lways 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 FOUR