uriosity was aroused.

Never before had he met an Italian who would not take money when it was
offered him.

"Perhaps you would be willing, young man, to tell us more about
yourself," said he at last. "You work in the glass factory, you say.
Have you been long there?"

Giusippe smiled, showing two rows of dazzling white teeth.

"So long, senor, that I cannot remember when I was not there. And
before me was my father, and my grandfather; and before that his
father; and so on back for years and years. There was always a Cicone
at Murano. For you must know, senor, that glass-making has ever been
the great art of Venice. When paintings began to take the place of the
glass mosaics then came the height of fame for Venetian glass. For you
will remember that for many years before artists could paint people
made pictures out of bits of glass, and in this way represented to
those who had no books scenes from the Bible or from history. Then
wonderful painters were born in Italy and they crowded out the mosaic
makers, who had previously decorated the churches, palaces, and public
buildings. The making of glass mosaics died out and it was then that
the Venetian artisans turned their attention and their skill to the
making of other glass things--beads, mirrors, drinking cups, and
ornaments. In fact," went on Giusippe, "there soon became so many glass
houses in Venice that the Great Council feared a terrible fire might
sweep the island, and in 1291, with the exception of a few factories
for small articles, all the glass houses were banished to the island of
Murano a mile distant where, if fire came, no destruction could be done
to the city of Venice itself. Those factories which were allowed to
remain had to have a space of fifteen paces around them. By the decree
of the Council the other glass houses were torn down."

"And it was thus that your great-great-great-great-great-grandfather
was driven to Murano, was it?" queried Mr. Cabot.

"Yes. He was a member of the guild of bead-makers. For you know,
senor, that in those days workmen were banded together in guilds,
and kept the mysteries of their trade to themselves. The precious
secret was handed down from father to son. So it was with my
great-great-great-great-great-grandfather."

Giusippe drew himself up.

"Oh, it was a grand thing to be a glass-maker in those days, senor!"
continued the boy, his eyes glowing. "The members of the guilds were so
honored in Venice that the