ul woman, as radiantly beautiful as nature and the art of one of
the great masters could make her. Her graceful limbs appeared to move;
dolphins sprang at her feet, and immortality shone from her eyes. The
world called her the "Venus de' Medici." By her side were statues of
stone, in which the spirit of life breathed; figures of men, one of whom
whetted his sword and was named "The Grinder"; fighting gladiators, for
whom the sword had been sharpened, and who strove for the goddess of
beauty. The boy was dazzled by so much glitter, for the walls were
gleaming with bright colors. Life and movement were in everything.

As they passed from hall to hall, beauty showed itself in whatever they
saw; and, as the Metal Pig went step by step from one picture to
another, the little boy could see it all plainly. One glory eclipsed
another; yet there was one picture that fixed itself on the little boy's
memory more especially, because of the happy children it represented;
for these the little boy had seen in daylight. Many pass this picture
with indifference, and yet it contains a treasure of poetic feeling. It
represents Christ descending into Hades. It is not those who are lost
that one sees, but the heathen of olden times.

The Florentine, Angiolo Bronzino, painted this picture. Most beautiful
is the expression on the faces of two children who appear to have full
confidence that they shall reach heaven at last. They are embracing each
other, and one little one stretches out his hand towards another who
stands below them, and points to himself as if he were saying, "I am
going to heaven." The older people stand as if uncertain yet hopeful,
and bow in humble adoration to the Lord Jesus. On this picture the boy's
eyes rested longer than on any other, and the Metal Pig stood still
before it. A low sigh was heard. Did it come from the picture or from
the animal? The boy raised his hands toward the smiling children, and
then the pig ran off with him through the open vestibule.

"Thank you, thank you, you beautiful animal," said the little boy,
caressing the Metal Pig as it ran down the steps.

"Thanks to yourself also," replied the Metal Pig. "I have helped you and
you have helped me, for it is only when I have an innocent child on my
back that I receive the power to run. Yes, as you see, I can even
venture under the rays of the lamp in front of the picture of the
Madonna, but I must not enter the church. Still, from without, and whil