othing appeared but a faint line, the
figure of the Saviour was as clearly visible as in the colored
picture.

"Why don't you go?" said the painter. Then the boy wandered home
silently, and seated himself on the table, and learned to sew
gloves. But all day long his thoughts were in the picture gallery; and
so he pricked his fingers and was awkward. But he did not tease
Bellissima. When evening came, and the house door stood open, he
slipped out. It was a bright, beautiful, starlight evening, but rather
cold. Away he went through the already-deserted streets, and soon came
to the Metal Pig; he stooped down and kissed its shining nose, and
then seated himself on its back.

"You happy creature," he said; "how I have longed for you! we must
take a ride to-night."

But the Metal Pig lay motionless, while the fresh stream gushed
forth from its mouth. The little boy still sat astride on its back,
when he felt something pulling at his clothes. He looked down, and
there was Bellissima, little smooth-shaven Bellissima, barking as if
she would have said, "Here I am too; why are you sitting there?"

A fiery dragon could not have frightened the little boy so much as
did the little dog in this place. "Bellissima in the street, and not
dressed!" as the old lady called it; "what would be the end of this?"

The dog never went out in winter, unless she was attired in a
little lambskin coat which had been made for her; it was fastened
round the little dog's neck and body with red ribbons, and was
decorated with rosettes and little bells. The dog looked almost like a
little kid when she was allowed to go out in winter, and trot after
her mistress. And now here she was in the cold, and not dressed. Oh,
how would it end? All his fancies were quickly put to flight; yet he
kissed the Metal Pig once more, and then took Bellissima in his
arms. The poor little thing trembled so with cold, that the boy ran
homeward as fast as he could.

"What are you running away with there?" asked two of the police
whom he met, and at whom the dog barked. "Where have you stolen that
pretty dog?" they asked; and they took it away from him.

"Oh, I have not stolen it; do give it to me back again," cried the
boy, despairingly.

"If you have not stolen it, you may say at home that they can send
to the watch-house for the dog." Then they told him where the
watch-house was, and went away with Bellissima.

Here was a dreadful trouble. The boy did not know w