第9章 IN AN ATTIC.Friday,28th.

Yesterday afternoon I went with my mother and my sister Sylvia,to carry the linen to the poor woman recommended by the newspaper:I carried the bundle;Sylvia had the paper with the initials of the name and the address.We climbed to the very roof of a tall house,to a long corridor with many doors.My mother knocked at the last;it was opened by a woman who was still young,blond and thin,and it instantly struck me that I had seen her many times before,with that very same blue kerchief that she wore on her head.

“Are you the person of whom the newspaper says so and so?”asked my mother.

“Yes,signora,I am.”

“Well,we have brought you a little linen.”Then the woman began to thank us and bless us,and could not make enough of it.Meanwhile I espied in one corner of the bare,dark room,a boy kneeling in front of a chair,with his back turned towards us,who appeared to be writing;and he really was writing,with his paper on the chair and his inkstand on the floor.How did he manage to write thus in the dark?While I was saying this to myself,I suddenly recognized the red hair and the coarse jacket of Crossi,the son of the vegetable-pedler,the boy with the useless arm.I told my mother softly,while the woman was putting away the things.

“Hush!”replied my mother;“perhaps he will feel ashamed to see you giving alms to his mother:don't speak to him.”

But at that moment Crossi turned round;I was embarrassed;he smiled,and then my mother gave me a push,so that I should run to him and embrace him.I did embrace him:he rose and took me by the hand.

“Here I am,”his mother was saying in the meantime to my mother,“alone with this boy,my husband in America these seven years,and I sick in addition,so that I can no longer make my rounds with my vegetables,and earn a few cents.We have not even a table left for my poor Luigino to do his work on.When there was a bench down at the door,he could,at least,write on the bench;but that has been taken away.He has not even a little light so that he can study without ruining his eyes.And it is a mercy that I can send him to school,since the city provides him with books and copy-books.Poor Luigino,who would be so glad to study!Unhappy woman,that I am!”

My mother gave her all that she had in her purse,kissed the boy,and almost wept as we went out.And she had good cause to say to me:“Look at that poor boy;see how he is forced to work,when you have every comfort,and yet study seems hard to you!Ah!Enrico,there is more merit in the work which he does in one day,than in your work for a year.It is to such that the first prizes should be given!”

贫民窟 二十八日

昨日午后，我和母亲、雪尔维姐姐三人，送布给新闻上所记载的穷妇人。我拿了布，姐姐拿了写着那妇人住址姓名的条子。我们到了一处很高的住宅的屋顶小阁里，那里有长的走廊，沿廊有许多室，母亲到最末了的一室敲了门。门开了，走出一个年纪还轻，白色而瘦小的妇人来。是一向时常看见的妇人，头上常常包着青布。

“你就是新闻上所说的那位吗？”母亲问。

“呃，是的。”

“那么，有点布在这里，请你收了。”

那妇人非常欢喜，好像说不出答谢的话来。这时我瞥见有一个小孩，在那没有家具的暗腾腾的小室里，背向外，靠着椅子好像在写字。仔细一看，确是在那里写字，椅子上摊着纸，墨水瓶摆在地板上。我想，这样黑暗的屋子里，如何能写字呢。忽然看见那小孩长着赤发，穿着破的上衣，才恍然悟到：原来这就是那卖菜人家的儿子克洛西，就是那一只手有残疾的克洛西。乘他母亲正收拾东西的时候，我轻轻地将这告诉了母亲。

“不要作声！”母亲说，“如果他觉得自己的母亲，受朋友的布施，多么难为情呢。不要作声！”

可是，恰巧这时克洛西回过头来了。我不知要怎样才好，克洛西对着我微笑。母亲背地里向我背后一推，我就进去抱住克洛西，克洛西立起来握我的手。

克洛西的母亲对我母亲说：

“我只是娘儿两个。丈夫这七年来一直在亚美利加，我又生了病。不能再挑了菜去卖，什么桌子等类的东西都已卖尽，弄得这孩子读书都为难，要点盏小小的灯也不能够，眼睛也要有病了。幸而教科书、笔记簿有市公所送给，总算勉强地进了学校。可怜！他到学校去是很欢喜的，但是……像我这样的不幸的人，是再没有的了！”

母亲把钱包中所有的钱都拿出来给了她，吻了克洛西，出来几乎哭了。于是对我说：

“安利柯啊！你看那个可爱的孩子！他不是很刻苦地用功吗？像你，是什么都自由的，还说用功苦呢！啊！真的！那孩子一日的勤勉，比你一年的勤勉，价值不知要大多少呢！像那小孩，才是应该受一等奖的哩！”