sky.
Much good service had that gateway seen, and it was as strong as when
it had been first built hundreds of years before, and was still able to
shut out an army of enemies, if Perugia had need to defend herself.

Pietro and his father quickly threaded their way through the crowd, and
passed through the gateway into the steep narrow street beyond. It was
cool and quiet here. The sun was shut out by the tall houses, and the
shadows lay so deep that one might have thought it was the hour of
twilight, but for the peep of bright blue sky which showed between the
overhanging eaves above. Presently they reached the great square
market-place, where all again was sunshine and bustle, with people
shouting and selling their wares, which they spread out on the ground
up to the very steps of the cathedral and all along in front of the
Palazzo Publico. Here the man stopped, and asked one of the passers-by
if he could direct him to the shop of Niccolo the painter.

'Yonder he dwells,' answered the citizen, and pointed to a humble shop
at the corner of the market-place. 'Hast thou brought the child to be a
model?'

Pietro held his head up proudly, and answered quickly for himself.

'I am no longer a child,' he said; 'and I have come to work and not to
sit idle.'

The man laughed and went his way, while father and son hurried on
towards the little shop and entered the door.

The old painter was busy, and they had to wait a while until he could
leave his work and come to see what they might want.

'This is the boy of whom I spoke,' said the father as he pushed Pietro
forward by his shoulder. 'He is not well grown, but he is strong, and
has learnt to endure hardness. I promise thee that he will serve thee
well if thou wilt take him as thy servant.'

The painter smiled down at the little eager face which was waiting so
anxiously for his answer.

'What canst thou do?' he asked the boy.

'Everything,' answered Pietro promptly. 'I can sweep out thy shop and
cook thy dinner. I will learn to grind thy colours and wash thy
brushes, and do a man's work.'

'In faith,' laughed the painter, 'if thou canst do everything, being
yet so young, thou wilt soon be the greatest man in Perugia, and bring
great fame to this fair city. Then will we call thee no longer Pietro
Vanucci, but thou shalt take the city's name, and we will call thee
Perugino.'

The master spoke in jest, but as time went on and he watched the boy at
work, he marvelle