Up the Alpine road to the village of mud-walled cabins rode a man one day in autumn. His air was that of an experienced traveller, his dress rich but modest, his horse a spirited charger. At the entrance to the village, a turn in the road brought him face to face with a man in peasant attire who was walking in the opposite direction. The rider bent curiously, and gazed down at the passer-by with keenest interest; then bringing his horse sharply to a standstill, he cried,-- "Pablo! Don't you remember me?" The man by the way halted in surprise. For a moment he regarded the stranger blankly, then some memory out of his boyhood seemed to awaken, for suddenly he seized the horse's bridle with both hands, and shouted,-- "Tonin Canova! By all the fates and furies, you are the last man in the world I expected to see to-day!" "I knew you by your quick and springy step. I suppose you are still the leader of the town, Pablo, the foremost citizen of Passagno." A flush of pride crept into the peasant's cheek, but he merely waved his hand toward the extensive vineyard lying further down the slope. "That is mine. That's all." "And enough, too, old friend. Your purse must be ready to overflow, after a harvest from that fine vineyard." The peasant blushed again and nodded. Then half timidly he addressed the other,-- "I'm glad to see you again, signor--" The rider lifted his hand in rebuke. "Not _signor_ to me, Pablo! I am still your friend, and not in any wise changed from the lad who played with you in this very roadway." "But you have grown powerful and wealthy!" "Ye-es, but gold coins can never make me anything else than I was before." "But we have heard that the city of Venice gave you a pension for your whole life, because you had made such wonderful statues." "Yes, Venice has been good to me." "And that all the great people of Rome are friends with you." "True, but--" "That the Pope has written your name in the golden book of the capital." "So he did; still--" "That Napoleon of France invited you to his court, and that the German Emperor has even made you a knight." "Hark to me, Pablo!" and this time the rider's voice was commanding. "These things are indeed true, for people everywhere have shown me the rarest kindness; but while the palace doors of all Europe are open to me if I care to enter, and ladies and gentlemen of every nation pour their compliments and gold upon me, my heart has turned back to my native village and the dear simple friends of my childhood. I have left the great world for a time, and have come back to see the old faces; and Pablo, on that slope, near the little cottage,"--here his voice broke, as he pointed to the last of the mud-walled cabins,--"I have planned to build a church as beautiful as the Parthenon at Athens. If my good old neighbors cannot travel far enough to see the temples of the world, they shall have one near at hand, which will show them that Canova has not forgotten them."