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 Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Half Title
 Title Page
 Content
 Back Cover
 Conclusion






Group Title: Giotto's sheep : a cathedral story
Title: Giotto's sheep
CITATION PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00056238/00001
 Material Information
Title: Giotto's sheep a cathedral story
Physical Description: 38 p., 6 leaves of plates : ill., photos ; 23 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Waller, Mary E ( Mary Ella ), 1855-1938
Estes & Lauriat ( Publisher )
University Press (Cambridge, Mass.) ( Printer )
John Wilson and Son ( Printer )
Publisher: Estes and Lauriat
Place of Publication: Boston
Manufacturer: University Press ; John Wilson and Son
Publication Date: c1889
 Subjects
Subject: Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Easter -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Dogs -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Sheep -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Angels -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Cathedrals -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Christian life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1889
Genre: novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston
United States -- Massachusetts -- Cambridge
 Notes
Statement of Responsibility: by M.E. Waller
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00056238
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002239311
notis - ALH9838
oclc - 07128266
lccn - 22004762

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Page 1
    Half Title
        Page 2
    Title Page
        Page 3
        Page 4
    Content
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Plate
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Plate
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Plate
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Plate
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Plate
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Plate
        Page 37
    Back Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
    Conclusion
        Page 38
Full Text
















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GIOTTO'S SHEEP










GIOTTO'S SHEEP



A CATHEDRAL STORY




By M. E. WALLER





"Zrt is for those itjom it reacls. "






BOSTON
ESTES AND LAURIAT
PUBLISHERS
































Copyright, 1889,
BY ESTES AND LAURIAT.
























Sniberit SOress:
JOHN WVILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE, U. S. A.















GIOTTO'S SHEEP.





E YERY belfry in Florerce was stalken arld rocked vitl
the rnad antics of the bells. Out they rushed lile a
troop of Furies, and ofttinles they swTung upward and out-
Ward Witl sTclh over-zealous garrulity that their brazen
tongues fell back, into their throats and precluded tie pos-
sibility of musical Utterarlce,
Such wild prarlks as the bells played inr tie gloarrinrlg
There was querulous clashirg, solerrl pealing, discordant
chorus: a ringlirng, rushing, rising, sinking, swellirng chlaos
of tumultuous sound, till--boorrm the deep rote of the
Dtuoro bell fell through the air like the voice of anr arch-
angel aronrg clamnorous earti-spirits. There followed a vi-
brating silence, during wxlic troops of echoes scurried off
to the purple heiglhts of Fiesole or hid tlerrlselves witl tle
pigeons in the towers of San Miiriato,
"Look, Chiquito, loo IT" cried a Voice at the foot of the
tower from the belfry of Which the deep rnote 1ad just
Uttered its Warrning,
H low whirle Was tie orlly arsWer.









6 GIOTTO'S SHEEP.

"LooX, Chiquito, look, I say arld wiitl the words a
struggling puppy was raised by the rlape of hlis rieclk ligl
irp air, arid his shapeless prose flattelled agairpst tile rrarble
of the tower.
Witht all a puppy's proverbial good-rature, Chliquito olould
laave complied 14ad it beer possible; but is preserlt strairled
positiorl forced the folds of sinrl so far over ltis eyes that
tie was fair\ to protest irl a series of gyrrlrastics titat brought
every rruscle of riis srrall body irlto play. These gyratiorls
were accorrIparlied by arn agoriized whirne, wiV4icl, quickly
rrergirig irlto a iowl of Urirritigated grief, broke at last irlto
sharp, ir\digrlarlt yelps at being tihus rqisurderstood. The
struggling puppy was gerltly dropped Uporl the pavermert,
arld forthwitlh slhook lirrself out. Rt last, gairlirlg a rather
urlstable equilibriurrm orl hlis pudgy legs, tle sat dowrn corl-
terplatively at his master's side, his buddirg tail fairly
vibrating witlh pleasurable erotiorps of release.
But hlis rraster, a little Siciliarl wlio lad strayed Witil arl
itirlerarlt fiddler frorn tie olive slopes of Retrla to RorQe,
arid tlerlce pilgriraged withl sore trading peasarlts of tlhe
Carpagrna to thle far Tuscarp city, corltirpued to stard gaz-
irg up at thie Carrparlile like a pygrry orl riptaeus. But
tis eye did riot rage. It was fixed upor one of thle bas-
reliefs that ir lozelge forr ornarrierlt the base of tle
tower.
He is just like Cliquito," lie cluclled over the dis-
covery; tlat 's the wvay te cocks his lead arid lops hlis













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GIOTTO'S SHEEP. 7

left ear )Wlhen le is watching pigeons,-ee!uT" He laid two
fingers betweerl Iis lips arnd whistled in gleeful abandon.
His shrill rote startled Chiquito out of Ylis corternplative
rnood and sorrMewhat abruptly unbalanced thir,
Chiquito rmio," said the boy sootiinrgly, arid with iuUrror-
ous terderress righted the little puppy.
"Here, cock your head ort orle side--sol" He gave the
wrirnkled spheroid a gentle twist, arid there it remairled;
for with hlis rraster, Wiho ir his sleelirg puppy eyes Was
arn adorable tyrartt, the little cur Was as clay ir tie hiards
of a potter. The boy clapped his hiarnds.
Bravo NoW you 're like 1irm, Chiquito; orIly you 're
more of a rruttorn-head tharn 1he is, or you would lool at
hirt. How soft the wool lools He reached up if h1e right
touch the rough store, but he failed.
That terit seerrs big eriougl to crawl irnto, if I Were
ortly up high enough. The rrarn lools lile Nicol6, orly le
Ihas a whole rose." He drew his thiurmb arid forefinger along
the straight ridge of his owrn. There Chiquito srliffed arnd
whirled.
The boy turned and saw behind hirt a Mlarl who had
approached unobserved in the dusl arnd evidently over-
heard his soliloquy. He Was one of the "forestieri;" that
the boy's keerl eye, trained by Wardering, perceived at
once, and with true Italian instinct he smiled, holding out
his open palrr.
"For the love of God, SignroreT"








8 GIOTTO'S SHEEP.

The rnarl drew a franc-piece frorn his pocket ard dropped
it irlto tle boy's harld.
"Not for the love of God, ragazzo rrio, but for the love
of Hrt," He spoke lightly.
Siglio was anrazed, He had never heard his plea read
backward before in sucl fashion, arld lis honest, question-
irlg eyes sought the speaker's. The lad -was entertairirlg
sis first scruple, and it proved ro welcorrle guest. Was it
good to take the rrlorey that 11ad been giverl 1iiri for tlle
love of sorletling, hle XrleW riot ?wat, a sorretling of
wlhiclh le 1lad never orlce heard? It 'was a very rlatural
questiorl that followed,--lis harld closing tightly uporl the
silver bit as if fearing the charrr of tie nrlrlnrort 'word
rligilt spirit it away, -
"W1\at is Art, Sigrlore?"
The stranger frorr over the sea started. His glance
sought the towerirlg Carrparlile as if astirlg a solution of
tle question frorr its abrldart grace arid beauty; but its
stores were durrb. Thtern his gaze dropped slo-Wly dowrl tle
storied h1eiglt until it rested uporl the relief before wlichl
stood Siglio anrd Cliquito. R spasnr of pair contracted lis
face as lie looked. He flung away hlis cigar arld turned
uportn is h1eel.
"Hll for a beggar brat," he rruttered, and took a step
forward. But hle was nrder some strange spell, arld irlvol-
utrtarily Ihe turned back, his action being the recognition of
a personality stronger because more longest tharl hiis ow~,








GIOTTO'S SHEEP. 9

Tile Siciliar's dark eyes were bearrinrg Uporl uirn like
illuminated interrogation poirlts, expecting an answer, corr-
pellirg it indeed, arld receiving it.
"Verily, child, it is tlje love of God."
He spoke slowly, as if under compulsion.
Siglio smiled radiarltly. His daily request lad been read
backWard again,-tlis tirre to llis satisfaction. The love of
God, ay, that Was sornethirng le could urderstarld, this boy
from thie slopes of fetra. Thle wordss alorle brought 1pirr
daily bread, but this love of- Chiquito yanrled; llis enrlri
Was becorrirng pairnfully eviderlt.
How will you trade ?" denmarnded the stranger, larldlirIg
the dog like a corrloisseur.
Siglio's eyes sparkled. Thlis opern-iarlded rrarl rnigllt prove
lis forturle.
"I paid five cerltessirri for lirtn, Sigrlore, but-"
Wly did Siglio Ilesitate? TIere Were plerlty more at
lrone. carlu, hiis rleiglbor, llad 1lad a litter of severe at
the Christrras fete; 1le would be back again for tle olive
Harvest and could easily get arlotler. Agairl Iis eye sougilt
Chiquito's store counterpart that for cerlturies ilas guarded
Giotto's sleep irl the old Tuscar city, arld l1e slook ulis
iead. He l1ad plans of Ils oWnr, this Sicilian peasant, Vitl
wicl the sale of his dog oWould sadly interfere. The
stranger srriled;
"Well, I will give you five francs for lirl," Ile said
pleasantly, in a torle at once seductive and business-like.








10 GIOTTO'S SHEEP.

Siglio Wavered; Cliquito yawned again. It was bedtirle
and Ie was supperless, a corrbination of circumstances
wllicli by sorqe law of association Ilis puppy intelligence
]kine to be orminoos of rrucl. Tie doleful sound precipi-
tated Ills master's decision.
No, Signore," 1le spoke firrly; "I carl't spare 1firq-
riot yet."
Withl a quick, passiorlate rrlovererlt le caught tile dog
frori tile rrarl's arrs arld lujgged 11irq till tile little cur was
forced to yawri a third time frorri shleer exiaustiori arid
lack of breath. The boy lauglled.
Wilern l e hlas outgrorwn I1is skirl like that other fellow
up thlere,"--le pointed upward to thle bas-relief whiichl was
scarce visible ir\ the sudden deepenirng of thie March twi-
light,-"you shall lrave lirm for 11alf that, Sigriore."
"Thiat's a bargairl. I '11 see that you rrrake it good. But
1iow do you ilapperi Up hiere ?" hle queried further; for thle
boy's accerit 1lad betrayed 11irri.
01O, I care with thie Carrpagrna folk; they are Up here
every spring to sell their blanriets; you '11 find thiern ori
t1ie Lung' Frrno."
"Yes, I krlow. So you care Up witlh thlerl? Going back
witlh therm soor ?"
"Yes, Sigrlore, after Easter. I must be at riorie irl tine
for tle olive harvest, for there's Nicol6 arid Nedda and all
the rest, who reed rre. It's a long Way afoot."
Well, let me know if by that tire Chiiqito Ias outgrown






















L ~-/



r 1<'









GIOTTO'S SHEEP. 11

h1is skirl, will yo ? arld I '11 take a run downr for the
festa."
"Yes, Signore, lhalnd or\ ny heart, I will; but you won't
have to Wait long if Cliquito l1as suchl a supper every
rnigqt as We 're goirig to 1lave rloW, tlarlks to you, Sigrlore,
arid e laughIed roguisllly, adding nrlder hIis breattl, -
"the love of God!"
Tiern away Ile rarl, hugging Cliiquito to his breast arld
carollirlg a Siciliarl street-sorng; tie clear, ligl soprarlo, for
wxhichl the dog holed a falsetto accorrlparlirerlt, echoirng
through thie gloorry, stone-paved square of Sarlta Maria
del Fiore.
But the rqarl did rlot lear it. He stood rrotiornless, lost
irl thloughit before the tower. The cigar blirIKed itself out
or the paveertet, a public cab drove up beside 1hinr, a
dorIkey clattered across thle square braying discordantly,
arld the rnighlt fell chill and darrlp. Tle rrarl did not stir.
With bent Ilead, and 1aarnds clasped belinrd 11mr, 1le stood
for a ,A1ile Without rovirng; tenr, squaring his shoulders,
he shivered slightly, passed his 1arld across his eyes, and
walked rapidly away as if trying to outstrip some urtoward
thought.
Tie cabrran r as curious about this foreigner. He Watchled
hlirM as le strode across the piazza and turned into the Yia
de' Servi.
Cle, clie; they 're a queer lot," h1e rrmttered, and sat down
irl his cab to eat his square of stearinrg clhestrnt-bread.









12 GIOTTO'S SHEEP.

Richard ildytll was irldeed ore of the "queer lot." He
Was arn rrerical, Wlo, litle rrarly another of his coUrtryrqern,
4iad suffered a sea-ciarige,- a kinrdly narn, of gerlerous ir-
pulses, ard a capacity for irnterlse erjoyirig arid iriterlse suf-
feririg. He was a sculptor,-lovirng Art for its orw sale,
arnd serving Iis apprerlticesilip wittl a sirigleress of purpose
arnd arl UrflaggirIg zeal tlat of itself should 1ave beer arl
earnest of tile future. After narny years ile gave 1is ackrnowl-
edged talent a iorrme arlorlg tile Florerttiries. He Was lappy
there, for his art was is life. But, far from tile practical
tlhougit of 1lis orw larld, arid lackirig tie corltact Witil its
nrultiforrr civilizatiorl, urlcorlsciously ile 1ad deepened tile
Worlirjg cilarinels of is energies witioUt broaderlirng arid
11Urrartizirig triercr.
To-rliglt, ilowever, starldirig before Giotto's masterpiece, a
sculptured shleplyerd's face, beriigriarit ever ir its rrtutilatiorn,
1iad looked fortil frorr tile curtairned terlt arld appealed, as
ornly tile rrute offspring of Art carl appeal, to the divinely
1iurqarn witltir lir'm. Of a trutrl, a little ctild 1iad led
1iirm.
Twelve years of cornscierltious Worl, ard thie result?
Tilat -as Wllat 1ie was trying to determrirle as ile Walked
alorg tile Via Girlo Capporti. His pace was more tlarl
rapid, it was riervous.
Strarlge T lioT I feel tile clill to-riiglt I" lie said to 1irnl-
self, arld quickerned his steps. If tris Weatiler lolds, I'll
taXe a runr downr to Sicily to find sore Warltll, There's a








GIOTTO'S SHEEP. 13

good type there, rot pincled arnd starved like tnese cold-
blooded Tuscans. How tile lad looked at rre to-rigqlt I"
He 1lad reached the farther erld of tie street, and stopping
abruptly before a grated door pulled thle bell. The latcl
clicked, thie door opened, ard closed beinrd lirm. He groped
lis way along a store corridor toward a light that appeared
in a dirrl side-passage. Heavy tapestries Were drawn aside to
adrit irm, arld hle entered with a sigl of relief. He Was at
hornle,
fl few errbers still gloWed on the h1eartl, WitNl rervous
haste ile errptied a basket of pine cores upon theml, tossed
aside his 11at, and threw lirrlself tpor a coucl before tle
fire, that blazed and crackled fiercely as the resirn heated.
Then ile turned to 1is factotunm, hlo still field tle light at
tle door,
Well, Paolo, you did riot expect rne back so soon ?"
"No, Sigrlore, You sid "
Yes, I krnoW What I said I" He spoke abruptly, Witl urn-
Wontel sharpress. Is dirlrer ready ? "
"No, Sigrlore. You said you Would not be back -"
"Yes, I rerrerrber. Bring rMe anyttirig you have, arld
rUncork that flask of Certosa, quick, will you ? Did you
Wet the clay?"
Paolo looked aglast. He set dowr t e larrp, arld struck
both 1ards upor his breast.
"No, Signore." His voice Was scarce above a Wtisper;
for to-nriglt, in such extraordinary circumstances, Paolo








14 GIOTTO'S SHEEP.

felt lis rirrnetic art to be hlis sole protection. No, Sigrlore;
you said -"
What did I say?" Aldyttl turned uporl 11irr almost
fiercely; but nature parried the thrust that W-ould have
wounded Paolo to the quick. The rlan's wratlful lool-
proved a facial abortion; for he sreezed vigorously.
Paolo recovered h1irmself.
Felicitd, Sigrore," Ihe rmurrurred appeasirlgly, following
the good old Italiar cUstorr that Zeus the Preserver hlirMself
fathered,
Curse you T" This ir English, urlirtelligible for the
irlrocently errirg Paolo as to the irrport of the 'words, -
but the look that accorrpartied tlher That needed rno
trarlslatir1g.
Paolo crossed hirrmself, arld tears carrie irlto his eyes; thenr
lhe arnd the lamp varlished irlto some mysterious corrler,
Presently ie issued forth with a silver tray laderl With dairl-
ties. He drew a snall table before the lhearth, arnd placing
the tray uporl it, cautiously opened a flask of Certosa arnd
set it, together with a liqueur-glass, close by his Iraster's
anrd.
"Give Ine a larger glass, and don't go about on your
toes like that "
Paolo flew to obey. The gold 11alf-rroorls ir his ears
twinkled w)ith trepidation orl his returrinrg w"ith a Chianti
glass. Was the master rrad, to drirnl Certosa like sprirg-
water or every-day red wirne He grew dizzy at the thought.








GIOTTO'S SHEEP. 15

This Mood, tle like of wiiclh le had never experienced,
proved too iruch for his clhildlike corqprelension.
You ray go,"
Paolo availed 11ir-self of the ungracious dismissal withl
relief; but in the underground regions of the lXitchen Ile
at once confided his concern to Toinette.
His hand shook so, carina, it shook so that the precious
sunshilne of God Was spilled on tle floor fairly spilled,
ragazza rria T 11is oice rose to a suppressed shriek, -
" and Signor Ricardo "
The upstairs bell interrupted tle irterded clirlax. Paolo
sprang frornm is seat with tile alacrity of a rnariorette.
Paolo," Rldytl spoXe gently and courteously, as was
his wont, -" Paolo, take it away, and mnale a little festa
for yourself anrd Toirette."
"But, Signore T" It Was in Paolo's nature to protest. He
glanced expressively at the Unrtouched tray, for amorng tle
rrarndarins glittered a ten-franc piece.
"I can't eat to-rnigt; this will do,"'- -e struck the brirm-
inirng glass Witlh his nail. Leave a liglt inr tlhe worx-roonm,
ard thern you nray go; I shall rot need you again."
Paolo departed. At the door lhe turned, He so longed to
say "Felicissinla rotteT" His lips frarred the words; low-
ever, he rernernbered, and was silent. But le said it after-
wards to Toinette.
WNern alone, Rldythl sighed. He lifted the glass of golden
cordial between his eyes and tle flaminrg fireliglt, and








16 GIOTTO'S SHEEP.

Watched tle play of color; then l4e drarlk it off slowly, witl-
out once pausirng, sliVerirng slightly as tile electric warrqtl-
ran along lis chilled life-currents, arid contirnued to twirl
tie sten of tile crystal between 1is tllurqb ard forefinger.
"Felicitd I" He spoke aloud. It was tie orie hlabit in
lwhichl le indulged tlirrself. Firelight talks witl rrTy better
half," lhe called his bachelor soliloquies. "Of all riigllts,
tllat tile poor devil should wish rae that T"
He set dowri tile glass, ard rose abstractedly. What is
it ? wlat is it?" ile uttered. "It fairly hlaUrts rie."
He passed 1his larnd searclinrgly over tile books orl sore
ilarngirng shelves, turned tlhe pages of uis Darte, flicking tile
dust fror tileir edges. Ten r le opened a chest of carved
black oaK and thrust lis 1iarld to tlhe bottorr, bringing up
and overturninrg a rass of docunenrts and letters wit tle
effort.
"I was sure it was lere Tlere was disappoirntrment in
tis voice. He struck ils 1larid to uIis forehead, MWere
can I 11ave put it?" Agairn hie threw hirrself orn tle coucl,
shading 1Ils eyes witl ills 11arld; but it would not down at
nis bidding. "It's always so, a feeling gets possession
of re, and 'all the ring's horses and all tie king's rerl'
can't pull rie right again. How the fellow looked at rre,
as if Ile would read rly very soul, wenr I answered 11inr
so I Tie rnore fool I, to upset myself for a street urclirn
wl0o Klrew no more than to h1ug a puppy half to death rather
tanr trade for hlirm. Tlose Sicilian curs are all ionlgrels,








GIOTTO'S SHEEP. 17

but rlnowing; I wislh I lhad 11in1. Jove I 10oW I would like
to drop that question of 11is dowrl arrorlg rry respected
confr&res I I 'rr tlhinrkirg it would prove a bomb in tlle
canrp. I wornder w~ly le would riot sell 1irn ? He did
look like Giotto's dog, that 's a fact; thle boy's eye -as
keerler ttar rrlirie. I '11 llUrit 1tinl up to-rrorrow. Where
carl that be?" This last witl4 vexed errpllasis.
He rose agairl, ard passed into an adjoining roorr, It
struck c1ill arid damp, and the strong, earthy odor of Wet
clay filled the air. Hrl oil light flared in the draught, arid
illuinrlated thje apartrrent ir patches. From ore corner
a rMarble statue started into faint relief. Sore modelling
tools and a huge trough of clay currbered the room. On
a berncl near the larrp stood a statuette; around it lay
variously rrodelled 11ards and arrris, a few sculptured, -
one, a Woranr's, palrl open and upward, the lines Upon it
strongly marked, tile balls of tile delicate finger-tips full
arnd well rounded, indicative of quick perception. In tile
centre of tile room, on a 1alf-scaffold raised sore two feet
above tie floor level, stood another seerinrgly shapeless riass
of clay covered witll Wet cloths.
Richard thrust a spatula into tile troUgll. The clay was
not workable.
My onrl fault," he said, and took up the worrart's arrr
and larnd, looking at it irlterltly, critically.
It's the best thirg I ever did," he said to 11inmself, rnd
all these years gone for that I Too true, too true, -' the sin








18 GIOTTO'S SHEEP.

of the age is dilettarltisrM.'" R dog lowled suddenly irl tle
court. Tile Marl started nervously; hlis 11arnd was rnot steady
yet, and tie marble crashed orl tlie stone floor.
For a rrornenrt 1ie did rlotiling. Tien he too! tie lanrp,
placed it on tile flags by tile bernci, arld stooping, searched
for tile 11arld.
It Was so lile, so lile," Ile rmurrqured. I could alrrost
feel tile rounded palm arld tie serlsitive firlger-tips. Was it
a signr?"
He laughed at lis nrlaccoUrntably rlervous state,
"It will pass,--tlis sort of thirng. I've lnroowr it before;
and seven devils always get irl whern I atterrpt to drive
one out." He was still searciling for the 11arld, that lad
broken at tile wrist and rolled under tle bernc.
He lay flat Uporl tle floor, and trust murder iis arrm,
only to bruise his lrnTucles orl a piece of jagged brass and
some object that Would riot yield to pressure. He laid hold
of it and pulled, bracing 1irnself witl his other 1arnd against
a leg of tie bernci. Into tile fairt circle of liglt about tle
lanp he drew a strong, brass-bound clest, its lid covered
with the accumulated dust of a decade. On the cover,
studded in brass nlails, was writterl: "Judith ildytl, l1er
trunr."
Tile anrl srriled.
Wly, grardrrlother's rmother I I 11ad forgotten about you,
poor little Puritarl rmaiderl, a stranger in a strange land!"
R sudden thouaglt struck hirl.








GIOTTO'S SHEEP. 19

"Perhaps it's irn here." He rose hurriedly fronr 1his sitting
position orl the floor, arid not stopping to brusl dust or dirt
fronm lis clothes, enrt into tie other room. He took a bunrcl
of keys from a cabinet, and drawing an old brass one from
the ring, 1asteried back. He blew the dust frorr the keyhole,
and fitting the key, turned it, not Without a protesting creak;
and there irl the upper tray, together with old water-colors
and bas-reliefs,- relics of lis irncipierlt artistic period, -
old daguerrotypes, and a generation of ivories, lay that
wlich hle had coveted.
Arn old Bible,- that was all.
The rnar breathed a long "all of satisfaction, brushed
the dust front his sleeve, shut the trunr, pushed it under the
berncl, and werlt into the next roorr. He added fresh cones
to the fire, lighted a second larrp, arid again threw hirrlself
orn the couch. He opened the book, smliling to himself.
Now, here is it? I have dipped a little too deep into
Spirloza for the last twenty years to find it easily. It is
somewhere inl the Gospels." He turned page after page.
Presently his forefinger leld down a leaf; lis eye ran
fror top to bottom He read silently, with irlterse absorp-
tion. Agair and again his eye sought the top of the page
ard followed slowly downr as he read to the bottorr.
This is exquisite I he said at last, closing the book, his
forefinger still rrarkirg the place. "Giotto rrust have felt
that,--r ot evolved it from any school or schoolnerl. But I
hav-e rneer thought of it irl that light before. Was it the








20 GIOTTO'S SHEEP.

rnaster's last appeal through htis art to future ages, or "- he
hesitated, then added softly -" to mee "
He opened the bookl, and read again, this time aloud: -
So when they h1ad dined, Jesus saith to Sirnon Peter,
Sirnon sorn of Jonas, lowest thou me more than these ? He
saith unto hlirm, Yea, Lord: thou lknowest that I love thee.
He saitl urito hirm, Feed rny lamlbs. He saithl Unto hirq
again the second tire, Sirrorn son of Jonas, lowest thou
rie ? He saitl Unto hirm, Yea, Lord: thou linoWest that I
love thee. He saith unto 1irq, Feed ry sheep."
Curious I I a1ave always looked upon the bas-relief from
an objective point of view, as an expression of the old pa-
triarclal life, never subjectively, as a personal appeal to a
chance passer-by." He turned the pages. Another passage
arrested his eye.
He that h1ath, to h1ir slall be given: ard Ile that 1ath
not, front 11irm shall be taken even that which he hatl."
"I have never understood that, it is such a contradiction
of the other; and yet the same lips uttered both, I say it in
all reverence. The other is so beautiful I Feed rMy sheep.'"
Again Ihe turned the leaves, reading a passage here, a chap-
ter there, planning tle while wlhat ie would do for tle boy
on tie morrow.
"I will 1hunt 11irm up the first thing. If I 1ad but asked
his narme T" Suddenly Ile paused, and wlhistled softly.
"What is this? RAtI I rernerrber: 'He that losetl his
life for my saXe, shall find it.' 'For my sake'?" lhe re-








GIOTTO'S SHEEP. 21

peated. "I dorl't utrderstard. This suffices." Arid tle re-
read the teriderest exhortation that ever fell frornr lips
lUrrqarIly divide. Tienr, turning his lead or\ tlte pillow, arld
drawing up the silver couvre-pied, l e watched the firelight
till, lile a tired child, tle fell asleep.
Out irl thle work-roorr tlhe larrp burred diM, flickered,
flared, werlt out,--its last feeble glearr failirlg to light a
Marble 1hanid, a worran's, that lay, palrr operl arid upward,
Wedged between the chest arld thie bernclh. It 11ad beer
forgotten.




Tlhe vee of rairl arid rlistirig cold hlad culmiriated irl tile
ciill of that Good Friday, ard the rrorrlirig that broke Uporl
Florerlce found spring anrd surrrler 1harld irn Iarid at hler
gates.
ildytl was early astir. He Jernt irlto the studio arid
atterqpted work, but his hlarnd lad lost its curjtiri.g. More-
over, h1e was nrot attuned to the delicious day. He recalled
that other hand.
Let it lie," lhe rrjttered; it lhas rno longer a place ir\ rMy
life. My owrl could riot fashion such arlotlier. What is the
matter with it? I worlder if it is the effect of last righlt's
clill.' He looked at the shapely rrierMber.
I rieed exercise, arid I array as well go rnow." He took his
1lat, arid after leaving Word with Paolo to moisteri tile clay arid








22 GIOTTO'S SHEEP.

draw the persiari at rnidday,-for even ir tile early morrl-
ing tle sun Was Iot irl the cloudless skly,--le Wert out.
Passing dowr the Via Girlo Capporli, lie entered the sunlit
square of the pnzrlruriata, He crossed to the church, and
lifting the -heavy baize 4largirgs at tie door, entered. The
place wore a sorrbre aspect, which contrasted painfully With
tle glory of the day. Here ard there a worshipper lknelt at
a glittering shrine. R 11aze of stale incense filled all the
space. It was stifling.
This is not for rle," rriurMured the nlan; I should starve
so and passed out quickly into the radiant air.
Irl a few irtinutes le stood again inr the Piazza del Duorrto,
before the bas-relief orl the base of the bell-tower; and as
he scared the work of beauty with eager, hlurngry eyes,
the words of the Book repeated themselves over arnd over
agairl,-"Feed ry sheep; feed -ry larIbs; feed rry sheep,"
- till the shepherd hirr1self, looking fortl from the curtairls
of the tent, seemed to speak the appeal to the mani at his
feet. He hurried aWay--"I Mlust find hlirn at all events "-
throUgh by-Ways and alleys to the Mercato Yecchio, past the
palace of the Strozzi barred witl flowers, through the Vigrla
Nuova to the Lunrg' Frro, then out toWard the Cascine,
Sooln le care Upor tle Carrpagra peasants, revelling in
the sUrnshirle and the prospect of trade.
But there Was rjo boy, no Cliquito, arortg their.
He interrupted their nrerry talk. Is there a boy belorng-
inr to you, With a dog ChiqUito 9 he asked.










































40 ~




.... ..


,'161








GIOTTO'S SHEEP. 23

"Yes, Signore," said a worrar witil flashing eyes and teeth
white as Carnpagna rnill, le belongs to Uts whern lle is hlere;
and wwen lhe is n't, lwhicl is ofteriest, tie Wind itself is his
rraster. The vagabond T Night after right hie comes back
withl nothing full but his owr\ paUrictl ard the beastie's:
ard there be those who say lis palrm was crossed witht
a franc-piece last rnigit, but never a certissirre ihae I
seen, Rh1 TI nrlow therf, Sigrlore, those Sicilia n agpies
tlat stand in tle surl all day on one leg, and roasted
pigeons fly into tleir lwhistling bealis; '1wile we poor Carn-
pagna oxen--"
Richard sterrrred the torrent.
"Tell rne, rry good wornarn, what is his rnae ?"
"Siglio, Signore."
Hrd wlwich way did lhe go, toward the Cascine ?"
No, Signore, toward tle bridges. Here, Gigi," she
called a child to ler,- hast thou seen Siglio?"
Yes. I wert with 1irnr and ChliqUito over tlhe Rlla Grazie,
and thern ie 'went out that way." Tle girl pointed across
and up the Irro. "I helped 1lirr," she added, seeing tie
look of interest in Rldytl's eyes.
Richard lifted his ilat, ard dropped sore roney into the
child's i1arid. We will both play truant, to-day," Ile thought,
witl alriost boyish delight; arnd as hle hurried toward the
Ponte TIlla Grazie, hie planned a little feast for Siglio, the
rrarionettes in the afternoon, a little dinner at lhorme, arid
afterward a confidential chat in tie garden while Chliqlito








24 GIOTTO'S SHEEP.

disported tirrself murder tnle rnagrolias Witil Pepi, prince of
nrloras.
He crossed tile bridge, looking in every direction for tlie
boy, but l e Was rnot to be seen. He Walhed farther along
tie Rrrno, uncertain 11at to do, till lie care ir siglt of
tYle steps leading lup to tle Piazzale IAiclaelarngelo. It
'as early yet, arld tile urlkernrpt desolation of tlat ervirorl
was Urnrelieved by a 11TIara figure.
Suddenly orl tle riglt, from bellirld a Mqass of jagged
rocks tlhat eviderltly ilad beer but recerltly quarried arid
awaited cartage, le Ileard and recognized tie lad's voice.
He Was talking to tile dog.
"Paciernza, pacierza, Cliquito rrtio T You Will spoil every-
thing."
Aldytl rrlade lis way cautiously around tile nrass of stone,
and wentt softly Up tie steps tilat lead to tile Piazzale,
seating linmself at tle top tlat ile rriglnt overlooX tle boy.
Siglio was talking and worliing at tie same tiMne. He
was klneelirng irl tile slneltered space belinrd tle stones,
bending over a rougl board orl wlnicll was a rrass of clay.
Tlis Ile iad rroulded in lozerge form about eiglnteerl irnces
square, and Upon it 1lad laid anrotier rass wiici Ile was
rnow trying to silape. Before 1linr, braced against tie rock,
sat Cliquito upon uis lU11nrlces, for once not arlenable to
discipline.
Ill vairn lis master protested and coaxed; tie puppy
flicked a fly frori is tail, snapped at an invisible sornetlnirg,








GIOTTO'S SHEEP. 25

yawrned, wriggled, and firially, rolling over with all fours irI
tihe air, gave his back a thorough drubbing ir the sand.
Siglio was ir despair. He caught tlhe little cur by the
nape of hiis nrecl, ard shook irrl until Iis teetIh chat-
tered ard there was rauglht to be seern of the frightened
eyes but tle whlites; therln le took soMre clay arid put it
orn tile dog's paws, arnd pattirig out a tIiri surface of tlhe
same material, literally plastered Ciliquito into it, placirig
11irr upori his l1auriches.
Now you '11 stick, paolirno, for the rest of the day, if I say
so T he laughed triurrmparitly, ard again fell to -work.
The little cur was rioriplussed, He still trerrbled, but
1e cocked his head ori orie side, lopped his left ear, arid
braced his pudgy legs irto thie yielding clay withi such atr
eviderit irteritiorl of accepting tie irlevitable that his pose
proved at orice the delight arid despair of thie little artist
his rqaster.
"0 Chiquito, hold still just a rqirnte For the love of
God, Chiquito rqio, don't stir it will soori be over."
How lie trieaded arid worked the clay I What strerigth
lay irl the browri peasarit hands Richard Rldythi's critical
eye rrarked arid measured every movermernt witi a keern
delight that becarrie alrrost pair.
Hod every rariipulatiorl tells T" he thought. "Not a
plarie but is ariatornically true, riot a lirie that is lackirig its
true curve There is rhlytlhri; there is hiarnqory; there is
the orgariisrr that is borri of gerius I" He wiriced as these








26 GIOTTO'S SHEEP.

thoxuglts passed rapidly tlrougnl Ills rqirld. He looked at
lhis own 1anld, cormparing it With tle clild's. He did riot
spare lirnself; le recognized that rio real corriparisorn could
be rrade. The one was regular in slhape, of rIo pronounced
individuality, firrn, srrooth, shapely, tapering fingers and
Well-shaped rails, healthily red to the tips,--narly, gertle-
Marlly, dilettanteT He groaned inwardly, scourging 1rimself
as he catalogued its points. Tie other, large-lruckled, spatu-
late-fingered, leavily-veined, full of rlervous strerngtl anld
creative power, as sloowrn by tie extraordinary breadth be-
tWeer thlturb and forefinger, the hole 1tarnd, its rrove-
nenrts and its work, a divine irrpulse that Was struggling
for external expression.
ildytl clirlced Ilis own, drawing Ilis breath hard. But le
looked till the blood surged against his temples and there
Was rrist before his eyes. For a rroernt le saw' notll-
ing; then hlis vision cleared a little, and 1e beleld rneithler
a Phidias, arl rngelo, rlor a Giotto, but a simple peasant
from the slopes of Aetna, irn lose lumnarity dwelt some
fullness of tie Godlead bodily, till rno dumb, but breaking
at last through the limitations of that very urrlarity, and
appealing to hirm --lir, Riciard Aldytl to be forever set
free. Forever I Rll too clearly tie manr perceived tlat lis
vision was illurirned from wiittir, arld thie divinity of his
owrn nature, responding to that Mute appeal, witl every
pulsation of lhis blood -rang its owr adrrornitiorl irl familiar
words against his willing ears: "Feed Mry sheep."






























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GIOTTO'S SHEEP. 27

Thern arld there his resolve was lade, his purpose forrred;
there lacked but the corisecratirig act.
"Siglio "
0 Sigrlore The boy started tip irl corlfusiorl.
Go orl, go ol I you lave early finishedd" He pointed to
the bas-relief of tlie dog,
But, Sigrlore, I ar afraid it is riot like erlough. What
do you tlink ?"
"It is very like, Siglio, so lile that we will compare it
witl1 the orie oil the tower whern We get 11orne,"
How naturally the "we" fell frorl hlis lips I
Siglio stopped working, ard looked up ir astoriislhrqelt,
Sigriore, how did you Krlow rmy rarrle ? "
I asked, Siglio; I Was deterrirled to firld you."
Wly, Sigrore, did you thinrl of rre ? Did you Warlt
the dog? "-there Was suppressed eagerness irl his voice, -
"because yoTu may have lirrl roow for half you offered. We
go bacl after to-rrorrow, arld Chiquito Will fare 1ard orl
tie Way. Besides -"
What 'besides' "
Through the clear, dark olive of his gaurlt cheek the red
blood shore Vividly; his lips trerrmbled.
Sigriore, you have beer kirnd to rre, arid if I have the
rrioriey I carl get more of this." He poirited to the clay.
"Why, do you like it so ruch, Siglio ?"
"Yes, Sigriore," replied the lad, catchirng Up the lurrp
that Was left, "I love thie very feel of it; there's sorre-








28 GIOTTO'S SHEEP.

thing that pricks in rly fingers wtenr I lold it so,-
see ? "
Rapidly le nlodelled a tiny larlb, catcalling Up a sharp
stone and using that arid his strong tuitrb-nail to irarl
the lines of the fleece. It was the world< of a few mrirnutes.
"Here, tale it, SignoreT It.is all I lave to give, and you
have been irld to nre." He laid it carefully in Richard's
palnl.
Aldytl pulled hirnself together With a rrighty effort at
self-cortrol.
No, you have sorrethirng else you car give rTe besides
Chiquito-arnd this," Ihe said, touchtirng the lanrb gently.
What is it, sigrnore ? Tell rre T said the boy, eagerly.
Wait a little, wait a little, till you have wl1olly finished
tlis," he pointed to the bas-relief, ard tern we will
rrake a holiday for ourselves, and after that I Will tell you."
The lad's eyes sparkled. Soorl the Work Was firlishled,
ClhiqUito Washled irl the Arno and dried in the sun, arid then
the trio took their way up to the Yiale, where they break-
fasted at the restaurant.
"If you dorl't rinrd, Siglio," said Rldytl, "I will send a
boy to Mny 1ornle With this,"-- e took Up the board with
the bas-relief Wlliclh lay beside the table; "We can't carry
it about with us, and it Will be safer there, You can corle
for it to-rrtorrow."
As you will, Signore," answered the boy, who was en-
joyirg his first full real for ranry months. Cliquito, too,








GIOTTO'S SHEEP. 29

was blissfully content, for h-e.lad l1ad a bowl of ntilk arid
afterward a saucer of corrfits, whticl were, indeed, sorely
needed to cheer Ils dog's soul after tlie depressing events
of tile rrorrning.
Thenr they ramnbled on over tie hills behind San Minriato,
slowly firndirg their way to Bellosguardo as the snrl clirrMbed
tile sky. Near the Orrbrelliro they rested irl the grateful
shade, arnd while Chiquito slept away the rloorltide, tle
Mrar drew frorr tlhe boy the story of hlis orplanred life; of
the scarnt olive harvests, arid the living that at tires Was
rrtere existence. He told hlinm of Nicol6 lhis grand-urIcle, and
Nedda tle little blind granddaughter, they were all he
had,-arnd prated of what Ile would do for therm when le
should be a man. He told lirrm, too, of the rqountairl under
the shadow of whose awful breath Ile lived; of the play-
ground le ard Nedda h1ad aronrg the old lava-beds, and
hlow, one day, hle had discovered a tiny stream of molten
rock issuing from a tlole in the rmourtain; Ilow h4e had
watched it cool, and worked some of it while it was so 10ot
tlat the palrs of his hands were blistered before le could
firlishl a little lamnb for Nedda; low at the festa Nedda had
told Giovarnlni, te blind fiddler, about the larb, and he lad
said, Corme, Siglio, lead me to Rore, and you shlall see
arlotter Inourtairl like this; I will fiddle and you shall sing,
arnd together we will grow rich or\ the 'forestieri.'" Then
Giovarnni 11ad siclenred and died in a hlut rear the Carn-
pagra, and he had begged hlis way northward with tle








30 GIOTTO'S SHEEP,

peasant folR, hopirng to earrI rrore for the return. He showed
liinr the little store of silver bits he had beer able to save
for Nicol6 arid Nedda ; they were ir a bag of sheepslirl
wlichl le h1ad Ilurig about his rleck arid kept tlidderi be-
rieatl Ihis blouse.
But last right, Sigrlore, I took 1alf you gave rre arid
bought the clay, for my firigers itched to rralie a dog like
the orie ort thle tower, arid I thought Chliquito would help rne;
that's why I lkept 1iirr; I riever thought to see you agairi."
"I do riot rearn you to lose sight of nrre rTow, Siglio,"
Aldythl replied, roved by the simple recital. Corre, we
rust be goirg."
The shadows were lerigthiernirig as they descended the
hill arid passed irito the city by the Porta Rorraria.
Ir\ place of the rrariorlettes for whichl Richard ir his
hurqarn short-sightedriess had plariried, hle substituted tlhe
Uffizi, arid showed the boy the treasures of its sculptures.
The lad gazed irl silerit worider, the pupils of his eyes di-
lating witI exciteMrerit arid tie serlsatiori of arl Unworted
stirring within hirr, that, childlike, lhe failed to interpret.
The shadows were longer still whenr they stood at last
ir. the Chapel of the Medici, before the rMaster's unfir-
ishled Day.
"Siglio, what is it?" said Richard, gently, for over the
boy's face there had come a wondrous change.
The boy looked up, his chest Ileaving, his eyes glistening
with urnshed tears. Thenr tnhe passionate southern nature


























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GIOTTO'S SHEEP. 31

burst its bounds, arid catching Richard's hard ir both llis,
he pressed kiss or kiss upbr it, sobbing uncontrollably,
rnurrrurirg brokernly, -
O, Signore, Signore T If I could but do that,--if I could
only free 1irrl frorr the store; nry heart acles so, Sigrore,
- it aches so He sperit lyirself xWitl A weeping, while
Rldyth drew lirlh to his side arid caressed the rough, curly
head Uporn w~ich his onrl tears were fallirlg.
But 1le did not care to prolong the scene. He krnew that
a reaction rnust always core, wihert in the space of a few
rinrutes life is so suddenly and painfully intensified, and
hie hasterned to anticipate it, speaking ir his ordinary tone,
with -ro trace of ernotiorln
"Corre, Siglio, we lave left ChiqUito too long; you krnow
we tied hirn irl the passage and le is riot used to it."
"FIl- Ciquito The boy spoke rerorsefully, and drew
the sleeve of his ragged blouse across llis eyes. "If it
had r't beer for 1irl, Signore, I should rneer have IrTowrn
you, and then I should not be here." He smiled again into
/Rldyth's face.
"Perhaps not," he answered, witl a rrlertal reservation;
and as they took their Way baclk to the Piazza del Duorlo
he told the boy of his hopes and desires and plans for
therl both. Little by little it Was trade clear to the lad
that the rneW life Would be but a blossorirlg of the old;
that Nicol6 and Nedda should be cared for as ever before;
that in reality, Whatever people array say, the love of Art








32 GIOTTO'S SHEEP.

is in trutl tlje love of God, arid that eactl irMst account
for tie gift that is given 1irrn, All tils 1e said irn -ords
suited for childish ears arid childish unrderstarndirig, arid by
tlVe tirle tliey 1lad reacl-ed tile Carilparlile, Siglio runder-
stood.
They stood before it a few ririnutes iri silerice. Tle
shadows Ilad fallerl. Quietly a boy's hiarnd, browri, large-
krIUlcled, spatulate-firigered, stole irito ildytrl's shlapely orie
and pressed it Witlr grateful, riervous strerigtl.
"My Mraster," 1ie lrispered, loolirng up iit4l corlterlted
eyes.
My rraster," echoed Ricdiard, irlwardly, 1lis eye seelingr
tlhe good slieplrerd's above 1iirm.
Thenr Chiquito hiliried. It iad been such a -Weary day, -
sucl a trot, trot for the pudgy legs, after the bouleverserrerit
of tile early nIorrirng. He licked thlerr corntemplatively, for
they were sore,
"I '11 tale tile dog horMe with rMie, Siglio; you Iwill tell
tie Carrpagria foll to-nriglt, and corrle to rre to-rorrrow,
early xori't you ? "
"Yes, Sigrlore." Stoopirng, he lifted Cliquito from tle
paverrert arid placed 11irm inr Richard's arrls, Witl a smile
they parted.
FelicissirMa r\otte, Sigriore."
The tired puppy's lead sanik against Aldytl's breast, and
Cliquito slept, only to a akle rlestling irl te folds of a
sillken couvre-pied.








GIOTTO'S SHEEP. 33

He stretched hlinlself, yawned, rose uponl his uncertain
legs, ard snlivering looked about 1irrl. By tile dirn firelight
4le discovered upon the rug a IlUge wlite furry rrass slowly
rising into a longitudinal curve. In his exciterernt and des-
perate 11aste to investigate tlis anornaly tile little fellow
pitched lead forernost frorn tile coucn and rolled into sucnl
close proxirrity to the furry rnass that he received a stun-
ning blow uporl his head.
Would the reverses of this riever-to-be-forgotten day have
no end?
He recovered 1irrlself, sat upriglht, ard glared at the
author of this outrage.
Burre-re-re." It Was 1is first growl, and it was not an
entire success.
"Sisse sl sisse."
"Bow-wow burre-re-re,'
His rage Kne rno bounds. He put his puppylood once
ard for all tire behind t1irr and flew at the Mnaligrer only
to be received with a soft,-
Purre-re-re."
Clliquito had conquered, and Richard, entering frorr his
studio, beheld the rough Sicilian cur and the stately, petted
Rngora in friendly conference upon the l1eartl. He 1ad
core for the relief rrodel of the dog, and seeing Cliquito
thus happily occupied, took his clay counterpart and went
back into the workroorn.
The exciterrernt of the day, suppressed for the boy's sake,








34 GIOTTO'S SHEEP.

ard Wlhat Ihe h1irrself hlad had at stale, told upon hiri rlow
that the strain Was removed. He Was restless, arid thought
to work a little. He UnwroUnd the Wet linen from the rrass
of clay on tle scaffold, arid looked at his latest arid rMost
ambitious MWorl anr Hretiusa finished, save for a feW
lines. Thern he held up the relief of Chiquito, loolirg criti-
cally from ore to the other till he experienced rrlch the
same serlsatiorl as -when, in the early raorrnirg, Ihe compared
his own hand withl Siglio's.
It carrlot be denied, I have tecrhnique," hie said aloud.
"I rarnipulate Well; I have been told that more thar once
by those in authority. Wherein do I fail? !What is the ell-
sive, fleeting anlira that all rMy Worl lacis; that, love it
as I mnay, work at it as I will, forever escapes rme? while
this-"
He looked at the clay dog, every line instinct with life.
Behind the fleshy folds, the adolescent rmUscle; beneath the
muscle, the growing unforrred bone; ard flesh arid rmuscle
ard bore quivering with a still, irresistible, appealing irtel-
ligence, the indelible starp of genius.
Aldyth groaned, turning to his own labored workl
"I have loved it so; but what does it arroUnt to? Grace
without strength, anatorny without nervous force, R sub-
ject for dissectionrT A Well-turned limb, a perfect brow, a
rounded breast. 'It shows feeling thought.' Oh, I krnow
what they say I I have lived on it so long Lived i I
have starved- fln3 thisT to disriernber it critically would








GIOTTO'S SHEEP. 35

be vivisectiorl,- tlat 's the difference betWeerl tlne t)o. It
has life-arid rmirle,"--ie stepped back, viewing it as a
totality. "T1at-life?" lhe rruttered l0oarsely. "It is a lie;
it is death- Rrld I have called tnis Art,-thisT I 1tave
Worshipped a fetich--rry GodT Wly 1ave I riot seen it
before, ry life, oil, rry life I" His very agorly broke for
relief irlto frerizy. "True, true,--to 11irr that latlh shall be
giveri; to hlirr that hatl rnot shall be takern away evert that
wkich h\e hath. I urnderstarid it row." He seized a 1iarmmrer.
"I believe it, I believe it," 1ie rrittered. R rrlar's actions
are the iconoclasts of his ideals," He struck out blindly
about 1hinm, and there followed crash upon crash of shattered
marble interrringled Witl thle 1leay thud of )et clay, rntil
all that 11ad beer the toil of inary years littered tle floor
ir unrldistirngishable fragrrerlts.
He that losethi lhis life He sarln dowrn, spent Withl that
suprerrte sacrifice of self. After a tire le gathered 11irnself
up --le was weak and trerrblig arld staggered into the
next roorr, pausing in passing to pull the bell-rope.
Paolo was ir thie kitchenr stopping both ears witlh his
fingers, and alternately bewailing is rrlaster and cursing
Toirlette for hIer apathy.
"Toirlette, tlhou urldried rracarorni thou, I tell thee Ile is
rMad. He is rrad I I dared not go in for the roise and tle
dust; but I looked irl just once, arid the Devil l1irrself w2as
there, may the holy Mother of God bury re on Friday if
I lieI Ti e well-beloved raster of rine T since drinrinrg tle








36 GIOTTO'S SHEEP.

cursed Certosa, le 's rot beer lirqnself, No manr could stand
it; it's like fire irn tie bores. Hear ilirrlT lear itirql"
Toirlette laid lIold of lnis arrn and dre-w lis 1handr somre-
wslat forcibly from lis ear. Tlou i earest rnot4inrg, tloU
Tuscan sort of a goat," sle answered stolidly, "but tle
rraster's bell a-rirngirng. Go, or array tie Devil lirjiseif 1elp
tiee 1ience I"
Uporn xic l suggestion Paolo werit perforce.
"Paolo "
"Signore," Ile answered witb clattering teetlt. Tien le
drew nearer. "I1 rnlio, Sigrnore-are you ill? 1 re you
worse "
"No, Paolo," said RicIard, smiling at Ilirr. "I'in better-
I arrt ell, Make mne a cup of strong coffee, will you and
thlen clear out the worlroorr; we shall need it to-rrorrow."
He wernt out into tile garden arid sat doWrn itr tle fra-
grance of tile rragnolias. He watched the rnoorliglit break
upon the fourntain. Once le stooped arid caught a lizard
on the rrarble rint. He Ield it a riorrernt almost caressingly,
tenr let it go.

He prayetl best, )'1o lovetl best
fll things, both great and snall,"-

That Was 1his unspokenr thoUglIt.
Later, -wern thle golden light flooded tie space between
the ilex and cypresses, and the White disls of the japorlicas
gleamed from the ledge, a rnigltirgale broke forth ilto
















'~ C '

i








































i








GIOTTO'S SHEEP. 87

sorng. Ttle rrarl drari in trle balMny air witlI deep, deep
breatl-s. InIto the holy of 1iolies of lhis consecrated thouTght
arnd desire fell ro disturbing sourld; orce orIly thle rridr(iglt
silerice 'Was brolerl, wvhler the deep rote of the DuorMo bell
fell tlrougli the air, corfortirlg, calmirng, sootlhirng this eartl-
spirit into rest.
To tirr it was thie Voice of arn arcliargel; but irl reality
it Was struck for a passing soul.



















































i








38 GIOTTO'S SHEEP,





L'ENVOI.

JVOUNT MORELLO heralded that Easter darn, ard the
rrmorrlirg wirld that crept adorwn Fiesole lingered ori the
Hrrno, crisping arld curling its Waves ere it sought tle 1eiglkts
of Sari Mirliato arld laid itself to rest arrlorg the grass.
The city prarined with flowers, tile bells rarg joyously,
arnd tlre irldex-firlger of Giotto's faitil ard love rose upward
fair arid strorig irl its trarlscerlderltal beauty. Highi irto tle
brealirg Mrorrn it was uplifted, carryirig tile eye upward arid
ever upward alorig its reaclirlg teiglt. But at tlre foot of
tile bell-tower stood a nrar, worshippirg irl tile early daWrn
at orle of Art's true slrires. There was Easter inl iis soul,
tiere Was Easter irn his life, for dowri irito thierr tlrougri the
ages 1had rurig the voice of a peasarnt Nazarerle, irlterpret-
irng arid reriderirng eloquent thle tiardicraft of his servarnt,--
"Feed ry sheep."
Tie Mraster is dead, but beirg dead yet speaketl. Irl tihe
old Tuscan city tie berligriarit face of his sheplherd still
lools fortlh from the curtairned tent Uporl thle dog that for
six centuries hIas guarded so faithfully Giotto's sleep. Arnd
rlow, as then, tlhe love of God rranrifoldly voicing itself irl
hUrnanrity, appeals rrost powerfully to hlUran rIearts, through
Art, irl enduring stone.




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