old man was gone to
his mother, and that, perhaps, he would have to go back. He wept at
the thought, and then he played with the little, lively dog, and
kissed it, while the old woman looked kindly at him to encourage
him. And what news did Giuseppe bring back? At first the boy could not
hear, for he talked a great deal to his wife, and she nodded and
stroked the boy's cheek.

Then she said, "He is a good lad, he shall stay with us, he may
become a clever glovemaker, like you. Look what delicate fingers he
has got; Madonna intended him for a glovemaker." So the boy stayed
with them, and the woman herself taught him to sew; and he ate well,
and slept well, and became very merry. But at last he began to tease
Bellissima, as the little dog was called. This made the woman angry,
and she scolded him and threatened him, which made him very unhappy,
and he went and sat in his own room full of sad thoughts. This chamber
looked upon the street, in which hung skins to dry, and there were
thick iron bars across his window. That night he lay awake, thinking
of the Metal Pig; indeed, it was always in his thoughts. Suddenly he
fancied he heard feet outside going pit-a-pat. He sprung out of bed
and went to the window. Could it be the Metal Pig? But there was
nothing to be seen; whatever he had heard had passed already. Next
morning, their neighbor, the artist, passed by, carrying a paint-box
and a large roll of canvas.

"Help the gentleman to carry his box of colors," said the woman to
the boy; and he obeyed instantly, took the box, and followed the
painter. They walked on till they reached the picture gallery, and
mounted the same staircase up which he had ridden that night on the
Metal Pig. He remembered all the statues and pictures, the beautiful
marble Venus, and again he looked at the Madonna with the Saviour
and St. John. They stopped before the picture by Bronzino, in which
Christ is represented as standing in the lower world, with the
children smiling before Him, in the sweet expectation of entering
heaven; and the poor boy smiled, too, for here was his heaven.

"You may go home now," said the painter, while the boy stood
watching him, till he had set up his easel.

"May I see you paint?" asked the boy; "may I see you put the
picture on this white canvas?"

"I am not going to paint yet," replied the artist; then he brought
out a piece of chalk. His hand moved quickly, and his eye measured the
great picture; and though n