re was the dwarf, slit and fanged
from ear to ear at his expense, and laughing like a lion. Nature,
relenting at having made Giles so small, had given him as a set-off the
biggest voice on record. His very whisper was a bassoon. He was like
those stunted wide-mouthed pieces of ordnance we see on fortifications;
more like a flower-pot than a cannon; but ods tympana how they bellow!

Gerard turned red with anger, the more so as the others began to titter.
White Catherine saw, and a pink tinge came on her cheek. She said
softly, "Why do you laugh? Is it because he is our brother you think
he cannot be capable? Yes, Gerard, try with the rest. Many say you are
skilful; and mother and I will pray the Virgin to guide your hand."

"Thank you, little Kate. You shall pray to our Lady, and our mother
shall buy me vellum and the colours to illuminate with."

"What will they cost, my lad?"

"Two gold crowns" (about three shillings and fourpence English money).

"What!" screamed the housewife, "when the bushel of rye costs but a
groat! What! me spend a month's meal and meat and fire on such vanity as
that: the lightning from Heaven would fall on me, and my children would
all be beggars."

"Mother!" sighed little Catherine, imploringly.

"Oh! it is in vain, Kate," said Gerard, with a sigh. "I shall have to
give it up, or ask the dame Van Eyck. She would give it me, but I think
shame to be for ever taking from her."

"It is not her affair," said Catherine, very sharply; "what has she to
do coming between me and my son?" and she left the room with a red
face. Little Catherine smiled. Presently the housewife returned with a
gracious, affectionate air, and two little gold pieces in her hand.

"There, sweetheart," said she, "you won't have to trouble dame or
demoiselle for two paltry crowns."

But on this Gerard fell a thinking how he could spare her purse.

"One will do, mother. I will ask the good monks to let me send my copy
of their 'Terence:' it is on snowy vellum, and I can write no better:
so then I shall only need six sheets of vellum for my borders and
miniatures, and gold for my ground, and prime colours--one crown will
do.'

"Never tyne the ship for want of a bit of tar, Gerard," said his
changeable mother. But she added, "Well, there, I will put the crown in
my pocket. That won't be like putting it back in the box. Going to the
box to take out instead of putting in, it is like going to my heart with
a knife for so