y, 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 hun