Knights of the Art | Page 8

thought this must all be a joke.
`How foolish we shall look if we take only a round O to show his
Holiness,' they said.
But they could get nothing else from Giotto, so they were obliged to be
content and to send it with the other drawings, taking care to explain
just how it was done.
The Pope and his advisers looked carefully over all the drawings, and,
when they came to that round O, they knew that only a master-hand

could have made such a perfect circle without the help of a compass.
Without a moment's hesitation they decided that Giotto was the man
they wanted, and they at once invited him to come to Rome to decorate
the cathedral walls. So when the story was known the people became
prouder than ever of their great painter, and the round O of Giotto has
become a proverb to this day in Tuscany.
`Round as the O of Giotto, d' ye see; Which means as well done as a
thing can be.'
Later on, when Giotto was at Naples, he was painting in the palace
chapel one very hot day, when the king came in to watch him at his
work. It really was almost too hot to move, and yet Giotto painted away
busily.
`Giotto,' said the king, `if I were in thy place I would give up painting
for a while and take my rest, now that it is so hot.'
`And, indeed, so I would most certainly do,' answered Giotto, `if I were
in your place, your Majesty.'
It was these quick answers and his merry smile that charmed every one,
and made the painter a favourite with rich and poor alike.
There are a great many stories told of him, and they all show what a
sunny-tempered, kindly man he was.
It is said that one day he was standing in one of the narrow streets of
Florence talking very earnestly to a friend, when a pig came running
down the road in a great hurry. It did not stop to look where it was
going, but ran right between the painter's legs and knocked him flat on
his back, putting an end to his learned talk.
Giotto scrambled to his feet with a rueful smile, and shook his finger at
the pig which was fast disappearing in the distance.
`Ah, well!' he said, `I suppose thou hadst as much right to the road as I
had. Besides, how many gold pieces I have earned by the help of thy

bristles, and never have I given any of thy family even a drop of soup
in payment.'
Another time he went riding with a very learned lawyer into the
country to look after his property. For when Bondone died, he left all
his fields and his farm to his painter son. Very soon a storm came on,
and the rain poured down as if it never meant to stop.
`Let us seek shelter in this farmhouse and borrow a cloak,' suggested
Giotto.
So they went in and borrowed two old cloaks from the farmer, and
wrapped themselves up from head to foot. Then they mounted their
horses and rode back together to Florence.
Presently the lawyer turned to look at Giotto, and immediately burst
into a loud laugh. The rain was running from the painter's cap, he was
splashed with mud, and the old cloak made him look like a very forlorn
beggar.
`Dost think if any one met thee now, they would believe that thou art
the best painter in the world?' laughed the lawyer.
Giotto's eyes twinkled as he looked at the funny figure riding beside
him, for the lawyer was very small, and had a crooked back, and rolled
up in the old cloak he looked like a bundle of rags.
`Yes!' he answered quickly, `any one would certainly believe I was a
great painter, if he could but first persuade himself that thou dost know
thy A B C.'
In all these stories we catch glimpses of the good- natured kindly
painter, with his love of jokes, and his own ready answers, and all the
time we must remember that he was filling the world with beauty,
which it still treasures to-day, helping to sow the seeds of that great tree
of Art which was to blossom so gloriously in later years.
And when he had finished his earthly work it was in his own cathedral,

`St. Mary of the Flowers,' that they laid him to rest, while the people
mourned him as a good friend as well as a great painter. There he lies
in the shadow of his lily tower, whose slender grace and delicate-tinted
marbles keep his memory ever fresh in his beautiful city of Florence.
FRA ANGELICO
Nearly a hundred