he great sculptor
Thorwald_sen_.

This sketch is adapted from a story by a poor Danish cobbler's son,
another whose name did not keep him from becoming famous,--Hans
Christian Ander_sen_.

"There is no fear of my starving, father," said the deaf boy, Kitto,
begging to be taken from the poorhouse and allowed to struggle for an
education; "we are in the midst of plenty, and I know how to prevent
hunger. The Hottentots subsist a long time on nothing but a little
gum; they also, when hungry, tie a ligature around their bodies.
Cannot I do so, too? The hedges furnish blackberries and nuts, and the
fields, turnips; a hayrick will make an excellent bed."

The poor deaf boy with a drunken father, who was thought capable of
nothing better than making shoes as a pauper, became one of the
greatest Biblical scholars in the world. His first book was written in
the workhouse.

Creon was a Greek slave, as a writer tells the story in Kate Field's
"Washington," but he was also a slave of the Genius of Art. Beauty was
his god, and he worshiped it with rapt adoration. It was after the
repulse of the great Persian invader, and a law was in force that under
penalty of death no one should espouse art except freemen. When the
law was enacted he was engaged upon a group for which he hoped some day
to receive the commendation of Phidias, the greatest sculptor living,
and even the praise of Pericles.

What was to be done? Into the marble block before him Creon had put
his head, his heart, his soul, his life. On his knees, from day to
day, he had prayed for fresh inspiration, new skill. He believed,
gratefully and proudly, that Apollo, answering his prayers, had
directed his hand and had breathed into the figures the life that
seemed to animate them; but now,--now, all the gods seemed to have
deserted him.

Cleone, his devoted sister, felt the blow as deeply as her brother. "O
Aphrodite!" she prayed, "immortal Aphrodite, high enthroned child of
Zeus, my queen, my goddess, my patron, at whose shrine I have daily
laid my offerings, to be now my friend, the friend of my brother!"

Then to her brother she said: "O Creon, go to the cellar beneath our
house. It is dark, but I will furnish light and food. Continue your
work; the gods will befriend us."

To the cellar Creon went, and guarded and attended by his sister, day
and night, he proceeded with his glorious but dangerous task.

About this time all Greece was invited to Athe