"Not the Delia Robbia who did the Singing Boys we have on the wall at school!"
"The very same. He made great blue and white enameled tiles for wall decoration too; figures of babies and children, as well as whole altars fashioned entirely from this beautiful enamel. Whether he used a plumbiferous, or lead glaze; or a stanniferous, or tin glaze, we do not know. Probably it was of tin. But the important fact is that he got a fine durable surface, very shiny and very hard, which wrought a revolution in pottery-making. If you visit Florence some time you can still see set in the walls of some of the public buildings the identical enameled terra cottas made by Luca della Robbia."
"I'd like to see them."
"Then tell your dad to take you to Italy after this war is over. We will pray that Germany may spare these art works of the world."
Mr. Croyden did not speak for a moment; then he said:
"And while you are remembering so many things remember in addition that the word glaze comes from the term glassing or glazing, which means putting a coating of glass over the surface. Of course the covering is not really glass, but it is hard and shiny, and so people used to think it was. Some day I will tell you more about the different kinds of glazes."
"So it was the Italians who gave Europe its glazed pottery and porcelain," remarked Theo.
"Not alone the Italians," protested Mr. Croyden, "although they helped. Somebody else had a share in the discovery—somebody very far away from Italy. It was the knowledge of the Italians combined with the skill of this other distant nation that gave to Europe the perfect product."
"What nation was that?" demanded Theo.