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

THE MOTHER. 49
morrow, shutting his eyes and remaining immovable to try and
fall asleep with that sweet thought, but always
in vain. Still
that sweet thought did not bring him peace ; his body was
motionless, his eyes closed, but his heart kept on beating as
if to say : " You shall not sleep ; you shall not sleep ! " so
that after a short time he was obliged to open his eyes and
look around again. So many long hours passed. Finally
weariness conquered ;
the heart was silent, and the busy
fancy still. He slept ;
dreamed of the morrow ;
dreamed of his
mother. He seemed to see her there, erect and smiling beside
his pillow ;
he seemed to feel her pass her hand over his brow,
and he dreamed that he seized and placed his lips upon it.
Then, suddenly, he felt that he had become a child again, at
home ; and, one by one, there came to his mind a hundred little
scenes from his early life,
and in those scenes his mother was
always comforting him when weeping, or defending him when
threatened by his father, or nursing him if hurt by a fall, taking
care of him when ilF; and always full of pity and solicitude,
always loving, always the mother ! Then
he dreamed he was
grown up ;
recalled the day of his departure ;
his mother's tears,
the long embraces, words of farewell, and comfort given and
received ;
and he felt his heart-strings tighten just as they did
that day ;
he felt around his waist the arms of his mother who
would not let him go ;
tried to free himself, could not do so,
uttered a groan, and awoke. He looked around, thought, came
to himself, and that was a moment of
joy which can be better
imagined than expressed.
Down in the court-yard of the barracks a noisy sound of drums
broke out. All dashed from their beds. He dressed in haste,
and with the others performed all the duties of the morning