ssing. And still in many towns you will
find in some old dusty corner a beautiful picture, painted by a master
hand. A gleam of colour will catch your eye, and looking up you see a
picture or little shrine of exquisite blue-and-white glazed pottery,
where the Madonna kneels and worships the Infant Christ lying amongst
the lilies at her feet. The old battered lamp which hangs in front of
these shrines is still kept lighted by some faithful hand, and in
spring-time the children will often come and lay little bunches of
wild-flowers on the ledge below.

'It is for the Jesu Bambino,' they will say, and their little faces
grow solemn and reverent as they kneel and say a prayer. Then off again
they go to their play.

In a little side-street of Prato, not far from the convent where
Filippino's father first saw Lucrezia's lovely face in the sunny
garden, there is one of these wayside shrines. It is painted by
Filippino, and is one of his most beautiful pictures. The sweet face of
the Madonna looks down upon the busy street below, and the Holy Child
lifts His little hand in blessing, amid the saints which stand on
either side.

The glass that covers the picture is thick with dust, and few who pass
ever stop to look up. The world is all too busy nowadays. The hurrying
feet pass by, the unseeing eyes grow more and more careless. But
Filippino's beautiful Madonna looks on with calm, sad eyes, and the
Christ Child, surrounded by the cloud of little angel faces, still
holds in His uplifted hand a blessing for those who seek it.

Like all the great Florentine artists, Filippino, as soon as he grew
famous, was invited to Rome, and he painted many pictures there. On his
way he stopped for a while at Spoleto, and there he designed a
beautiful marble monument for his father's tomb.

Unlike that father, Filippino was never fond of travel or adventure,
and was always glad to return to Florence and live his quiet life
there. Not even an invitation from the King of Hungary could tempt him
to leave home.

It was in the great church of Santa Maria Novella in Florence that
Filippino painted his last frescoes. They are very real and lifelike,
as one of the great painter's pupils once learned to his cost.
Filippino had, of course, many pupils who worked under him. They ground
his colours and watched him work, and would sometimes be allowed to
prepare the less important parts of the picture.

Now it happened that one day when the master ha