able to do all my school tasks with him, for his presence, his voice, inspire me with courage, with a will to work, with cheerfulness and pleasure.
The teacher has given him the monthly story to copy, which will be read to-morrow,—The Little Vidette of Lombardy. He copied it this morning, and was so much affected by that heroic deed, that his face was all aflame, his eyes moist, and his lips trembling. I gazed at him: how handsome and noble he was! With what pleasure would I not have said frankly to his face: “Derossi, you are worth more than I in everything! You are a man in comparison with me! I respect you and admire you!”
THE LITTLE VIDETTE OF LOMBARDY
(Monthly Story.)
Saturday, 26th.
In the year 1859, during the war for the liberation of Lombardy,—a few days after the battle of Solferino and San Martino, won by the French and Italians over the Austrians,—on a beautiful morning in the month of June, a little band of cavalry of Saluzzo was proceeding at a slow pace along a retired path, in the direction of the enemy, and exploring the country attentively. The troop was commanded by an officer and a sergeant, and all were gazing into the distance ahead of them, with eyes fixed, silent, and prepared at any moment to see the uniforms of the enemy's advance-posts gleam white before them through the trees. In this order they arrived at a rustic cabin, sur-
