Yes, today I want to post a part of the book Heart, a monthly account. Who among us has not read the book Heart? I think everybody, or at least many. I read when I was 10. I was particularly impressed by this book tells how the situation at the time. A situation written by a third grade child. And it was nice to see how the parents or sister intervened in this diary to write to her son. Here Heart. Sunday the risfogliavo in his hands and read a story: Blood Romagnolo. At the end of the story down my tears from his eyes. Well now I want to paste the story here just this month. I expect many comments:) just to know your reaction.
Good reading.
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Blood Romagnolo
That night the house of Ferruccio was quieter than usual. His father, who kept a small shop of peddlers, went to Forli to make the purchases, and his wife had accompanied him with Luigi, a daughter, take her to a doctor who was to operate an affected eye; and that they would return the next morning. Was shortly before midnight. The woman who came to make the services of day was gone at dusk. At home do was her grandmother, crippled legs, and Ferruccio, a boy of thirteen. It was a small house with only the ground floor, located on the highway, a gunshot from a village not far from Forlì, a city of Romagna, and had next to an empty house, ruined by a fire two months before, on which could still see the sign of an inn. Behind the house there was a small vegetable garden surrounded by a fence, on which he gave a rustic door, the door of the shop, which also served as the front door, opened out on the highway. All around lay the lonely countryside, vast cultivated fields, planted mulberry trees.
was shortly before midnight, it was raining, windy. Ferruccio and his grandmother, still arise, they were in the room for food, which was a closet and a garden littered with old furniture. Ferruccio had not returned home at eleven o'clock, after a trip of several hours, and her grandmother had been waiting with open eyes, full of anxiety, nailed on a large arm-chair, on which he used to spend all day, and often the whole night, for oppression of breath did not let her lie down. It was raining and the wind beat the rain against the windows: the night was very dark. Ferruccio had returned tired, muddy, con la giacchetta lacera, e col livido d'una sassata sulla fronte; aveva fatto la sassaiola coi compagni, eran venuti alle mani, secondo il solito; e per giunta aveva giocato e perduto tutti i suoi soldi, e lasciato il berretto in un fosso.
Benché la cucina non fosse rischiarata che da una piccola lucerna a olio, posta sull'angolo d'un tavolo, accanto al seggiolone, pure la povera nonna aveva visto subito in che stato miserando si trovava il nipote, e in parte aveva indovinato, in parte gli aveva fatto confessare le sue scapestrerie.
Essa amava con tutta l'anima quel ragazzo. Quando seppe ogni cosa, si mise a piangere.
- Ah! no, - disse poi, After a long silence - you have no heart for your poor grandmother. You have no heart in this latter fashion to take advantage of the absence of your father and your mother to give me pain. All day left me alone! Were not you a little 'pity. Bada, Ferruccio! You will put on a bad road that will lead to a sad end. I've seen the other begins as you and go to end badly. You start to run away from home, to quarrel with the other boys to lose money, and then, gradually, we move on to the stone knife, the game the other vices, and vices ... theft.
Ferruccio was to listen, standing three feet away, leaning against a cupboard, with his chin on his chest, his eyebrows frowning, still hot anger of the brawl. He had a lock of fine brown hair to his forehead and across her blue eyes still.
- From game-stealing, - he repeated his grandmother, still crying. - Think about it, Ferruccio. Think about this illness here in the country at that Mozzoni Vito, who is now in town to do the Tramp, who was twenty-four years in prison twice, and did die of a broken heart that poor woman of her mother, that I knew, and his father fled to Switzerland to despair. Think about this sad subject, that your father is ashamed to make it the best, always travels with the worst villains of him, until one day in jail that fall for. Well, I have boy known, began as you. Do you think that will reduce your father and your mother to do the same fate as his.
Ferruccio was silent. He sad he was not of the heart, not at all, its scapestrataggine stemmed rather from the overabundance of life and audacity that bad mood, and her father had just accustomed to this evil, which believed to be able, after all, the most beautiful sentiments, and also made a test of a strong and generous leave the bridle on his neck and waited for him to put trial. Was good rather than sad, but stubborn, and very difficult, even when his heart was close by repentance, to miss those good words from the mouth that make us forgive: - Yes, I'm wrong, do not do it again, I promise you, forgive me. - He had a soul full of tenderness at times, but pride would not let her leave.
- Ferruccio Ah! - Continued his grandmother, seeing how dumb.
- Not a word of repentance, I say! You see in what state I'm small, I could bury. You should have no heart to make me suffer, to mourn the mother of your mother, so old, close to his last day, your poor grandmother, who always gave you loved me so much, you rocked for nights and nights quand ' baby you were a few months and did not eat for playing around, you do not know! I always said:
- This will be my consolation! - And now you make me die! I'd welcome this bit 'of life that remains for me, good to see you return, as obedient to those days ... when it leads you to the Shrine, remember, Ferruccio? I filled his pockets with stones and herbs, and I will bring you home in your arms asleep? Then you loved your poor grandmother. And now that I'm paralyzed and that I need your affection like the air we breathe, because I do not have one in the world, poor women who are half dead, my God ...
Ferruccio was about to jump to his grandmother, overcome by emotion when he thought he heard a slight rumor, a creak in the next cubicle, what gave the orchard. But if they did not understand the shock imposed by the wind, or whatever.
listened.
The rain poured down.
The noise was repeated. The grandmother heard him as well.
- What? - Asked his grandmother after a moment, shocked.
- Rain, - whispered the boy.
- So, Ferruccio, - said the woman, wiping her eyes, - promise me you'll be good, that'll never cry your poor grandmother ...
A new rumor slight interrupted.
- But I do not think the rain! - Exclaimed, turning pale - ... go 'to see!
But he added immediately: - No, stay here! - Ferruccio and grabbed the hand.
They were both with bated breath. Sentivan not that the sound of water.
Then they both had a chill.
one or the other seemed to hear a shuffling of feet in the closet.
- Who's there? - Asked the boy, collecting his breath with difficulty.
No one answered.
- Who's there? - Ridomar Ferruccio, frozen by fear.
But when he had uttered those words, that both of them threw a cry of terror. Two men were shot up in the room, the boy grabbed one and threw a hand over her mouth, the other shook the old to the throat, the former said, - "Shut up, if you do not want to die! - The second: - Silence! - And raised a knife. The one and the other had a dark cloth over his face, with two holes before his eyes.
For a moment he felt nothing but the heavy breathing of all four and the roar of the rain, put the old rents of gasps, and his eyes out of his head.
What kept the boy said in his ear: - Where do you keep the money your father?
The boy answered with a whisper, with chattering teeth: - Beyond ... in the closet.
- Come with me, - said the man.
and dragged him in the closet, holding tight to the throat. There was a lantern on the floor.
- Where is the closet? - Asked.
The boy suffocated, mentioned the wardrobe.
So, to be sure of the boy, the man threw himself on his knees in front of the cabinet, firmly tighten the neck and between his legs, so you can choke if he shouted, and held the knife between his teeth and the lantern from his hand, took from his pocket with the other a sharp iron, stuffed it into the lock, searched, broke, threw open its doors, stirred fury in every What, was filled pockets, closed, came to open rifrugò: then recapture the guy at the throat, and drove back there, where the other was still holding grabbed the old woman, convulsed, his head thrown back and mouth open.
He asked in a low voice: - Found?
mate said: - Found.
And he added: - Look at the door.
What kept the old ran to the door of the garden to see if there was anyone from the closet and said, in a voice that seemed a whistle: - Come on.
what was left, and showed that Ferruccio was still holding the knife to the boy and the old woman who opened my eyes and said - not a voice, or go back and you slew! And they fixed a time both of them.
At that point it felt far to the highway, a song of many voices.
The thief quickly turned his head toward the door, and in that violent motion he drops the handkerchief from his face.
The old woman cast a scream: - Mozzoni!
- Damn! - Roared the thief recognized. - You must die!
a knife and lunged up against the old woman, who fainted on the act.
The murderess brought her the shot.
But with a fast moving, throwing a desperate cry, Ferruccio had launched the grandmother, and had covered with his body.
The murderess escaped hitting the table and knocking over the lamp that went out.
The boy slowly slid over to her grandmother, and fell to his knees, and remained in that attitude, with his arms around her waist and his head on her breast.
few moments passed, it was pitch dark, and the singing of the peasants s'andava away for the season. The old unearthed.
- Ferruccio! - Called in a voice scarcely audible, his teeth chattering.
- Grandma - the boy said.
The old made an effort to speak, but the terror paralyzed her tongue.
He stayed a while in silence, trembling violently. Then he could ask:
- There are more?
- No.
- Do not kill me from, - whispered the old voice soffocata.
- No... siete salva, - disse Ferruccio, con voce fioca. - Siete salva, cara nonna. Hanno portato via dei denari. Ma il babbo... aveva preso quasi tutto con sé.
La nonna mise un respiro.
- Nonna, - disse Ferruccio, sempre in ginocchio, stringendola alla vita, - cara nonna... mi volete bene, non è vero?
- Oh Ferruccio! povero figliuol mio! - rispose quella, mettendogli le mani sul capo, - che spavento devi aver avuto! Oh Signore Iddio misericordioso! Accendi un po' di lume... No, restiamo al buio, ho ancora paura.
- Nonna, - riprese il ragazzo, - io have I ever given the troubles ...
- No, Ferruccio, do not say these things, I do not think about it, I forgot everything, I love you so much!
- V'ho always given sorrows, - Ferruccio continued, with difficulty, his voice trembling - but ... I have always loved you. Excuse me? ... Forgive me, grandmother
- Yes, son, I forgive, I forgive you with all my heart. Just think 'if you do not lose. Get out of his knees, my child. Do not scold you anymore. You're good, you're so good! Light the lamp. Let's have a little 'courage. Arise, Ferruccio.
- Thank you, grandmother, - said the boy, his voice growing weaker. - Now ... I am happy. You will remember me, Grandma ... is not it? I will always remember me ... your Ferruccio.
- Ferruccio mine! - Said the grandmother, surprised and uneasy, putting his hands on his shoulders and bending her head, as if looking in the face.
- Remember me - even whispered the boy with a voice like a whisper. - Give a kiss to my mother ... my father ... Luigina to ... Goodbye, Grandma ...
- In heaven's name, what you have! - Cried the old woman feverishly palpating the head of the boy she had given up on his knees, and then with what voice he had in his throat desperately: - Ferruccio! Ferruccio! Ferruccio! Bambino mio! Amor mio! Angeli del paradiso, aiutatemi!
Ma Ferruccio non rispose più. Il piccolo eroe, il salvatore della madre di sua madre, colpito d'una coltellata nel dorso, aveva reso la bella e ardita anima a Dio.
FINE
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Un saluto a tutti
Alfy
