in the sunlight, or the tender green of the shooting
corn made the valley beautiful in early spring. In
summer there was little shade from the blazing sun
as it rode high in the blue sky, and the grass which
grew among the grey rocks was often burnt and
brown. But, nevertheless, it was here that the
sheep of the village would be turned out to find
what food they could, tended and watched by one
of the village boys.

So it happened that when Giotto was ten years
old his father sent him to take care of the sheep
upon the hillside. Country boys had then no
schools to go to or lessons to learn, and Giotto spent
long happy days, in sunshine and rain, as he followed
the sheep from place to place, wherever they could
find grass enough to feed on. But Giotto did something
else besides watching his sheep. Indeed, he
sometimes forgot all about them, and many a search
he had to gather them all together again. For
there was one thing he loved doing better than
all beside, and that was to try to draw pictures of
all the things he saw around him.

It was no easy matter for the little shepherd lad.
He had no pencils or paper, and he had never, perhaps,
seen a picture in all his life. But all this
mattered little to him. Out there, under the blue
sky, his eyes made pictures for him out of the fleecy
white clouds as they slowly changed from one form