Antonio Canova. · page 21 2 3101He expected that the man would laugh at him; but al-though a jailer, he had a kind heart.102"Do you think that I would hurt your little plant?" he said. "103No, indeed!104It would have been dead long ago, if I had not seen that you thought so much of it."105"That is very good of you, indeed," said Char-ney.106He felt half ashamed at having thought the jailer unkind.107Every day he watched Pic-cio-la, as he had named the plant.108Every day it grew larger and more beautiful.109But once it was almost broken by the huge feet of the jailer's dog.110Charney's heart sank within him.111"Picciola must have a house," he said. "112I will see if I can make one."113So, though the nights were chilly, he took, day by day, some part of the firewood that was allowed him, and with this he built a little house around the plant.114The plant had a thousand pretty ways which he noticed.115He saw how it always bent a little toward the sun; he saw how the flowers folded their petals before a storm.116He had never thought of such things before, and yet he had often seen whole gardens of flowers in bloom.117One day, with soot and water he made some ink; he spread out his hand-ker-chief for paper; he used a sharp-ened stick for a pen--and all for what?118He felt that he must write down the doings of his little pet.119He spent all his time with the plant.checked by a teacher120"See my lord and my lady!" the jailer would say when he saw them.121As the summer passed by, Picciola grew more lovely every day.122There were no fewer than thirty blossoms on its stem.123But one sad morning it began to droop.124Charney did not know what to do.125He gave it water, but still it drooped.126The leaves were with-er-ing.127The stones of the prison yard would not let the plant live.128Charney knew that there was but one way to save his treasure.129Alas! how could he hope that it might be done?130The stones must be taken up at once.131But this was a thing which the jailer dared not do.132The rules of the prison were strict, and no stone must be moved.133Only the highest officers in the land could have such a thing done.134Poor Charney could not sleep.135Picciola must die.136Already the flowers had with-ered; the leaves would soon fall from the stem.137Then a new thought came to Charney.138He would ask the great Napoleon, the em-per-or himself, to save his plant.139It was a hard thing for Charney to do,--to ask a favor of the man whom he hated, the man who had shut him up in this very prison.140But for the sake of Picciola he would do it.141He wrote his little story on his hand-ker-chief.142Then he gave it into the care of a young girl, who promised to carry it to Napoleon.143Ah! if the poor plant would only live a few days longer!144What a long journey that was for the young girl!145What a long, dreary waiting it was for Charney and Picciola!146But at last news came to the prison.147The stones were to be taken up.148Picciola was saved!149The em-per-or's kind wife had heard the story of Charney's care for the plant.150She saw the handkerchief on which he had written of its pretty ways.151"Surely," she said, "it can do us no good to keep such a man in prison."152And so, at last, Charney was set free.153Of course he was no longer sad and un-lov-ing.154He saw how God had cared for him and the little plant, and how kind and true are the hearts of even rough men.155And he cher-ished Picciola as a dear, loved friend whom he could never forget.156MIGNON.157Here is the story of Mignon as I remember having read it in a famous old book.158A young man named Wil-helm was staying at an inn in the city.159One day as he was going up-stairs he met a little girl coming down.160He would have taken her for a boy, if it had not been for the long curls of black hair wound about her head.161As she ran by, he caught her in his arms and asked her to whom she belonged.162He felt sure that she must be one of the rope-dan-cers who had just come to the inn.163She gave him a sharp, dark look, slipped out of his arms, and ran away without speaking.164The next time he saw her, Wil-helm spoke to her again.165"Do not be afraid of me, little one," he said kindly. "166What is your name?"167"They call me Mignon," said the child.168"How old are you?" he asked.169"No one has counted," the child an-swered.170Wilhelm went on; but he could not help wondering about the child, and thinking of her dark eyes and strange ways.171One day not long after that, there was a great outcry among the crowd that was watching the rope-dan-cers.172Wilhelm went down to find out what was the matter.173He saw that the master of the dancers was beating little Mignon with a stick.174He ran and held the man by the collar.175"Let the child alone!" he cried. "176If you touch her again, one of us shall never leave this spot."177The man tried to get loose; but Wilhelm held him fast.178The child crept away, and hid herself in the crowd.179"Pay me what her clothes cost," cried the ropedancer at last, "and you may take her."180As soon as all was quiet, Wilhelm went to look for Mignon; for she now belonged to him.181But he could not find her, and it was not until the ropedancers had left the town that she came to him.182"Where have you been?" asked Wilhelm in his kindest tones; but the child did not speak.183"You are to live with me now, and you must be a good child," he said.184"I will try," said Mignon gently.185From that time she tried to do all that she could for Wilhelm and his friends.186She would let no one wait on him but herself.187She was often seen going to a basin of water to wash from her face the paint with which the ropedancers had red-dened her cheeks: indeed, she nearly rubbed off the skin in trying to wash away its fine brown tint, which she thought was some deep dye.188Mignon grew more lovely every day.189She never walked up and down the stairs, but jumped.190She would spring along by the railing, and before you knew it, would be sitting quietly above on the landing.191To each one she would speak in a different way.192To Wilhelm it was with her arms crossed upon her breast.checked by a teacher193Often for a whole day she would not say one word, and yet in waiting upon Wilhelm she never tired.194One night he came home very weary and sad.195Mignon was waiting for him.196She carried the light before him up-stairs.197She set the light down upon the table, and in a little while she asked him if she might dance.198"It might ease your heart a little," she said.199Wilhelm, to please her, told her that she might.200Then she brought a little carpet, and spread it upon the floor.1 2 3← previousV. the Fortune.↑ back to Fifty Famous Stories RetoldThis page in Markdown → https://md.mova.elamur.ai/free/en/corpora/tales/pg18442/54/page/2/