ENVY
Wednesday, 25th.
The boy who wrote the best composition on “The Love of Country” was Derossi, as usual. And Votini thought himself sure of the first medal! I like Votini well enough, although he is rather vain and does dress up a trifle too much,—but it makes me scorn him, now that I am his neighbor on the bench, to see how envious he is of Derossi. He would like to rival him; he studies hard, but he cannot do it by any possibility, for Derossi is ten times as strong as he is on every point; and Votini rails at him. Carlo Nobis envies him too; but he has so much pride in his body that, purely from pride, he keeps it hidden. Votini, on the other hand, betrays himself: he complains at home of his difficulties and says that the master is unjust to him. When Derossi replies so promptly and so well to questions, as he alway does, Votini's face clouds over, he hangs his head, pretends not to hear, or tries to laugh, but he laughs awkwardly
And every one knows about it. so that when the master praises Derossi they all turn to look at Votini, who chews his venom, and “Muratorino” makes a hare's face at him. To-day for instance, he was put on the rack. The principal entered the room and announced the result of the examination,—“Derossi ten-tenths and the first medal.”
Votini gave a huge sneeze. The master looked at him: it was not hard to understand the matter. “Votini,” he said, “do not let the serpent of envy enter
