Military life in Italy : sketches - Societa italiana di storia militare

THE SON OF THE REGIMENT. 85
But at the end of little more than a week he became as quick
and full of life as a drummer ;
he was the friend of all the soldiers
in our company, of a great portion of the soldiers in the
others, and of all the officers in the regiment. Then he began
to lead a life both busy and useful to himself and others. He
slept in our tent. In the morning at the first roll of the drum
he was on his feet and disappeared. We were not well awake
when he had returned from the kitchen of our battalion
coffee, rum, or rosolio, and "Mr. Officer,"
with
he said in a respectful
voice, " it is time . . ." "Time for what ? " we muttered
in a sharp, rough voice, rubbing our " eyes. Time for
you to get up."
" Ah ! it 's
you, is it, Carluccio ? Give your
hand," and we gave him a squeeze of the hand that put him in
good-humor for the rest of the day.
He disputed the work with our orderlies ;
wished to brush
our clothes ; polish our buttons, swords, and boots ;
wash shirts
and handkerchiefs ;
he wished to do every thing himself, and
he humbly begged first one soldier and then the other to give
him something to do, that he would do it so gladly, and try
his utmost to do it well, and that it was necessary for him to
learn it at any cost. Sometimes we were obliged to take things
out of his hands, and say to him with some severity
:
" Do
what I tell you to do, and nothing more." And really we
were forced to
be very severe, because we could not allow him
to play the servant to us. Why, poor boy ? Had we brought
him with us for this sole purpose ? He was afraid that gradually
we should grow tired of him, although we did nothing but
overwhelm him with caresses, and surround him with care and
courtesy.
It seemed to him that if he did not work we should
think him a useless appendage in the end, and for this reason