WITHOUT KNOWING IT, I WAS DOING WHAT LEONARDO ADVISES—NEW WAY OF DECORATING THE WALLS OF ONE'S HOUSE—I WISH TO STUDY DESIGN AT THE ACADEMY, BUT CANNOT CARRY THIS INTO EFFECT—A BOTTLE OF ANISE-SEED CORDIAL—INTELLIGENT PEOPLE ARE BENEVOLENT, NOT SO THOSE OF MEDIOCRE MINDS—THE STATUES IN THE PIAZZA DELLA SIGNORIA AND ALABASTER FIGURES—THE DISCOVERY OF A HIDDEN WELL—MY FATHER RETURNS HOME WITHOUT WORK, AND LEAVES FOR ROME—YOUNG SIGNOR EMILIO DEL TABRIS—SEA-BATHS AND CHOLERA AT LEGHORN—WITH HELP I SAVE A WOMAN FROM DROWNING—I GO TO SAN PIERO DI BAGNO—MY UNCLE THE PROVOST DIES—MY FATHER RETURNS FROM ROME, AND SETTLES IN FLORENCE—MY WORK, A GROUP OF A HOLY FAMILY, IS STOLEN—DESCRIPTION OF THIS GROUP.
How dear to me is the remembrance of those times! My goodwill and desire to learn were indeed above my very poor condition. The difficulties of my profession did not discourage me; on the contrary, I felt a pleasurable though distant hope of surpassing my companions in figure-work that they did so badly and laboriously. For this purpose, from that time I gave all my efforts to the study of the human figure. I bought an album and kept it always with me, begged my friends to stand as models, and drew their portraits. At first my attempts were not happy; but I was never tired, and after a time I acquired so much freedom that with a few strokes I could make a fair likeness. I was always at work, and the walls of our kitchen and dining-room were all smudged over with charcoal. Naturally, there was no one to scold me for this unusual way of adorning the walls, for the mother, poor dear, was blind, my father was not there, and as I was the eldest, I was, as it were, the head of the family. Besides, though my mother could not see, she still knew of this strange practice of mine, and thought it better for me thus to occupy myself than to be playing with the boys in the street.
LONGING TO BE AN ARTIST.
In the meantime, however, many doubts and self-questionings arose within me. I knew that there was a school where one could really learn to draw and paint and make statues. Heavens, how delightful it would be to know how to make statues! In fact, I understood there was the Academy of Fine Arts, for so I had been told, and some of the fortunate young men who frequented this Academy were my acquaintances, and had shown me their designs, which seemed to me, as my friend Dotti would say, most stupendous! I was no longer happy. The Academy appeared to me in the most splendid and glowing colours; it seemed to me the haven, the landmark, the temple of glory, the throne of my golden dreams.
I spoke of it to my mother with tears in my eyes. She mingled her tears with mine, but not, perhaps, so much from being persuaded of the necessity of such studies as from a desire to soothe me. She spoke about it to Signor Sani, who, I shall always remember, with his eyes fixed fiercely on me, made even more formidable under his silver spectacles, replied, that to do all that was to be done in his shop, it was enough to remain in the shop and have the wish to learn—of this he was certain; but as to the work in the Academy, he did not feel so sure, for, on the contrary, that would fill me with desires and cravings that I could not satisfy, owing to the poverty of my family, even admitting that I had the disposition to enable me to master these studies; and finally, he hinted at the danger there was of my being contaminated by my companions. My mother did not answer him. She said good-bye to me, and in her sightless eyes I saw the sadness within. She went out, and I set myself to work.
A FLASK OF ANISE-SEED.
I resigned myself, but continued always to study by myself. As Luigi, the master's eldest son, was studying design at Professor Gaspero Martellini's school, which was in the Fondacci di Santo Spirito, he gave me some of his designs to copy. Not only did Professor Martellini give him lessons in drawing, but also in modelling in clay, and Sani was one of the most assiduous of his scholars. I remember to have pounded his clay for him many times, in a room on the ground-floor in his house in Borgo Sant' Jacopo. This little room was used as a storehouse for all sorts of odds and ends, and amongst these I once found a flask of anise-seed cordial, that (to confess the truth) I tasted sometimes. One morning, having finished what I had to do, and having gone up-stairs to take the key of the room, one of the master's daughters (he had four) smelt in my breath the odour of anise-seed, and said to me—
"Who has given you anise-seed?"
"No one," I answered.