damp earth shall one day press on us in the grave.

In the garden of the grand duke's palace, under the roof of one of the
wings, where a thousand roses bloom in winter, a little ragged boy had
been sitting the whole day long. The boy might serve as a type of Italy:
lovely and smiling, and yet suffering. He was hungry and thirsty, but no
one gave him anything; and when it became dark and they were about to
close the gardens, the porter turned him out. A long time he stood
musing on the bridge which crosses the Arno and looking at the
glittering stars that were reflected in the water which flowed between
him and the wonderful marble bridge Delia Trinita. He then walked away
towards the Metal Pig, half knelt down, clasped it with his arms, and,
putting his mouth to the shining snout, drank deep draughts of the fresh
water. Close by lay a few salad leaves and two chestnuts, which were to
serve for his supper. No one was in the street but himself. It belonged
only to him. He boldly seated himself on the pig's back, leaned forward
so that his curly head could rest on the head of the animal, and, before
he was aware, fell asleep.

It was midnight. The Metal Pig raised himself gently, and the boy heard
him say quite distinctly, "Hold tight, little boy, for I am going to
run"; and away he started for a most wonderful ride. First they arrived
at the Piazza del Granduca, and the metal horse which bears the duke's
statue neighed aloud. The painted coats of arms on the old council house
shone like transparent pictures, and Michelangelo's "David" swung his
sling. It was as if everything had life. The metallic groups of figures,
among which were "Perseus" and "The Rape of the Sabines," looked like
living persons, and cries of terror sounded from them all across the
noble square. By the Palazzo degli Uffizi, in the arcade where the
nobility assembled for the carnival, the Metal Pig stopped. "Hold fast,"
said the animal, "hold fast, for I am going upstairs."

The little boy said not a word. He was half pleased and half afraid.
They entered a long gallery, where the boy had been before. The walls
were resplendent with paintings, and here and there stood statues and
busts, all in a clear light as if it were day. The grandest sight
appeared when the door of a side room opened. The little boy could
remember what beautiful things he had seen there, but to-night
everything shone in its brightest colors. Here stood the figure of a
beautif