Part 11 (1/2)
”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 pa.s.sed 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.
Sat.u.r.day, 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 G.o.d, 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 pus.h.i.+ng 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 G.o.d 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 compa.s.sion! 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 pa.s.sion 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 impa.s.sive, 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 cla.s.s, 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.
G.o.d 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 n.o.ble 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 G.o.d to give you the strength to put your resolution into practice. ”Lord, I wish to be good, n.o.ble, 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 n.o.bler 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 G.o.d!
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.