a soldo the paper hornful, and turning a pretty penny.
Then it was Garrone's turn, and up he went, chewing away at his bread as though it were nothing out of the common; and I believe that he would have been capable of carrying one of us up on his shoulders, for he is as muscular and strong as a young bull.
After Garrone came Nelli. No sooner did the boys see him grasp the bars with those long, thin hands of his, than many of them began to laugh and to sing; but Garrone crossed his great arms on his breast, and darted round a glance which was so expressive, which so clearly said that he did not mind dealing out half a dozen punches, even in the master's presence, that they all ceased laughing on the instant. Nelli began to climb. He tried hard, poor little fellow; his face grew purple, he breathed with difficulty, and the perspiration poured from his brow. The master said, “Come down!” But he would not. He strove and persisted. I expected every moment to see him fall headlong, half dead. Poor Nelli! I thought, what if I had been like him, and my mother had seen me! How she would have suffered, poor mother! And as I thought of that I felt so tenderly towards Nelli that I could have given anything to help him climb those bars, or boost him from below without being seen.
Meanwhile Garrone, Derossi, and Coretti were saying: “Up with you, Nelli, up with you!” “Try—one effort more—courage!” And Nelli made one more violent effort, utering a groan as he did so, and found himself within two spans of the plank.
“Bravo!” shouted the others. “Courage—one dash more!” and behold! Nelli was clinging to the plank.
