Heart/Will
WILL
None but Stardi in my school would have had the force to do what the little Florentine did. This morning two events occurred at the school: Garoffi became wild with delight, because his album had been returned to him, with the addition of three postage-stamps of the Republic of Guatemala, which he had been seeking for three months; and Stardi took the second medal. Stardi the next in the class after Derossi! All were amazed at it. Who could ever have foretold it, when, in October, his father brought him to school bundled up in that big, green coat, and said to the master, in the presence of every one:—
“You must have a great deal of patience with him, because he is very hard of understanding!”
Every one credited him with a wooden head from the very beginning. But he said, “I will burst or I will succeed,” and he set to work doggedly, to studying day and night, at home, at school, while walking, with set teeth and clenched fists, patient as an ox, obstinate as a mule; and thus, by dint of trampling on every one, disregarding mockery, and dealing kicks to disturbers, this big thick-head passed in advance of the rest. He did not understand the first thing of arithmetic, he filled his compositions with absurdities, he never succeeded in holding a phrase in his mind; and now he solves problems, writes correctly, and sings his lesson like a song. And his iron will can be guessed when one sees how he is made, so very thickset and squat, with a square head and no neck, with short, thick hands, and coarse voice. He studies even on scraps of newspaper, and on theatre bills, and every time that he has ten soldi, he buys a book. He has already .collected a little library, and in a moment of good humor he allowed the promise to slip from his mouth that he would take me home and show it to me. He speaks to no one, he plays with no one, he is always on hand, on his bench, with his fists pressed to his temples, firm as a rock, listening to the teacher. How he must have toiled, poor Stardi! The master said to him this morning, although he was impatient and in a bad humor, when he bestowed the medals:—
“Bravo, Stardi! he who endures, conquers.”
But Stardi did not appear in the least puffed up with pride—he did not smile; and no sooner had he returned to his seat, with the medal, than he planted his fists on his temples again, and became more motionless and more attentive than before. But the finest thing happened when he went out of school; for his father, who is as big and squat as himself, with a huge face and a huge voice, was there waiting for him. He had not expected this medal, and he was not willing to believe in it, so that it was necessary for the master to reassure him, and then he began to laugh heartily, and tapped his son on the back of the neck, saying energetically, “Bravo! good! my dear pumpkin; you'll do!” and he stared at him, astonished and smiling. And all the boys around him smiled too, except Stardi. He was already running over the lesson for to-morrow morning in that huge head of his.