The Villa d'Asola, the country residence of the Signor Falieri,
was in a state of unusual excitement. Some of the most
distinguished patricians of Venice had been bidden to a great
banquet, which was to surpass in magnificence any entertainment
ever before given, even by the wealthy and hospitable Signer
Falieri.

The feast was ready, the guests were assembled, when word came
from the confectioner, who had been charged to prepare the center
ornament for the table, that he had spoiled the piece.
Consternation reigned in the servants' hall. What was to be done?
The steward, or head servant, was in despair. He was responsible
for the table decorations, and the absence of the centerpiece
would seriously mar the arrangements. He wrung his hands and
gesticulated wildly. What should he do!

"If you will let me try, I think I can make something that will
do." The speaker was a delicate, pale-faced boy, about twelve
years old, who had been engaged to help in some of the minor
details of preparation for the great event. "You!" exclaimed the
steward, gazing in amazement at the modest, yet apparently
audacious lad before him. "And who are you?" "I am Antonio Canova,
the grandson of Pisano, the stonecutter." Desperately grasping at
even the most forlorn hope, the perplexed servant gave the boy
permission to try his hand at making a centerpiece.

Calling for some butter, with nimble fingers and the skill of a
practiced sculptor, in a short time the little scullion molded the
figure of a crouching lion. So perfect in proportion, so spirited
and full of life in every detail, was this marvelous butter lion