the metal pig-第2章

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Here　everything　was　bright；　and　the　boy　knelt　down　by　the　first　tomb

on　his　right；　the　grave　of　Michael　Angelo；　and　sobbed　as　if　his

heart　would　break。　People　came　and　went；　mass　was　performed；　but　no

one　noticed　the　boy；　excepting　an　elderly　citizen；　who　stood　still　and

looked　at　him　for　a　moment；　and　then　went　away　like　the　rest。　Hunger

and　thirst　overpowered　the　child；　and　he　became　quite　faint　and　ill。

At　last　he　crept　into　a　corner　behind　the　marble　monuments；　and　went

to　sleep。　Towards　evening　he　was　awakened　by　a　pull　at　his　sleeve；

he　started　up；　and　the　same　old　citizen　stood　before　him。

　　　　〃Are　you　ill？　where　do　you　live？　have　you　been　here　all　day？〃　were

some　of　the　questions　asked　by　the　old　man。　After　hearing　his　answers；

the　old　man　took　him　home　to　a　small　house　close　by；　in　a　back　street。

They　entered　a　glovemaker's　shop；　where　a　woman　sat　sewing　busily。　A

little　white　poodle；　so　closely　shaven　that　his　pink　skin　could

plainly　be　seen；　frisked　about　the　room；　and　gambolled　upon　the　boy。

　　　　〃Innocent　souls　are　soon　intimate；〃　said　the　woman；　as　she

caressed　both　the　boy　and　the　dog。　These　good　people　gave　the　child

food　and　drink；　and　said　he　should　stay　with　them　all　night；　and

that　the　next　day　the　old　man；　who　was　called　Giuseppe；　would　go　and

speak　to　his　mother。　A　little　homely　bed　was　prepared　for　him；　but

to　him　who　had　so　often　slept　on　the　hard　stones　it　was　a　royal　couch；

and　he　slept　sweetly　and　dreamed　of　the　splendid　pictures　and　of　the

Metal　Pig。　Giuseppe　went　out　the　next　morning；　and　the　poor　child

was　not　glad　to　see　him　go；　for　he　knew　that　the　old　man　was　gone　to

his　mother；　and　that；　perhaps；　he　would　have　to　go　back。　He　wept　at

the　thought；　and　then　he　played　with　the　little；　lively　dog；　and

kissed　it；　while　the　old　woman　looked　kindly　at　him　to　encourage

him。　And　what　news　did　Giuseppe　bring　back？　At　first　the　boy　could　not

hear；　for　he　talked　a　great　deal　to　his　wife；　and　she　nodded　and

stroked　the　boy's　cheek。

　　　　Then　she　said；　〃He　is　a　good　lad；　he　shall　stay　with　us；　he　may

become　a　clever　glovemaker；　like　you。　Look　what　delicate　fingers　he

has　got；　Madonna　intended　him　for　a　glovemaker。〃　So　the　boy　stayed

with　them；　and　the　woman　herself　taught　him　to　sew；　and　he　ate　well；

and　slept　well；　and　became　very　merry。　But　at　last　he　began　to　tease

Bellissima；　as　the　little　dog　was　called。　This　made　the　woman　angry；

and　she　scolded　him　and　threatened　him；　which　made　him　very　unhappy；

and　he　went　and　sat　in　his　own　room　full　of　sad　thoughts。　This　chamber

looked　upon　the　street；　in　which　hung　skins　to　dry；　and　there　were

thick　iron　bars　across　his　window。　That　night　he　lay　awake；　thinking

of　the　Metal　Pig；　indeed；　it　was　always　in　his　thoughts。　Suddenly　he

fancied　he　heard　feet　outside　going　pit…a…pat。　He　sprung　out　of　bed

and　went　to　the　window。　Could　it　be　the　Metal　Pig？　But　there　was

nothing　to　be　seen；　whatever　he　had　heard　had　passed　already。　Next

morning；　their　neighbor；　the　artist；　passed　by；　carrying　a　paint…box

and　a　large　roll　of　canvas。

　　　　〃Help　the　gentleman　to　carry　his　box　of　colors；〃　said　the　woman　to

the　boy；　and　he　obeyed　instantly；　took　the　box；　and　followed　the

painter。　They　walked　on　till　they　reached　the　picture　gallery；　and

mounted　the　same　staircase　up　which　he　had　ridden　that　night　on　the

Metal　Pig。　He　remembered　all　the　statues　and　pictures；　the　beautiful

marble　Venus；　and　again　he　looked　at　the　Madonna　with　the　Saviour

and　St。　John。　They　stopped　before　the　picture　by　Bronzino；　in　which

Christ　is　represented　as　standing　in　the　lower　world；　with　the

children　smiling　before　Him；　in　the　sweet　expectation　of　entering

heaven；　and　the　poor　boy　smiled；　too；　for　here　was　his　heaven。

　　　　〃You　may　go　home　now；〃　said　the　painter；　while　the　boy　stood

watching　him；　till　he　had　set　up　his　easel。

　　　　〃May　I　see　you　paint？〃　asked　the　boy；　〃may　I　see　you　put　the

picture　on　this　white　canvas？〃

　　　　〃I　am　not　going　to　paint　yet；〃　replied　the　artist；　then　he　brought

out　a　piece　of　chalk。　His　hand　moved　quickly；　and　his　eye　measured　the

great　picture；　and　though　nothing　appeared　but　a　faint　line；　the

figure　of　the　Saviour　was　as　clearly　visible　as　in　the　colored

picture。

　　　　〃Why　don't　you　go？〃　said　the　painter。　Then　the　boy　wandered　home

silently；　and　seated　himself　on　the　table；　and　learned　to　sew

gloves。　But　all　day　long　his　thoughts　were　in　the　picture　gallery；　and

so　he　pricked　his　fingers　and　was　awkward。　But　he　did　not　tease

Bellissima。　When　evening　came；　and　the　house　door　stood　open；　he

slipped　out。　It　was　a　bright；　beautiful；　starlight　evening；　but　rather

cold。　Away　he　went　through　the　already…deserted　streets；　and　soon　came

to　the　Metal　Pig；　he　stooped　down　and　kissed　its　shining　nose；　and

then　seated　himself　on　its　back。

　　　　〃You　happy　creature；〃　he　said；　〃how　I　have　longed　for　you！　we　must

take　a　ride　to…night。〃

　　　　But　the　Metal　Pig　lay　motionless；　while　the　fresh　stream　gushed

forth　from　its　mouth。　The　little　boy　still　sat　astride　on　its　back；

when　he　felt　something　pulling　at　his　clothes。　He　looked　down；　and

there　was　Bellissima；　little　smooth…shaven　Bellissima；　barking　as　if

she　would　have　said；　〃Here　I　am　too；　why　are　you　sitting　there？〃

　　　　A　fiery　dragon　could　not　have　frightened　the　little　boy　so　much　as

did　the　little　dog　in　this　place。　〃Bellissima　in　the　street；　and　not

dressed！〃　as　the　old　lady　called　it；　〃what　would　be　the　end　of　this？〃

　　　　The　dog　never　went　out　in　winter；　unless　she　was　attired　in　a

little　lambskin　coat　which　had　been　made　for　her；　it　was　fastened

round　the　little　dog's　neck　and　body　with　red　ribbons；　and　was

decorated　with　rosettes　and　little　bells。　The　dog　looked　almost　like　a

little　kid　when　she　was　allowed　to　go　out　in　winter；　and　trot　after

her　mistress。　And　now　here　she　was　in　the　cold；　and　not　dressed。　Oh；

how　would　it　end？　All　his　fancies　were　quickly　put　to　flight；　yet　he

kissed　the　Metal　Pig　once　more；　and　then　took　Bellissima　in　his

arms。　The　poor　little　thing　trembled　so　with　cold；　that　the　boy　ran

homeward　as　fast　as　he　could。

　　　　〃What　are　you　running　away　with　there？〃　asked　two　of　the　police

whom　he　met；　and　at　whom　the　dog　barked。　〃Where　have　you　stolen　that

pretty　dog？〃　they　asked；　and　they　took　it　away　from　him。

　　　　〃Oh；　I　have　not　stolen　it；　do　give　it　to　me　back　again；〃　cried　the

boy；　despairingly。

　　　　〃If　you　have　not　stolen　it；　you　may　say　at　home　that　they　can　send

to　the　watch…house　for　the　dog。〃　Then　they　told　him　where　the

watch…house　was；　and　went　away　with　Bellissima。

　　　　Here　was　a　dreadful　trouble。　The　boy　did　not　know　whether　he　had

better　jump　into　the　Arno；　or　go　home　and　confess　everything。　They

would　certainly　kill　him；　he　thought。

　　　　〃Well；　I　would　gladly　be　killed；〃　he　reasoned；　〃for　then　I　shall

die；　and　go　to　heaven：〃　and　so　he　went　home；　almost　hoping　for　death。

　　　　The　door　was　locked；　and　he　could　not　reach　the　knocker。　No　one

was　in　the　street；　so　he　took　up　a　stone；　and　with　it　made　a

tremendous　noise　at　the　door。

　　　　〃Who　is　there？〃　asked　somebody　from　within。

　　　　〃It　is　I；〃　said　he。　〃Bellissima　is　gone。　Open　the　door；　and　then

kill　me。〃

　　　　Then　indeed　there　was　a　great　panic。　Madame　was　so　very　fond　of

Bellissima。　She　immediately　looked　at　the　wall　where　the　dog's　dress

usually　hung；　and　there　was　the　little　lambskin。

　　　　〃Bellissima　in　the　watch…house！〃　she　cried。　〃You　bad　boy！　how

did　you　entice　her　out？　Poor　little　delicate　thing；　with　those　rough

policemen！　and　she'll　be　frozen　with　cold。〃

　　　　Giuseppe　went　off　at　once；　while　his　wife　lamented；　and　the　boy

wept。　Several　of　the　neighbors　came　in；　and　amongst　them　the

painter。　He　took　the　boy　between　his　knees；　and　questioned　him；　and；

in　broken　sentences；　he　soon　heard　the　whole　story；　and　also　about　the

Metal　Pig；　and　the　wonderful　ride　to　the　picture…gallery；　which　was

certainly　rather　incomprehensible。　The　painter；　however；　consoled

the　little　fellow；　and　tried　to　soften　the　lady's　anger；　but　she　would

not　be　pacified　till　her　husband　returned　with　Bellissima；　who　had

been　with　the　police。　Then　there　was　great　rejoicing；　and　the

painter　caressed　the　boy；　and　gave　him　a　number　of　pictures。　Oh；

what　beautiful　pictures　these　were！…　figures　with　funny　heads；　and；

above　all；　the　Metal　Pig　was　there　too。　Oh；　nothing　could　be　more

delightful。　By　means　of　a　few　strokes；　it　was　made　to　appear　on　the

paper；　and　even　the　house　that　stood　behind　it　had　been　sketched　in。

Oh；　if　he　could　only　draw　and　paint！　He　who　could　do　this　could

conjure　all　the　world　before　him。　The　first　leisure　moment　during

the　next　day；　the　boy　got　a　pencil；　and　on　the　back　of　one　of　the

other　drawings　he　attempted　to　copy　the　drawing　of　the　Metal　Pig；

and　he　succeeded。　Certainly　it　was　rather　crooked；　rather　up　and　down；

one　leg　thick；　and　another　thin；　still　it　was　like　the　copy；　and　he

was　overjoyed　at　what　he　had　done。　The　pencil　would　not　go　quite　as　it

ought；…　he　had　found　that　out；　but　the　next　day　he　tried　again。　A

second　pig　was　drawn　by　the　side　of　the　first；　and　this　looked　a

hundred　times　better；　and　the　third　attempt　was　so　good；　that

everybody　might　know　what　it　was　meant　to　represent。

　　　　And　now　the　glovemaking　went　on　but　slowly。　The　orders　given　by

the　shops　in　the　town　were　not　finished　quickly；　for　the　Metal　Pig　had

taught　the　boy　that　all　objects　may　be　drawn　upon　paper；　and

Florence　is　a　picture…book　in　itself　for　any　one　who　chooses　to　turn

over　its　pages。　On　the　Piazza　dell　Trinita　stands　a　slender　pillar；

and　upon　it　is　the　goddess　of　Justice；　blindfolded；　with　her　scales　in

her　hand。　She　was　soon　represented　on　paper；　and　it　was　the

glovemaker's　boy　who　placed　her　there。　His　collection　of　pictures

increased；　but　as　yet　they　were　only　copies　of　lifeless　objects；

when　one　day　Bellissima　came　gambolling　before　him：　〃Stand　still；〃

cried　he；　〃and　I　will　draw　you　beautifully；　to　put　amongst　my

collection。〃

　　　　But　Bellissima　would　not　stand　still；　so　she　must　be　bound　fast　in

one　position。　He　tied　her　head　and　tail；　but　she　barked　and　jumped；

and　so　pulled　and　tightened　the　string；　that　she　was　nearly　strangled；

and　just　then　her　mistress　walked　in。

　　　　〃You　wicked　boy！　the　poor　little　creature！〃　was　all　she　could

utter。

　　　　She　pushed　the　boy　from　her；　thrust　him　away　with　her　foot；　called

him　a　most　ungrateful；　good…for…nothing；　wicked　boy；　and　forbade　him

to　enter　the　house　again。　Then　she　wept；　and　kissed　her　little

half…strangled　Bellissima。　At　this　moment　the　painter　entered　the

room。



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　　　　In　the　year　1834　there　was　an　exhibition　in　the　Academy　of　Arts　at

Florence。　Two　pictures；　placed　side　by　side；　attracted　a　large

number　of　spectators。　The　smaller　of　the　two　represented　a　little

boy　sitting　at　a　table；　drawing；　before　him　was　a　little　white　poodle；

curiously　shaven；　but　as　the　animal　would　not　stand　still；　it　had　been

fastened　with　a　string　to　its　head　and　tail；　to　keep　it　in　one

position。　The　truthfulness　and　life　in　this　picture　interested　every

one。　The