And she would take him upon her lap and sing to him, or tell him stories that filled his mind with pictures of wonderful and beautiful things.  And the next day, when he went back to the stone-yard, he would try to make some of those pictures in stone or clay.

There lived in the same town a rich man who was called the Count.  Sometimes the Count would have a grand dinner, and his rich friends from other towns would come to visit him.  Then Antonio’s grandfather would go up to the Count’s house to help with the work in the kitchen; for he was a fine cook as well as a good stone-cut-ter.

It happened one day that Antonio went with his grandfather to the Count’s great house.  Some people from the city were coming, and there was to be a grand feast.  The boy could not cook, and he was not old enough to wait on the table; but he could wash the pans and kettles, and as he was smart and quick, he could help in many other ways.

All went well until it was time to spread the table for dinner.  Then there was a crash in the dining room, and a man rushed into the kitchen with some pieces of marble in his hands.  He was pale, and trembling with fright.

“What shall I do?  What shall I do?” he cried.  “I have broken the statue that was to stand at the center of the table.  I cannot make the table look pretty without the statue.  What will the Count say?”

And now all the other servants were in trouble.  Was the dinner to be a failure after all?  For everything de-pend-ed on having the table nicely arranged.  The Count would be very angry.

“Ah, what shall we do?” they all asked.

Then little Antonio Ca-no-va left his pans and kettles, and went up to the man who had caused the trouble.

“If you had another statue, could you arrange the table?” he asked.

“Cer-tain-ly,” said the man; “that is, if the statue were of the right length and height.”

“Will you let me try to make one?” asked Anto-nio “Perhaps I can make something that will do.”

The man laughed.

“Non-sense!” he cried.  “Who are you, that you talk of making statues on an hour’s notice?”

“I am Antonio Canova,” said the lad.

“Let the boy try what he can do,” said the servants, who knew him.

And so, since nothing else could be done, the man allowed him to try.

On the kitchen table there was a large square lump of yellow butter.  Two hundred pounds the lump weighed, and it had just come in, fresh and clean, from the dairy on the mountain.  With a kitchen knife in his hand, Antonio began to cut and carve this butter.  In a few minutes he had molded it into the shape of a crouching lion; and all the servants crowded around to see it.

“How beautiful!” they cried.  “It is a great deal pret-ti-er than the statue that was broken.”

When it was finished, the man carried it to its place.

“The table will be hand-som-er by half than I ever hoped to make it,” he said.