women, men, girls, and youths press closer around the door, waiting for their sons, brothers, or grandchildren; while from the doors of the class-rooms little boys shoot forth into the big hall, as from a spout, seize their little capes and hats, creating a great confusion with them on the floor, and dancing all about, until the beadle chases them forth one after the other. At length they come forth, in long files, stamping their feet. And then from all the relatives comes a shower of questions: “Did you know your lesson?—How much work did they give you?—What have you to do for to-morrow?—When does the monthly examination come?”
Then even the poor mothers who do not know how to read, open the copy-books, gaze at the problems, and ask particulars: “Only eight?—Ten with commendation?—Nine for the lesson?”
And they grow uneasy, and rejoice, and question the masters, and talk of the prospect for the examinations. How beautiful all this is, and how great its promise to the world!
Your Mother
THE DEAF-MUTE
Sunday, 28th.
The month of May could not have had a better ending than my visit this morning. We heard a jingling of the bell, and all ran to see what it meant. I heard my father say in a tone of astonishment:—
“You here, Giorgio?”
Giorgio was our gardener in Chieri, who now has his family at Condove, and had just arrived from Genoa, where he had disembarked on the preceding
