But the pig remained lifeless; only the fresh water spouted from its mouth. The little boy was still sitting astride it when he felt something tug at his trouser leg. He looked down and saw the clipped, naked, little Bellissima! The dog had crept out of the house and followed the boy without his noticing. Bellissima barked, as if trying to say, "What are you sitting up there for? Can't you see I'm with you?"
A fire-breathing dragon couldn't have frightened the boy more than the little dog at that spot. "Bellissima out in the streets and not dressed!" As the old lady would say, "What will come of that?"
For the dog never went out in the winter without a little sheepskin coat, especially cut and sewed for it. The skin could be fastened around the neck and body with a red ribbon and decorated with little red bows and jingling bells. When the dog went out in the winter, tripping along behind its mistress, it looked almost like a little kid. Now, here it was out in the cold without the coat - what would be the consequences? All his fancies quickly fled, yet he did stop to kiss the pig before climbing down and taking Bellissima in his arms. The dog shivered with cold, so the boy ran as fast as he could.
"What are you running away with there? demanded two gendarmes who stopped him, while Bellissima barked. "Where did you steal that beautiful dog?" they asked, as they took it away from him.
"Oh, please give her back to me!" cried the boy.
"If you didn't steal it, you can tell your people at home that they can get it at the police station." They gave him the address, and off they went with Bellissima.
This was a terrible state of affairs! He couldn't decide whether to jump into the Arno or go home and confess everything. They would surely kill him, he thought. "But I would gladly be killed; I will die, and then go to Jesus and the Madonna!" So he hurried home, almost hoping to be killed.
The door was locked; he couldn't reach the knocker, and there was no one in the street to help him. But a loose stone lay next to him, and picking it up, he hammered on the door with it. "Who's that?" said a voice from inside.
"It's I!" he said. "And Bellissima is lost! Let me in, and then kill me!"
This was frightening indeed, especially to his mistress, who was so fond of Bellissima. She quickly looked at the wall to see if the dog's coat hung in its place, and there the little sheepskin was.
"Bellissima at the police station!" she cried loudly. "You wicked child! Why did you take her out? She'll die of cold! That delicate little animal among all those big rough soldiers."
And Father Giuseppe had to rush off at once. His wife wailed, and the boy wept. Everyone in the house came to see what was going on, including the painter. He took the boy on his knee and questioned him, and gradually he learned the whole story of the metal pig and the picture gallery. It wasn't easy to understand, but the painter comforted the child and calmed the woman, though she wasn't happy until Giuseppe returned with Bellissima, who had been among the soldiers. Then there was great rejoicing, and the painter patted the poor boy on the head, and gave him some pictures.
Oh, these were splendid. There were comical heads, but most important of all, the metal pig himself! Nothing could have been more wonderful! It was sketched in only a few strokes, but even the house behind it appeared clearly.
"Oh, if I could only draw and paint! I'd have the whole world before me!"
The next day, in the first lonely moment he had, the little boy found a pencil and, on the white side of one of the pictures, tried to copy the drawing of the metal pig, and he succeeded! It was a little crooked, a little one-sided, with one leg thick and the other thin, but it was recognizable, and it delighted him. The pencil wouldn't go as straight as it should, he realized. Next day another pig stood beside the first one, and this was a hundred times better; and the third one was so good anyone could tell what it represented.
But the glovemaking went badly, and he ran errands slowly; for he had learned from the metal pig that any picture may be put on paper, and the city of Florence is a complete picture book, if you only turn the leaves.
In the Piazza della Trinità stands a slender column, and on top of it stands the blindfolded Goddess of Justice with the scales in her hand. Soon she also stood on paper, and it was the little apprentice glovemaker who put her there. His collection grew, though they were still only copies of inanimate objects; but one day Bellissima came bouncing toward him. "Stand still!" he said. "I'll make a beautiful portrait of you to have among my pictures!"
But Bellissima wouldn't stand still, so he had to tie her up. He tied her head and tail, and Bellissima barked and jumped about, straining at the cord. Then the signora came in.