o work
from morning till night. Nothing was too small or mean for him to do.
He would even paint the hoops for women's baskets rather than send any
work away from his shop.

'Oh,' he cried, one day, 'how I wish I could paint all the walls around
Florence with my stories.'

But there was no time to do all that. He was only forty-four years old
when Death came and bade him lay down his brushes and pencil, for his
work was done.

Beneath his own frescoes they laid him to rest in the church of Santa
Maria Novella. And although we sometimes miss the soul in his pictures
and weary of the gay outward decoration of goldsmith's work, yet there
is something there which makes us love the grand show of fair ladies
and strong men in the carefully finished work of this Florentine 'Maker
of Garlands.'

FILIPPINO LIPPI

The little curly-haired Filippino, left in the charge of good Fra
Diamante, soon showed that he meant to be a painter like his father.
When, as a little boy, he drew his pictures and showed them proudly to
his mother, he told her that he, too, would learn some day to be a
great artist. And she, half smiling, would pat his curly head and tell
him that he could at least try his best.

Then, after that sad day when Lucrezia heard of Filippo's death, and
the happy little home was broken up, Fra Diamante began in earnest to
train the boy who had been left under his care. He had plenty of money,
for Filippo had been well paid for the work at Spoleto, and so it was
decided that the boy should be placed in some studio where he could be
taught all that was necessary.

There was no fear of Filippino ever wandering about the Florentine
streets cold and hungry as his father had done. And his training was
very different too. Instead of the convent and the kind monks, he was
placed under the care of a great painter, and worked in the master's
studio with other boys as well off as himself.

The name of Filippino's master was Sandro Botticelli, a Florentine
artist, who had been one of Filippo's pupils and had worked with him in
Prato. Fra Diamante knew that he was the greatest artist now in
Florence, and that he would be able to teach the child better than any
one else.

Filippino was a good, industrious boy, and had none of the faults which
had so often led his father into so much mischief and so many strange
adventures. His boyhood passed quietly by and he learned all that his
master could teach him, and then began t