Tuesday, 18th.
My new teacher pleases me also, since this morning. While we were coming
in, and when he was already seated at his post, some one of his scholars
of last year every now and then peeped in at the door to salute him;
they would present themselves and greet him:--
"Good morning, Signor Teacher!" "Good morning, Signor Perboni!" Some
entered, touched his hand, and ran away. It was evident that they liked
him, and would have liked to return to him. He responded, "Good
morning," and shook the hands which were extended to him, but he looked
at no one; at every greeting his smile remained serious, with that
perpendicular wrinkle on his brow, with his face turned towards the
window, and staring at the roof of the house opposite; and instead of
being cheered by these greetings, he seemed to suffer from them. Then he
surveyed us attentively, one after the other. While he was dictating, he
descended and walked among the benches, and, catching sight of a boy
whose face was all red with little pimples, he stopped dictating, took
the lad's face between his hands and examined it; then he asked him what
was the matter with him, and laid his hand on his forehead, to feel if
it was hot. Meanwhile, a boy behind him got up on the bench, and began
to play the marionette. The teacher turned round suddenly; the boy
resumed his seat at one dash, and remained there, with head hanging, in
expectation of being punished. The master placed one hand on his head
and said to him:--
"Don't do so again." Nothing more.
Then he returned to his table and finished the dictation. When he had
finished dictating, he looked at us a moment in silence; then he said,
very, very slowly, with his big but kind voice:--
"Listen. We have a year to pass together; let us see that we pass it
well. Study and be good. I have no family; you are my family. Last year
I had still a mother: she is dead. I am left alone. I have no one but
you in all the world; I have no other affection, no other thought than
you: you must be my sons. I wish you well, and you must like me too. I
do not wish to be obliged to punish any one. Show me that you are boys
of heart: our school shall be a family, and you shall be my consolation
and my pride. I do not ask you to give me a promise on your word of
honor; I am sure that in your hearts you have already answered me 'yes,'
and I thank you."
At that moment the beadle entered to announce the close of school. We
all left our seats very, very quietly. The boy who had stood up on the
bench approached the master, and said to him, in a trembling voice:--
"Forgive me, Signor Master."