Carmella Commands
sitting in his Morris chair, smoking. She went to the phonograph and selected as the record Verdi’s “Home to Our Mountains.”
It was perhaps her father’s favorite of favorites. She noted his pleasure as the first notes sounded, and knew that he was in a mood for music. Then came “I Have Sighed to Rest Me”; and “Happy Bridal Day” from Lucia. These three, she knew, were the records that Tommaso played most often.
As he half dozed, basking in memories of Italy, she asked:
“How’s the work going, padre?”
“We are working,” he replied.
“Listen, padre caro! Let me go with you tomorrow. Please?”
“You have your school.”
“Ah, but padre carissimo, only this very day Mr. Carroll, the principal, said I should learn to help my father. It is good to learn to do that, he said, and the school is only part of the learning. He said those very words to me, padre.”
“Well,” answered Tommaso sleepily, “I shall see in the morning.”
Carmella rushed to the kitchen, where her mother was preparing for the morrow’s breakfast.
“Mother of mine,” she cried, “you are to wake me when father wakes.”
“But⸺” began the tired and perplexed mother.
“He has need of me,” said Carmella firmly.
[188]
