the kitchen table there was a large square lump of yellow butter.
Two hundred pounds the lump weighed, and it had just come in, fresh
and clean, from the dairy on the mountain. With a kitchen knife in his
hand, Antonio began to cut and carve this butter. In a few minutes he
had molded it into the shape of a crouching lion; and all the servants
crowded around to see it.

"How beautiful!" they cried. "It is a great deal pret-ti-er than the
statue that was broken."

When it was finished, the man carried it to its place.

"The table will be hand-som-er by half than I ever hoped to make it,"
he said.

When the Count and his friends came in to dinner, the first thing they
saw was the yellow lion.

"What a beautiful work of art!" they cried. "None but a very great
artist could ever carve such a figure; and how odd that he should
choose to make it of butter!" And then they asked the Count to tell
them the name of the artist.

[Illustration: "The servants crowded around to see it."]

"Truly, my friends," he said, "this is as much of a surprise to me as
to you." And then he called to his head servant, and asked him where
he had found so wonderful a statue.

"It was carved only an hour ago by a little boy in the kitchen," said
the servant.

This made the Count's friends wonder still more; and the Count bade
the servant call the boy into the room.

"My lad," he said, "you have done a piece of work of which the
greatest artists would be proud. What is your name, and who is your
teacher?"

"My name is Antonio Canova," said the boy, "and I have had no teacher
but my grandfather the stonecutter."

By this time all the guests had crowded around Antonio. There were
famous artists among them, and they knew that the lad was a genius.
They could not say enough in praise of his work; and when at last they
sat down at the table, nothing would please them but that Antonio
should have a seat with them; and the dinner was made a feast in his
honor.

The very next day the Count sent for Antonio to come and live with
him. The best artists in the land were em-ployed to teach him the art
in which he had shown so much skill; but now, instead of carving
butter, he chis-eled marble. In a few years, Antonio Canova became
known as one of the greatest sculptors in the world.

PICCIOLA.

Many years ago there was a poor gentleman shut up in one of the great
prisons of France. His name was Char-ney, and he was very sad and
un-h