e some of the mosaics
in St. Mark's, a descendant of one of the old Murano glass workers
named Radi, together with a Dr. Salviati, started a factory on the
Grand Canal, where they gradually revived some of the past glory of
Venice. They copied the old time glass products, making Arab lamps such
as hung in the mosques; cameo work similar to the Naples and Portland
vases; and pictures in mosaic. It was they who did The Last Supper for
Westminster Abbey, and the mosaics for Albert Memorial Hall in London."

"But Salviati's mosaics were not like those here, senor," put in
Giusippe, "because the San Marco mosaics were constructed upon the
walls, small cubes of glass being pressed into the moist cement to make
the picture. This gave a rough, irregular surface which artists say is
far more artistic than is Salviati's smooth, glassy work. When Salviati
sent mosaics away he made them here, and then backed them with cement
so they could be placed on a slab of solid material and transported
great distances from Venice. His pictures, it is true, were far more
perfectly done than were the old mosaics--too perfectly, I have heard
glass experts say."

"Undoubtedly they are right, Giusippe, for the roughness in the ancient
mosaics would, of course, break up the great plain surfaces and make
them more interesting. But Salviati did Venice a service, nevertheless,
in reviving the art. And there is, too, another virtue about mosaics,
and that is that they will endure far longer than paintings. Had it not
been for the foresight of Pope Urban, who between 1600 and 1700 had
many of the famous pictures of the Vatican copied in mosaic, these
masterpieces would have been lost to the world."

"I have been told that the church in Ravenna has some fine mosaics, but
I never have seen them," Giusippe ventured.

"I have. They are beautiful, and I hope you may see them some time.
Then there are others scattered through the various churches of Sicily
and Rome; and there are also many beautiful inlays of mosaic decorating
the old churches and palaces of European cities. When we visit
Westminster Abbey, Jean, I must show you the crude early mosaic work on
the tomb of Edward the Confessor. It is very curious, for it is made of
pieces of colored glass set in grooves of marble."

"How much you are to see, senorita," observed Giusippe wistfully.

Mr. Cabot fixed his eyes attentively on the boy.

"Should you, too, like to see all these wonders, Giusippe