t the bedside of his sick son, and I immediately sought out his
son in the pit. Poor little mason! he was staring at his father with
beaming eyes, and, in order to conceal his emotion, he made his hare's
face. At that moment I heard a burst of applause, and I glanced at the
stage: a little chimney-sweep stood there, with a clean face, but in his
working-clothes, and the mayor was holding him by the hand and talking
to him.

After the chimney-sweep came a cook; then came one of the city sweepers,
from the Raineri School, to get a prize. I felt I know not what in my
heart,--something like a great affection and a great respect, at the
thought of how much those prizes had cost all those workingmen, fathers
of families, full of care; how much toil added to their labors, how many
hours snatched from their sleep, of which they stand in such great need,
and what efforts of intelligences not habituated to study, and of huge
hands rendered clumsy with work!

A factory boy passed, and it was evident that his father had lent him
his jacket for the occasion, for his sleeves hung down so that he was
forced to turn them back on the stage, in order to receive his prize:
and many laughed; but the laugh was speedily stifled by the applause.
Next came an old man with a bald head and a white beard. Several
artillery soldiers passed, from among those who attended evening school
in our schoolhouse; then came custom-house guards and policemen, from
among those who guard our schools.

At the conclusion, the pupils of the evening schools again sang the hymn
to the dead in the Crimea, but this time with so much dash, with a
strength of affection which came so directly from the heart, that the
audience hardly applauded at all, and all retired in deep emotion,
slowly and noiselessly.

In a few moments the whole street was thronged. In front of the
entrance to the theatre was the chimney-sweep, with his prize book bound
in red, and all around were gentlemen talking to him. Many exchanged
salutations from the opposite side of the street,--workmen, boys,
policemen, teachers. My master of the second grade came out in the midst
of the crowd, between two artillery men. And there were workmen's wives
with babies in their arms, who held in their tiny hands their father's
diploma, and exhibited it to the crowd in their pride.

MY DEAD SCHOOLMISTRESS.

Tuesday, 27th.

While we were at the Theatre Vittorio Emanuele, my poor schoolmistress
died