weary, for the problem was
difficult. One cried. Crossi dealt himself blows on the head. And many
of them are not to blame, poor boys, for not knowing, for they have not
had much time to study, and have been neglected by their parents. But
Providence was at hand. You should have seen Derossi, and what trouble
he took to help them; how ingenious he was in getting a figure passed
on, and in suggesting an operation, without allowing himself to be
caught; so anxious for all that he appeared to be our teacher himself.
Garrone, too, who is strong in arithmetic, helped all he could; and he
even assisted Nobis, who, finding himself in a quandary, was quite
gentle.

Stardi remained motionless for more than an hour, with his eyes on the
problem, and his fists on his temples, and then he finished the whole
thing in five minutes. The master made his round among the benches,
saying:--

"Be calm! Be calm! I advise you to be calm!"

And when he saw that any one was discouraged, he opened his mouth, as
though about to devour him, in imitation of a lion, in order to make him
laugh and inspire him with courage. Toward eleven o'clock, peeping down
through the blinds, I perceived many parents pacing the street in their
impatience. There was Precossi's father, in his blue blouse, who had
deserted his shop, with his face still quite black. There was Crossi's
mother, the vegetable-vender; and Nelli's mother, dressed in black, who
could not stand still.

A little before mid-day, my father arrived and raised his eyes to my
window; my dear father! At noon we had all finished. And it was a sight
at the close of school! Every one ran to meet the boys, to ask
questions, to turn over the leaves of the copy-books to compare them
with the work of their comrades.

"How many operations? What is the total? And subtraction? And the
answer? And the punctuation of decimals?"

All the masters were running about hither and thither, summoned in a
hundred directions.

My father instantly took from my hand the rough copy, looked at it, and
said, "That's well."

Beside us was the blacksmith, Precossi, who was also inspecting his
son's work, but rather uneasily, and not comprehending it. He turned to
my father:--

"Will you do me the favor to tell me the total?"

My father read the number. The other gazed and reckoned. "Brave little
one!" he exclaimed, in perfect content. And my father and he gazed at
each other for a moment with a kindly smile, like