THE METAL PIG [4]
forth from its mouth. The little boy still sat astride on its back,
when he felt something pulling at his clothes. He looked down, and
there was Bellissima, little smooth-shaven Bellissima, barking as if
she would have said, "Here I am too; why are you sitting there?"
A fiery dragon could not have frightened the little boy so much as
did the little dog in this place. "Bellissima in the street, and not
dressed!" as the old lady called it; "what would be the end of this?"
The dog never went out in winter, unless she was attired in a
little lambskin coat which had been made for her; it was fastened
round the little dog's neck and body with red ribbons, and was
decorated with rosettes and little bells. The dog looked almost like a
little kid when she was allowed to go out in winter, and trot after
her mistress. And now here she was in the cold, and not dressed. Oh,
how would it end? All his fancies were quickly put to flight; yet he
kissed the Metal Pig once more, and then took Bellissima in his
arms. The poor little thing trembled so with cold, that the boy ran
homeward as fast as he could.
"What are you running away with there?" asked two of the police
whom he met, and at whom the dog barked. "Where have you stolen that
pretty dog?" they asked; and they took it away from him.
"Oh, I have not stolen it; do give it to me back again," cried the
boy, despairingly.
"If you have not stolen it, you may say at home that they can send
to the watch-house for the dog." Then they told him where the
watch-house was, and went away with Bellissima.
Here was a dreadful trouble. The boy did not know whether he had
better jump into the Arno, or go home and confess everything. They
would certainly kill him, he thought.
"Well, I would gladly be killed," he reasoned; "for then I shall
die, and go to heaven:" and so he went home, almost hoping for death.
The door was locked, and he could not reach the knocker. No one
was in the street; so he took up a stone, and with it made a
tremendous noise at the door.
"Who is there?" asked somebody from within.
"It is I," said he. "Bellissima is gone. Open the door, and then
kill me."
Then indeed there was a great panic. Madame was so very fond of
Bellissima. She immediately looked at the wall where the dog's dress
usually hung; and there was the little lambskin.
"Bellissima in the watch-house!" she cried. "You bad boy! how
did you entice her out? Poor little delicate thing, with those rough
policemen! and she'll be frozen with cold."
Giuseppe went off at once, while his wife lamented, and the boy
wept. Several of the neighbors came in, and amongst them the
painter. He took the boy between his knees, and questioned him; and,
in broken sentences, he soon heard the whole story, and also about the
Metal Pig, and the wonderful ride to the picture-gallery, which was
certainly rather incomprehensible. The painter, however, consoled
the little fellow, and tried to soften the lady's anger; but she would
not be pacified till her husband returned with Bellissima, who had
been with the police. Then there was great rejoicing, and the
painter caressed the boy, and gave him a number of pictures. Oh,
what beautiful pictures these were!- figures with funny heads; and,
above all, the Metal Pig was there too. Oh, nothing could be more
delightful. By means of a few strokes, it was made to appear on the
paper; and even the house that stood behind it had been sketched in.
Oh, if he could only draw and paint! He who could do this could
conjure all the world before him. The first leisure moment during
the next day, the boy got a pencil, and on the back of one of the
other drawings he attempted to copy the drawing of the Metal Pig,
and he succeeded. Certainly it was rather crooked, rather up and down,
one leg thick, and another thin; still it was like the copy, and he
was overjoyed at what he had done. The pencil would not go quite as it
ought,- he had