The child is a healthy-looking little fellow, and the creases in neck and wrists show how plump he is. Yet there is a pathetic expression on the face which touches the heart. It is as if orphanage had laid its sorrowful impress upon him. A lonely look has crept into the eyes, and the mouth droops in a sad little curve. The boy is certainly no common child. His finely formed head promises a superior character. We are reminded of the Christ child, as many of the old masters have represented him. The body and legs are completely encased in swaddling bands, from which the head and arms emerge, like a blossom from its calyx. The custom of swathing babies with bandages is very ancient. We read in the gospel of St. Luke how the mother of Jesus wrapped her son in swaddling clothes as she laid him in the manger. The object was to prevent every possible injury or deformity to the growing limbs, and keep them straight. A child in swaddling clothes is naturally much more easily carried by the mother, and can more safely be left alone. This is doubtless the reason why the custom still prevails in many countries, and especially among the poorer people. There are still many nations which the progressive ideas of physical culture have not reached. The method of swaddling as now practised in Italy begins by folding the babe in a large square linen cloth. A second piece of linen is rolled around the body, which is then ready for the bandage. This bandage is about ten inches wide and over three yards long, and is rolled about the entire length of the child's figure, pinning the arms to the sides. The lower part of the linen cloth is turned up over the feet and tied with the ends of the bandage.[41] Judging from our picture, the process seems to have been about the same in the fifteenth century, except that the arms of our bambino are free. Certainly this fact makes the figure much more attractive as well as more decorative. The cloth about the child's body is brown and the bandage white. The sculptor of the bambini, Andrea della Robbia, was the nephew of Luca della Robbia, of whom we have learned something in previous chapters. He was trained in the workshop of his uncle, and in turn passed on his art to his three sons. While Luca's work is considered superior to that of any of his pupils, the nephew Andrea had some fine artistic qualities. The decorations of the Foundling Hospital illustrate both the delicacy and the fertility of his imagination. Only a genuine artist could invent so many variations upon the simple theme of a single baby figure. The entire series is like a musical composition based upon some simple but exquisite melody. [Footnote 38: Walter Pater.] [Footnote 39: Maurice Hewlett in _Earthwork out of Tuscany_.] [Footnote 40: Between 7000 and 8000, according to the Misses Horner's _Walks in Florence_, published in 1885.] [Footnote 41: Described in a little book called _Italian Child-Life_, by Marietta Ambrosi.] XI THE ANNUNCIATION