The blazing ship is seen no more.
There was powder in the hold!
* * * * *
A long time ago a lady, whose name was Mrs. Hemans, wrote a poem about
this brave boy Ca-sa-bi-an-ca. It is not a very well written poem, and
yet everybody has read it, and thousands of people have learned it by
heart. I doubt not but that some day you too will read it. It begins
in this way:--
"The boy stood on the burning deck
Whence all but him had fled;
The flame that lit the battle's wreck
Shone round him o'er the dead.
"Yet beautiful and bright he stood,
As born to rule the storm--
A creature of heroic blood,
A proud though childlike form."
ANTONIO CANOVA.
A good many years ago there lived in Italy a little boy whose name was
An-to'ni-o Ca-no'va. He lived with his grand-fa-ther, for his own
father was dead. His grand-fa-ther was a stone-cut-ter, and he was
very poor.
An-to-ni-o was a puny lad, and not strong enough to work. He did not
care to play with the other boys of the town. But he liked to go with
his grandfather to the stone-yard. While the old man was busy, cutting
and trimming the great blocks of stone, the lad would play among the
chips.
Pages:
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132