"tonin, tonin, come out with us to the river! luigi has built a raft, and we're going to pole it down to the second bridge."

five boys, bareheaded, barefooted, dirty-faced, and joyful, grouped themselves before a mud-walled alpine cabin, the last of a quaint village row, while pablo, their leader, hailed some one within.

instantly there appeared in the doorway a boy of their own age, clad as roughly and lightly as themselves. his blouse was loosened comfortably at the throat, his trousers were rolled well above the knee, and over these cool garments he wore a hempen working-apron which was held in place by a stout cord attached to its upper corners[pg 177] and passing about his neck. in one hand he held a small steel hammer, in the other a chisel.

"come on, tonin," repeated pablo, pointing excitedly toward the brook.

the lad in the doorway shook his head and lifted his chisel meaningly, as though no additional explanation were needed.

"oh, do, do!" urged the new-comers. "leave your old stone-chipping for an hour and come with us. we'll let you pole all the time if you will."

"i can't," returned the other briefly.

"please come! come along!" insisted four alluring voices, but pablo turned away impatiently.

"leave that sullen tonin alone! he'd rather bang away at his grandfather's stones than go with us on the jolliest jaunt we could name. come on, and let him stay by himself."

thereupon the boys ran swiftly down the adjoining slope, and tonin canova stepped into the house with a shrug, as[pg 178] though glad to be rid of them and their invitations. he did not tarry in the cleanly sunlit cabin, but hurried out to the rear garden, where an old man wearing an apron similar to his was busily tapping and chipping at a block of stone erected upon wooden supports.

"why didn't you go with the others?" inquired the stone-cutter, looking up from his work. "you needn't have come back, because i have finished the urn for the terrace of the villa d'asolo, and it is too late in the afternoon to begin on the monfumo altar ornaments. besides, you have stood by your work pretty hard lately, and i think every boy needs a holiday once in a way."

"i don't want a holiday, grandfather."

"bless us! what are you talking about? who ever heard of a boy who didn't want a holiday every day in the week, if he could get it?"

"i'd like to be free from working on your things, of course, but i don't want to pole a raft. i'd rather carve my[pg 179] cherries, if you can do without me the rest of the afternoon."

"ho, ho!" chuckled the old man fondly; "you're just like me, tonin: work is play when it happens to be stone-work. do your cherries, if you have the mind."

"hurrah! i can finish them to-day, and i'll do a pear next, and—see, grandfather, by carnival-time i'll have plenty to sell," and throwing open the door of a small rude cupboard set in the branches of a stunted acacia, tonin proudly displayed a collection of peaches, apples, and grapes which his skilful fingers had wrought out of fragments of stone left from old pasino's cuttings. next autumn, when all the villagers and country folk of the province would assemble at asolo for their carnival and yearly frolic, tonin would peddle his pretty fruit among the pleasure-seekers, confident of filling his purse-bag with coins in exchange for his wares. as he stood reviewing his handiwork, he smiled slyly at thought[pg 180] of the gifts he would buy for the two old people who adored him, and who had freely shared with him their roof and bread, from his earliest infancy.

the stone-cutter's earnings were necessarily small, and for two years tonin had assisted him regularly at his work, cutting, carrying, measuring, and delivering day by day. he seconded pasino's efforts so intelligently, and labored through the long hours with such manly patience, that the scanty comforts in the alpine cabin visibly increased, and all the while the boy was learning the use of the cunning edged tools which his grandfather wielded so dexterously. the lad's name, as it appeared on the parish register, was antonio, but to the guileless aged pair who cared for him he was simply and always tonin.

hoof-beats, accompanied by a shout from the roadway, caused the stone-cutter and the boy to hurry quickly to the hedgerow before the cabin.

a mounted horseman wearing the[pg 181] livery of the duke d'asolo called out, as with difficulty he brought his spirited steed to a standstill,—

"pasino, you are wanted at the villa. something in the picture gallery needs to be done, and you are the only one to do it. the duke gives a great banquet to-night, and the room must be in readiness. vittori sent me, and bids you to hurry as fast as you can."

"i'll follow you at once. come, tonin, mayhap you can be of service at the villa also."

off galloped the messenger, and down the road marched pasino canova, bearing his tool-box upon his shoulder, while his barefooted grandson, similarly equipped, trudged cheerily by his side.

the stone-cutter was frequently in demand at the villa d'asolo, for besides the craft of his trade, the old man understood something of the uses of plaster, stucco, and even marble. no other workman in this remote hill country was so skilled, and for many years he had[pg 182] received the friendly patronage of giovanni falier, duke d'asolo.

on the way, pasino stopped for an instant before the entrance of a gentleman's country residence. "this'" said he, "is the home of toretto, the great, great sculptor."

"oh, grandfather, let's go in and look at his wonderful statues," begged tonin. "please, grandfather! surely he wouldn't care, for i came once with giuseppe falier, and he allowed us to look at everything. do, grandfather!"

"not to-day," objected the old man, hastily resuming his onward way; "we have work to do, and have promised to hurry to the villa d'asolo as fast as we can."

tonin slowly followed pasino down the road, looking backward over his shoulder as long as the tall chimneys of toretto's palace could be seen.

"grandfather," said he thoughtfully, as a turning of the way shut the sculptor's house from sight, "i'd rather be able to[pg 183] make a statue as beautiful as the ones toretto showed us that day than do anything else in the whole world."

"ah, that you might!" burst out the old man emphatically; "but, tonin, for such work the eyes, the fingers, the mind must be taught—taught, tonin, and—well, you know the rest: poor folk like us mustn't be gloomy because we can't do fine works. chances to learn such things cost so much that none but gentlemen with bulging purses can afford them."

"i'm not gloomy, grandfather! you can teach me all that you know, and when i am a man, i will take care of you and grandmother." here the boy began to whistle gayly, seeking to banish the look of sadness that had rested for a moment on the old man's features.

presently they reached the villa d'asolo, whose pillared gates were thrown open to them by retainers. across the terraces they took their way, past arbors, gardens of blossoms, and plashing [pg 184]fountains, reaching at last a postern door of the many-storied castle.

in the passage they were confronted by giuseppe falier, the duke's youngest son, a handsome lad no older than tonin. a serving-man attended him, carrying a glass aquarium that contained numerous brilliant goldfish. boy and groom were preparing to depart through the door by which the canovas had entered, but at sight of the new-comers giuseppe halted.

"hello, tonin," he exclaimed; "come with me up to my cousin's house. this is david's birthday, and i forgot all about it until this minute. i didn't have any present to give him, so i decided i'd take the goldfish out of the conservatory. he likes such things. i don't, myself. come on, and we'll have some fun. david has a new boat, and we'll make him take it out."

giuseppe's invitation was so frankly cordial that tonin would have joined him readily had he had no duties to perform. giuseppe was a lad of jovial spirit[pg 185] who chose his friends wherever he found good comrades, quite regardless of rank and riches, and many were the half-days that he and tonin had spent together, exploring the hills and valleys round about asolo.

"i can't go to-day, giuseppe," replied tonin; "grandfather has something to do in the picture gallery before the banquet to-night, and he is likely to need me."

"my eye, but there will be a crowd of people here! one reason i'm going up to david's is because i'm not allowed to stay up for the fun. good-by. i'll take you up to see the boat some day next week," and beckoning the servant to follow with the aquarium, the young patrician disappeared through the outer door, and the canovas made their way up a stately marble stair, and through a winding corridor until they came to a long narrow apartment whose walls were hung with canvases.

here they were greeted by vittori, the stout and hoary seneschal of the[pg 186] palace. he wore his crimson robe of office, and a stupendous bunch of keys hung by a chain from his girdle, clanking as he walked.

he bustled up to the canovas hurriedly, puffing and panting as from some undue exertion.

"ha, pasino, you are the very man i most need to see. those four deep niches in the walls, two at either end of this gallery, are to be filled with the statues which toretto has just finished. the beastly things were delivered yesterday, and toretto himself promised to come to see that they were set up properly, but instead, a message was brought from him two hours ago saying that he had sprained his silly ankle and could not stir from the house. the duke will be furious if his marble doll-babies are not on view to-night, and as i wouldn't touch them myself for fear of harming them with my clumsy fingers, i called you for the business. there, in that further ante-room, you will find toretto's[pg 187] beauties inside the packing cases, and you are to get them safely into these niches. my-o! my-o! what a load of care falls on a poor old man who is keeper of a palace where one hundred noble guests are expected for a feast! nobody in all venetia has more worries and responsibilities. you may have as many men as you want, pasino, and if your eye spies out any need for decorations in this chamber, send for what you wish. my-o! my-o! the carriages are beginning to arrive, and i must make eleven more arrangements before the feast is ready. you have plenty of time, for this room is not to be used until the ladies come up at the end of the banquet, to drink their persian coffee," and the seneschal departed, accompanied by the sounds of his labored breathing and jangling keys.

pasino's task was a delicate one, and though vittori sent four strong men to aid him, the evening was nearly spent by the time the glistening statues were[pg 188] released from their temporary prisons and lifted to their pedestals in the gallery niches.

while they worked, sounds of music and subdued laughter floated up to them, and fragrances and appetizing odors were continually wafted from the banquet-hall below.

tonin worked with the others, and when the sculptured nymphs were brought to view, his delight knew no bounds. taking up his position before the last erected one, he stood with folded arms, silently, wonderingly drinking in the beauties which toretto's chisel had effected. he was wholly lost to time and place and was quite unaware that the servants had removed all traces of packing and litter, and that a bevy of maids were now seated in the gallery, weaving garlands at pasino's order, for the festooning of the unfinished pedestals. he was so absorbed in the snowy goddess before him that he was deaf to everything until old vittori's voice [pg 189]suddenly rent the gallery's stillness with something between a groan and a shriek.

"where is the aquarium? who's seen my gold-fish? answer, somebody, or i'll throw you all out of the window! oh, i shall be disgraced and discharged and maybe half killed! where is it? why don't you speak?"

the seneschal's appearance, as well as his words, indicated unusual excitement, for his scarlet robe was thrown open at the throat, his frosty locks were rumpled, his uplifted hands were shaking, and his lips were twitching uncannily.

"what's the matter? what's wrong?" demanded a dozen voices, but tonin darted across to the old man's side with the announcement—

"giuseppe carried it away this afternoon as a present to his cousin david."

"my-o! my-o! i am lost, i am done, i am dead!" ejaculated the seneschal, wringing his hands.

"what's the trouble, vittori?" asked[pg 190] pasino, laying a quieting hand upon the shoulder of his agitated friend.

"it is this," returned the seneschal hoarsely; "the duke ordered me to send to the table a fresh ornamental centrepiece with each course, making every one handsomer than the one used before it. i did so, and all has now been served but the dessert, and that will be due in about fifteen minutes. for this fancy piece i have filled a great tray with parma violets on snow, thousands of them—and in the midst of the flowers i planned to set the aquarium of goldfish for a bit of color and life. my-o! my-o! what shall i do?" and once again the seneschal fell to moaning.

"build a column of fruit in the centre of the tray," suggested pasino.

"impossible! i used a pyramid of apricots and nectarines for the second course."

"wouldn't a lighted candle or lamp do?" inquired pasino, earnestly endeavoring to find relief for the seneschal.

[pg 191]

"no! no!" wailed vittori; "lighted things would melt the snow."

"to be sure," agreed pasino sympathetically.

"i know something that might be pretty," ventured tonin timidly.

"what is it?" vittori demanded.

for answer the boy turned from the seneschal and his fellow-retainers, and whispered to pasino apart. the old man's face brightened as he received the boy's confidence.

"i don't know," he commented; "but it ought to be good—yes, yes, it would be, it would indeed!"

"then let him put it through," shouted the seneschal desperately. "i can't wait to hear what it is, for i'm late now. do as he says, everybody, for i've got to trust my reputation to this stripling whether i like it or not. saints help him, for if the work is a failure, woe to poor vittori! have your ornament ready in the lower rear passage, lad, when the tray goes through to the [pg 192]banquet-room. everything else shall be taken in first, so that you may have as much time as possible."

off went the harassed seneschal, and tonin, beset with misgivings lest he had been both rash and bold in his offer of assistance, addressed the grooms with outward composure.

"bring me a firkin of butter, a pail of the coldest spring water, and a big china platter."

his orders were swiftly obeyed, and all looked on with expectant interest while he directed a servant to dig from the cask as much butter as could be heaped on the platter. next he rolled back his sleeves and plunged his hands into the water-pail, holding them there until they were sufficiently cooled for his purpose, then attacking the butter with his dripping fingers, he rolled and patted it into a goodly loaf, with motions so quick and decisive that the spectators fairly blinked. seizing a small chisel and a pointed wooden blade from pasino's tool-chest,[pg 193] tonin began to convert the meaningless dairy lump into a form familiar to all beholders.

with the touch of his nimble instruments, attended by occasional taps and pressures from his lithe brown fingers, the loaf vanished, and in its place appeared a noble lion, quite as though tonin's chisel had been a magic wand which had freed the king of the forest from a stifling and hideous disguise.

in its place appeared a noble lion

"in its place appeared a noble lion."

the tawny beast, with his bushy head, slender body, powerful limbs, and graceful tail, brought a torrent of babbling admiration from the on-lookers; but tonin, heedless of their chatter, sought out his grandfather with questioning glance. he received a quiet nod from pasino, and drying his hands on a corner of his hempen apron, he caught up the platter and carried it to the appointed place below stairs, followed by pasino and a train of chuckling servants.

he had gauged the time exactly, for as he stepped into the low-ceiled passage,[pg 194] six flower-maidens, bearing the debatable centrepiece, entered from the opposite doorway. the seneschal joined them immediately, and without a word set tonin's lion in the centre of the snowy field, enclosed on every side by drifts of parma violets. vittori then abruptly directed the maidens to enter the banquet-hall with their ornament.

that the seneschal was alarmed lest the duke would not be pleased with this hastily contrived decoration, tonin read at a glance; and impulsively he threw himself before the carriers to stay their progress.

"don't send it in if it isn't right, master vittori! try something else, please!" he implored.

"hist! let them go, let them go! i have nothing else to send, so i must stand or fall by your butter-toy. alas for me, and you, too, sirrah, if the duke be vexed!"

a strained silence fell upon the group in the rear passage as the flower-maidens[pg 195] crossed the main corridor and entered the banquet-hall. the grooms and maids exchanged significant nods and winks, old vittori unconsciously pressed his keys tightly to his breast, pasino withdrew into the shadow, and tonin waited in acute suspense, wondering whether in his desire to relieve the seneschal's dilemma he had been guilty of a childish and ignorant blunder. as the seconds flew by, the boy's perplexity increased, and presently he was writhing with the fear that his offering would affront the duke, and perhaps even render him ridiculous before the lords and ladies who sat at the board.

sounds of harps and violins greeted them from beyond the velvet-hung portal, but none in the rear passage regarded the melody.

five minutes dragged by, and one of the flower-maidens stepped into the corridor. each person in the rear passage started breathlessly forward to hear her message.

[pg 196]

"his grace desires the seneschal to come to him."

"my-o! my-o!" groaned vittori; "mercy knows what he'll do to me—and to you, too, tonin canova!"

pausing just long enough to settle his scarlet robe and adjust his linen neckcloth, the seneschal concealed his distress as well as he could, and walked sedately into the banquet-hall.

tonin locked his hands together in despair.

"what a dunce i was—i, tonin canova, who has never been off this mountain—to dare to set up my little work before grand persons like those! oh, oh! and poor vittori may be discharged on account of it!"

suddenly the seneschal reappeared.

"tonin, you are wanted at once! his grace has sent for you. hurry! go on!"

"not in there!" gasped tonin, retreating toward the stair door; "i should die of fright before those great folk."

[pg 197]

"hurry, hurry, you impudent monkey! do you think you can keep the duke d'asolo waiting?"

to make an end of the argument, vittori seized the boy by the arm, giving him a push that sent him into the banquet-room with a rush.

tonin was half-blinded by the myriads of lights, and quite dazed by the grandeur of the spectacle. he dimly comprehended that the vast apartment was hung with vines and banked with flowers; that a table like a huge cross ran the entire length and nearly the breadth of the room; that the duke d'asolo sat at the upper end, and that hosts of ladies and gentlemen in gorgeous raiment turned about in their chairs and fixed their eyes upon the young visitor.

a scalding wave of shame rushed upward through tonin's body, scorching his cheeks and dyeing his neck as he became conscious of his own workaday garb. he came to an abrupt stop, standing with downcast eyes before the[pg 198] venetian company, a truly diverting figure with his loose blouse, rolled-up trousers and sleeves, bare arms, bare legs, and dripping apron.

"come, my lad, and tell us something about yourself," said the duke in a tone surprisingly gentle for one who palpitated with wrath and vengeance.

tonin made his way slowly up the room, pausing at the duke's elbow, and raising his eyes just far enough to get a glimpse of his yellow lion on the table, directly before giovanni falier.

"when did you do this?" inquired the master of the feast, indicating the ornament with his jewelled index finger.

"to-night," admitted tonin feebly.

"can you make other figures and objects?"

"yes, signor."

"where did you learn?"

"from grandfather, signor."

"i have been greatly surprised this evening, as also have been my guests,[pg 199] at sight of this—this decoration, and ahem—"

"now it's coming," thought tonin in a panic. "perhaps he'll put me in a dungeon."

"i have sent it clear around the table so that every one might examine it closely, and we all agree about it. how should you like to make statues, lad,—nymphs, you know, and fairies—"

"and goddesses like that one upstairs?" cried tonin, his face alight with this unexpected turn of the conversation.

"yes."

"oh, oh! i'd rather make a goddess like that than to be a king, or go to the carnival!"

a chorus of laughter greeted this outburst, and tonin trembled with embarrassment and surprise.

"then you shall," the duke declared with a smile like april sunshine. "you must have worked pretty hard, harder than most boys ever do, to be able to make this," pointing to the lion; "and if[pg 200] you are willing to keep on working, you may learn to do great things. you shall go to toretto, the sculptor who did the four pieces upstairs, and he will teach you to make statues as good. shall you like it, my boy?"

"like it! oh, signor, if i had a chance to learn anything so beautiful i'd work—i'd work—"

a vision of the glistening goddess and her wordless grace came before him, causing something to spring up in his throat that choked him. twice he tried to finish his eager speech, but the words did not come. he gave a quick, eloquent gesture of entreaty, and down went his face into his hands before them all.

"a toast, a toast!" exclaimed the duke, springing to his feet with upraised glass. "we'll pledge in water, if you please, good people, for clear water and unspoiled childhood are the purest things of earth. ladies and gentlemen, i offer you our little friend, tonin [pg 201]canova. may he work faithfully with his teacher day by day, and when he comes to manhood, may he be good and great and happy! god bless him!"

clink, clink, went the glasses.

tonin raised his head, and as he turned to withdraw, he whispered to the duke with a beaming smile,—

"i don't know any nice words to say, but maybe you'll tell all the people for me how a boy feels when he's too happy to laugh and too happy to cry."

up the alpine road to the village of mud-walled cabins rode a man one day in autumn. his air was that of an experienced traveller, his dress rich but modest, his horse a spirited charger.

at the entrance to the village, a turn in the road brought him face to face with a man in peasant attire who was walking in the opposite direction. the rider bent curiously, and gazed down at the passer-by with keenest interest; then bringing his horse sharply to a standstill, he cried,—

[pg 202]

"pablo! don't you remember me?"

the man by the way halted in surprise. for a moment he regarded the stranger blankly, then some memory out of his boyhood seemed to awaken, for suddenly he seized the horse's bridle with both hands, and shouted,—

"tonin canova! by all the fates and furies, you are the last man in the world i expected to see to-day!"

"i knew you by your quick and springy step. i suppose you are still the leader of the town, pablo, the foremost citizen of passagno."

a flush of pride crept into the peasant's cheek, but he merely waved his hand toward the extensive vineyard lying further down the slope.

"that is mine. that's all."

"and enough, too, old friend. your purse must be ready to overflow, after a harvest from that fine vineyard."

the peasant blushed again and nodded. then half timidly he addressed the other,—

[pg 203]

"i'm glad to see you again, signor—"

the rider lifted his hand in rebuke.

"not signor to me, pablo! i am still your friend, and not in any wise changed from the lad who played with you in this very roadway."

"but you have grown powerful and wealthy!"

"ye-es, but gold coins can never make me anything else than i was before."

"but we have heard that the city of venice gave you a pension for your whole life, because you had made such wonderful statues."

"yes, venice has been good to me."

"and that all the great people of rome are friends with you."

"true, but—"

"that the pope has written your name in the golden book of the capital."

"so he did; still—"

"that napoleon of france invited you to his court, and that the german emperor has even made you a knight."

"hark to me, pablo!" and this time[pg 204] the rider's voice was commanding. "these things are indeed true, for people everywhere have shown me the rarest kindness; but while the palace doors of all europe are open to me if i care to enter, and ladies and gentlemen of every nation pour their compliments and gold upon me, my heart has turned back to my native village and the dear simple friends of my childhood. i have left the great world for a time, and have come back to see the old faces; and pablo, on that slope, near the little cottage,"—here his voice broke, as he pointed to the last of the mud-walled cabins,—"i have planned to build a church as beautiful as the parthenon at athens. if my good old neighbors cannot travel far enough to see the temples of the world, they shall have one near at hand, which will show them that canova has not forgotten them."

true to his word, the sculptor lingered in passagno until there had risen on the mountain side a classic, snowy edifice[pg 205] which was the wonder and pride of all the villagers. when the builders had finished and had gone their way, the man who had designed it all put on his apron, took up his chisel, and completed for the altar ornaments that he had begun twenty years before, when he had lived in the cabin just over the way.

how the people rejoiced in their pillared house of worship, and how grateful they were to the giver of so splendid a gift. warmly they bade him farewell when his task was at length completed, and he was obliged to go in order to execute the greater works that awaited him.

at last, in the city of rome, when the sculptor's hair whitened, his step faltered, and his heart grew strangely still, the friends about him, a brilliant company, carried him tenderly up the alpine road, and laid him to rest beneath the altar of his own carving.

when the service was ended, the lords and ladies, the princes and cardinals,[pg 206] the poets and teachers who had paid him their devotion to the last, wound their way slowly down to the turbulent world; and tonin canova slept on the mountain side, in the heart of his alpine village.