"I can see," decided Charles, "that his power lies in his magnetic voice, the voice that charmed us all in the old school-days."
Whatever was the source of his singular influence, hours passed as the visitors sat under the spell of Samuel's presence, and morning was stealing across the threshold when they rose from the table and took their departure.
Coleridge was the last to go, and when about to descend the stair, he again clasped the hand of his host with a warm and fervent pressure.
"I am fond of them all," he said slowly, indicating those whose footfalls still sounded in the passage below; "I am fond of them all: Southey, Wordsworth, Lovell, and the rest; but you, Charles Lamb, you are to me as though you had been born my younger brother."
THE LION THAT HELPED [CANOVA]
"Tonin, Tonin, come out with us to the River! Luigi has built a raft, and we're going to pole it down to the second bridge."
Five boys, bareheaded, barefooted, dirty-faced, and joyful, grouped themselves before a mud-walled Alpine cabin, the last of a quaint village row, while Pablo, their leader, hailed some one within.
Instantly there appeared in the doorway a boy of their own age, clad as roughly and lightly as themselves. His blouse was loosened comfortably at the throat, his trousers were rolled well above the knee, and over these cool garments he wore a hempen working-apron which was held in place by a stout cord attached to its upper corners and passing about his neck. In one hand he held a small steel hammer, in the other a chisel.