rgely of this humble sort. We can imagine, however, that his fond
father did not make his hours long, and that there were pleasant
ramblings in the woods nearby, and that many a bunch of flowers was
gathered for the mother at home. There were happy hours, too, when the
father and his son read together great books of poetry in which tales
of love and knightly encounters were interesting parts. And then, I am
sure, there were other happy hours when, tuning their instruments
together, they filled the time with music's sweetest discourse.

[Illustration: RAPHAEL.]

This was indeed a happy childhood, a fit beginning for an ideal life.
Meanwhile the boy grew strong, and his beauty, too, increased. The
dark hair lay lightly upon his shoulders, and a certain dreaminess in
his eyes deepened,--he was about to feel a great sorrow, for the
father, so devoted, so exemplary, died when his boy was but eleven
years old. We cannot help wishing that he might have lived to see at
least one great picture painted by his son. We can easily imagine his
smile of joy "at the first stroke that surpassed what he could do."

Just what to do with the boy on the death of his father was an
important matter for the step-mother and uncle to decide. They showed
wisdom by their decision. Now, the greatest of all the Umbrian
painters, before Raphael, was a queer little miserly man named
Perugino, who at that time had a studio in Perugia, an Umbrian town
not far distant from Urbino. Although he was of mean appearance and
ignoble character, he had an unmistakable power in painting mild-eyed
Madonnas and spotless saints against delicate landscape back-grounds.
People disliked the man, but they could not help seeing the beauty of
his art, and so his studio was crowded. Hither was sent the boy
Raphael and when Perugino noted the lad and some of his work, he said,
"Let him be my pupil: he will soon become my master." As nearly as we
can learn, he remained in this studio nine years, from 1495 to 1504.

Perugino's style of painting greatly pleased Raphael. He was naturally
teachable and this, with his admiration for Perugino's pictures, made
his first work in the studio very much like his master's. Indeed it is
almost impossible to tell some of his earliest pictures from those of
his teacher. Let me tell you about one. It is called "_The Marriage of
the Virgin_"; and you would have to go to the Brera gallery in Milan
to see it.

The legend runs thus: The b