But there wasnothing to be seen; whatever he had heard had passed already. Nextmorning, their neighbor, the artist, passed by, carrying a paint-boxand a large roll of canvas.
  "Help the gentleman to carry his box of colors," said the woman tothe boy; and he obeyed instantly, took the box, and followed thepainter. They walked on till they reached the picture gallery, andmounted the same staircase up which he had ridden that night on theMetal Pig. He remembered all the statues and pictures, the beautifulmarble Venus, and again he looked at the Madonna with the Saviourand St. John. They stopped before the picture by Bronzino, in whichChrist is represented as standing in the lower world, with thechildren smiling before Him, in the sweet expectation of enteringheaven; and the poor boy smiled, too, for here was his heaven.
  "You may go home now," said the painter, while the boy stoodwatching him, till he had set up his easel.
  "May I see you paint?" asked the boy; "may I see you put thepicture on this white canvas?"
  "I am not going to paint yet," replied the artist; then he broughtout a piece of chalk. His hand moved quickly, and his eye measured thegreat picture; and though nothing appeared but a faint line, thefigure of the Saviour was as clearly visible as in the coloredpicture.
  "Why don't you go?" said the painter. Then the boy wandered homesilently, and seated himself on the table, and learned to sewgloves. But all day long his thoughts were in the picture gallery; andso he pricked his fingers and was awkward. But he did not teaseBellissima. When evening came, and the house door stood open, heslipped out. It was a bright, beautiful, starlight evening, but rathercold. Away he went through the already-deserted streets, and soon cameto the Metal Pig; he stooped down and kissed its shining nose, andthen seated himself on its back.
  "You happy creature," he said; "how I have longed for you! we musttake a ride to-night."
  But the Metal Pig lay motionless, while the fresh stream gushedforth from its mouth. The little boy still sat astride on its back,when he felt something pulling at his clothes. He looked down, andthere was Bellissima, little smooth-shaven Bellissima, barking as ifshe would have said, "Here I am too; why are you sitting there?"
  A fiery dragon could not have frightened the little boy so much asdid the little dog in this place. "Bellissima in the street, and notdressed!" 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 alittle lambskin coat which had been made for her; it was fastenedround the little dog's neck and body with red ribbons, and wasdecorated with rosettes and little bells. The dog looked almost like alittle kid when she was allowed to go out in winter, and trot afterher 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 hekissed the Metal Pig once more, and then took Bellissima in hisarms. The poor little thing trembled so with cold, that the boy ranhomeward as fast as he could.
  "What are you running away with there?" asked two of the policewhom he met, and at whom the dog barked. "Where have you stolen thatpretty dog?" they asked; and they took it away from him.
  "Oh, I have not stolen it; do give it to me back again," cried theboy, despairingly.
  "If you have not stolen it, you may say at home that they can sendto the watch-house for the dog." Then they told him where thewatch-house was, and went away with Bellissima.
  Here was a dreadful trouble. The boy did not know whether he hadbetter jump into the Arno, or go home and confess everything. Theywould certainly kill him, he thought.
  "Well, I would gladly be killed," he reasoned; "for then I shalldie, 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 onewas in the street; so he took up a stone, and with it made atremendous noise at the door.
  "Who is there?"