Cuore (Heart) Part 32

"The Deaf-mute Insti-tution."

"How many are two times ten?"

"Twen-ty."

While we thought that he was laughing for joy, he suddenly burst out crying. But this was the result of joy also.

"Take courage," said the teacher to him; "you have reason to rejoice, not to weep. You see that you are making your daughter cry also. You are pleased, then?"

The gardener grasped the teacher's hand and kissed it two or three times, saying: "Thanks, thanks, thanks! a hundred thanks, a thousand thanks, dear Signora Teacher! and forgive me for not knowing how to say anything else!"

"But she not only speaks," said the teacher; "your daughter also knows how to write. She knows how to reckon. She knows the names of all common objects. She knows a little history and geography. She is now in the regular cla.s.s. When she has pa.s.sed through the two remaining cla.s.ses, she will know much more. When she leaves here, she will be in a condition to adopt a profession. We already have deaf-mutes who stand in the shops to serve customers, and they perform their duties like any one else."

Again the gardener was astounded. It seemed as though his ideas were becoming confused again. He stared at his daughter and scratched his head. His face demanded another explanation.

Then the teacher turned to the attendant and said to him:--

"Call a child of the preparatory cla.s.s for me."

The attendant returned, in a short time, with a deaf-mute of eight or nine years, who had entered the inst.i.tution a few days before.

"This girl," said the mistress, "is one of those whom we are instructing in the first elements. This is the way it is done. I want to make her say _a_. Pay attention."

The teacher opened her mouth, as one opens it to p.r.o.nounce the vowel _a_, and motioned to the child to open her mouth in the same manner.

Then the mistress made her a sign to emit her voice. She did so; but instead of _a_, she p.r.o.nounced _o_.

"No," said the mistress, "that is not right." And taking the child's two hands, she placed one of them on her own throat and the other on her chest, and repeated, "_a_."

The child felt with her hands the movements of the mistress's throat and chest, opened her mouth again as before, and p.r.o.nounced extremely well, "_a_."

In the same manner, the mistress made her p.r.o.nounce _c_ and _d_, still keeping the two little hands on her own throat and chest.

"Now do you understand?" she inquired.

The father understood; but he seemed more astonished than when he had not understood.

"And they are taught to speak in the same way?" he asked, after a moment of reflection, gazing at the teacher. "You have the patience to teach them to speak in that manner, little by little, and so many of them? one by one--through years and years? But you are saints; that's what you are! You are angels of paradise! There is not in the world a reward that is worthy of you! What is there that I can say? Ah! leave me alone with my daughter a little while now. Let me have her to myself for five minutes."

And drawing her to a seat apart he began to interrogate her, and she to reply, and he laughed with beaming eyes, slapping his fists down on his knees; and he took his daughter's hands, and stared at her, beside himself with delight at hearing her, as though her voice had been one which came from heaven; then he asked the teacher, "Would the Signor Director permit me to thank him?"

"The director is not here," replied the mistress; "but there is another person whom you should thank. Every little girl here is given into the charge of an older companion, who acts the part of sister or mother to her. Your little girl has been intrusted to the care of a deaf-mute of seventeen, the daughter of a baker, who is kind and very fond of her; she has been a.s.sisting her for two years to dress herself every morning; she combs her hair, she teaches her to sew, she mends her clothes, she is good company for her.--Luigia, what is the name of your mamma in the inst.i.tute?"

The girl smiled, and said, "Ca-te-rina Gior-dano." Then she said to her father, "She is ve-ry, ve-ry good."

The attendant, who had withdrawn at a signal from the mistress, returned almost at once with a light-haired deaf-mute, a robust girl, with a cheerful countenance, and also dressed in the red and white striped stuff, with a gray ap.r.o.n; she paused at the door and blushed; then she bent her head with a smile. She had the figure of a woman, but seemed like a child.

Giorgio's daughter instantly ran to her, took her by the arm, like a child, and drew her to her father, saying, in her heavy voice, "Ca-te-rina Gior-dano."

"Ah, what a splendid girl!" exclaimed her father; and he stretched out one hand to caress her, but drew it back again, and repeated, "Ah, what a good girl! May G.o.d bless her, may He grant her all good fortune, all consolations; may He make her and hers always happy, so good a girl is she, my poor Gigia! It is an honest workingman, the poor father of a family, who wishes you this with all his heart."

The big girl caressed the little one, still keeping her face bent, and smiling, and the gardener continued to gaze at her, as at a madonna.

"You can take your daughter with you for the day," said the mistress.

"Won't I take her, though!" rejoined the gardener. "I'll take her to Condove, and fetch her back to-morrow morning. Think for a bit whether I won't take her!"

The girl ran off to dress.

"It is three years since I have seen her!" repeated the gardener. "Now she speaks! I will take her to Condove with me on the instant. But first I shall take a ramble about Turin, with my deaf-mute on my arm, so that all may see her, and take her to see some of my friends! Ah, what a beautiful day! This is consolation indeed!--Here's your father's arm, my Gigia."

The girl, who had returned with a little mantle and cap on, took his arm.

"And thanks to all!" said the father, as he reached the threshold.

"Thanks to all, with my whole soul! I shall come back another time to thank you all again."

He stood for a moment in thought, then disengaged himself abruptly from the girl, turned back, fumbling in his waistcoat with his hand, and shouted like a man in a fury:--

"Come now, I am not a poor devil! So here, I leave twenty lire for the inst.i.tution,--a fine new gold piece."

And with a tremendous bang, he deposited his gold piece on the table.

"No, no, my good man," said the mistress, with emotion. "Take back your money. I cannot accept it. Take it back. It is not my place. You shall see about that when the director is here. But he will not accept anything either; be sure of that. You have toiled too hard to earn it, poor man. We shall be greatly obliged to you, all the same."

"No; I shall leave it," replied the gardener, obstinately; "and then--we will see."

But the mistress put his money back in his pocket, without leaving him time to reject it. And then he resigned himself with a shake of the head; and then, wafting a kiss to the mistress and to the large girl, he quickly took his daughter's arm again, and hurried with her out of the door, saying:--

"Come, come, my daughter, my poor dumb child, my treasure!"

And the girl exclaimed, in her harsh voice:--

"Oh, how beau-ti-ful the sun is!"

JUNE.

GARIBALDI.

June 3d.

To-morrow is the National Festival Day.

TO-DAY is a day of national mourning. Garibaldi died last night. Do you know who he is? He is the man who liberated ten millions of Italians from the tyranny of the Bourbons. He died at the age of seventy-five. He was born at Nice, the son of a s.h.i.+p captain. At eight years of age, he saved a woman's life; at thirteen, he dragged into safety a boat-load of his companions who were s.h.i.+pwrecked; at twenty-seven, he rescued from the water at Ma.r.s.eilles a drowning youth; at forty-one, he saved a s.h.i.+p from burning on the ocean. He fought for ten years in America for the liberty of a strange people; he fought in three wars against the Austrians, for the liberation of Lombardy and Trentino; he defended Rome from the French in 1849; he delivered Naples and Palermo in 1860; he fought again for Rome in 1867; he combated with the Germans in defence of France in 1870. He was possessed of the flame of heroism and the genius of war. He was engaged in forty battles, and won thirty-seven of them.

When he was not fighting, he was laboring for his living, or he shut himself up in a solitary island, and tilled the soil. He was teacher, sailor, workman, trader, soldier, general, dictator. He was simple, great, and good. He hated all oppressors, he loved all peoples, he protected all the weak; he had no other aspiration than good, he refused honors, he scorned death, he adored Italy. When he uttered his war-cry, legions of valorous men hastened to him from all quarters; gentlemen left their palaces, workmen their s.h.i.+ps, youths their schools, to go and fight in the suns.h.i.+ne of his glory.