open　gallery　hung　with　rags。　From　here　a　flight　of　steps　led　down　to　a
  court；　where　from　a　well　water　was　drawn　up　by　iron　rollers　to　the
  different　stories　of　the　house；　and　where　the　water…buckets　hung
  side　by　side。　Sometimes　the　roller　and　the　bucket　danced　in　the　air；
  splashing　the　water　all　over　the　court。　Another　broken…down
  staircase　led　from　the　gallery；　and　two　Russian　sailors　running　down
  it　almost　upset　the　poor　boy。　They　were　coming　from　their　nightly
  carousal。　A　woman　not　very　young；　with　an　unpleasant　face　and　a
  quantity　of　black　hair；　followed　them。　〃What　have　you　brought　home？〃
  she　asked。　when　she　saw　the　boy。
  〃Don't　be　angry；〃　he　pleaded；　〃I　received　nothing；　I　have
  nothing　at　all；〃　and　he　seized　his　mother's　dress　and　would　have
  kissed　it。　Then　they　went　into　a　little　room。　I　need　not　describe
  it；　but　only　say　that　there　stood　in　it　an　earthen　pot　with　handles；
  made　for　holding　fire；　which　in　Italy　is　called　a　marito。　This　pot　she
  took　in　her　lap；　warmed　her　fingers；　and　pushed　the　boy　with　her
  elbow。
  〃Certainly　you　must　have　some　money；〃　she　said。　The　boy　began　to
  cry；　and　then　she　struck　him　with　her　foot　till　he　cried　out　louder。
  〃Will　you　be　quiet？　or　I'll　break　your　screaming　head；〃　and　she
  swung　about　the　fire…pot　which　she　held　in　her　hand；　while　the　boy
  crouched　to　the　earth　and　screamed。
  Then　a　neighbor　came　in；　and　she　had　also　a　marito　under　her
  arm。　〃Felicita；〃　she　said；　〃what　are　you　doing　to　the　child？〃
  〃The　child　is　mine；〃　she　answered；　〃I　can　murder　him　if　I　like；
  and　you　too；　Giannina。〃　And　then　she　swung　about　the　fire…pot。　The
  other　woman　lifted　up　hers　to　defend　herself；　and　the　two　pots　clashed
  together　so　violently　that　they　were　dashed　to　pieces；　and　fire　and
  ashes　flew　about　the　room。　The　boy　rushed　out　at　the　sight；　sped
  across　the　courtyard；　and　fled　from　the　house。　The　poor　child　ran　till
  he　was　quite　out　of　breath；　at　last　he　stopped　at　the　church；　the
  doors　of　which　were　opened　to　him　the　night　before；　and　went　in。
  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　withi