ssed on the tumultuous
sea, but, borne on the blast that swept the cruel surge, the shrieks of
those shipwrecked sailors seemed to change her weak sinews into cords
of steel. Strength hitherto unsuspected came from somewhere, and the
heroic girl pulled one oar in even time with her father. At length the
nine were safely on board. "God bless you; but ye're a bonny English
lass," said one poor fellow, as he looked wonderingly upon this
marvelous girl, who that day had done a deed which added more to
England's glory than the exploits of many of her monarchs.

"If you will let me try, I think I can make something that will do,"
said a boy who had been employed as a scullion at the mansion of Signer
Faliero, as the story is told by George Cary Eggleston. A large
company had been invited to a banquet, and just before the hour the
confectioner, who had been making a large ornament for the table, sent
word that he had spoiled the piece. "You!" exclaimed the head servant,
in astonishment; "and who are you?" "I am Antonio Canova, the grandson
of Pisano, the stone-cutter," replied the pale-faced little fellow.

"And pray, what can you do?" asked the major-domo. "I can make you
something that will do for the middle of the table, if you'll let me
try." The servant was at his wits' end, so he told Antonio to go ahead
and see what he could do. Calling for some butter, the scullion
quickly molded a large crouching lion, which the admiring major-domo
placed upon the table.

Dinner was announced, and many of the most noted merchants, princes,
and noblemen of Venice were ushered into the dining-room. Among them
were skilled critics of art work. When their eyes fell upon the butter
lion, they forgot the purpose for which they had come in their wonder
at such a work of genius. They looked at the lion long and carefully,
and asked Signer Faliero what great sculptor had been persuaded to
waste his skill upon such a temporary material. Faliero could not
tell; so he asked the head servant, who brought Antonio before the
company.

When the distinguished guests learned that the lion had been made in a
short time by a scullion, the dinner was turned into a feast in his
honor. The rich host declared that he would pay the boy's expenses
under the best masters, and he kept his word. Antonio was not spoiled
by his good fortune, but remained at heart the same simple, earnest,
faithful boy who had tried so hard to become a good stone-