, 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,