Adapted from "HEART"
By Edmondo De Amicis

FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL
Today is the first day of school. My name is Enrico. I am a student at Baretti school. This is a big and beautiful school with a lot of students.
After three months of holidays, I am going to start the third elementary course. I am eight years old.
The two book-shops near the school are crowded with fathers and mothers buying bags, pencils, pens, and notebooks.
My teacher of the second class is near the door, cheerful, as usual. Her name is Mrs. Delcati.
“So we are separated forever, Enrico?”
And that is true. This year I am not going to be with her. My little brother is in the class of Mrs. Delcati. I am with Mr. Perboni, up stairs on the first floor.
At nine o’clock we start our classes and we finish at half past two. We also have two breaks during the morning.

OUR SCHOOL
Our school is a very modern and beautiful building for boys and girls. There are about four hundred students. There is the headmaster's office between the school office and the staff room. In front of it, you can see the Arts room and the computers room. There is also a gym next to the canteen. I think that there are thirty classrooms and a very big library.
Our headmaster is called ... Well, I can't remember his name. He is tall and bald, and wears gold spectacles, with a gray beard that flows down upon his breast; he dresses entirely in black, but he is a good person. Everytime a student comes to his room he speaks to him in a kind manner.
We are twenty-eight students in my class, but only fifteen or sixteen of my companions of the second class, among them, Derossi, the one who always gets the first prize.

MY FRIEND GARRONE.
My best friend at school is Garrone. He is also eight years old and he is in my class since the first course. He is tall, strong and fat and a very funny boy. Whenever someone is in trouble, he shouts "Garrone" and my friend goes to help him or her.
He can lift a bench with one hand; he is always eating; and he is good. Whatever he is asked for,—a pencil, rubber, sharpener, paper, or scissors,—he lends or gives it without any problem.
He makes me laugh, because, tall and fat as he is, he has a jacket, trousers, and sleeves which are too small for him. His father is an engine-driver on the railway.
The master is always glancing at him, and when he passes near him he taps him on the neck with his hand, as if he is a good, young bull. I am very fond of him. I am happy when I press his big hand, which seems to be the hand of a man, in mine. I am almost certain that he would risk his life to save that of a comrade.

THE HEAD OF THE CLASS.
Garrone attracts the love of all; Derossi, the admiration. He is always the first, and this year also; no one can compete with him; we all recognize his superiority in all points. He is the first in arithmetic, in grammar, in composition, in learning a foreign language, in geography, in drawing; he understands everything on the instant; he has a marvellous memory; he succeeds in everything without effort.
He is also eight years old. He is, moreover, tall and handsome. His father is a merchant.
He gives away illustrated papers and drawings to any person with a smile. He has no favoritism for anybody. We all envy him. It is impossible not to do it.
He has to prepare for tomorrow a reading in front of all the class about a story called The Little Vidette of Lombardy. I am sure he will be once again the best.

OUR TEACHER.
Mr. Perboni is tall; he has no beard; his hair is gray and long; and he has a wrinkle on his forehead: he has a big voice, and he looks at us fixedly, it seems that he is reading our inner thoughts; and he never smiles.
I will always remember his words on the first day of school:
"Listen. We have a year to pass together; let us see that we pass it well. Study and be good. I have no family; you are my family. Last year I still had a mother: she is dead. I am left alone. I have no one but you in all the world; I have no other affection, no other thought than you: you must be my sons. I wish you well, and you must like me too. I do not wish to be obliged to punish any one. Show me that you are boys of heart: our school shall be a family, and you shall be my consolation and my pride. I do not ask you to give me a promise on your word of honor; I am sure that in your hearts you have already answered me ‘yes,’ and I thank you.”