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

THE OFFICER OF THE GUARD. 2$
fly to the door, open it, seize the lantern in the guard-room,
and away through the dormitories to play my part
. . .
Here he blew out the candle, drew the
counterpane over his
head, turned on to his side, sought a comfortable position, and
closed his " eyes, thinking
: And away through the dormitories
to play my part."
" Oh, it is a luxury to dash into bed after working all day !
What a profession
! And
to think that with all my efforts I
can never satisfy that old dotard of a captain. The meat is
underdone ! Whose fault is it ? Mine. The stairs are dirty
!
Who is to blame for it ? I
;
the devil ! The dormitories are
in disorder ! Who gets hauled over the coals for it ? I, I, always
!
I. No one but me. Whew
What a good bed ! And
to hear certain people say that we have nothing to do but fill
the cafes with smoke and run after the girls.
Let them try for
themselves, now that the whole world is
looking on with expectancy
with that . . .
. . .
magnificent pay and
the taxes . . .
Little by little, wandering along in this defence of himself,
his thoughts and ideas grew confused ;
the captain, the major,
the wife, the expectation, the taxes, grew into a curious muddle,
which ended finally in profound slumber.
But he had not fallen asleep without a little anxiety and remorse.
Every time the idea of the round came to his mind he
felt a slight twinge of conscience. The same thing happens to
the truant from school who goes off to make snow-balls with
his companions the ; image of his master and his mother assail
him from time to time, and the more he attempts to drive
them away the more they return to torment and bite him like
a fly.