It bore the arms of
Italy on one side and a pigeon on the other, with the inscription, "De
virtute." [Footnote: For courage.]
On the eventful day in the office of the War Department, after the
presentation had been made, the General further addressed the boy who
stood, all trembling at the honor that had come to his Chico.
"Special orders, my lad, have come from Rome that something shall be done
for you."
As he paused, Andrea protested, "No, No! it is enough--the medal is
enough!"
"The orders on this point are most explicit." The General's tone was
positive. "Come tell us, what is your ambition?"
"To be an aviator, signore, in the service of my country," was the
stammering answer.
"Bene! It shall be done. Your expenses shall be paid to the best government
school of aviation, and, from this time on, an income of one hundred and
fifty lire a month shall be allowed your parents, for it is understood your
father has aged greatly in the service of his country."
Andrea bowed his head. He had no words to express his gratitude. But, once
outside, he ran every step of the way home, in his eagerness to tell the
wonderful news.
* * * * *
The Great War is now a matter of history, and once more tourists are
flocking to Venice. Again gay laughter is heard on the Grand Canal. The
little shops that line the sides of the Piazza of St. Mark's are now bright
with glittering strands of beads, while the women are once more busy with
their bobbins.
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