man's nose. He tried to brush it off, but it remained there. It was
only a painted fly.

"Who has done this?" he cried. He was angry, and yet he was pleased.

Little Giotto came out from a corner, trembling and ashamed. "I did
it, master," he said. "It was a good place for a fly, and I never
thought of spoiling your picture."

He expected to be punished. But Cimabue only praised him for his great
skill. "There are few men who can draw so good a picture of a fly,"
he said.

This happened six hundred years ago, in the city of Florence in Italy.
The shepherd boy became a very famous painter and the friend of many
famous men.




TWO GREAT PAINTERS



There was once a painter whose name was Zeuxis. [Footnote: Zeuxis
(_pro_. zuke'sis).] He could paint pictures so life-like that they were
mistaken for the real things which they represented.

At one time he painted the picture of some fruit which was so real
that the birds flew down and pecked at it. This made him very proud