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collar and showed a nice white vest and well-made little pants. In fact he was got up very much like Count Volpi's little boy. These 'contadini' who grudge me a green apple are making heaps of money on my farm.

March 27th. There was a hubbub in the house yesterday.

After the third alarm when N. and I were leaving the trench for the third time, we met in the garden a hopping mad Professor followed by his two maids. He was jabbering fiercely and shaking his two small fists in the air. Amazed, we followed him to the kitchen where he began shouting at Antonio. It turned out that on returning from his third wild flight across the fields with his maids, he found the gate of the vegetable garden locked. He was exhausted and the exertion needed to find another entrance had infuriated him. He pounded on the kitchen table with his fists and even shook them at N. and me. Antonio replied with dignity that he was not in the Professor's service and resented the insults. Antonio's wife, looking guilty, with rounded back continued her sewing. It was indeed she who had locked the gate on returning from the garden with some vegetables. Being devoid of wits she completely forgot that the Sfollati were in the fields and that after the alarm they would come back again. But the little Professor was so worked up that once in his room he went on talking wildly. We could hear him threatening to get us out of the house. We were at his mercy and it was thanks to him that we