“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.