable and wretched hours, during which +the enervated passengers, stretched motionless on the planks, seemed all +dead. And the voyage was endless: sea and sky, sky and sea; to-day the +same as yesterday, to-morrow like to-day, and so on, always, eternally. + +And for long hours he stood leaning on the bulwarks, gazing at that +interminable sea in amazement, thinking vaguely of his mother, until his +eyes closed and his head was drooping with sleep; and then again he +beheld that unknown face which gazed upon him with an air of compassion, +and repeated in his ear, "Your mother is dead!" and at the sound of that +voice he awoke with a start, to resume his dreaming with wide-open eyes, +and to gaze at the unchanging horizon. + +The voyage lasted twenty-seven days. But the last days were the best. +The weather was fine, and the air cool. He had made the acquaintance of +a good old man, a Lombard, who was going to America to find his son, an +agriculturist in the vicinity of the town of Rosario; he had told him +his whole story, and the old man kept repeating every little while, as +he tapped him on the nape of the neck with his hand, "Courage, my lad; +you will find your mother well and happy." + +This companionship comforted him; his sad presentiments were turned into +joyous ones. Seated on the bow, beside the aged peasant, who was smoking +his pipe, beneath the beautiful starry heaven, in the midst of a group +of singing peasants, he imagined to himself in his own mind a hundred +times his arrival at Buenos Ayres; he saw himself in a certain street; +he found the shop, he flew to his cousin. "How is my mother? Come, let +us go at once! Let us go at once!" They hurried on together; they +ascended a staircase; a door opened. And here his mute soliloquy came to +an end; his imagination was swallowed up in a feeling of inexpressible +tenderness, which made him secretly pull forth a little medal that he +wore on his neck, and murmur his prayers as he kissed it. + +On the twenty-seventh day after their departure they arrived. It was a +beautiful, rosy May morning, when the steamer cast anchor in the immense +river of the Plata, near the shore along which stretches the vast city +of Buenos Ayres, the capital of the Argentine Republic. This splendid +weather seemed to him to be a good augury. He was beside himself with +joy and impatience. His mother was only a few miles from him! In a few +hours more he would have seen her! He was in America, in the new world, +and he had had the daring to come alone! The whole of that extremely +long voyage now seemed to him to have passed in an instant. It seemed to +him that he had flown hither in a dream, and that he had that moment +waked. And he was so happy, that he hardly experienced any surprise or +distress when he felt in his pockets and found only one of the two +little heaps into which he had divided his little treasure, in order to +be the more sure of not losing the whole of it. He had been robbed; he +had only a few lire left; but what mattered that to him, when he was +near his mother? With his bag in his hand, he descended, in company +with many other Italians, to the tug-boat which carried him within a +short distance of the shore; clambered down from the tug into a boat +which bore the name of _Andrea Doria_; was landed on the wharf; saluted +his old Lombard friend, and directed his course, in long strides, +towards the city. + +On arriving at the entrance of the first street, he stopped a man who +was passing by, and begged him to show him in what direction he should +go in order to reach the street of _los Artes_. He chanced to have +stopped an Italian workingman. The latter surveyed him with curiosity, +and inquired if he knew how to read. The lad nodded, "Yes." + +"Well, then," said the laborer, pointing to the street from which he had +just emerged, "keep straight on through there, reading the names of all +the streets on the corners; you will end by finding the one you want." + +The boy thanked him, and turned into the street which opened before him. + +It was a straight and endless but narrow street, bordered by low white +houses, which looked like so many little villas, filled with people, +with carriages, with carts which made a deafening noise; here and there +floated enormous banners of various hues, with announcements as to the +departure of steamers for strange cities inscribed upon them in large +letters. At every little distance along the street, on the right and +left, he perceived two other streets which ran straight away as far as +he could see, also bordered by low white houses, filled with people and +vehicles, and bounded at their extremity by the level line of the +measureless plains of America, like the horizon at sea. The city seemed +infinite to him; it seemed to him that he might wander for days or +weeks, seeing other streets like these, on one hand and on the other, +and that all America must be covered with them. He looked attentively at +the names of the streets: strange names which cost him an effort to +read. At every fresh street, he felt his heart beat, at the thought that +it was the one he was in search of. He stared at all the women, with the +thought that he might meet his mother. He caught sight of one in front +of him who made his blood leap; he overtook her: she was a negro. And +accelerating his pace, he walked on and on. On arriving at the +cross-street, he read, and stood as though rooted to the sidewalk. It +was the street _del los Artes_. He turned into it, and saw the number +117; his cousin's shop was No. 175. He quickened his pace still more, +and almost ran; at No. 171 he had to pause to regain his breath. And he +said to himself, "O my mother! my mother! It is really true that I shall +see you in another moment!" He ran on; he arrived at a little +haberdasher's shop. This was it. He stepped up close to it. He saw a +woman with gray hair and spectacles. + +"What do you want, boy?" she asked him in Spanish. + +"Is not this," said the boy, making an effort to utter a sound, "the +shop of Francesco Merelli?" + +"Francesco Merelli is dead," replied the woman in Italian. + +The boy felt as though he had received a blow on his breast. + +"When did he die?" + +"Eh? quite a while ago," replied the woman. "Months ago. His affairs +were in a bad state, and he ran away. They say he went to Bahia Blanca, +very far from here. And he died just after he reached there. The shop +is mine." + +The boy turned pale. + +Then he said quickly, "Merelli knew my mother; my mother who was at +service with Signor Mequinez. He alone could tell me where she is. I +have come to America to find my mother. Merelli sent her our letters. I +must find my mother." + +"Poor boy!" said the woman; "I don't know. I can ask the boy in the +courtyard. He knew the young man who did Merelli's errands. He may be +able to tell us something." + +She went to the end of the shop and called the lad, who came instantly. +"Tell me," asked the shopwoman, "do you remember whether Merelli's young +man went occasionally to carry letters to a woman in service, in the +house of the _son of the country_?" + +"To Signor Mequinez," replied the lad; "yes, signora, sometimes he did. +At the end of the street _del los Artes_." + +"Ah! thanks, signora!" cried Marco. "Tell me the number; don't you know +it? Send some one with me; come with me instantly, my boy; I have still +a few soldi." + +And he said this with so much warmth, that without waiting for the woman +to request him, the boy replied, "Come," and at once set out at a rapid +pace. + +They proceeded almost at a run, without uttering a word, to the end of +the extremely long street, made their way into the entrance of a little +white house, and halted in front of a handsome iron gate, through which +they could see a small yard, filled with vases of flowers. Marco gave a +tug at the bell. + +A young lady made her appearance. + +"The Mequinez family lives here, does it not?" demanded the lad +anxiously. + +"They did live here," replied the young lady, pronouncing her Italian in +Spanish fashion. "Now we, the Zeballos, live here." + +"And where have the Mequinez gone?" asked Marco, his heart palpitating. + +"They have gone to Cordova." + +"Cordova!" exclaimed Marco. "Where is Cordova? And the person whom they +had in their service? The woman, my mother! Their servant was my mother! +Have they taken my mother away, too?" + +The young lady looked at him and said: "I do not know. Perhaps my father +may know, for he knew them when they went away. Wait a moment." + +She ran away, and soon returned with her father, a tall gentleman, with +a gray beard. He looked intently for a minute at this sympathetic type +of a little Genoese sailor, with his golden hair and his aquiline nose, +and asked him in broken Italian, "Is your mother a Genoese?" + +Marco replied that she was. + +"Well then, the Genoese maid went with them; that I know for certain." + +"And where have they gone?" + +"To Cordova, a city." + +The boy gave vent to a sigh; then he said with resignation, "Then I will +go to Cordova." + +"Ah, poor child!" exclaimed the gentleman in Spanish; "poor boy! Cordova +is hundreds of miles from here." + +Marco turned as white as a corpse, and clung with one hand to the +railings. + +"Let us see, let us see," said the gentleman, moved to pity, and +opening the door; "come inside a moment; let us see if anything can be +done." He sat down, gave the boy a seat, and made him tell his story, +listened to it very attentively, meditated a little, then said +resolutely, "You have no money, have you?" + +"I still have some, a little," answered Marco. + +The gentleman reflected for five minutes more; then seated himself at a +desk, wrote a letter, sealed it, and handing it to the boy, he said to +him:-- + +"Listen to me, little Italian. Take this letter to Boca. That is a +little city which is half Genoese, and lies two hours' journey from +here. Any one will be able to show you the road. Go there and find the +gentleman to whom this letter is addressed, and whom every one knows. +Carry the letter to him. He will send you off to the town of Rosario +to-morrow, and will recommend you to some one there, who will think out +a way of enabling you to pursue your journey to Cordova, where you will +find the Mequinez family and your mother. In the meanwhile, take this." +And he placed in his hand a few lire. "Go, and keep up your courage; you +will find fellow-countrymen of yours in every direction, and you will +not be deserted. _Adios!_" + +The boy said, "Thanks," without finding any other words to express +himself, went out with his bag, and having taken leave of his little +guide, he set out slowly in the direction of Boca, filled with sorrow +and amazement, across that great and noisy town. + +Everything that happened to him from that moment until the evening of +that day ever afterwards lingered in his memory in a confused and +uncertain form, like the wild vagaries of a person in a fever, so weary +was he, so troubled, so despondent. And at nightfall on the following +day, after having slept over night in a poor little chamber in a house +in Boca, beside a harbor porter, after having passed nearly the whole of +that day seated on a pile of beams, and, as in delirium, in sight of +thousands of ships and boats and tugs, he found himself on the poop of a +large sailing vessel, loaded with fruit, which was setting out for the +town of Rosario, managed by three robust Genoese, who were bronzed by +the sun; and their voices and the dialect which they spoke put a little +comfort into his heart once more. + +They set out, and the voyage lasted three days and four nights, and it +was a continual amazement to the little traveller. Three days and four +nights on that wonderful river Parana, in comparison with which our +great Po is but a rivulet; and the length of Italy quadrupled does not +equal that of its course. The barge advanced slowly against this +immeasurable mass of water. It threaded its way among long islands, once +the haunts of serpents and tigers, covered with orange-trees and +willows, like floating coppices; now they passed through narrow canals, +from which it seemed as though they could never issue forth; now they +sailed out on vast expanses of water, having the aspect of great +tranquil lakes; then among islands again, through the intricate channels +of an archipelago, amid enormous masses of vegetation. A profound +silence reigned. For long stretches the shores and very vast and +solitary waters produced the impression of an unknown stream, upon which +this poor little sail was the first in all the world to venture itself. +The further they advanced, the more this monstrous river dismayed him. +He imagined that his mother was at its source, and that their navigation +must last for years. Twice a day he ate a little bread and salted meat +with the boatmen, who, perceiving that he was sad, never addressed a +word to him. At night he slept on deck and woke every little while with +a start, astounded by the limpid light of the moon, which silvered the +immense expanse of water and the distant shores; and then his heart sank +within him. "Cordova!" He repeated that name, "Cordova!" like the name +of one of those mysterious cities of which he had heard in fables. But +then he thought, "My mother passed this spot; she saw these islands, +these shores;" and then these places upon which the glance of his mother +had fallen no longer seemed strange and solitary to him. At night one of +the boatmen sang. That voice reminded him of his mother's songs, when +she had lulled him to sleep as a little child. On the last night, when +he heard that song, he sobbed. The boatman interrupted his song. Then he +cried, "Courage, courage, my son! What the deuce! A Genoese crying +because he is far from home! The Genoese make the circuit of the world, +glorious and triumphant!" + +And at these words he shook himself, he heard the voice of the Genoese +blood, and he raised his head aloft with pride, dashing his fist down on +the rudder. "Well, yes," he said to himself; "and if I am also obliged +to travel for years and years to come, all over the world, and to +traverse hundreds of miles on foot, I will go on until I find my mother, +were I to arrive in a dying condition, and fall dead at her feet! If +only I can see her once again! Courage!" And with this frame of mind he +arrived at daybreak, on a cool and rosy morning, in front of the city of +Rosario, situated on the high bank of the Parana, where the beflagged +yards of a hundred vessels of every land were mirrored in the waves. + +Shortly after landing, he went to the town, bag in hand, to seek an +Argentine gentleman for whom his protector in Boca had intrusted him +with a visiting-card, with a few words of recommendation. On entering +Rosario, it seemed to him that he was coming into a city with which he +was already familiar. There were the straight, interminable streets, +bordered with low white houses, traversed in all directions above the +roofs by great bundles of telegraph and telephone wires, which looked +like enormous spiders' webs; and a great confusion of people, of horses, +and of vehicles. His head grew confused; he almost thought that he had +got back to Buenos Ayres, and must hunt up his cousin once more. He +wandered about for nearly an hour, making one turn after another, and +seeming always to come back to the same street; and by dint of +inquiring, he found the house of his new protector. He pulled the bell. +There came to the door a big, light-haired, gruff man, who had the air +of a steward, and who demanded awkwardly, with a foreign accent:-- + +"What do you want?" + +The boy mentioned the name of his patron. + +"The master has gone away," replied the steward; "he set out yesterday +afternoon for Buenos Ayres, with his whole family." + +The boy was left speechless. Then he stammered, "But I--I have no one +here! I am alone!" and he offered the card. + +The steward took it, read it, and said surlily: "I don't know what to do +for you. I'll give it to him when he returns a month hence." + +"But I, I am alone; I am in need!" exclaimed the lad, in a supplicating +voice. + +"Eh? come now," said the other; "just as though there were not a plenty +of your sort from your country in Rosario! Be off, and do your begging +in Italy!" And he slammed the door in his face. + +The boy stood there as though he had been turned to stone. + +Then he picked up his bag again slowly, and went out, his heart torn +with anguish, with his mind in a whirl, assailed all at once by a +thousand anxious thoughts. What was to be done? Where was he to go? From +Rosario to Cordova was a day's journey, by rail. He had only a few lire +left. After deducting what he should be obliged to spend that day, he +would have next to nothing left. Where was he to find the money to pay +his fare? He could work--but how? To whom should he apply for work? Ask +alms? Ah, no! To be repulsed, insulted, humiliated, as he had been a +little while ago? No; never, never more--rather would he die! And at +this idea, and at the sight of the very long street which was lost in +the distance of the boundless plain, he felt his courage desert him once +more, flung his bag on the sidewalk, sat down with his back against the +wall, and bent his head between his hands, in an attitude of despair. + +People jostled him with their feet as they passed; the vehicles filled +the road with noise; several boys stopped to look at him. He remained +thus for a while. Then he was startled by a voice saying to him in a +mixture of Italian and Lombard dialect, "What is the matter, little +boy?" + +He raised his face at these words, and instantly sprang to his feet, +uttering an exclamation of wonder: "You here!" + +It was the old Lombard peasant with whom he had struck up a friendship +during the voyage. + +The amazement of the peasant was no less than his own; but the boy did +not leave him time to question him, and he rapidly recounted the state +of his affairs. + +"Now I am without a soldo. I must go to work. Find me work, that I may +get together a few lire. I will do anything; I will carry rubbish, I +will sweep the streets; I can run on errands, or even work in the +country; I am content to live on black bread; but only let it be so that +I may set out quickly, that I may find my mother once more. Do me this +charity, and find me work, find me work, for the love of God, for I can +do no more!" + +"The deuce! the deuce!" said the peasant, looking about him, and +scratching his chin. "What a story is this! To work, to work!--that is +soon said. Let us look about a little. Is there no way of finding thirty +lire among so many fellow-countrymen?" + +The boy looked at him, consoled by a ray of hope. + +"Come with me," said the peasant. + +"Where?" asked the lad, gathering up his bag again. + +"Come with me." + +The peasant started on; Marco followed him. They traversed a long +stretch of street together without speaking. The peasant halted at the +door of an inn which had for its sign a star, and an inscription +beneath, _The Star of Italy_. He thrust his face in, and turning to the +boy, he said cheerfully, "We have arrived at just the right moment." + +They entered a large room, where there were numerous tables, and many +men seated, drinking and talking loudly. The old Lombard approached the +first table, and from the manner in which he saluted the six guests who +were gathered around it, it was evident that he had been in their +company until a short time previously. They were red in the face, and +were clinking their glasses, and vociferating and laughing. + +"Comrades," said the Lombard, without any preface, remaining on his +feet, and presenting Marco, "here is a poor lad, our fellow-countryman, +who has come alone from Genoa to Buenos Ayres to seek his mother. At +Buenos Ayres they told him, 'She is not here; she is in Cordova.' He +came in a bark to Rosario, three days and three nights on the way, with +a couple of lines of recommendation. He presents the card; they make an +ugly face at him: he hasn't a centesimo to bless himself with. He is +here alone and in despair. He is a lad full of heart. Let us see a bit. +Can't we find enough to pay for his ticket to go to Cordova in search of +his mother? Are we to leave him here like a dog?" + +"Never in the world, by Heavens! That shall never be said!" they all +shouted at once, hammering on the table with their fists. "A +fellow-countryman of ours! Come hither, little fellow! We are emigrants! +See what a handsome young rogue! Out with your coppers, comrades! Bravo! +Come alone! He has daring! Drink a sup, _patriotta_! We'll send you to +your mother; never fear!" And one pinched his cheek, another slapped him +on the shoulder, a third relieved him of his bag; other emigrants rose +from the neighboring tables, and gathered about; the boy's story made +the round of the inn; three Argentine guests hurried in from the +adjoining room; and in less than ten minutes the Lombard peasant, who +was passing round the hat, had collected forty-two lire. + +"Do you see," he then said, turning to the boy, "how fast things are +done in America?" + +"Drink!" cried another to him, offering him a glass of wine; "to the +health of your mother!" + +All raised their glasses, and Marco repeated, "To the health of my--" +But a sob of joy choked him, and, setting the glass on the table, he +flung himself on the old man's neck. + +At daybreak on the following morning he set out for Cordova, ardent and +smiling, filled with presentiments of happiness. But there is no +cheerfulness that rules for long in the face of certain sinister aspects +of nature. The weather was close and dull; the train, which was nearly +empty, ran through an immense plain, destitute of every sign of +habitation. He found himself alone in a very long car, which resembled +those on trains for the wounded. He gazed to the right, he gazed to the +left, and he saw nothing but an endless solitude, strewn with tiny, +deformed trees, with contorted trunks and branches, in attitudes such as +were never seen before, almost of wrath and anguish, and a sparse and +melancholy vegetation, which gave to the plain the aspect of a ruined +cemetery. + +He dozed for half an hour; then resumed his survey: the spectacle was +still the same. The railway stations were deserted, like the dwellings +of hermits; and when the train stopped, not a sound was heard; it seemed +to him that he was alone in a lost train, abandoned in the middle of a +desert. It seemed to him as though each station must be the last, and +that he should then enter the mysterious regions of the savages. An icy +breeze nipped his face. On embarking at Genoa, towards the end of April, +it had not occurred to him that he should find winter in America, and +he was dressed for summer. + +After several hours of this he began to suffer from cold, and in +connection with the cold, from the fatigue of the days he had recently +passed through, filled as they had been with violent emotions, and from +sleepless and harassing nights. He fell asleep, slept a long time, and +awoke benumbed; he felt ill. Then a vague terror of falling ill, of +dying on the journey, seized upon him; a fear of being thrown out there, +in the middle of that desolate prairie, where his body would be torn in +pieces by dogs and birds of prey, like the corpses of horses and cows +which he had caught sight of every now and then beside the track, and +from which he had turned aside his eyes in disgust. In this state of +anxious illness, in the midst of that dark silence of nature, his +imagination grew excited, and looked on the dark side of things. + +Was he quite sure, after all, that he should find his mother at Cordova? +And what if she had not gone there? What if that gentleman in the Via +del los Artes had made a mistake? And what if she were dead? Thus +meditating, he fell asleep again, and dreamed that he was in Cordova, +and it was night, and that he heard cries from all the doors and all the +windows: "She is not here! She is not here! She is not here!" This +roused him with a start, in terror, and he saw at the other end of the +car three bearded men enveloped in shawls of various colors who were +staring at him and talking together in a low tone; and the suspicion +flashed across him that they were assassins, and that they wanted to +kill him for the sake of stealing his bag. Fear was added to his +consciousness of illness and to the cold; his fancy, already perturbed, +became distorted: the three men kept on staring at him; one of them +moved towards him; then his reason wandered, and rushing towards him +with arms wide open, he shrieked, "I have nothing; I am a poor boy; I +have come from Italy; I am in quest of my mother; I am alone: do not do +me any harm!" + +They instantly understood the situation; they took compassion on him, +caressed and soothed him, speaking to him many words which he did not +hear nor comprehend; and perceiving that his teeth were chattering with +cold, they wrapped one of their shawls around him, and made him sit down +again, so that he might go to sleep. And he did fall asleep once more, +when the twilight was descending. When they aroused him, he was at +Cordova. + +Ah, what a deep breath he drew, and with what impetuosity he flew from +the car! He inquired of one of the station employees where the house of +the engineer Mequinez was situated; the latter mentioned the name of a +church; it stood beside the church: the boy hastened away. + +It was night. He entered the city, and it seemed to him that he was +entering Rosario once more; that he again beheld those straight streets, +flanked with little white houses, and intersected by other very long and +straight streets. But there were very few people, and under the light of +the rare street lanterns, he encountered strange faces of a hue unknown +to him, between black and greenish; and raising his head from time to +time, he beheld churches of bizarre architecture which were outlined +black and vast against the sky. The city was dark and silent, but after +having traversed that immense desert, it appeared lively to him. He +inquired his way of a priest, speedily found the church and the house, +pulled the bell with one trembling hand, and pressed the other on his +breast to repress the beating of his heart, which was leaping into his +throat. + +An old woman, with a light in her hand, opened the door. + +The boy could not speak at once. + +"Whom do you want?" demanded the dame in Spanish. + +"The engineer Mequinez," replied Marco. + +The old woman made a motion to cross her arms on her breast, and +replied, with a shake of the head: "So you, too, have dealings with the +engineer Mequinez! It strikes me that it is time to stop this. We have +been worried for the last three months. It is not enough that the +newspapers have said it. We shall have to have it printed on the corner +of the street, that Signor Mequinez has gone to live at Tucuman!" + +The boy gave way to a gesture of despair. Then he gave way to an +outburst of passion. + +"So there is a curse upon me! I am doomed to die on the road, without +having found my mother! I shall go mad! I shall kill myself! My God! +what is the name of that country? Where is it? At what distance is it +situated?" + +"Eh, poor boy," replied the old woman, moved to pity; "a mere trifle! We +are four or five hundred miles from there, at least." + +The boy covered his face with his hands; then he asked with a sob, "And +now what am I to do!" + +"What am I to say to you, my poor child?" responded the dame: "I don't +know." + +But suddenly an idea struck her, and she added hastily: "Listen, now +that I think of it. There is one thing that you can do. Go down this +street, to the right, and at the third house you will find a courtyard; +there there is a _capataz_, a trader, who is setting out to-morrow for +Tucuman, with his wagons and his oxen. Go and see if he will take you, +and offer him your services; perhaps he will give you a place on his +wagons: go at once." + +The lad grasped his bag, thanked her as he ran, and two minutes later +found himself in a vast courtyard, lighted by lanterns, where a number +of men were engaged in loading sacks of grain on certain enormous carts +which resembled the movable houses of mountebanks, with rounded tops, +and very tall wheels; and a tall man with mustaches, enveloped in a sort +of mantle of black and white check, and with big boots, was directing +the work. + +The lad approached this man, and timidly proffered his request, saying +that he had come from Italy, and that he was in search of his mother. + +The _capataz_, which signifies the head (the head conductor of this +convoy of wagons), surveyed him from head to foot with a keen glance, +and replied drily, "I have no place." + +"I have fifteen lire," answered the boy in a supplicating tone; "I will +give you my fifteen lire. I will work on the journey; I will fetch the +water and fodder for the animals; I will perform all sorts of services. +A little bread will suffice for me. Make a little place for me, signor." + +The _capataz_ looked him over again, and replied with a better grace, +"There is no room; and then, we are not going to Tucuman; we are going +to another town, Santiago dell'Estero. We shall have to leave you at a +certain point, and you will still have a long way to go on foot." + +"Ah, I will make twice as long a journey!" exclaimed Marco; "I can walk; +do not worry about that; I shall get there by some means or other: make +a little room for me, signor, out of charity; for pity's sake, do not +leave me here alone!" + +"Beware; it is a journey of twenty days." + +"It matters nothing to me." + +"It is a hard journey." + +"I will endure everything." + +"You will have to travel alone." + +"I fear nothing, if I can only find my mother. Have compassion!" + +The _capataz_ drew his face close to a lantern, and scrutinized him. +Then he said, "Very well." + +The lad kissed his hand. + +"You shall sleep in one of the wagons to-night," added the _capataz_, as +he quitted him; "to-morrow morning, at four o'clock, I will wake you. +Good night." + +At four o'clock in the morning, by the light of the stars, the long +string of wagons was set in motion with a great noise; each cart was +drawn by six oxen, and all were followed by a great number of spare +animals for a change. + +The boy, who had been awakened and placed in one of the carts, on the +sacks, instantly fell again into a deep sleep. When he awoke, the convoy +had halted in a solitary spot, full in the sun, and all the men--the +_peones_--were seated round a quarter of calf, which was roasting in the +open air, beside a large fire, which was flickering in the wind. They +all ate together, took a nap, and then set out again; and thus the +journey continued, regulated like a march of soldiers. Every morning +they set out on the road at five o'clock, halted at nine, set out again +at five o'clock in the evening, and halted again at ten. The _peones_ +rode on horseback, and stimulated the oxen with long goads. The boy +lighted the fire for the roasting, gave the beasts their fodder, +polished up the lanterns, and brought water for drinking. + +The landscape passed before him like an indistinct vision: vast groves +of little brown trees; villages consisting of a few scattered houses, +with red and battlemented facades; very vast tracts, possibly the +ancient beds of great salt lakes, which gleamed white with salt as far +as the eye could reach; and on every hand, and always, the prairie, +solitude, silence. On very rare occasions they encountered two or three +travellers on horseback, followed by a herd of picked horses, who passed +them at a gallop, like a whirlwind. The days were all alike, as at sea, +wearisome and interminable; but the weather was fine. But the _peones_ +became more and more exacting every day, as though the lad were their +bond slave; some of them treated him brutally, with threats; all forced +him to serve them without mercy: they made him carry enormous bundles of +forage; they sent him to get water at great distances; and he, broken +with fatigue, could not even sleep at night, continually tossed about as +he was by the violent jolts of the wagon, and the deafening groaning of +the wheels and wooden axles. And in addition to this, the wind having +risen, a fine, reddish, greasy dust, which enveloped everything, +penetrated the wagon, made its way under the covers, filled his eyes and +mouth, robbed him of sight and breath, constantly, oppressively, +insupportably. Worn out with toil and lack of sleep, reduced to rags +and dirt, reproached and ill treated from morning till night, the poor +boy grew every day more dejected, and would have lost heart entirely if +the _capataz_ had not addressed a kind word to him now and then. He +often wept, unseen, in a corner of the wagon, with his face against his +bag, which no longer contained anything but rags. Every morning he rose +weaker and more discouraged, and as he looked out over the country, and +beheld always the same boundless and implacable plain, like a +terrestrial ocean, he said to himself: "Ah, I shall not hold out until +to-night! I shall not hold out until to-night! To-day I shall die on the +road!" And his toil increased, his ill treatment was redoubled. One +morning, in the absence of the _capataz_, one of the men struck him, +because he had delayed in fetching the water. And then they all began to +take turns at it, when they gave him an order, dealing him a kick, +saying: "Take that, you vagabond! Carry that to your mother!" + +His heart was breaking. He fell ill; for three days he remained in the +wagon, with a coverlet over him, fighting a fever, and seeing no one +except the _capataz_, who came to give him his drink and feel his pulse. +And then he believed that he was lost, and invoked his mother in +despair, calling her a hundred times by name: "O my mother! my mother! +Help me! Come to me, for I am dying! Oh, my poor mother, I shall never +see you again! My poor mother, who will find me dead beside the way!" +And he folded his hands over his bosom and prayed. Then he grew better, +thanks to the care of the _capataz_, and recovered; but with his +recovery arrived the most terrible day of his journey, the day on which +he was to be left to his own devices. They had been on the way for more +than two weeks; when they arrived at the point where the road to +Tucuman parted from that which leads to Santiago dell'Estero, the +_capataz_ announced to him that they must separate. He gave him some +instructions with regard to the road, tied his bag on his shoulders in a +manner which would not annoy him as he walked, and, breaking off short, +as though he feared that he should be affected, he bade him farewell. +The boy had barely time to kiss him on one arm. The other men, too, who +had treated him so harshly, seemed to feel a little pity at the sight of +him left thus alone, and they made signs of farewell to him as they +moved away. And he returned the salute with his hand, stood watching the +convoy until it was lost to sight in the red dust of the plain, and then +set out sadly on his road. + + [Illustration: "HE STOOD WATCHING THE CONVOY UNTIL IT WAS LOST TO + SIGHT."--Page 263.] + +One thing, on the other hand, comforted him a little from the first. +After all those days of travel across that endless plain, which was +forever the same, he saw before him a chain of mountains very high and +blue, with white summits, which reminded him of the Alps, and gave him +the feeling of having drawn near to his own country once more. They were +the Andes, the dorsal spine of the American continent, that immense +chain which extends from Tierra del Fuego to the glacial sea of the +Arctic pole, through a hundred and ten degrees of latitude. And he was +also comforted by the fact that the air seemed to him to grow constantly +warmer; and this happened, because, in ascending towards the north, he +was slowly approaching the tropics. At great distances apart there were +tiny groups of houses with a petty shop; and he bought something to eat. +He encountered men on horseback; every now and then he saw women and +children seated on the ground, motionless and grave, with faces +entirely new to him, of an earthen hue, with oblique eyes and prominent +cheek-bones, who looked at him intently, and accompanied him with their +gaze, turning their heads slowly like automatons. They were Indians. + +The first day he walked as long as his strength would permit, and slept +under a tree. On the second day he made considerably less progress, and +with less spirit. His shoes were dilapidated, his feet wounded, his +stomach weakened by bad food. Towards evening he began to be alarmed. He +had heard, in Italy, that in this land there were serpents; he fancied +that he heard them crawling; he halted, then set out on a run, and with +cold chills in all his bones. At times he was seized with a profound +pity for himself, and he wept silently as he walked. Then he thought, +"Oh, how much my mother would suffer if she knew that I am afraid!" and +this thought restored his courage. Then, in order to distract his +thoughts from fear, he meditated much of her; he recalled to mind her +words when she had set out from Genoa, and the movement with which she +had arranged the coverlet beneath his chin when he was in bed, and when +he was a baby; for every time that she took him in her arms, she said to +him, "Stay here a little while with me"; and thus she remained for a +long time, with her head resting on his, thinking, thinking. + +And he said to himself: "Shall I see thee again, dear mother? Shall I +arrive at the end of my journey, my mother?" And he walked on and on, +among strange trees, vast plantations of sugar-cane, and fields without +end, always with those blue mountains in front of him, which cut the sky +with their exceedingly lofty crests. Four days, five days--a week, +passed. His strength was rapidly declining, his feet were bleeding. +Finally, one evening at sunset, they said to him:-- + +"Tucuman is fifty miles from here." + +He uttered a cry of joy, and hastened his steps, as though he had, in +that moment, regained all his lost vigor. But it was a brief illusion. +His forces suddenly abandoned him, and he fell upon the brink of a +ditch, exhausted. But his heart was beating with content. The heaven, +thickly sown with the most brilliant stars, had never seemed so +beautiful to him. He contemplated it, as he lay stretched out on the +grass to sleep, and thought that, perhaps, at that very moment, his +mother was gazing at him. And he said:-- + +"O my mother, where art thou? What art thou doing at this moment? Dost +thou think of thy son? Dost thou think of thy Marco, who is so near to +thee?" + +Poor Marco! If he could have seen in what a case his mother was at that +moment, he would have made a superhuman effort to proceed on his way, +and to reach her a few hours earlier. She was ill in bed, in a +ground-floor room of a lordly mansion, where dwelt the entire Mequinez +family. The latter had become very fond of her, and had helped her a +great deal. The poor woman had already been ailing when the engineer +Mequinez had been obliged unexpectedly to set out far from Buenos Ayres, +and she had not benefited at all by the fine air of Cordova. But then, +the fact that she had received no response to her letters from her +husband, nor from her cousin, the presentiment, always lively, of some +great misfortune, the continual anxiety in which she had lived, between +the parting and staying, expecting every day some bad news, had caused +her to grow worse out of all proportion. Finally, a very serious malady +had declared itself,--a strangled internal rupture. She had not risen +from her bed for a fortnight. A surgical operation was necessary to save +her life. And at precisely the moment when Marco was apostrophizing her, +the master and mistress of the house were standing beside her bed, +arguing with her, with great gentleness, to persuade her to allow +herself to be operated on, and she was persisting in her refusal, and +weeping. A good physician of Tucuman had come in vain a week before. + +"No, my dear master," she said; "do not count upon it; I have not the +strength to resist; I should die under the surgeon's knife. It is better +to allow me to die thus. I no longer cling to life. All is at an end for +me. It is better to die before learning what has happened to my family." + +And her master and mistress opposed, and said that she must take +courage, that she would receive a reply to the last letters, which had +been sent directly to Genoa; that she must allow the operation to be +performed; that it must be done for the sake of her family. But this +suggestion of her children only aggravated her profound discouragement, +which had for a long time prostrated her, with increasing anguish. At +these words she burst into tears. + +"O my sons! my sons!" she exclaimed, wringing her hands; "perhaps they +are no longer alive! It is better that I should die also. I thank you, +my good master and mistress; I thank you from my heart. But it is better +that I should die. At all events, I am certain that I shall not be cured +by this operation. Thanks for all your care, my good master and +mistress. It is useless for the doctor to come again after to-morrow. I +wish to die. It is my fate to die here. I have decided." + +And they began again to console her, and to repeat, "Don't say that," +and to take her hand and beseech her. + +But she closed her eyes then in exhaustion, and fell into a doze, so +that she appeared to be dead. And her master and mistress remained there +a little while, by the faint light of a taper, watching with great +compassion that admirable mother, who, for the sake of saving her +family, had come to die six thousand miles from her country, to die +after having toiled so hard, poor woman! and she was so honest, so good, +so unfortunate. + +Early on the morning of the following day, Marco, bent and limping, with +his bag on his back, entered the city of Tucuman, one of the youngest +and most flourishing towns of the Argentine Republic. It seemed to him +that he beheld again Cordova, Rosario, Buenos Ayres: there were the same +straight and extremely long streets, the same low white houses, but on +every hand there was a new and magnificent vegetation, a perfumed air, a +marvellous light, a sky limpid and profound, such as he had never seen +even in Italy. As he advanced through the streets, he experienced once +more the feverish agitation which had seized on him at Buenos Ayres; he +stared at the windows and doors of all the houses; he stared at all the +women who passed him, with an anxious hope that he might meet his +mother; he would have liked to question every one, but did not dare to +stop any one. All the people who were standing at their doors turned to +gaze after the poor, tattered, dusty lad, who showed that he had come +from afar. And he was seeking, among all these people, a countenance +which should inspire him with confidence, in order to direct to its +owner that tremendous query, when his eyes fell upon the sign of an inn +upon which was inscribed an Italian name. Inside were a man with +spectacles, and two women. He approached the door slowly, and summoning +up a resolute spirit, he inquired:-- + +"Can you tell me, signor, where the family Mequinez is?" + +"The engineer Mequinez?" asked the innkeeper in his turn. + +"The engineer Mequinez," replied the lad in a thread of a voice. + +"The Mequinez family is not in Tucuman," replied the innkeeper. + +A cry of desperate pain, like that of one who has been stabbed, formed +an echo to these words. + +The innkeeper and the women rose, and some neighbors ran up. + +"What's the matter? what ails you, my boy?" said the innkeeper, drawing +him into the shop and making him sit down. "The deuce! there's no reason +for despairing! The Mequinez family is not here, but at a little +distance off, a few hours from Tucuman." + +"Where? where?" shrieked Marco, springing up like one restored to life. + +"Fifteen miles from here," continued the man, "on the river, at +Saladillo, in a place where a big sugar factory is being built, and a +cluster of houses; Signor Mequinez's house is there; every one knows it: +you can reach it in a few hours." + +"I was there a month ago," said a youth, who had hastened up at the cry. + +Marco stared at him with wide-open eyes, and asked him hastily, turning +pale as he did so, "Did you see the servant of Signor Mequinez--the +Italian?" + +"The Genoese? Yes; I saw her." + +Marco burst into a convulsive sob, which was half a laugh and half a +sob. Then, with a burst of violent resolution: "Which way am I to go? +quick, the road! I shall set out instantly; show me the way!" + +"But it is a day's march," they all told him, in one breath. "You are +weary; you should rest; you can set out to-morrow." + +"Impossible! impossible!" replied the lad. "Tell me the way; I will not +wait another instant; I shall set out at once, were I to die on the +road!" + +On perceiving him so inflexible, they no longer opposed him. "May God +accompany you!" they said to him. "Look out for the path through the +forest. A fair journey to you, little Italian!" A man accompanied him +outside of the town, pointed out to him the road, gave him some counsel, +and stood still to watch him start. At the expiration of a few minutes, +the lad disappeared, limping, with his bag on his shoulders, behind the +thick trees which lined the road. + +That night was a dreadful one for the poor sick woman. She suffered +atrocious pain, which wrung from her shrieks that were enough to burst +her veins, and rendered her delirious at times. The women waited on her. +She lost her head. Her mistress ran in, from time to time, in affright. +All began to fear that, even if she had decided to allow herself to be +operated on, the doctor, who was not to come until the next day, would +have arrived too late. During the moments when she was not raving, +however, it was evident that her most terrible torture arose not from +her bodily pains, but from the thought of her distant family. +Emaciated, wasted away, with changed visage, she thrust her hands +through her hair, with a gesture of desperation, and shrieked:-- + +"My God! My God! To die so far away, to die without seeing them again! +My poor children, who will be left without a mother, my poor little +creatures, my poor darlings! My Marco, who is still so small! only as +tall as this, and so good and affectionate! You do not know what a boy +he was! If you only knew, signora! I could not detach him from my neck +when I set out; he sobbed in a way to move your pity; he sobbed; it +seemed as though he knew that he would never behold his poor mother +again. Poor Marco, my poor baby! I thought that my heart would break! +Ah, if I had only died then, died while they were bidding me farewell! +If I had but dropped dead! Without a mother, my poor child, he who loved +me so dearly, who needed me so much! without a mother, in misery, he +will be forced to beg! He, Marco, my Marco, will stretch out his hand, +famishing! O eternal God! No! I will not die! The doctor! Call him at +once I let him come, let him cut me, let him cleave my breast, let him +drive me mad; but let him save my life! I want to recover; I want to +live, to depart, to flee, to-morrow, at once! The doctor! Help! help!" + +And the women seized her hands and soothed her, and made her calm +herself little by little, and spoke to her of God and of hope. And then +she fell back again into a mortal dejection, wept with her hands +clutched in her gray hair, moaned like an infant, uttering a prolonged +lament, and murmuring from time to time:-- + +"O my Genoa! My house! All that sea!--O my Marco, my poor Marco! Where +is he now, my poor darling?" + +It was midnight; and her poor Marco, after having passed many hours on +the brink of a ditch, his strength exhausted, was then walking through a +forest of gigantic trees, monsters of vegetation, huge boles like the +pillars of a cathedral, which interlaced their enormous crests, silvered +by the moon, at a wonderful height. Vaguely, amid the half gloom, he +caught glimpses of myriads of trunks of all forms, upright, inclined, +contorted, crossed in strange postures of menace and of conflict; some +overthrown on the earth, like towers which had fallen bodily, and +covered with a dense and confused mass of vegetation, which seemed like +a furious throng, disputing the ground span by span; others collected in +great groups, vertical and serrated, like trophies of titanic lances, +whose tips touched the clouds; a superb grandeur, a prodigious disorder +of colossal forms, the most majestically terrible spectacle which +vegetable nature ever presented. + +At times he was overwhelmed by a great stupor. But his mind instantly +took flight again towards his mother. He was worn out, with bleeding +feet, alone in the middle of this formidable forest, where it was only +at long intervals that he saw tiny human habitations, which at the foot +of these trees seemed like the ant-hills, or some buffalo asleep beside +the road; he was exhausted, but he was not conscious of his exhaustion; +he was alone, and he felt no fear. The grandeur of the forest rendered +his soul grand; his nearness to his mother gave him the strength and the +hardihood of a man; the memory of the ocean, of the alarms and the +sufferings which he had undergone and vanquished, of the toil which he +had endured, of the iron constancy which he had displayed, caused him to +uplift his brow. All his strong and noble Genoese blood flowed back to +his heart in an ardent tide of joy and audacity. And a new thing took +place within him; while he had, up to this time, borne in his mind an +image of his mother, dimmed and paled somewhat by the two years of +absence, at that moment the image grew clear; he again beheld her face, +perfect and distinct, as he had not beheld it for a long time; he beheld +it close to him, illuminated, speaking; he again beheld the most +fleeting motions of her eyes, and of her lips, all her attitudes, all +the shades of her thoughts; and urged on by these pursuing +recollections, he hastened his steps; and a new affection, an +unspeakable tenderness, grew in him, grew in his heart, making sweet and +quiet tears to flow down his face; and as he advanced through the gloom, +he spoke to her, he said to her the words which he would murmur in her +ear in a little while more:-- + +"I am here, my mother; behold me here. I will never leave you again; we +will return home together, and I will remain always beside you on board +the ship, close beside you, and no one shall ever part me from you +again, no one, never more, so long as I have life!" + +And in the meantime he did not observe how the silvery light of the moon +was dying away on the summits of the gigantic trees in the delicate +whiteness of the dawn. + +At eight o'clock on that morning, the doctor from Tucuman, a young +Argentine, was already by the bedside of the sick woman, in company with +an assistant, endeavoring, for the last time, to persuade her to permit +herself to be operated on; and the engineer Mequinez and his wife added +their warmest persuasions to those of the former. But all was in vain. +The woman, feeling her strength exhausted, had no longer any faith in +the operation; she was perfectly certain that she should die under it, +or that she should only survive it a few hours, after having suffered in +vain pains that were more atrocious than those of which she should die +in any case. The doctor lingered to tell her once more:-- + +"But the operation is a safe one; your safety is certain, provided you +exercise a little courage! And your death is equally certain if you +refuse!" It was a sheer waste of words. + +"No," she replied in a faint voice, "I still have courage to die; but I +no longer have any to suffer uselessly. Leave me to die in peace." + +The doctor desisted in discouragement. No one said anything more. Then +the woman turned her face towards her mistress, and addressed to her her +last prayers in a dying voice. + +"Dear, good signora," she said with a great effort, sobbing, "you will +send this little money and my poor effects to my family--through the +consul. I hope that they may all be alive. My heart presages well in +these, my last moments. You will do me the favor to write--that I have +always thought of them, that I have always toiled for them--for my +children--that my sole grief was not to see them once more--but that I +died courageously--with resignation--blessing them; and that I recommend +to my husband--and to my elder son--the youngest, my poor Marco--that I +bore him in my heart until the last moment--" And suddenly she became +excited, and shrieked, as she clasped her hands: "My Marco, my baby, my +baby! My life!--" But on casting her tearful eyes round her, she +perceived that her mistress was no longer there; she had been secretly +called away. She sought her master; he had disappeared. No one remained +with her except the two nurses and the assistant. She heard in the +adjoining room the sound of hurried footsteps, a murmur of hasty and +subdued voices, and repressed exclamations. The sick woman fixed her +glazing eyes on the door, in expectation. At the end of a few minutes +she saw the doctor appear with an unusual expression on his face; then +her mistress and master, with their countenances also altered. All three +gazed at her with a singular expression, and exchanged a few words in a +low tone. She fancied that the doctor said to her mistress, "Better let +it be at once." She did not understand. + +"Josefa," said her mistress to the sick woman, in a trembling voice, "I +have some good news for you. Prepare your heart for good news." + +The woman observed her intently. + +"News," pursued the lady, with increasing agitation, "which will give +you great joy." + +The sick woman's eyes dilated. + +"Prepare yourself," continued her mistress, "to see a person--of whom +you are very fond." + +The woman raised her head with a vigorous movement, and began to gaze in +rapid succession, first at the lady and then at the door, with flashing +eyes. + +"A person," added the lady, turning pale, "who has just +arrived--unexpectedly." + +"Who is it?" shrieked the woman, with a strange and choked voice, like +that of a person in terror. An instant later she gave vent to a shrill +scream, sprang into a sitting posture in her bed, and remained +motionless, with starting eyes, and her hands pressed to her temples, as +in the presence of a supernatural apparition. + +Marco, tattered and dusty, stood there on the threshold, held back by +the doctor's hand on one arm. + +The woman uttered three shrieks: "God! God! My God!" + +Marco rushed forward; she stretched out to him her fleshless arms, and +straining him to her heart with the strength of a tiger, she burst into +a violent laugh, broken by deep, tearless sobs, which caused her to fall +back suffocating on her pillow. + +But she speedily recovered herself, and mad with joy, she shrieked as +she covered his head with kisses: "How do you come here? Why? Is it you? +How you have grown! Who brought you? Are you alone? You are not ill? It +is you, Marco! It is not a dream! My God! Speak to me!" + +Then she suddenly changed her tone: "No! Be silent! Wait!" And turning +to the doctor, she said with precipitation: "Quick, doctor! this +instant! I want to get well. I am ready. Do not lose a moment. Take +Marco away, so that he may not hear.--Marco, my love, it is nothing. I +will tell you about it. One more kiss. Go!--Here I am, doctor." + +Marco was taken away. The master, mistress, and women retired in haste; +the surgeon and his assistant remained behind, and closed the door. + +Signor Mequinez attempted to lead Marco to a distant room, but it was +impossible; he seemed rooted to the pavement. + +"What is it?" he asked. "What is the matter with my mother? What are +they doing to her?" + +And then Mequinez said softly, still trying to draw him away: "Here! +Listen to me. I will tell you now. Your mother is ill; she must undergo +a little operation; I will explain it all to you: come with me." + +"No," replied the lad, resisting; "I want to stay here. Explain it to me +here." + +The engineer heaped words on words, as he drew him away; the boy began +to grow terrified and to tremble. + +Suddenly an acute cry, like that of one wounded to the death, rang +through the whole house. + +The boy responded with another desperate shriek, "My mother is dead!" + +The doctor appeared on the threshold and said, "Your mother is saved." + +The boy gazed at him for a moment, and then flung himself at his feet, +sobbing, "Thanks, doctor!" + +But the doctor raised him with a gesture, saying: "Rise! It is you, you +heroic child, who have saved your mother!" + + +SUMMER. + + Wednesday, 24th. + +Marco, the Genoese, is the last little hero but one whose acquaintance +we shall make this year; only one remains for the month of June. There +are only two more monthly examinations, twenty-six days of lessons, six +Thursdays, and five Sundays. The air of the end of the year is already +perceptible. The trees of the garden, leafy and in blossom, cast a fine +shade on the gymnastic apparatus. The scholars are already dressed in +summer clothes. And it is beautiful, at the close of school and the exit +of the classes, to see how different everything is from what it was in +the months that are past. The long locks which touched the shoulders +have disappeared; all heads are closely shorn; bare legs and throats are +to be seen; little straw hats of every shape, with ribbons that descend +even on the backs of the wearers; shirts and neckties of every hue; all +the little children with something red or blue about them, a facing, a +border, a tassel, a scrap of some vivid color tacked on somewhere by the +mother, so that even the poorest may make a good figure; and many come +to school without any hats, as though they had run away from home. Some +wear the white gymnasium suit. There is one of Schoolmistress Delcati's +boys who is red from head to foot, like a boiled crab. Several are +dressed like sailors. + +But the finest of all is the little mason, who has donned a big straw +hat, which gives him the appearance of a half-candle with a shade over +it; and it is ridiculous to see him make his hare's face beneath it. +Coretti, too, has abandoned his catskin cap, and wears an old +travelling-cap of gray silk. Votini has a sort of Scotch dress, all +decorated; Crossi displays his bare breast; Precossi is lost inside of a +blue blouse belonging to the blacksmith-ironmonger. + +And Garoffi? Now that he has been obliged to discard the cloak beneath +which he concealed his wares, all his pockets are visible, bulging with +all sorts of huckster's trifles, and the lists of his lotteries force +themselves out. Now all his pockets allow their contents to be +seen,--fans made of half a newspaper, knobs of canes, darts to fire at +birds, herbs, and maybugs which creep out of his pockets and crawl +gradually over the jackets. + +Many of the little fellows carry bunches of flowers to the mistresses. +The mistresses are dressed in summer garments also, of cheerful tints; +all except the "little nun," who is always in black; and the mistress +with the red feather still has her red feather, and a knot of red ribbon +at her neck, all tumbled with the little paws of her scholars, who +always make her laugh and flee. + +It is the season, too, of cherry-trees, of butterflies, of music in the +streets, and of rambles in the country; many of the fourth grade run +away to bathe in the Po; all have their hearts already set on the +vacation; each day they issue forth from school more impatient and +content than the day before. Only it pains me to see Garrone in +mourning, and my poor mistress of the primary, who is thinner and whiter +than ever, and who coughs with ever-increasing violence. She walks all +bent over now, and salutes me so sadly! + + +POETRY. + + Friday, 26th. + + You are now beginning to comprehend the poetry of school, Enrico; + but at present you only survey the school from within. It will seem + much more beautiful and more poetic to you twenty years from now, + when you go thither to escort your own boys; and you will then + survey it from the outside, as I do. While waiting for school to + close, I wander about the silent street, in the vicinity of the + edifice, and lay my ear to the windows of the ground floor, which + are screened by Venetian blinds. At one window I hear the voice of + a schoolmistress saying:-- + + "Ah, what a shape for a _t_! It won't do, my dear boy! What would + your father say to it?" + + At the next window there resounds the heavy voice of a master, + which is saying:-- + + "I will buy fifty metres of stuff--at four lire and a half the + metre--and sell it again--" + + Further on there is the mistress with the red feather, who is + reading aloud:-- + + "Then Pietro Micca, with the lighted train of powder--" + + From the adjoining class-room comes the chirping of a thousand + birds, which signifies that the master has stepped out for a + moment. I proceed onward, and as I turn the corner, I hear a + scholar weeping, and the voice of the mistress reproving and + comforting him. From the lofty windows issue verses, names of great + and good men, fragments of sentences which inculcate virtue, the + love of country, and courage. Then ensue moments of silence, in + which one would declare that the edifice is empty, and it does not + seem possible that there should be seven hundred boys within; noisy + outbursts of hilarity become audible, provoked by the jest of a + master in a good humor. And the people who are passing halt, and + all direct a glance of sympathy towards that pleasing building, + which contains so much youth and so many hopes. Then a sudden dull + sound is heard, a clapping to of books and portfolios, a shuffling + of feet, a buzz which spreads from room to room, and from the lower + to the higher, as at the sudden diffusion of a bit of good news: it + is the beadle, who is making his rounds, announcing the dismissal + of school. And at that sound a throng of women, men, girls, and + youths press closer from this side and that of the door, waiting + for their sons, brothers, or grandchildren; while from the doors of + the class-rooms little boys shoot forth into the big hall, as from + a spout, seize their little capes and hats, creating a great + confusion with them on the floor, and dancing all about, until the + beadle chases them forth one after the other. And at length they + come forth, in long files, stamping their feet. And then from all + the relatives there descends a shower of questions: "Did you know + your lesson?--How much work did they give you?--What have you to do + for to-morrow!--When does the monthly examination come?" + + And then even the poor mothers who do not know how to read, open + the copy-books, gaze at the problems, and ask particulars: "Only + eight?--Ten with commendation?--Nine for the lesson?" + + And they grow uneasy, and rejoice, and interrogate the masters, and + talk of prospectuses and examinations. How beautiful all this is, + and how great and how immense is its promise for the world! + + THY FATHER. + + +THE DEAF-MUTE. + + Sunday, 28th. + +The month of May could not have had a better ending than my visit of +this morning. We heard a jingling of the bell, and all ran to see what +it meant. I heard my father say in a tone of astonishment:-- + +"You here, Giorgio?" + +Giorgio was our gardener in Chieri, who now has his family at Condove, +and who had just arrived from Genoa, where he had disembarked on the +preceding day, on his return from Greece, where he has been working on +the railway for the last three years. He had a big bundle in his arms. +He has grown a little older, but his face is still red and jolly. + +My father wished to have him enter; but he refused, and suddenly +inquired, assuming a serious expression: + +"How is my family? How is Gigia?" + +"She was well a few days ago," replied my mother. + +Giorgio uttered a deep sigh. + +"Oh, God be praised! I had not the courage to present myself at the +Deaf-mute Institution until I had heard about her. I will leave my +bundle here, and run to get her. It is three years since I have seen my +poor little daughter! Three years since I have seen any of my people!" + +My father said to me, "Accompany him." + +"Excuse me; one word more," said the gardener, from the landing. + +My father interrupted him, "And your affairs?" + +"All right," the other replied. "Thanks to God, I have brought back a +few soldi. But I wanted to inquire. Tell me how the education of the +little dumb girl is getting on. When I left her, she was a poor little +animal, poor thing! I don't put much faith in those colleges. Has she +learned how to make signs? My wife did write to me, to be sure, 'She is +learning to speak; she is making progress.' But I said to myself, What +is the use of her learning to talk if I don't know how to make the signs +myself? How shall we manage to understand each other, poor little thing? +That is well enough to enable them to understand each other, one +unfortunate to comprehend another unfortunate. How is she getting on, +then? How is she?" + +My father smiled, and replied:-- + +"I shall not tell you anything about it; you will see; go, go; don't +waste another minute!" + +We took our departure; the institute is close by. As we went along with +huge strides, the gardener talked to me, and grew sad. + +"Ah, my poor Gigia! To be born with such an infirmity! To think that I +have never heard her call me _father_; that she has never heard me call +her _my daughter_; that she has never either heard or uttered a single +word since she has been in the world! And it is lucky that a charitable +gentleman was found to pay the expenses of the institution. But that is +all--she could not enter there until she was eight years old. She has +not been at home for three years. She is now going on eleven. And she +has grown? Tell me, she has grown? She is in good spirits?" + +"You will see in a moment, you will see in a moment," I replied, +hastening my pace. + +"But where is this institution?" he demanded. "My wife went with her +after I was gone. It seems to me that it ought to be near here." + +We had just reached it. We at once entered the parlor. An attendant came +to meet us. + +"I am the father of Gigia Voggi," said the gardener; "give me my +daughter instantly." + +"They are at play," replied the attendant; "I will go and inform the +matron." And he hastened away. + +The gardener could no longer speak nor stand still; he stared at all +four walls, without seeing anything. + +The door opened; a teacher entered, dressed in black, holding a little +girl by the hand. + +Father and daughter gazed at one another for an instant; then flew into +each other's arms, uttering a cry. + +The girl was dressed in a white and reddish striped material, with a +gray apron. She is a little taller than I. She cried, and clung to her +father's neck with both arms. + +Her father disengaged himself, and began to survey her from head to +foot, panting as though he had run a long way; and he exclaimed: "Ah, +how she has grown! How pretty she has become! Oh, my dear, poor Gigia! +My poor mute child!--Are you her teacher, signora? Tell her to make +some of her signs to me; for I shall be able to understand something, +and then I will learn little by little. Tell her to make me understand +something with her gestures." + +The teacher smiled, and said in a low voice to the girl, "Who is this +man who has come to see you?" + +And the girl replied with a smile, in a coarse, strange, dissonant +voice, like that of a savage who was speaking for the first time in our +language, but with a distinct pronunciation, "He is my fa-ther." + +The gardener fell back a pace, and shrieked like a madman: "She speaks! +Is it possible! Is it possible! She speaks? Can you speak, my child? can +you speak? Say something to me: you can speak?" and he embraced her +afresh, and kissed her thrice on the brow. "But it is not with signs +that she talks, signora; it is not with her fingers? What does this +mean?" + +"No, Signor Voggi," rejoined the teacher, "it is not with signs. That +was the old way. Here we teach the new method, the oral method. How is +it that you did not know it?" + +"I knew nothing about it!" replied the gardener, lost in amazement. "I +have been abroad for the last three years. Oh, they wrote to me, and I +did not understand. I am a blockhead. Oh, my daughter, you understand +me, then? Do you hear my voice? Answer me: do you hear me? Do you hear +what I say?" + +"Why, no, my good man," said the teacher; "she does not hear your voice, +because she is deaf. She understands from the movements of your lips +what the words are that you utter; this is the way the thing is managed; +but she does not hear your voice any more than she does the words which +she speaks to you; she pronounces them, because we have taught her, +letter by letter, how she must place her lips and move her tongue, and +what effort she must make with her chest and throat, in order to emit a +sound." + +The gardener did not understand, and stood with his mouth wide open. He +did not yet believe it. + +"Tell me, Gigia," he asked his daughter, whispering in her ear, "are you +glad that your father has come back?" and he raised his face again, and +stood awaiting her reply. + +The girl looked at him thoughtfully, and said nothing. + +Her father was perturbed. + +The teacher laughed. Then she said: "My good man, she does not answer +you, because she did not see the movements of your lips: you spoke in +her ear! Repeat your question, keeping your face well before hers." + +The father, gazing straight in her face, repeated, "Are you glad that +your father has come back? that he is not going away again?" + +The girl, who had observed his lips attentively, seeking even to see +inside his mouth, replied frankly:-- + +"Yes, I am de-light-ed that you have re-turned, that you are not go-ing +a-way a-gain--nev-er a-gain." + +Her father embraced her impetuously, and then in great haste, in order +to make quite sure, he overwhelmed her with questions. + +"What is mamma's name?" + +"An-to-nia." + +"What is the name of your little sister?" + +"Ad-e-laide." + +"What is the name of this college?" + +"The Deaf-mute Insti-tution." + +"How many are two times ten?" + +"Twen-ty." + +While we thought that he was laughing for joy, he suddenly burst out +crying. But this was the result of joy also. + +"Take courage," said the teacher to him; "you have reason to rejoice, +not to weep. You see that you are making your daughter cry also. You are +pleased, then?" + +The gardener grasped the teacher's hand and kissed it two or three +times, saying: "Thanks, thanks, thanks! a hundred thanks, a thousand +thanks, dear Signora Teacher! and forgive me for not knowing how to say +anything else!" + +"But she not only speaks," said the teacher; "your daughter also knows +how to write. She knows how to reckon. She knows the names of all common +objects. She knows a little history and geography. She is now in the +regular class. When she has passed through the two remaining classes, +she will know much more. When she leaves here, she will be in a +condition to adopt a profession. We already have deaf-mutes who stand in +the shops to serve customers, and they perform their duties like any one +else." + +Again the gardener was astounded. It seemed as though his ideas were +becoming confused again. He stared at his daughter and scratched his +head. His face demanded another explanation. + +Then the teacher turned to the attendant and said to him:-- + +"Call a child of the preparatory class for me." + +The attendant returned, in a short time, with a deaf-mute of eight or +nine years, who had entered the institution a few days before. + +"This girl," said the mistress, "is one of those whom we are instructing +in the first elements. This is the way it is done. I want to make her +say _a_. Pay attention." + +The teacher opened her mouth, as one opens it to pronounce the vowel +_a_, and motioned to the child to open her mouth in the same manner. +Then the mistress made her a sign to emit her voice. She did so; but +instead of _a_, she pronounced _o_. + +"No," said the mistress, "that is not right." And taking the child's two +hands, she placed one of them on her own throat and the other on her +chest, and repeated, "_a_." + +The child felt with her hands the movements of the mistress's throat and +chest, opened her mouth again as before, and pronounced extremely well, +"_a_." + +In the same manner, the mistress made her pronounce _c_ and _d_, still +keeping the two little hands on her own throat and chest. + +"Now do you understand?" she inquired. + +The father understood; but he seemed more astonished than when he had +not understood. + +"And they are taught to speak in the same way?" he asked, after a moment +of reflection, gazing at the teacher. "You have the patience to teach +them to speak in that manner, little by little, and so many of them? one +by one--through years and years? But you are saints; that's what you +are! You are angels of paradise! There is not in the world a reward that +is worthy of you! What is there that I can say? Ah! leave me alone with +my daughter a little while now. Let me have her to myself for five +minutes." + +And drawing her to a seat apart he began to interrogate her, and she to +reply, and he laughed with beaming eyes, slapping his fists down on his +knees; and he took his daughter's hands, and stared at her, beside +himself with delight at hearing her, as though her voice had been one +which came from heaven; then he asked the teacher, "Would the Signor +Director permit me to thank him?" + +"The director is not here," replied the mistress; "but there is another +person whom you should thank. Every little girl here is given into the +charge of an older companion, who acts the part of sister or mother to +her. Your little girl has been intrusted to the care of a deaf-mute of +seventeen, the daughter of a baker, who is kind and very fond of her; +she has been assisting her for two years to dress herself every morning; +she combs her hair, she teaches her to sew, she mends her clothes, she +is good company for her.--Luigia, what is the name of your mamma in the +institute?" + +The girl smiled, and said, "Ca-te-rina Gior-dano." Then she said to her +father, "She is ve-ry, ve-ry good." + +The attendant, who had withdrawn at a signal from the mistress, returned +almost at once with a light-haired deaf-mute, a robust girl, with a +cheerful countenance, and also dressed in the red and white striped +stuff, with a gray apron; she paused at the door and blushed; then she +bent her head with a smile. She had the figure of a woman, but seemed +like a child. + +Giorgio's daughter instantly ran to her, took her by the arm, like a +child, and drew her to her father, saying, in her heavy voice, +"Ca-te-rina Gior-dano." + +"Ah, what a splendid girl!" exclaimed her father; and he stretched out +one hand to caress her, but drew it back again, and repeated, "Ah, what +a good girl! May God bless her, may He grant her all good fortune, all +consolations; may He make her and hers always happy, so good a girl is +she, my poor Gigia! It is an honest workingman, the poor father of a +family, who wishes you this with all his heart." + +The big girl caressed the little one, still keeping her face bent, and +smiling, and the gardener continued to gaze at her, as at a madonna. + +"You can take your daughter with you for the day," said the mistress. + +"Won't I take her, though!" rejoined the gardener. "I'll take her to +Condove, and fetch her back to-morrow morning. Think for a bit whether I +won't take her!" + +The girl ran off to dress. + +"It is three years since I have seen her!" repeated the gardener. "Now +she speaks! I will take her to Condove with me on the instant. But first +I shall take a ramble about Turin, with my deaf-mute on my arm, so that +all may see her, and take her to see some of my friends! Ah, what a +beautiful day! This is consolation indeed!--Here's your father's arm, my +Gigia." + +The girl, who had returned with a little mantle and cap on, took his +arm. + +"And thanks to all!" said the father, as he reached the threshold. +"Thanks to all, with my whole soul! I shall come back another time to +thank you all again." + +He stood for a moment in thought, then disengaged himself abruptly from +the girl, turned back, fumbling in his waistcoat with his hand, and +shouted like a man in a fury:-- + +"Come now, I am not a poor devil! So here, I leave twenty lire for the +institution,--a fine new gold piece." + +And with a tremendous bang, he deposited his gold piece on the table. + +"No, no, my good man," said the mistress, with emotion. "Take back your +money. I cannot accept it. Take it back. It is not my place. You shall +see about that when the director is here. But he will not accept +anything either; be sure of that. You have toiled too hard to earn it, +poor man. We shall be greatly obliged to you, all the same." + +"No; I shall leave it," replied the gardener, obstinately; "and then--we +will see." + +But the mistress put his money back in his pocket, without leaving him +time to reject it. And then he resigned himself with a shake of the +head; and then, wafting a kiss to the mistress and to the large girl, he +quickly took his daughter's arm again, and hurried with her out of the +door, saying:-- + +"Come, come, my daughter, my poor dumb child, my treasure!" + +And the girl exclaimed, in her harsh voice:-- + +"Oh, how beau-ti-ful the sun is!" + + + + +JUNE. + + +GARIBALDI. + + June 3d. + + To-morrow is the National Festival Day. + + TO-DAY is a day of national mourning. Garibaldi died last night. Do + you know who he is? He is the man who liberated ten millions of + Italians from the tyranny of the Bourbons. He died at the age of + seventy-five. He was born at Nice, the son of a ship captain. At + eight years of age, he saved a woman's life; at thirteen, he + dragged into safety a boat-load of his companions who were + shipwrecked; at twenty-seven, he rescued from the water at + Marseilles a drowning youth; at forty-one, he saved a ship from + burning on the ocean. He fought for ten years in America for the + liberty of a strange people; he fought in three wars against the + Austrians, for the liberation of Lombardy and Trentino; he defended + Rome from the French in 1849; he delivered Naples and Palermo in + 1860; he fought again for Rome in 1867; he combated with the + Germans in defence of France in 1870. He was possessed of the flame + of heroism and the genius of war. He was engaged in forty battles, + and won thirty-seven of them. + + When he was not fighting, he was laboring for his living, or he + shut himself up in a solitary island, and tilled the soil. He was + teacher, sailor, workman, trader, soldier, general, dictator. He + was simple, great, and good. He hated all oppressors, he loved all + peoples, he protected all the weak; he had no other aspiration than + good, he refused honors, he scorned death, he adored Italy. When he + uttered his war-cry, legions of valorous men hastened to him from + all quarters; gentlemen left their palaces, workmen their ships, + youths their schools, to go and fight in the sunshine of his glory. + In time of war he wore a red shirt. He was strong, blond, and + handsome. On the field of battle he was a thunder-bolt, in his + affections he was a child, in affliction a saint. Thousands of + Italians have died for their country, happy, if, when dying, they + saw him pass victorious in the distance; thousands would have + allowed themselves to be killed for him; millions have blessed and + will bless him. + + He is dead. The whole world mourns him. You do not understand him + now. But you will read of his deeds, you will constantly hear him + spoken of in the course of your life; and gradually, as you grow + up, his image will grow before you; when you become a man, you will + behold him as a giant; and when you are no longer in the world, + when your sons' sons and those who shall be born from them are no + longer among the living, the generations will still behold on high + his luminous head as a redeemer of the peoples, crowned by the + names of his victories as with a circlet of stars; and the brow and + the soul of every Italian will beam when he utters his name. + + THY FATHER. + + +THE ARMY. + + Sunday, 11th. + + The National Festival Day. Postponed for a week on + account of the death of Garibaldi. + +We have been to the Piazza Castello, to see the review of soldiers, who +defiled before the commandant of the army corps, between two vast lines +of people. As they marched past to the sound of flourishes from trumpets +and bands, my father pointed out to me the Corps and the glories of the +banners. First, the pupils of the Academy, those who will become +officers in the Engineers and the Artillery, about three hundred in +number, dressed in black, passed with the bold and easy elegance of +students and soldiers. After them defiled the infantry, the brigade of +Aosta, which fought at Goito and at San Martino, and the Bergamo +brigade, which fought at Castelfidardo, four regiments of them, company +after company, thousands of red aiguillettes, which seemed like so many +double and very long garlands of blood-colored flowers, extended and +agitated from the two ends, and borne athwart the crowd. After the +infantry, the soldiers of the Mining Corps advanced,--the workingmen of +war, with their plumes of black horse-tails, and their crimson bands; +and while these were passing, we beheld advancing behind them hundreds +of long, straight plumes, which rose above the heads of the spectators; +they were the mountaineers, the defenders of the portals of Italy, all +tall, rosy, and stalwart, with hats of Calabrian fashion, and revers of +a beautiful, bright green, the color of the grass on their native +mountains. The mountaineers were still marching past, when a quiver ran +through the crowd, and the _bersaglieri_, the old twelfth battalion, the +first who entered Rome through the breach at the Porta Pia, bronzed, +alert, brisk, with fluttering plumes, passed like a wave in a sea of +black, making the piazza ring with the shrill blasts of their trumpets, +which seemed shouts of joy. But their trumpeting was drowned by a broken +and hollow rumble, which announced the field artillery; and then the +latter passed in triumph, seated on their lofty caissons, drawn by three +hundred pairs of fiery horses,--those fine soldiers with yellow lacings, +and their long cannons of brass and steel gleaming on the light +carriages, as they jolted and resounded, and made the earth tremble. + +And then came the mountain artillery, slowly, gravely, beautiful in its +laborious and rude semblance, with its large soldiers, with its +powerful mules--that mountain artillery which carries dismay and death +wherever man can set his foot. And last of all, the fine regiment of the +Genoese cavalry, which had wheeled down like a whirlwind on ten fields +of battle, from Santa Lucia to Villafranca, passed at a gallop, with +their helmets glittering in the sun, their lances erect, their pennons +floating in the air, sparkling with gold and silver, filling the air +with jingling and neighing. + +"How beautiful it is!" I exclaimed. My father almost reproved me for +these words, and said to me:-- + +"You are not to regard the army as a fine spectacle. All these young +men, so full of strength and hope, may be called upon any day to defend +our country, and fall in a few hours, crushed to fragments by bullets +and grape-shot. Every time that you hear the cry, at a feast, 'Hurrah +for the army! hurrah for Italy!' picture to yourself, behind the +regiments which are passing, a plain covered with corpses, and inundated +with blood, and then the greeting to the army will proceed from the very +depths of your heart, and the image of Italy will appear to you more +severe and grand." + + +ITALY. + + Tuesday, 14th. + + Salute your country thus, on days of festival: "Italy, my country, + dear and noble land, where my father and my mother were born, and + where they will be buried, where I hope to live and die, where my + children will grow up and die; beautiful Italy, great and glorious + for many centuries, united and free for a few years; thou who didst + disseminate so great a light of intellect divine over the world, + and for whom so many valiant men have died on the battle-field, + and so many heroes on the gallows; august mother of three hundred + cities, and thirty millions of sons; I, a child, who do not + understand thee as yet, and who do not know thee in thy entirety, I + venerate and love thee with all my soul, and I am proud of having + been born of thee, and of calling myself thy son. I love thy + splendid seas and thy sublime mountains; I love thy solemn + monuments and thy immortal memories; I love thy glory and thy + beauty; I love and venerate the whole of thee as that beloved + portion of thee where I, for the first time, beheld the light and + heard thy name. I love the whole of thee, with a single affection + and with equal gratitude,--Turin the valiant, Genoa the superb, + Bologna the learned, Venice the enchanting, Milan the mighty; I + love you with the uniform reverence of a son, gentle Florence and + terrible Palermo, immense and beautiful Naples, marvellous and + eternal Rome. I love thee, my sacred country! And I swear that I + will love all thy sons like brothers; that I will always honor in + my heart thy great men, living and dead; that I will be an + industrious and honest citizen, constantly intent on ennobling + myself, in order to render myself worthy of thee, to assist with my + small powers in causing misery, ignorance, injustice, crime, to + disappear one day from thy face, so that thou mayest live and + expand tranquilly in the majesty of thy right and of thy strength. + I swear that I will serve thee, as it may be granted to me, with my + mind, with my arm, with my heart, humbly, ardently; and that, if + the day should dawn in which I should be called on to give my blood + for thee and my life, I will give my blood, and I will die, crying + thy holy name to heaven, and wafting my last kiss to thy blessed + banner." + + THY FATHER. + + + [Illustration: "WE DESCENDED, RUNNING AND SINGING."--Page 30.] + + +THIRTY-TWO DEGREES. + + Friday, 16th. + +During the five days which have passed since the National Festival, the +heat has increased by three degrees. We are in full summer now, and +begin to feel weary; all have lost their fine rosy color of springtime; +necks and legs are growing thin, heads droop and eyes close. Poor Nelli, +who suffers much from the heat, has turned the color of wax in the face; +he sometimes falls into a heavy sleep, with his head on his copy-book; +but Garrone is always watchful, and places an open book upright in front +of him, so that the master may not see him. Crossi rests his red head +against the bench in a certain way, so that it looks as though it had +been detached from his body and placed there separately. Nobis complains +that there are too many of us, and that we corrupt the air. Ah, what an +effort it costs now to study! I gaze through the windows at those +beautiful trees which cast so deep a shade, where I should be so glad to +run, and sadness and wrath overwhelm me at being obliged to go and shut +myself up among the benches. But then I take courage at the sight of my +kind mother, who is always watching me, scrutinizing me, when I return +from school, to see whether I am not pale; and at every page of my work +she says to me:-- + +"Do you still feel well?" and every morning at six, when she wakes me +for my lesson, "Courage! there are only so many days more: then you will +be free, and will get rested,--you will go to the shade of country +lanes." + +Yes, she is perfectly right to remind me of the boys who are working in +the fields in the full heat of the sun, or among the white sands of the +river, which blind and scorch them, and of those in the glass-factories, +who stand all day long motionless, with head bent over a flame of gas; +and all of them rise earlier than we do, and have no vacations. Courage, +then! And even in this respect, Derossi is at the head of all, for he +suffers neither from heat nor drowsiness; he is always wide awake, and +cheery, with his golden curls, as he was in the winter, and he studies +without effort, and keeps all about him alert, as though he freshened +the air with his voice. + +And there are two others, also, who are always awake and attentive: +stubborn Stardi, who pricks his face, to prevent himself from going to +sleep; and the more weary and heated he is, the more he sets his teeth, +and he opens his eyes so wide that it seems as though he wanted to eat +the teacher; and that barterer of a Garoffi, who is wholly absorbed in +manufacturing fans out of red paper, decorated with little figures from +match-boxes, which he sells at two centesimi apiece. + +But the bravest of all is Coretti; poor Coretti, who gets up at five +o'clock, to help his father carry wood! At eleven, in school, he can no +longer keep his eyes open, and his head droops on his breast. And +nevertheless, he shakes himself, punches himself on the back of the +neck, asks permission to go out and wash his face, and makes his +neighbors shake and pinch him. But this morning he could not resist, and +he fell into a leaden sleep. The master called him loudly; "Coretti!" He +did not hear. The master, irritated, repeated, "Coretti!" Then the son +of the charcoal-man, who lives next to him at home, rose and said:-- + +"He worked from five until seven carrying faggots." The teacher allowed +him to sleep on, and continued with the lesson for half an hour. Then he +went to Coretti's seat, and wakened him very, very gently, by blowing in +his face. On beholding the master in front of him, he started back in +alarm. But the master took his head in his hands, and said, as he kissed +him on the hair:-- + +"I am not reproving you, my son. Your sleep is not at all that of +laziness; it is the sleep of fatigue." + + +MY FATHER. + + Saturday, 17th. + + Surely, neither your comrade Coretti nor Garrone would ever have + answered their fathers as you answered yours this afternoon. + Enrico! How is it possible? You must promise me solemnly that this + shall never happen again so long as I live. Every time that an + impertinent reply flies to your lips at a reproof from your father, + think of that day which will infallibly come when he will call you + to his bedside to tell you, "Enrico, I am about to leave you." Oh, + my son, when you hear his voice for the last time, and for a long + while afterwards, when you weep alone in his deserted room, in the + midst of those books which he will never open again, then, on + recalling that you have at times been wanting in respect to him, + you, too, will ask yourself, "How is it possible?" Then you will + understand that he has always been your best friend, that when he + was constrained to punish you, it caused him more suffering than it + did you, and that he never made you weep except for the sake of + doing you good; and then you will repent, and you will kiss with + tears that desk at which he worked so much, at which he wore out + his life for his children. You do not understand now; he hides from + you all of himself except his kindness and his love. You do not + know that he is sometimes so broken down with toil that he thinks + he has only a few more days to live, and that at such moments he + talks only of you; he has in his heart no other trouble than that + of leaving you poor and without protection. + + And how often, when meditating on this, does he enter your chamber + while you are asleep, and stand there, lamp in hand, gazing at you; + and then he makes an effort, and weary and sad as he is, he returns + to his labor; and neither do you know that he often seeks you and + remains with you because he has a bitterness in his heart, sorrows + which attack all men in the world, and he seeks you as a friend, to + obtain consolation himself and forgetfulness, and he feels the need + of taking refuge in your affection, to recover his serenity and his + courage: think, then, what must be his sorrow, when instead of + finding in you affection, he finds coldness and disrespect! Never + again stain yourself with this horrible ingratitude! Reflect, that + were you as good as a saint, you could never repay him sufficiently + for what he has done and for what he is constantly doing for you. + And reflect, also, we cannot count on life; a misfortune might + remove your father while you are still a boy,--in two years, in + three months, to-morrow. + + Ah, my poor Enrico, when you see all about you changing, how empty, + how desolate the house will appear, with your poor mother clothed + in black! Go, my son, go to your father; he is in his room at work; + go on tiptoe, so that he may not hear you enter; go and lay your + forehead on his knees, and beseech him to pardon and to bless you. + + THY MOTHER. + + +IN THE COUNTRY. + + Monday, 19th. + +My good father forgave me, even on this occasion, and allowed me to go +on an expedition to the country, which had been arranged on Wednesday, +with the father of Coretti, the wood-peddler. + +We were all in need of a mouthful of hill air. It was a festival day. +We met yesterday at two o'clock in the place of the Statuto, Derossi, +Garrone, Garoffi, Precossi, Coretti, father and son, and I, with our +provisions of fruit, sausages, and hard-boiled eggs; we had also leather +bottles and tin cups. Garrone carried a gourd filled with white wine; +Coretti, his father's soldier-canteen, full of red wine; and little +Precossi, in the blacksmith's blouse, held under his arm a +two-kilogramme loaf. + +We went in the omnibus as far as Gran Madre di Dio, and then off, as +briskly as possible, to the hills. How green, how shady, how fresh it +was! We rolled over and over in the grass, we dipped our faces in the +rivulets, we leaped the hedges. The elder Coretti followed us at a +distance, with his jacket thrown over his shoulders, smoking his clay +pipe, and from time to time threatening us with his hand, to prevent our +tearing holes in our trousers. + +Precossi whistled; I had never heard him whistle before. The younger +Coretti did the same, as he went along. That little fellow knows +how to make everything with his jack-knife a finger's length +long,--mill-wheels, forks, squirts; and he insisted on carrying the +other boys' things, and he was loaded down until he was dripping with +perspiration, but he was still as nimble as a goat. Derossi halted every +moment to tell us the names of the plants and insects. I don't +understand how he manages to know so many things. And Garrone nibbled at +his bread in silence; but he no longer attacks it with the cheery bites +of old, poor Garrone! now that he has lost his mother. But he is always +as good as bread himself. When one of us ran back to obtain the momentum +for leaping a ditch, he ran to the other side, and held out his hands to +us; and as Precossi was afraid of cows, having been tossed by one when +a child, Garrone placed himself in front of him every time that we +passed any. We mounted up to Santa Margherita, and then went down the +decline by leaps, rolls, and slides. Precossi tumbled into a thorn-bush, +and tore a hole in his blouse, and stood there overwhelmed with shame, +with the strip dangling; but Garoffi, who always has pins in his jacket, +fixed it so that it was not perceptible, while the other kept saying, +"Excuse me, excuse me," and then he set out to run once more. + +Garoffi did not waste his time on the way; he picked salad herbs and +snails, and put every stone that glistened in the least into his pocket, +supposing that there was gold and silver in it. And on we went, running, +rolling, and climbing through the shade and in the sun, up and down, +through all the lanes and cross-roads, until we arrived dishevelled and +breathless at the crest of a hill, where we seated ourselves to take our +lunch on the grass. + +We could see an immense plain, and all the blue Alps with their white +summits. We were dying of hunger; the bread seemed to be melting. The +elder Coretti handed us our portions of sausage on gourd leaves. And +then we all began to talk at once about the teachers, the comrades who +had not been able to come, and the examinations. Precossi was rather +ashamed to eat, and Garrone thrust the best bits of his share into his +mouth by force. Coretti was seated next his father, with his legs +crossed; they seem more like two brothers than father and son, when seen +thus together, both rosy and smiling, with those white teeth of theirs. +The father drank with zest, emptying the bottles and the cups which we +left half finished, and said:-- + +"Wine hurts you boys who are studying; it is the wood-sellers who need +it." Then he grasped his son by the nose, and shook him, saying to us, +"Boys, you must love this fellow, for he is a flower of a man of honor; +I tell you so myself!" And then we all laughed, except Garrone. And he +went on, as he drank, "It's a shame, eh! now you are all good friends +together, and in a few years, who knows, Enrico and Derossi will be +lawyers or professors or I don't know what, and the other four of you +will be in shops or at a trade, and the deuce knows where, and +then--good night comrades!" + +"Nonsense!" rejoined Derossi; "for me, Garrone will always be Garrone, +Precossi will always be Precossi, and the same with all the others, were +I to become the emperor of Russia: where they are, there I shall go +also." + +"Bless you!" exclaimed the elder Coretti, raising his flask; "that's the +way to talk, by Heavens! Touch your glass here! Hurrah for brave +comrades, and hurrah for school, which makes one family of you, of those +who have and those who have not!" + +We all clinked his flask with the skins and the cups, and drank for the +last time. + +"Hurrah for the fourth of the 49th!" he cried, as he rose to his feet, +and swallowed the last drop; "and if you have to do with squadrons too, +see that you stand firm, like us old ones, my lads!" + +It was already late. We descended, running and singing, and walking long +distances all arm in arm, and we arrived at the Po as twilight fell, and +thousands of fireflies were flitting about. And we only parted in the +Piazza dello Statuto after having agreed to meet there on the following +Sunday, and go to the Vittorio Emanuele to see the distribution of +prizes to the graduates of the evening schools. + +What a beautiful day! How happy I should have been on my return home, +had I not encountered my poor schoolmistress! I met her coming down the +staircase of our house, almost in the dark, and, as soon as she +recognized me, she took both my hands, and whispered in my ear, "Good +by, Enrico; remember me!" I perceived that she was weeping. I went up +and told my mother about it. + +"I have just met my schoolmistress."--"She was just going to bed," +replied my mother, whose eyes were red. And then she added very sadly, +gazing intently at me, "Your poor teacher--is very ill." + + +THE DISTRIBUTION OF PRIZES TO THE WORKINGMEN. + + Sunday, 25th. + +As we had agreed, we all went together to the Theatre Vittorio Emanuele, +to view the distribution of prizes to the workingmen. The theatre was +adorned as on the 14th of March, and thronged, but almost wholly with +the families of workmen; and the pit was occupied with the male and +female pupils of the school of choral singing. These sang a hymn to the +soldiers who had died in the Crimea; which was so beautiful that, when +it was finished, all rose and clapped and shouted, so that the song had +to be repeated from the beginning. And then the prize-winners began +immediately to march past the mayor, the prefect, and many others, who +presented them with books, savings-bank books, diplomas, and medals. In +one corner of the pit I espied the little mason, sitting beside his +mother; and in another place there was the head-master; and behind him, +the red head of my master of the second grade. + +The first to defile were the pupils of the evening drawing classes--the +goldsmiths, engravers, lithographers, and also the carpenters and +masons; then those of the commercial school; then those of the Musical +Lyceum, among them several girls, workingwomen, all dressed in festal +attire, who were saluted with great applause, and who laughed. Last came +the pupils of the elementary evening schools, and then it began to be a +beautiful sight. They were of all ages, of all trades, and dressed in +all sorts of ways,--men with gray hair, factory boys, artisans with big +black beards. The little ones were at their ease; the men, a little +embarrassed. The people clapped the oldest and the youngest, but none of +the spectators laughed, as they did at our festival: all faces were +attentive and serious. + +Many of the prize-winners had wives and children in the pit, and there +were little children who, when they saw their father pass across the +stage, called him by name at the tops of their voices, and signalled to +him with their hands, laughing violently. Peasants passed, and porters; +they were from the Buoncompagni School. From the Cittadella School there +was a bootblack whom my father knew, and the prefect gave him a diploma. +After him I saw approaching a man as big as a giant, whom I fancied that +I had seen several times before. It was the father of the little mason, +who had won the second prize. I remembered when I had seen him in the +garret, at the bedside of his sick son, and I immediately sought out his +son in the pit. Poor little mason! he was staring at his father with +beaming eyes, and, in order to conceal his emotion, he made his hare's +face. At that moment I heard a burst of applause, and I glanced at the +stage: a little chimney-sweep stood there, with a clean face, but in his +working-clothes, and the mayor was holding him by the hand and talking +to him. + +After the chimney-sweep came a cook; then came one of the city sweepers, +from the Raineri School, to get a prize. I felt I know not what in my +heart,--something like a great affection and a great respect, at the +thought of how much those prizes had cost all those workingmen, fathers +of families, full of care; how much toil added to their labors, how many +hours snatched from their sleep, of which they stand in such great need, +and what efforts of intelligences not habituated to study, and of huge +hands rendered clumsy with work! + +A factory boy passed, and it was evident that his father had lent him +his jacket for the occasion, for his sleeves hung down so that he was +forced to turn them back on the stage, in order to receive his prize: +and many laughed; but the laugh was speedily stifled by the applause. +Next came an old man with a bald head and a white beard. Several +artillery soldiers passed, from among those who attended evening school +in our schoolhouse; then came custom-house guards and policemen, from +among those who guard our schools. + +At the conclusion, the pupils of the evening schools again sang the hymn +to the dead in the Crimea, but this time with so much dash, with a +strength of affection which came so directly from the heart, that the +audience hardly applauded at all, and all retired in deep emotion, +slowly and noiselessly. + +In a few moments the whole street was thronged. In front of the +entrance to the theatre was the chimney-sweep, with his prize book bound +in red, and all around were gentlemen talking to him. Many exchanged +salutations from the opposite side of the street,--workmen, boys, +policemen, teachers. My master of the second grade came out in the midst +of the crowd, between two artillery men. And there were workmen's wives +with babies in their arms, who held in their tiny hands their father's +diploma, and exhibited it to the crowd in their pride. + + +MY DEAD SCHOOLMISTRESS. + + Tuesday, 27th. + +While we were at the Theatre Vittorio Emanuele, my poor schoolmistress +died. She died at two o'clock, a week after she had come to see my +mother. The head-master came to the school yesterday morning to announce +it to us; and he said:-- + +"Those of you who were her pupils know how good she was, how she loved +her boys: she was a mother to them. Now, she is no more. For a long time +a terrible malady has been sapping her life. If she had not been obliged +to work to earn her bread, she could have taken care of herself, and +perhaps recovered. At all events, she could have prolonged her life for +several months, if she had procured a leave of absence. But she wished +to remain among her boys to the very last day. On the evening of +Saturday, the seventeenth, she took leave of them, with the certainty +that she should never see them again. She gave them good advice, kissed +them all, and went away sobbing. No one will ever behold her again. +Remember her, my boys!" + +Little Precossi, who had been one of her pupils in the upper primary, +dropped his head on his desk and began to cry. + +Yesterday afternoon, after school, we all went together to the house of +the dead woman, to accompany her to church. There was a hearse in the +street, with two horses, and many people were waiting, and conversing in +a low voice. There was the head-master, all the masters and mistresses +from our school, and from the other schoolhouses where she had taught in +bygone years. There were nearly all the little children in her classes, +led by the hand by their mothers, who carried tapers; and there were a +very great many from the other classes, and fifty scholars from the +Baretti School, some with wreaths in their hands, some with bunches of +roses. A great many bouquets of flowers had already been placed on the +hearse, upon which was fastened a large wreath of acacia, with an +inscription in black letters: _The old pupils of the fourth grade to +their mistress_. And under the large wreath a little one was suspended, +which the babies had brought. Among the crowd were visible many +servant-women, who had been sent by their mistresses with candles; and +there were also two serving-men in livery, with lighted torches; and a +wealthy gentleman, the father of one of the mistress's scholars, had +sent his carriage, lined with blue satin. All were crowded together near +the door. Several girls were wiping away their tears. + +We waited for a while in silence. At length the casket was brought out. +Some of the little ones began to cry loudly when they saw the coffin +slid into the hearse, and one began to shriek, as though he had only +then comprehended that his mistress was dead, and he was seized with +such a convulsive fit of sobbing, that they were obliged to carry him +away. + +The procession got slowly into line and set out. First came the +daughters of the Ritiro della Concezione, dressed in green; then the +daughters of Maria, all in white, with a blue ribbon; then the priests; +and behind the hearse, the masters and mistresses, the tiny scholars of +the upper primary, and all the others; and, at the end of all, the +crowd. People came to the windows and to the doors, and on seeing all +those boys, and the wreath, they said, "It is a schoolmistress." Even +some of the ladies who accompanied the smallest children wept. + +When the church was reached, the casket was removed from the hearse, and +carried to the middle of the nave, in front of the great altar: the +mistresses laid their wreaths on it, the children covered it with +flowers, and the people all about, with lighted candles in their hands, +began to chant the prayers in the vast and gloomy church. Then, all of a +sudden, when the priest had said the last _amen_, the candles were +extinguished, and all went away in haste, and the mistress was left +alone. Poor mistress, who was so kind to me, who had so much patience, +who had toiled for so many years! She has left her little books to her +scholars, and everything which she possessed,--to one an inkstand, to +another a little picture; and two days before her death, she said to the +head-master that he was not to allow the smallest of them to go to her +funeral, because she did not wish them to cry. + +She has done good, she has suffered, she is dead! Poor mistress, left +alone in that dark church! Farewell! Farewell forever, my kind friend, +sad and sweet memory of my infancy! + + +THANKS. + + Wednesday, 28th. + +My poor schoolmistress wanted to finish her year of school: she departed +only three days before the end of the lessons. Day after to-morrow we go +once more to the schoolroom to hear the reading of the monthly story, +_Shipwreck_, and then--it is over. On Saturday, the first of July, the +examinations begin. And then another year, the fourth, is past! And if +my mistress had not died, it would have passed well. + +I thought over all that I had known on the preceding October, and it +seems to me that I know a good deal more: I have so many new things in +my mind; I can say and write what I think better than I could then; I +can also do the sums of many grown-up men who know nothing about it, and +help them in their affairs; and I understand much more: I understand +nearly everything that I read. I am satisfied. But how many people have +urged me on and helped me to learn, one in one way, and another in +another, at home, at school, in the street,--everywhere where I have +been and where I have seen anything! And now, I thank you all. I thank +you first, my good teacher, for having been so indulgent and +affectionate with me; for you every new acquisition of mine was a labor, +for which I now rejoice and of which I am proud. I thank you, Derossi, +my admirable companion, for your prompt and kind explanations, for you +have made me understand many of the most difficult things, and overcome +stumbling-blocks at examinations; and you, too, Stardi, you brave and +strong boy, who have showed me how a will of iron succeeds in +everything: and you, kind, generous Garrone, who make all those who +know you kind and generous too; and you too, Precossi and Coretti, who +have given me an example of courage in suffering, and of serenity in +toil, I render thanks to you: I render thanks to all the rest. But above +all, I thank thee, my father, thee, my first teacher, my first friend, +who hast given me so many wise counsels, and hast taught me so many +things, whilst thou wert working for me, always concealing thy sadness +from me, and seeking in all ways to render study easy, and life +beautiful to me; and thee, sweet mother, my beloved and blessed guardian +angel, who hast tasted all my joys, and suffered all my bitternesses, +who hast studied, worked, and wept with me, with one hand caressing my +brow, and with the other pointing me to heaven. I kneel before you, as +when I was a little child; I thank you for all the tenderness which you +have instilled into my mind through twelve years of sacrifices and of +love. + + +SHIPWRECK. + +(_Last Monthly Story._) + +One morning in the month of December, several years ago, there sailed +from the port of Liverpool a huge steamer, which had on board two +hundred persons, including a crew of sixty. The captain and nearly all +the sailors were English. Among the passengers there were several +Italians,--three gentlemen, a priest, and a company of musicians. The +steamer was bound for the island of Malta. The weather was threatening. + +Among the third-class passengers forward, was an Italian lad of a dozen +years, small for his age, but robust; a bold, handsome, austere face, +of Sicilian type. He was alone near the fore-mast, seated on a coil of +cordage, beside a well-worn valise, which contained his effects, and +upon which he kept a hand. His face was brown, and his black and wavy +hair descended to his shoulders. He was meanly clad, and had a tattered +mantle thrown over his shoulders, and an old leather pouch on a +cross-belt. He gazed thoughtfully about him at the passengers, the ship, +the sailors who were running past, and at the restless sea. He had the +appearance of a boy who has recently issued from a great family +sorrow,--the face of a child, the expression of a man. + +A little after their departure, one of the steamer's crew, an Italian +with gray hair, made his appearance on the bow, holding by the hand a +little girl; and coming to a halt in front of the little Sicilian, he +said to him:-- + +"Here's a travelling companion for you, Mario." Then he went away. + +The girl seated herself on the pile of cordage beside the boy. + +They surveyed each other. + +"Where are you going?" asked the Sicilian. + +The girl replied: "To Malta on the way of Naples." Then she added: "I am +going to see my father and mother, who are expecting me. My name is +Giulietta Faggiani." + +The boy said nothing. + +After the lapse of a few minutes, he drew some bread from his pouch, and +some dried fruit; the girl had some biscuits: they began to eat. + +"Look sharp there!" shouted the Italian sailor, as he passed rapidly; "a +lively time is at hand!" + +The wind continued to increase, the steamer pitched heavily; but the two +children, who did not suffer from seasickness, paid no heed to it. The +little girl smiled. She was about the same age as her companion, but was +considerably taller, brown of complexion, slender, somewhat sickly, and +dressed more than modestly. Her hair was short and curling, she wore a +red kerchief over her head, and two hoops of silver in her ears. + +As they ate, they talked about themselves and their affairs. The boy had +no longer either father or mother. The father, an artisan, had died a +few days previously in Liverpool, leaving him alone; and the Italian +consul had sent him back to his country, to Palermo, where he had still +some distant relatives left. The little girl had been taken to London, +the year before, by a widowed aunt, who was very fond of her, and to +whom her parents--poor people--had given her for a time, trusting in a +promise of an inheritance; but the aunt had died a few months later, run +over by an omnibus, without leaving a centesimo; and then she too had +had recourse to the consul, who had shipped her to Italy. Both had been +recommended to the care of the Italian sailor.--"So," concluded the +little maid, "my father and mother thought that I would return rich, and +instead I am returning poor. But they will love me all the same. And so +will my brothers. I have four, all small. I am the oldest at home. I +dress them. They will be greatly delighted to see me. They will come in +on tiptoe--The sea is ugly!" + +Then she asked the boy: "And are you going to stay with your relatives?" + +"Yes--if they want me." + +"Do not they love you?" + +"I don't know." + +"I shall be thirteen at Christmas," said the girl. + +Then they began to talk about the sea, and the people on board around +them. They remained near each other all day, exchanging a few words now +and then. The passengers thought them brother and sister. The girl +knitted at a stocking, the boy meditated, the sea continued to grow +rougher. At night, as they parted to go to bed, the girl said to Mario, +"Sleep well." + +"No one will sleep well, my poor children!" exclaimed the Italian sailor +as he ran past, in answer to a call from the captain. The boy was on the +point of replying with a "good night" to his little friend, when an +unexpected dash of water dealt him a violent blow, and flung him against +a seat. + +"My dear, you are bleeding!" cried the girl, flinging herself upon him. +The passengers who were making their escape below, paid no heed to them. +The child knelt down beside Mario, who had been stunned by the blow, +wiped the blood from his brow, and pulling the red kerchief from her +hair, she bound it about his head, then pressed his head to her breast +in order to knot the ends, and thus received a spot of blood on her +yellow bodice just above the girdle. Mario shook himself and rose: + +"Are you better?" asked the girl. + +"I no longer feel it," he replied. + +"Sleep well," said Giulietta. + +"Good night," responded Mario. And they descended two neighboring sets +of steps to their dormitories. + +The sailor's prediction proved correct. Before they could get to sleep, +a frightful tempest had broken loose. It was like the sudden onslaught +of furious great horses, which in the course of a few minutes split one +mast, and carried away three boats which were suspended to the falls, +and four cows on the bow, like leaves. On board the steamer there arose +a confusion, a terror, an uproar, a tempest of shrieks, wails, and +prayers, sufficient to make the hair stand on end. The tempest continued +to increase in fury all night. At daybreak it was still increasing. The +formidable waves dashing the craft transversely, broke over the deck, +and smashed, split, and hurled everything into the sea. The platform +which screened the engine was destroyed, and the water dashed in with a +terrible roar; the fires were extinguished; the engineers fled; huge and +impetuous streams forced their way everywhere. A voice of thunder +shouted: + +"To the pumps!" It was the captain's voice. The sailors rushed to the +pumps. But a sudden burst of the sea, striking the vessel on the stern, +demolished bulwarks and hatchways, and sent a flood within. + +All the passengers, more dead than alive, had taken refuge in the grand +saloon. At last the captain made his appearance. + +"Captain! Captain!" they all shrieked in concert. "What is taking place? +Where are we? Is there any hope! Save us!" + +The captain waited until they were silent, then said coolly; "Let us be +resigned." + +One woman uttered a cry of "Mercy!" No one else could give vent to a +sound. Terror had frozen them all. A long time passed thus, in a silence +like that of the grave. All gazed at each other with blanched faces. The +sea continued to rage and roar. The vessel pitched heavily. At one +moment the captain attempted to launch one life-boat; five sailors +entered it; the boat sank; the waves turned it over, and two of the +sailors were drowned, among them the Italian: the others contrived with +difficulty to catch hold of the ropes and draw themselves up again. + +After this, the sailors themselves lost all courage. Two hours later, +the vessel was sunk in the water to the height of the port-holes. + +A terrible spectacle was presented meanwhile on the deck. Mothers +pressed their children to their breasts in despair; friends exchanged +embraces and bade each other farewell; some went down into the cabins +that they might die without seeing the sea. One passenger shot himself +in the head with a pistol, and fell headlong down the stairs to the +cabin, where he expired. Many clung frantically to each other; women +writhed in horrible convulsions. There was audible a chorus of sobs, of +infantile laments, of strange and piercing voices; and here and there +persons were visible motionless as statues, in stupor, with eyes dilated +and sightless,--faces of corpses and madmen. The two children, Giulietta +and Mario, clung to a mast and gazed at the sea with staring eyes, as +though senseless. + +The sea had subsided a little; but the vessel continued to sink slowly. +Only a few minutes remained to them. + +"Launch the long-boat!" shouted the captain. + +A boat, the last that remained, was thrown into the water, and fourteen +sailors and three passengers descended into it. + +The captain remained on board. + +"Come down with us!" they shouted to him from below. + +"I must die at my post," replied the captain. + +"We shall meet a vessel," the sailors cried to him; "we shall be saved! +Come down! you are lost!" + +"I shall remain." + +"There is room for one more!" shouted the sailors, turning to the other +passengers. "A woman!" + +A woman advanced, aided by the captain; but on seeing the distance at +which the boat lay, she did not feel sufficient courage to leap down, +and fell back upon the deck. The other women had nearly all fainted, and +were as dead. + +"A boy!" shouted the sailors. + +At that shout, the Sicilian lad and his companion, who had remained up +to that moment petrified as by a supernatural stupor, were suddenly +aroused again by a violent instinct to save their lives. They detached +themselves simultaneously from the mast, and rushed to the side of the +vessel, shrieking in concert: "Take me!" and endeavoring in turn, to +drive the other back, like furious beasts. + +"The smallest!" shouted the sailors. "The boat is overloaded! The +smallest!" + +On hearing these words, the girl dropped her arms, as though struck by +lightning, and stood motionless, staring at Mario with lustreless eyes. + +Mario looked at her for a moment,--saw the spot of blood on her +bodice,--remembered--The gleam of a divine thought flashed across his +face. + +"The smallest!" shouted the sailors in chorus, with imperious +impatience. "We are going!" + +And then Mario, with a voice which no longer seemed his own, cried: "She +is the lighter! It is for you, Giulietta! You have a father and mother! +I am alone! I give you my place! Go down!" + +"Throw her into the sea!" shouted the sailors. + +Mario seized Giulietta by the body, and threw her into the sea. + +The girl uttered a cry and made a splash; a sailor seized her by the +arm, and dragged her into the boat. + +The boy remained at the vessel's side, with his head held high, his hair +streaming in the wind,--motionless, tranquil, sublime. + +The boat moved off just in time to escape the whirlpool which the vessel +produced as it sank, and which threatened to overturn it. + +Then the girl, who had remained senseless until that moment, raised her +eyes to the boy, and burst into a storm of tears. + +"Good by, Mario!" she cried, amid her sobs, with her arms outstretched +towards him. "Good by! Good by! Good by!" + +"Good by!" replied the boy, raising his hand on high. + +The boat went swiftly away across the troubled sea, beneath the dark +sky. No one on board the vessel shouted any longer. The water was +already lapping the edge of the deck. + +Suddenly the boy fell on his knees, with his hands folded and his eyes +raised to heaven. + +The girl covered her face. + +When she raised her head again, she cast a glance over the sea: the +vessel was no longer there. + + + + +JULY. + + +THE LAST PAGE FROM MY MOTHER. + + Saturday, 1st. + + SO the year has come to an end, Enrico, and it is well that you + should be left on the last day with the image of the sublime child, + who gave his life for his friend. You are now about to part from + your teachers and companions, and I must impart to you some sad + news. The separation will last not three months, but forever. Your + father, for reasons connected with his profession, is obliged to + leave Turin, and we are all to go with him. + + We shall go next autumn. You will have to enter a new school. You + are sorry for this, are you not? For I am sure that you love your + old school, where twice a day, for the space of four years, you + have experienced the pleasure of working, where for so long a time, + you have seen, at stated hours, the same boys, the same teachers, + the same parents, and your own father or mother awaiting you with a + smile; your old school, where your mind first unclosed, where you + have found so many kind companions, where every word that you have + heard has had your good for its object, and where you have not + suffered a single displeasure which has not been useful to you! + Then bear this affection with you, and bid these boys a hearty + farewell. Some of them will experience misfortunes, they will soon + lose their fathers and mothers; others will die young; others, + perhaps, will nobly shed their blood in battle; many will become + brave and honest workmen, the fathers of honest and industrious + workmen like themselves; and who knows whether there may not also + be among them one who will render great services to his country, + and make his name glorious. Then part from them with affection; + leave a portion of your soul here, in this great family into which + you entered as a baby, and from which you emerge a young lad, and + which your father and mother loved so dearly, because you were so + much beloved by it. + + School is a mother, my Enrico. It took you from my arms when you + could hardly speak, and now it returns you to me, strong, good, + studious; blessings on it, and may you never forget it more, my + son. Oh, it is impossible that you should forget it! You will + become a man, you will make the tour of the world, you will see + immense cities and wonderful monuments, and you will remember many + among them; but that modest white edifice, with those closed + shutters and that little garden, where the first flower of your + intelligence budded, you will perceive until the last day of your + life, as I shall always behold the house in which I heard your + voice for the first time. + + THY MOTHER. + + +THE EXAMINATIONS. + + Tuesday, 4th. + +Here are the examinations at last! Nothing else is to be heard under +discussion, in the streets in the vicinity of the school, from boys, +fathers, mothers, and even tutors; examinations, points, themes, +averages, dismissals, promotions: all utter the same words. Yesterday +morning there was composition; this morning there is arithmetic. It was +touching to see all the parents, as they conducted their sons to school, +giving them their last advice in the street, and many mothers +accompanied their sons to their seats, to see whether the inkstand was +filled, and to try their pens, and they still continued to hover round +the entrance, and to say: + +"Courage! Attention! I entreat you." + +Our assistant-master was Coatti, the one with the black beard, who +mimics the voice of a lion, and never punishes any one. There were boys +who were white with fear. When the master broke the seal of the letter +from the town-hall, and drew out the problem, not a breath was audible. +He announced the problem loudly, staring now at one, now at another, +with terrible eyes; but we understood that had he been able to announce +the answer also, so that we might all get promoted, he would have been +delighted. + +After an hour of work many began to grow weary, for the problem was +difficult. One cried. Crossi dealt himself blows on the head. And many +of them are not to blame, poor boys, for not knowing, for they have not +had much time to study, and have been neglected by their parents. But +Providence was at hand. You should have seen Derossi, and what trouble +he took to help them; how ingenious he was in getting a figure passed +on, and in suggesting an operation, without allowing himself to be +caught; so anxious for all that he appeared to be our teacher himself. +Garrone, too, who is strong in arithmetic, helped all he could; and he +even assisted Nobis, who, finding himself in a quandary, was quite +gentle. + +Stardi remained motionless for more than an hour, with his eyes on the +problem, and his fists on his temples, and then he finished the whole +thing in five minutes. The master made his round among the benches, +saying:-- + +"Be calm! Be calm! I advise you to be calm!" + +And when he saw that any one was discouraged, he opened his mouth, as +though about to devour him, in imitation of a lion, in order to make him +laugh and inspire him with courage. Toward eleven o'clock, peeping down +through the blinds, I perceived many parents pacing the street in their +impatience. There was Precossi's father, in his blue blouse, who had +deserted his shop, with his face still quite black. There was Crossi's +mother, the vegetable-vender; and Nelli's mother, dressed in black, who +could not stand still. + +A little before mid-day, my father arrived and raised his eyes to my +window; my dear father! At noon we had all finished. And it was a sight +at the close of school! Every one ran to meet the boys, to ask +questions, to turn over the leaves of the copy-books to compare them +with the work of their comrades. + +"How many operations? What is the total? And subtraction? And the +answer? And the punctuation of decimals?" + +All the masters were running about hither and thither, summoned in a +hundred directions. + +My father instantly took from my hand the rough copy, looked at it, and +said, "That's well." + +Beside us was the blacksmith, Precossi, who was also inspecting his +son's work, but rather uneasily, and not comprehending it. He turned to +my father:-- + +"Will you do me the favor to tell me the total?" + +My father read the number. The other gazed and reckoned. "Brave little +one!" he exclaimed, in perfect content. And my father and he gazed at +each other for a moment with a kindly smile, like two friends. My father +offered his hand, and the other shook it; and they parted, saying, +"Farewell until the oral examination." + +"Until the oral examination." + +After proceeding a few paces, we heard a falsetto voice which made us +turn our heads. It was the blacksmith-ironmonger singing. + + +THE LAST EXAMINATION. + + Friday, 7th. + +This morning we had our oral examinations. At eight o'clock we were all +in the schoolroom, and at a quarter past they began to call us, four at +a time, into the big hall, where there was a large table covered with a +green cloth; round it were seated the head-master and four other +masters, among them our own. I was one of the first called out. Poor +master! how plainly I perceived this morning that you are really fond of +us! While they were interrogating the others, he had no eyes for any one +but us. He was troubled when we were uncertain in our replies; he grew +serene when we gave a fine answer; he heard everything, and made us a +thousand signs with his hand and head, to say to us, "Good!--no!--pay +attention!--slower!--courage!" + +He would have suggested everything to us, had he been able to talk. If +the fathers of all these pupils had been in his place, one after the +other, they could not have done more. They would have cried "Thanks!" +ten times, in the face of them all. And when the other masters said to +me, "That is well; you may go," his eyes beamed with pleasure. + +I returned at once to the schoolroom to wait for my father. Nearly all +were still there. I sat down beside Garrone. I was not at all cheerful; +I was thinking that it was the last time that we should be near each +other for an hour. I had not yet told Garrone that I should not go +through the fourth grade with him, that I was to leave Turin with my +father. He knew nothing. And he sat there, doubled up together, with his +big head reclining on the desk, making ornaments round the photograph +of his father, who was dressed like a machinist, and who is a tall, +large man, with a bull neck and a serious, honest look, like himself. +And as he sat thus bent together, with his blouse a little open in +front, I saw on his bare and robust breast the gold cross which Nelli's +mother had presented to him, when she learned that he protected her son. +But it was necessary to tell him sometime that I was going away. I said +to him:-- + +"Garrone, my father is going away from Turin this autumn, for good. He +asked me if I were going, also. I replied that I was." + +"You will not go through the fourth grade with us?" he said to me. I +answered "No." + +Then he did not speak to me for a while, but went on with his drawing. +Then, without raising his head, he inquired: + +"And shall you remember your comrades of the third grade?" + +"Yes," I told him, "all of them; but you more than all the rest. Who can +forget you?" + +He looked at me fixedly and seriously, with a gaze that said a thousand +things, but he said nothing; he only offered me his left hand, +pretending to continue his drawing with the other; and I pressed it +between mine, that strong and loyal hand. At that moment the master +entered hastily, with a red face, and said, in a low, quick voice, with +a joyful intonation:-- + +"Good, all is going well now, let the rest come forwards; _bravi_, boys! +Courage! I am extremely well satisfied." And, in order to show us his +contentment, and to exhilarate us, as he went out in haste, he made a +motion of stumbling and of catching at the wall, to prevent a fall; he +whom we had never seen laugh! The thing appeared so strange, that, +instead of laughing, all remained stupefied; all smiled, no one laughed. + +Well, I do not know,--that act of childish joy caused both pain and +tenderness. All his reward was that moment of cheerfulness,--it was the +compensation for nine months of kindness, patience, and even sorrow! For +that he had toiled so long; for that he had so often gone to give +lessons to a sick boy, poor teacher! That and nothing more was what he +demanded of us, in exchange for so much affection and so much care! + +And, now, it seems to me that I shall always see him in the performance +of that act, when I recall him through many years; and when I have +become a man, he will still be alive, and we shall meet, and I will tell +him about that deed which touched my heart; and I will give him a kiss +on his white head. + + +FAREWELL. + + Monday, 10th. + +At one o'clock we all assembled once more for the last time at the +school, to hear the results of the examinations, and to take our little +promotion books. The street was thronged with parents, who had even +invaded the big hall, and many had made their way into the class-rooms, +thrusting themselves even to the master's desk: in our room they filled +the entire space between the wall and the front benches. There were +Garrone's father, Derossi's mother, the blacksmith Precossi, Coretti, +Signora Nelli, the vegetable-vender, the father of the little mason, +Stardi's father, and many others whom I had never seen; and on all sides +a whispering and a hum were audible, that seemed to proceed from the +square outside. + +The master entered, and a profound silence ensued. He had the list in +his hand, and began to read at once. + +"Abatucci, promoted, sixty seventieths. Archini, promoted, fifty-five +seventieths."--The little mason promoted; Crossi promoted. Then he read +loudly:-- + +"Ernesto Derossi, promoted, seventy seventieths, and the first prize." + +All the parents who were there--and they all knew him--said:-- + +"Bravo, bravo, Derossi!" And he shook his golden curls, with his easy +and beautiful smile, and looked at his mother, who made him a salute +with her hand. + +Garoffi, Garrone, the Calabrian promoted. Then three or four sent back; +and one of them began to cry because his father, who was at the +entrance, made a menacing gesture at him. But the master said to the +father:-- + +"No, sir, excuse me; it is not always the boy's fault; it is often his +misfortune. And that is the case here." Then he read:-- + +"Nelli, promoted, sixty-two seventieths." His mother sent him a kiss +from her fan. Stardi, promoted, with sixty-seven seventieths! but, at +hearing this fine fate, he did not even smile, or remove his fists from +his temples. The last was Votini, who had come very finely dressed and +brushed,--promoted. After reading the last name, the master rose and +said:-- + +"Boys, this is the last time that we shall find ourselves assembled +together in this room. We have been together a year, and now we part +good friends, do we not? I am sorry to part from you, my dear boys." He +interrupted himself, then he resumed: "If I have sometimes failed in +patience, if sometimes, without intending it, I have been unjust, or too +severe, forgive me." + +"No, no!" cried the parents and many of the scholars,--"no, master, +never!" + +"Forgive me," repeated the master, "and think well of me. Next year you +will not be with me; but I shall see you again, and you will always +abide in my heart. Farewell until we meet again, boys!" + +So saying, he stepped forward among us, and we all offered him our +hands, as we stood up on the seats, and grasped him by the arms, and by +the skirts of his coat; many kissed him; fifty voices cried in concert: + +"Farewell until we meet again, teacher!--Thanks, teacher!--May your +health be good!--Remember us!" + +When I went out, I felt oppressed by the commotion. We all ran out +confusedly. Boys were emerging from all the other class-rooms also. +There was a great mixing and tumult of boys and parents, bidding the +masters and the mistresses good by, and exchanging greetings among +themselves. The mistress with the red feather had four or five children +on top of her, and twenty around her, depriving her of breath; and they +had half torn off the little nun's bonnet, and thrust a dozen bunches of +flowers in the button-holes of her black dress, and in her pockets. Many +were making much of Robetti, who had that day, for the first time, +abandoned his crutches. On all sides the words were audible:-- + +"Good by until next year!--Until the twentieth of October!" We greeted +each other, too. Ah! now all disagreements were forgotten at that +moment! Votini, who had always been so jealous of Derossi, was the first +to throw himself on him with open arms. I saluted the little mason, and +kissed him, just at the moment when he was making me his last hare's +face, dear boy! I saluted Precossi. I saluted Garoffi, who announced to +me the approach of his last lottery, and gave me a little paper weight +of majolica, with a broken corner; I said farewell to all the others. It +was beautiful to see poor Nelli clinging to Garrone, so that he could +not be taken from him. All thronged around Garrone, and it was, +"Farewell, Garrone!--Good by until we meet!" And they touched him, and +pressed his hands, and made much of him, that brave, sainted boy; and +his father was perfectly amazed, as he looked on and smiled. + +Garrone was the last one whom I embraced in the street, and I stifled a +sob against his breast: he kissed my brow. Then I ran to my father and +mother. My father asked me: "Have you spoken to all of your comrades?" + +I replied that I had. "If there is any one of them whom you have +wronged, go and ask his pardon, and beg him to forget it. Is there no +one?" + +"No one," I answered. + +"Farewell, then," said my father with a voice full of emotion, bestowing +a last glance on the schoolhouse. And my mother repeated: "Farewell!" + +And I could not say anything. + + + + + * * * * * + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE + + +The original language and spelling have been retained, except where +noted. Minimal typographical errors concerning punctuation have been +corrected without notes. + +The signatures at the end of the following sections + + MY MOTHER. + POETRY. + GARIBALDI. + ITALY. + MY FATHER. + THE LAST PAGE FROM MY MOTHER. + +are missing in the original text and have been added according to the +Italian editions of the book. + +The [oe] ligature has been rendered as "oe". + +The following changes were made to the original text (the original text +is on the first line, the correction is on the following line): + + 97: two battalions of Italian infantry and two cannon + two battalions of Italian infantry and two cannons + + 117: replied, that the the man was a mason who had + replied, that the man was a mason who had + + 177: Feruccio stood listening three paces away, leaning + Ferruccio stood listening three paces away, leaning + + 201: with the wound on his neck, who was with Garabaldi, + with the wound on his neck, who was with Garibaldi, + + 292: which anounced the field artillery; and then the + which announced the field artillery; and then the + + * * * * * + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Cuore (Heart), by Edmondo De Amicis + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CUORE (HEART) *** + +***** This file should be named 28961.txt or 28961.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/9/6/28961/ + +Produced by Emanuela Piasentini and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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