rode back together to Florence.

Presently the lawyer turned to look at Giotto, and
immediately burst into a loud laugh. The rain was
running from the painter's cap, he was splashed with
mud, and the old cloak made him look like a very
forlorn beggar.

`Dost think if any one met thee now, they would
believe that thou art the best painter in the
world?' laughed the lawyer.

Giotto's eyes twinkled as he looked at the funny
figure riding beside him, for the lawyer was very
small, and had a crooked back, and rolled up in the
old cloak he looked like a bundle of rags.

`Yes!' he answered quickly, `any one would
certainly believe I was a great painter, if he could
but first persuade himself that thou dost know
thy A B C.'

In all these stories we catch glimpses of the good-
natured kindly painter, with his love of jokes, and
his own ready answers, and all the time we must
remember that he was filling the world with beauty,
which it still treasures to-day, helping to sow the
seeds of that great tree of Art which was to blossom
so gloriously in later years.