ibuted
rewards and punishments as the great Emperor was wont to do after a
battle. For the dunces there was a corner strewn with dried peas on
which they were made to kneel with long-eared donkey caps adorning
their luckless heads. Very likely it was after an insult of this
kind that Enrico decided to elope to America with his baby sister.
They were found down by the harbor bargaining with some fishermen to
take them over to Capri _en route_ for the land of freedom. The
elder Dalgas died while the children were yet little, and the widow
went back to Denmark to bring up her boys there.

They were poor, and the change from the genial skies of sunny Italy
to the bleak North did not make it any easier for them. Enrico's
teacher saw it, and gave him his overcoat to be made over. But the
boys spotted it and squared accounts with their teacher by
snowballing the wearer of the big green plaid until he was glad to
leave it at home, and go without. He was in the military school when
war broke out with Germany in 1848. Both of his brothers
volunteered, and fell in battle. Enrico was ordered out as
lieutenant, and put on the shoulder-straps joyfully, to the great
scandal of his godfather in Milan, who sympathized with the German
cause. When the young soldier refused to resign he not only cut him
off in his will, but took away a pension of four hundred kroner he
had given his mother in her widowhood. If he had thoughts of
bringing them over by such means, he found out his mistake. Mother
and son were made of sterner stuff. Dalgas fought twice for his
country, the last time in 1864, as a captain of engineers.

It was no ordinary class, the one of 1851 that resumed its studies
in the military high school. Two of the students did not answer
roll-call; their names were written among the nation's heroic dead.
Some had scars and wore the cross for valor in battle. All were
first lieutenants, to be graduated as captains. Dalgas had himself
transferred from the artillery to the engineers, and was detailed as
road inspector. So the opportunity of his life came to him.

There were few railways in those days; the highways were still the
great arteries of traffic. Dalgas built roads that crossed the
heath, and he learned to know it and the strong and independent, if
narrow, people who clung to it with such a tenacious grip. He had a
natural liking for practical geology and for the chemistry of the
soil, and the deep cuts which his roads som