"Here he is," said my father.
I turned round with a start. The two firemen, having completed their
inspection, were traversing the room in order to reach the door.
My father pointed to the smaller of the men, who had straps of gold
braid, and said, "Shake hands with Corporal Robbino."
The corporal halted, and offered me his hand; I pressed it; he made a
salute and withdrew.
"And bear this well in mind," said my father; "for out of the thousands
of hands which you will shake in the course of your life there will
probably not be ten which possess the worth of his."