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

THE MOTHER. 53
his arm and body a trembling arm, and with his left hand,
keeping his eyes quite motionless all the time, he felt the air to
the right, as high as his side, in search of his mother's hand.
Then he came to himself ; the thought
that within a few
moments he would embrace his mother returned clearly to his
mind, and he felt, as at first, all its sweetness ; his eyes
brightened, his lips trembled, all his features gleamed with joy.
A slight smile, then a broad one, then came a convulsive laugh ;
his chest and shoulders rose and fell as after a breathless race ;
and finally he threw himself upon
the bed with his face in his
hands and gave way to a mixture of tears and laughter, still
shaking his head as if to " "
say Poor mother : !
" " Are you going mad ? shouted the corporal while crossing
the dormitory and stopping
at the door-way through which he
was to pass out.
The soldier started, rose to his feet, turned, and looked at
him with his eyes full of tears, his lips parted with a smile ;
he had not understood him. The corporal disappeared murmuring
" "
He is mad : ;
he is mad !
When left alone, he stood meditatively for a moment ; then,
struck by a sudden thought, seized his knapsack leaning
against the bread-shelf, drew it down on to the bed, opened it
after having played for a time with the buckles of the straps,
dove into it with both
combs, boxes, and rags ;
hands, and drew out hurriedly brushes,
placed them all on the coverlid, seized
a brush, put his foot on the edge of one of the bed slats, leaned
over, and began to polish his boots with all his might, stopping
from time to time to see if
they were shining well.
" I must be clean," he said to himself with a serious face,
continuing his work with the brush ;
" I wish to shine like a