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

DEPARTURE AND RETURN. 345
of the station, and the three palaces of the Via Nizza !
Here is
that window ! Heavens ! who
is at the window, who is raising
and dropping his arms by way of a salute ! It is he ! it is he !
it is !
papa What do I hear and see ? The music ! the
torches !
Every thing just as on that evening ! The train stops,
I spring to the ground, run out, here is the crowd, here
they all are. They have seen me, and open their arms . . .
Ah, my mother ! I still feel around my neck the firm pressure
of those two trembling arms, I hear that music, and still see that
light.
We are at the house door,
it
opens, I throw myself
into the
arms of my good papa, who is
laughing and crying, without
being able to utter one word ;
here are all his grandchildren, a
kiss for each, and such a hearty one that it will leave a mark ;
here is the Neapolitan lady and her son. " Thanks for the
topographical map," I say, and they all laugh.
Other neighbors
arrive ;
I am able to hear the impetuous assault of all kinds of
greetings, congratulations, pressures of the hand, and questions ;
my mother catches hold of me, disputes the possession of me
with all, looks at me, touches my arms, hands, and shoulders to
see if all of me has returned ; my
sisters take turns in embracing
me, and come and kiss me over again ;
the children
jump around me and it is a regular fete.
Finally, little by little, the neighbors and friends go away ;
my eldest sister returns to her home, the other goes to bed,
with tears in her eyes ; my brother leaves the house, and only
my mother and I remain.
Hardly are we alone, when we sit down opposite each other,
drawing our chairs close together and seizing each other's hands,
as if we were lovers when left without any lookers on, and my