nt, who gave them the history
of the centerpiece. Antonio was immediately summoned to the banquet
hall, where he blushingly received the praises and congratulations of
all present, and the promise of Signer Falieri to become his patron,
and thus enable him to achieve fame as a sculptor.

Such, according to some biographers, was the turning point in the
career of Antonio Canova, who, from a peasant lad, born in the little
Venetian village of Possagno, rose to be the most illustrious sculptor
of his age.

Whether or not the story be true, it is certain that when the boy was
in his thirteenth year, Signer Falieri placed him in the studio of
Toretto, a Venetian sculptor, then living near Asola. But it is equally
certain that the fame which crowned Canova's manhood, the title of
Marquis of Ischia, the decorations and honors so liberally bestowed
upon him by the ruler of the Vatican, kings, princes, and emperors,
were all the fruits of his ceaseless industry, high ideals, and
unfailing enthusiasm.

The little Antonio began to draw almost as soon as he could hold a
pencil, and the gown of the dear old grandmother who so tenderly loved
him, and was so tenderly loved in return, often bore the marks of baby
fingers fresh from modeling in clay.

Antonio's father having died when the child was but three years old,
his grandfather, Pisano, hoped that he would succeed him as village
stonecutter and sculptor. Delicate though the little fellow had been
from birth, at nine years of age he was laboring, as far as his
strength would permit, in Pisano's workshop. But in the evening, after
the work of the day was done, with pencil or clay he tried to give
expression to the poetic fancies he had imbibed from the ballads and
legends of his native hills, crooned to him in infancy by his
grandmother.

Under Toretto his genius developed so rapidly that the sculptor spoke
of one of his creations as "a truly marvelous production." He was then
only thirteen. Later we find him in Venice, studying and working with
ever increasing zeal. Though Signor Falieri would have been only too
glad to supply the youth's needs, he was too proud to be dependent on
others. Speaking of this time, he says: "I labored for a mere pittance,
but it was sufficient. It was the fruit of my own resolution, and, as I
then flattered myself, the foretaste of more honorable rewards, for I
never thought of wealth."

Too poor to hire a workshop or studio, through the kindn