Heart/The Calabrian Boy
THE CALABRIAN BOY
Yesterday afternoon, while the master was telling us the news of poor Robetti, who will have to go on crutches, the director entered with a new pupil, a lad with a very brown face, black hair, large black eyes, and thick eyebrows which met on his forehead: he was dressed entirely in dark clothes, with a black morocco belt round his waist. The director went away, after speaking a few words in the master's ear, leaving beside the latter the boy, who glanced about with his big black eyes as though frightened. The master took him by the hand, and said to the class:—
“You ought to be glad. To-day there enters our school a little Italian born in Reggio, in Calabria, more than five hundred miles from here. Love your brother who has come from so far away. He was born in a glorious land, which has given illustrious men to Italy, and which now furnishes her with stout laborers and brave soldiers; in one of the most beautiful lands of our country, where there are great forests, and great mountains, inhabited by people full of talent and courage. Treat him well, so that he shall not feel that he is far away from the city in which he was born; make him see that an Italian boy, in whatever Italian school he sets his foot, will find brothers there.” So saying, he rose and pointed out on the wall map of Italy the spot where lay Reggio, in Calabria. Then he called:—
“Ernesto Derossi!”—the boy who always gets the first prize. Derossi rose.
“Come here,” said the master. Derossi left his bench and stepped up to the little table, facing the Calabrian. “ As the head of the class,” said the master to him, “give a welcome to this new companion, in the name of the whole school the embrace of the sons of Piedmont to the son of Calabria.”
Derossi embraced the Calabrian, saying in his clear voice, “Welcome!” and the other kissed him impetuously on the cheeks. All clapped their hands. “Silence!” cried the master; “we don't clap hands in school!” But it was clear that he was pleased. And the Calabrian was pleased also. The master gave him a place, and went with him to the bench. Then he said again:—
“Bear well in mind what I have said to you. In order that this case might occur, that a Calabrian boy should be as though in his own house at Turin, and that a boy from Turin should be at home in Calabria, our country fought for fifty years, and thirty thousand Italians died. You must all respect and love each other; but any one of you who should give offense to this comrade, because he was not born in our province, would render himself unworthy of ever again raising his eyes from the earth when he passes the tricolored flag.”
Hardly was the Calabrian seated in his place, when his neighbors presented him with pens and a picture; and another boy, from the last bench, sent him a Swiss postage-stamp.