when seen
thus together, both rosy and smiling, with those white teeth of theirs.
The father drank with zest, emptying the bottles and the cups which we
left half finished, and said:--

"Wine hurts you boys who are studying; it is the wood-sellers who need
it." Then he grasped his son by the nose, and shook him, saying to us,
"Boys, you must love this fellow, for he is a flower of a man of honor;
I tell you so myself!" And then we all laughed, except Garrone. And he
went on, as he drank, "It's a shame, eh! now you are all good friends
together, and in a few years, who knows, Enrico and Derossi will be
lawyers or professors or I don't know what, and the other four of you
will be in shops or at a trade, and the deuce knows where, and
then--good night comrades!"

"Nonsense!" rejoined Derossi; "for me, Garrone will always be Garrone,
Precossi will always be Precossi, and the same with all the others, were
I to become the emperor of Russia: where they are, there I shall go
also."

"Bless you!" exclaimed the elder Coretti, raising his flask; "that's the
way to talk, by Heavens! Touch your glass here! Hurrah for brave
comrades, and hurrah for school, which makes one family of you, of those
who have and those who have not!"

We all clinked his flask with the skins and the cups, and drank for the
last time.

"Hurrah for the fourth of the 49th!" he cried, as he rose to his feet,
and swallowed the last drop; "and if you have to do with squadrons too,
see that you stand firm, like us old ones, my lads!"

It was already late. We descended, running and singing, and walking long
distances all arm in arm, and we arrived at the Po as twilight fell, and
thousands of fireflies were flitting about. And we only parted in the
Piazza dello Statuto after having agreed to meet there on the following
Sunday, and go to the Vittorio Emanuele to see the distribution of
prizes to the graduates of the evening schools.

What a beautiful day! How happy I should have been on my return home,
had I not encountered my poor schoolmistress! I met her coming down the
staircase of our house, almost in the dark, and, as soon as she
recognized me, she took both my hands, and whispered in my ear, "Good
by, Enrico; remember me!" I perceived that she was weeping. I went up
and told my mother about it.

"I have just met my schoolmistress."--"She was just going to bed,"
replied my mother, whose eyes were red. And then she added very sadly,
gazing intently