ttle Canova played at it and at
other things, such as modelling in clay, drawing, etc. The old
grandfather, plain, uneducated man as he was, soon discovered that the
pale-faced little fellow at his side had something more than an ordinary
child's dexterity at such things.

The boy knew nothing of art or of its laws, but he fashioned his lumps
of clay into forms of real beauty. His wise grandfather, seeing what
this indicated, hired a teacher to give him some simple lessons in
drawing, so that he might improve himself if he really had the artistic
ability which the old man suspected. Pisano was much too poor, as he
knew, ever to give the boy an art-education and make an artist of him,
but he thought that Antonio might at least learn to be a better
stone-cutter than common.

As the boy grew older he began to help in the shop during the day, while
in the evening his grandmother told him stories or sang or recited
poetry to him. All these things were educating him, though without his
knowing it, for they were awakening his taste and stimulating his
imagination, which found expression in the clay models that he loved to
make in his leisure hours.

It so happened that Signor Faliero, the head of a noble Venetian family,
and a man of rare understanding in art, had a place near Pisano's house,
and at certain seasons the nobleman entertained many distinguished
guests there. When the palace was very full of visitors, old Pisano was
sometimes hired to help the servants with their tasks, and the boy
Canova, when he was twelve years old, sometimes did scullion's work
there, also, for a day, when some great feast was given.

On one of these occasions, when the Signor Faliero was to entertain a
very large company at dinner, young Canova was at work over the pots and
pans in the kitchen. The head-servant made his appearance, just before
the dinner hour, in great distress.

The man who had been engaged to furnish the great central ornament for
the table had, at the last moment, sent word that he had spoiled the
piece. It was now too late to secure another, and there was nothing to
take its place. The great vacant space in the centre of the table
spoiled the effect of all that had been done to make the feast artistic
in appearance, and it was certain that Signor Faliero would be sorely
displeased.

But what was to be done? The poor fellow whose business it was to
arrange the table was at his wits' end.

While every one stood dis