nd Mona Lisa spied me and both gave a little cry of
surprise and delight.

"Where have you been?" I asked--"you fine old lovers!"

And then they explained that it was a Holy Day and they had been over to
the Church of San Giorgio, and were now on their way to Santa Maria de'
Frari.

"It is a very special mass, by torchlight, and is for the repose of the
soul of Titian, who is buried there. You may never have an opportunity to
see such a sight again--come with us," and Enrico held out his strong
brown hand.

I stepped aboard, the boats opened out to the left and to the right, and
we passed with that peculiar rippling sound, across the water that
reflected the lights as of a myriad stars.

* * * * *

Titian was born one hundred years before Rubens, and died just six months
before Rubens' birth.

On the one hundred twenty-second anniversary of the birth of Titian,
Rubens knelt at his grave, there in the church of Santa Maria de' Frari,
and vowed he would follow in the footsteps of the illustrious master. And
the next day he wrote to his mother describing the incident. Thousands of
other sentimental and impulsive youth have stood before that little slab
of black marble on which is carved the simple legend, "Tiziano Vecellio,"
and vowed as Rubens did, but out of the throng not one rendered such
honor to the master as did the brilliant Fleming. The example of Titian
was a lifelong inspiration to Rubens; and to all his pupils he held up
Titian as the painter par excellence. In the Rubens studio Titian was the
standard by which all art was gauged.

When Rubens returned to Flanders from Italy he carried with him
twenty-one pictures done by the hand of the master.

Titian was born at the little village of Cadore, a few miles north of
Venice. When ten years of age his father took him down to the city and
apprenticed him to a worker in mosaic, the intent of the fond parent
probably being to get the youngster out of the way, more than anything
else.

The setting together of the little bits of colored glass, according to a
pattern supplied, is a task so simple that children can do it about as
well as grown folks. They do the work there today just exactly as they
did four hundred years ago, when little Tiziano Vecellio came down from
Cadore and worked, getting his ears pinched when he got sleepy, or
carelessly put in the red glass when he should have used the blue.

An inscription on a tomb