in the cart was handing him an armful
of wood at a time, which he took and carried into his father's shop,
where he piled it up in the greatest haste.

"What are you doing, Coretti?" I asked him.

"Don't you see?" he answered, reaching out his arms to receive the load;
"I am reviewing my lesson."

I laughed; but he seemed to be serious, and, having grasped the armful
of wood, he began to repeat as he ran, "_The conjugation of the
verb--consists in its variations according to number--according to
number and person--_"

And then, throwing down the wood and piling it, "_according to the
time--according to the time to which the action refers._"

And turning to the cart for another armful, "_according to the mode in
which the action is enunciated._"

It was our grammar lesson for the following day. "What would you have me
do?" he said. "I am putting my time to use. My father has gone off with
the man on business; my mother is ill. It falls to me to do the
unloading. In the meantime, I am going over my grammar lesson. It is a
difficult lesson to-day; I cannot succeed in getting it into my
head.--My father said that he would be here at seven o'clock to give you
your money," he said to the man with the cart.

The cart drove off. "Come into the shop a minute," Coretti said to me. I
went in. It was a large apartment, full of piles of wood and fagots,
with a steelyard on one side.

"This is a busy day, I can assure you," resumed Coretti; "I have to do
my work by fits and starts. I was writing my phrases, when some
customers came in. I went to writing again, and behold, that cart
arrived. I have already made two trips to the wood market in the Piazza
Venezia this morning. My legs are so tired that I cannot stand, and my
hands are all swollen. I should be in a pretty pickle if I had to draw!"
And as he spoke he set about sweeping up the dry leaves and the straw
which covered the brick-paved floor.

"But where do you do your work, Coretti?" I inquired.

"Not here, certainly," he replied. "Come and see"; and he led me into a
little room behind the shop, which serves as a kitchen and dining-room,
with a table in one corner, on which there were books and copy-books,
and work which had been begun. "Here it is," he said; "I left the second
answer unfinished: _with which shoes are made, and belts_. Now I will
add, _and valises_." And, taking his pen, he began to write in his fine
hand.

"Is there any one here?" sounded a cal