which scarcely showed a trace of the precious
colour.

`Yes,' said Perugino cheerfully, `thou canst see
thyself how it goes.'

Then afterwards, when the prior had sadly gone
off with his little empty bag, Perugino carefully
poured the water from the bowl and gathered
together the grains of colour which had sunk to the
bottom.

`Here is something that belongs to thee,' he said
sternly to the astonished prior. `I would have thee
learn to trust honest men and not treat them as
thieves. For with all thy suspicious care, it was
easy to rob thee if I had had a mind.'

During all these years in which Perugino had
worked so diligently, the art of painting had been
growing rapidly. Many of the new artists shook
off the old rules and ideas, and began to paint in
quite a new way. There was one man especially,
called Michelangelo, whose story you will hear
later on, who arose like a giant, and with his new
way and greater knowledge swept everything before
him.

Perugino was jealous of all these new ideas, and
clung more closely than ever to his old ideals, his