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When [[strikethrough]] Bitsy [[/strikethrough]] he had gripped the hook firmly, the artist carefully handed him the picture.

"I know you will do you best," said the artist.

"Don't worry," cried Bitsy.

"Well, good luck, little wire. It's all up to you now." 

And patting [[strikethrough]] Bitsy [[/strikethrough]] him on the head the artist turned away. 

As he watched the artist leave the museum, Bitsy felt strong enough to hold a dozen pictures. It was a good feeling... to know that someone trusted him.

So, the night passed, and Bitsy had not been lonesome for one second. One is never lonesome with beautiful things around, he thought.

Early the next morning Bitsy heard the museum being opened. He could not see the doorway from his place behind the painting, but he knew that the judges must be coming.

"I wonder if I am holding the picture straight?" he thought. 

There was only one way to find out. 

He peeped from behind the frame and tried to twist his head around to see the picture. However, he was unable to see very much.

"Maybe, if I loosen my feet a bit," he said to himself. 

Just then he felt himself slip right off the hook. 

Down he fell. Down fell the picture. 

Bitsy landed on the top of a marble pedestal, but the painting slid to the floor. Quickly he knelt at the edge of the pedestal and looked down at the painting. It had not been damaged, but there was no way for him to reach it. He could have wept. He had failed the artist. 

There were seven judges in tail coats and tall hats coming into the museum. The biggest judge carried the shining gold medal on a satin pillow. That medal meant the Grand Prize. 

They started at the far end of the museum and looked through glasses at each painting and statue.

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