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diff --git a/old/50495-8.txt b/old/50495-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 91daa9d..0000000 --- a/old/50495-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6166 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Bohemian Paris of Today, by -W. C. Morrow and Edouard Cucuel - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Bohemian Paris of Today - Second Edition - -Author: W. C. Morrow - Edouard Cucuel - -Illustrator: Edouard Cucuel - -Release Date: November 19, 2015 [EBook #50495] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOHEMIAN PARIS OF TODAY *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - - - -BOHEMIAN PARIS OF TO-DAY - -By W. C. Morrow - -From Notes By Edouard Cucuel - -Illustrated By Edouard Cucuel - -Second Edition - -Philadelphia & London J. B. Lippincott Company 1900 - -[Illustration: 0001] - -[Illustration: 0008] - -[Illustration: 0009] - - - - -INTRODUCTION - - -THIS volume is written to show the life of the students in the Paris of -to-day. It has an additional interest in opening to inspection certain -phases of Bohemian life in Paris that are shared both by the students -and the public, but that are generally unfamiliar to visitors to that -wonderful city, and even to a very large part of the city's population -itself. It depicts the under-side of such life as the students -find,--the loose, unconventional life of the humbler strugglers in -literature and art, with no attempt to spare its salient features, its -poverty and picturesqueness, and its lack of adherence to generally -accepted standards of morals and conduct. - -As is told in the article describing that incomparably brilliant -spectacle, the ball of the Four Arts, extreme care is taken to exclude -the public and admit only artists and students, all of whom must be -properly accredited and fully identified. It is well understood that -such a spectacle would not be suitable for any but artists and students. -It is given solely for their benefit, and with the high aim, fully -justified by the experience of the masters who direct the students, -that the event, with its marvellous brilliancy, its splendid artistic -effects, and its freedom and abandon, has a stimulating and broadening -effect of the greatest value to art. The artists and students see in -these annual spectacles only grace, beauty, and majesty; their training -in the studios, where they learn to regard models merely as tools of -their craft, fits them, and them alone, for the wholesome enjoyment of -the great ball. - -It is a student that presents the insight which this volume gives into -the life of the students and other Bohemians of Paris. It is set forth -with the frankness of a student. Coming from such a source, and having -such treatment, it will have a special charm and value for the wise. - -The students are the pets of Paris. They lend to the city a -picturesqueness that no other city enjoys. So long as they avoid riots -aimed at a government that may now and then offend their sense of -right, their ways of living, their escapades, their noisy and joyous -manifestations of healthy young animal life, are good-naturedly -overlooked. Underneath such a life there lies, concealed from casual -view, another life that they lead,--one of hard work, of hope, of -aspiration, and often of pinching poverty and cruel self-denial. The -stress upon them, of many kinds, is great. The utter absence of an -effort to reorganize their lives upon conventional lines is from a -philosophical belief that if they fail to pass unscathed through it all, -they lack the fine, strong metal from which worthy artists are made. - -The stranger in Paris will here find opened to him places in which he -may study for himself the Bohemian life of the city in all its careless -disregard of conventions. The cafés, cabarets, and dance-halls herein -described and illustrated have a charm that wholesome, well-balanced -minds will enjoy. The drawings for the illustrations were all made -from the actual scenes that they depict; they partake of the engaging -frankness of the text and of its purpose to show Bohemian life in the -Paris of to-day without any effort at concealment. - -W. C. M. - - - - -BOHEMIAN PARIS - - - - -OUR STUDIO - -WE were in wonderful Paris at last--Bishop and I--after a memorable -passage full of interest from New York to Havre. Years of hard work were -ahead of us, for Bishop would be an artist and I a sculptor. - -[Illustration: 8023] - -For two weeks we had been lodging temporarily in the top of a -comfortable little hotel, called the Grand something (most of the -Parisian hotels are Grand), the window of which commanded a superb view -of the great city, the vaudeville playhouse of the world. - -_Pour la première fois_ the dazzle and glitter had burst upon us, -confusing first, but now assuming form and coherence. If we and -incomprehensible at could have had each a dozen eyes instead of two, or -less greed to see and more patience to learn! - -Day by day we had put off the inevitable evil of finding a studio. -Every night found us in the cheapest seats of some theatre, and often we -lolled on the terraces of the Café de la Paix, watching the pretty girls -as they passed, their silken skirts saucily pulled up, revealing dainty -laces and ankles. From the slippery floor of the Louvre galleries we had -studied the masterpieces of David, Rubens, Rembrandt, and the rest; had -visited the Panthéon, the Musée Cluny; had climbed the Eiffel Tower, -and traversed the Bois de Boulogne and the Champs-Elysées. Then came the -search for a studio and the settling to work. It would be famous to have -a little home of our very own, where we could have little dinners of our -very own cooking! - -It is with a shudder that I recall those eleven days of ceaseless -studio-hunting. We dragged ourselves through miles of Quartier Latin -streets, and up hundreds of flights of polished waxed stairs, behind -puffing concierges in carpet slippers, the puffing changing to -grumbling, as, dissatisfied, the concierges followed us down the stairs. -The Quartier abounds with placards reading, "_Atelier d'Artiste à -Louer!_" The rentals ranged from two hundred to two thousand francs -a year, and the sizes from cigar-boxes to barns. But there was always -something lacking. On the eleventh day we found a suitable place on the -sixth (top) floor of a quaint old house in a passage off the _Rue St.- -André-des-Arts_. There were overhead and side lights, and from the -window a noble view of Paris over the house-tops. - -[Illustration: 0023] - -A room of fair size joined the studio, and from its vine-laced window we -could look into the houses across the court, and down to the bottom of -the court as well. The studio walls were delightfully dirty and low in -tone, and were covered with sketches and cartoons in oil and charcoal. -The price was eight hundred francs a year, and from the concierge's -eloquent catalogue of its charms it seemed a great bargain. The walls -settled our fate,--we took the studio. - -It was one thing to agree on the price and another to settle the -details. Our French was ailing, and the concierge's French -was--concierges' French. Bishop found that his pet theory that French -should be spoken with the hands, head, and shoulders carried weak spots -which a concierge could discover; and then, being somewhat mercurial, he -began floundering in a mixture of French and English words and French -and American gestures, ending in despair with the observation that the -concierge was a d------ fool. At the end of an hour we had learned that -we must sign an iron-bound, government-stamped contract, agreeing to -occupy the studio for not less than one year, to give six months' notice -of our leaving, and to pay three months' rental in advance, besides the -taxes for one year on all the doors and windows, and ten francs or more -to the concierge. This was all finally settled. - -As there was no running water in the rooms (such a luxury being unknown -here), we had to supply our needs from a clumsy old iron pump in the -court, and employ six flights of stairs in the process. - -Then the studio had to be furnished, and there came endless battles -with the furniture dealers in the neighborhood, who kept their stock -replenished from the goods of bankrupt artists and suspended ménages. - -[Illustration: 0025] - -These _marchands de meubles_ are a wily race, but Bishop pursued a plan -in dealing with them that worked admirably. He would enter a shop and -price an article that we wanted, and then throw up his hands in horror -and leave the place as though it were haunted with a plague. The dealer -would always come tumbling after him and offer him the article for a -half or a third of the former price. In this way Bishop bought chairs, -tables, a large easel, beds, a studio stove, book-shelves, linen, -drapings, water pitchers and buckets, dishes, cooking utensils, and -many other things, the cost of the whole being less than one hundred and -fifty francs,--and thus we were established. The studio became quite a -snug and hospitable retreat, in spite of the alarming arrangement that -Bishop adopted, "to help the composition of the room." His favorite -cast, the Unknown Woman, occupied the place of honor over his couch, -where he could see it the first thing in the morning, when the dawn, -stealing through the skylight, brought out those strange and subtle -features which he swore inspired him from day to day. My room was filled -with brilliant posters by Chéret and Mucha and Steinlen,--they were too -bold and showy for the low tone of Bishop's studio. It all made a pretty -picture,--the dizzy posters, the solemn trunks, the books, the bed with -its gaudy print coverings, and the little crooked-pane window hung -with bright green vines that ran thither from a box in the window of -an adjoining apartment. And it was all completed by the bright faces -of three pretty seamstresses, who sat sewing every day at their window -across the passage. - -Under our housekeeping agreement Bishop was made cook, and I chambermaid -and water-carrier. It was Bishop's duty to obey the alarm clock at six -every morning and light the fire, while I went down for water at the -pump, and for milk at the stand beside the court entrance, where fat -Madame Gioté sold _café-au-lait_ and _lait froid ou chaud_, from a -_sou_'s worth up. Then, after breakfast, I did the chamber work while -Bishop washed the dishes. Bishop could make for breakfast the most -delicious coffee and flapjacks and omelette in the whole of Paris. By -eight o'clock all was in order; Bishop was smoking his pipe and singing -"Down on the Farm" while working on his life study, and I was off to my -modelling in clay. - -Bishop soon had the hearts of all the shop-keepers in the neighborhood. -The baker's dimple-cheeked daughter never worried if the scales hung a -little in his favor, at the boucherie he was served with the choicest -cuts of meat, and the fried-potato women called him "_mon fils_" -and fried a fresh lot of potatoes for him. Even Madame Tonneau, the -_marchande de tabac_, saw that he had the freshest packages in the shop. -Often, when I was returning home at night, I encountered him making -cheerily for the studio, bearing bread by the yard, his pockets bulging -with other material for dinner. Ah, he was a wonderful cook, and we had -marvellous appetites! So famous did he soon become that the models (the -lady ones, of course) were eager to dine _avec nous_; and when they did -they helped to set the table, they sewed buttons on our clothes, and -they made themselves agreeable and perfectly at home with that charming -grace which is so peculiarly French. Ah, those were jolly times! - -The court, or, more properly, _le passage_, on which our window looked -was a narrow little thoroughfare leading from the Rue St.-André-des-Arts -to the Boulevard St.-Germain. It bore little traffic, but was a busy -way withal. It had iron-workers' shops, where hot iron was beaten -into artistic lamps, grills, and bed-frames; a tinsmith's shop; a -blanchisserie, where our shirts were made white and smooth by the pretty -blanchisseuses singing all day over their work; a wine-cellar, whose -barrels were eternally blocking one end of the passage; an embossed -picture-card factory, where twoscore women, with little hammers and -steel dies, beat pictures into cards; a furniture shop, where everything -old and artistic was sold, the Hôtel du Passage, and a bookbinder's -shop. - -Each of the eight buildings facing the passage was ruled by a formidable -concierge, who had her dark little living apartments near the entrances. -These are the despots of the court, and their function is to make life -miserable for their lodgers. When they are not doing that they are -eternally scrubbing and polishing. They are all married. M. Mayé, _le -mari de notre concierge_, is a tailor. He sits at the window and mends -and sews all day long, or acts as concierge when his wife is away. The -husband of the concierge next door is a sergeant de ville at night, but -in the early mornings as, in a soiled blouse, he empties ash-cans, he -looks very unlike the personage dressed at night in a neat blue -uniform and wearing a short sword Another concierge's husband _fait des -courses_--runs errands--for sufficient pay. - -[Illustration: 9030] - -Should you fail to clean your boots on the mat, and thus soil the glossy -stairs, have a care!--a concierge's tongue has inherited the warlike -characteristics of the Caesars. Rugs and carpets must not be shaken out -of the windows after nine o'clock. Ashes and other refuse must be thrown -into the big bin of the house not later than seven. Sharp at eleven in -the evening the lights are extinguished and the doors locked for the -night; and then all revelry must immediately cease. Should you arrive -_en retard_,--that is, after eleven,--you must ring the bell violently -until the despot, generally after listening for an hour to the bell, -unlocks the catch from her couch. Then when you close the door and pass -her lodge you must call out your name. If you are out often or till very -late, be prepared for a lecture on the crime of breaking the rest of -hard-working concierges. After the day's work the concierges draw their -chairs out into the court and gossip about their tenants. The nearer the -roof the lodger the less the respect he commands. Would he not live on a -lower floor if he were able? And then, the top floor gives small tips! - -It is noticeable that the entresol and premiers étages are clean and -highly polished, and that the cleanliness and polish diminish steadily -toward the top, where they almost disappear. Ah, _les concierges!_ But -what would Paris be without them? - -Directly beneath us an elderly couple have apartments. Every morning at -five the old gentleman starts French oaths rattling through the court by -beating his rugs out of his window. At six he rouses the ire of a widow -below him by watering his plants and incidentally drenching her bird- -cages. Not long ago she rose in violent rebellion, and he hurled a -flower pot at her protruding head. It smashed on her window-sill; she -screamed "Murder!" and the whole court was in an uproar. The concierges -and the old gentleman's pacific wife finally restored order--till the -next morning. - -Next, to my room are an elderly lady and her sweet, sad-faced daughter. -They are very quiet and dignified, and rarely fraternize with their -neighbors. It is their vine that creeps over to my window, and it is -carefully tended by the daughter. And all the doves and sparrows of the -court come regularly to eat out of her hand, and a lively chatter they -have over it. The ladies are the widow and daughter of a once prosperous -stock-broker on the Bourse, whom an unlucky turn of the wheel drove to -poverty and suicide. - -The three seamstresses over the way are the sunshine of the court. They -are not so busy sewing and singing but that they find time to send arch -glances toward our window, and their blushes and smiles when Bishop -sends them sketches of them that he has made from memory are more than -remunerative. - -A young Scotch student from Glasgow, named Cameron, has a studio -adjoining ours. He is a fine, jovial fellow, and we usually assist him -to dispose of his excellent brew of tea at five o'clock. Every Thursday -evening there was given a musical chez lui, in which Bishop and I -assisted with mandolin and guitar, while Cameron played the flute. -For these occasions Cameron donned his breeks and kilt, and danced the -sword-dance round two table-knives crossed. The American songs strike -him as being strange and incomprehensible. He cannot understand the -negro dialect, and wonders if America is filled with negroes and cotton -plantations; but he is always delighted with Bishop's "Down on the -Farm." - -[Illustration: 0033] - -Life begins at five o'clock in our court. The old gentleman beats his -rugs, the milk-bottles rattle, the bread-carts rumble, Madame Gioté -opens her milkstand, and the concierges drag the ash-cans out into the -court, where a drove of rag-pickers fall upon them. These gleaners are -a queer lot. Individuals and families pursue the quest, each with a -distinct purpose. One will seek nothing but bones, glass, and crockery; -another sifts the ashes for coal; another takes only paper and rags; -another old shoes and hats; and so on, from can to can, none interfering -with any of the others. The dogs are the first at the bins. They are -regularly organized in working squads, travelling in fours and fives. -They are quite adept at digging through the refuse for food, and they -rarely quarrel; and they never leave one bin for another until they have -searched it thoroughly. - -The swish of water and a coarse brush broom announces the big, strong -woman who sweeps the gutters of the Rue St.-André-des-Arts. With broad -sweeps of the broom she spreads the water over half the street and back -into the gutter, making the worn yellow stones shine. She is coarsely -clad and wears black sabots; and God knows how she can swear when the -gleaners scatter the refuse into the gutter! - -The long wail of the fish-and-mussel woman, "_J'ai des beaux maquereaux, -des moules, poissons à frire, à frire!_" as she pushes her cart, means -seven o'clock. - -The day now really begins. Water-pails are clanging and sabots are -clicking on the stones. The wine people set up a rumble by cleaning -their casks with chains and water. The anvils of the iron-workers are -ringing, and there comes the tink-tink-tink of the little hammers in -the embossed-picture factory. The lumbering garbage-cart arrives to bear -away the ash-bins, the lead-horse shaking his head to ring the bell on -his neck in announcement of the approach. Street-venders and hawkers of -various comestibles, each with his or her quaint musical cry, come in -numbers. "_J'ai des beaux choux-fleurs! O, comme ils sont beaux!_" The -fruit- and potato-women come after, and then the chair-menders. These -market-women are early risers. They are at the great Halles Centrales -at four o'clock to bargain for their wares; and besides good lungs -they have a marvellous shrewdness, born of long dealings with French -housewives. - -Always near eight may be heard, "_Du mouron pour les petits oiseaux!_" -and all the birds in the court, familiar with the cry, pipe up for their -chickweed. "_Voilà le bon fromage à la crème pour trois sous!_" cries -a keen-faced little woman, her three-wheeled cart loaded with cream -cheeses; and she gives a soup-plate full of them, with cream poured -generously over, and as she pockets the money says, "_Voilà! ce que -c'est bon avec des confitures!_" Cream cheeses and prayer! On Sunday -mornings during the spring and summer the goat's-milk vender, blowing -a reed-pipe, invades the passage with his living milk-cans,--a flock of -eight hairy goats that know the route as well as he, and they are always -willing to be milked when a customer offers a bowl. The tripe-man with -his wares and bell is the last of the food-sellers of the day. The -window-glass repairer, "_Vitrier!_" passes at nine, and then the -beggars and strolling musicians and singers put in an appearance. In -the afternoon the old-clo' man comes hobbling under his load of cast-off -clothes, crying, "_Marchand d'habits!_" of which you can catch only -"'_Chand d'habits!_" and the barrel-buyer, "Marchand de tonneaux!" The -most musical of them all is the porcelain-mender, who cries, "_Voici le -raccommodeur de porcelaines, faïence, cristal, poseur de robinets!_" and -then plays a fragment of a hunting-song. - -[Illustration: 0037] - -The beggars and musicians also have regular routes and fixed hours. Cold -and stormy days are welcomed by them, for then pity lends activity to- -sous. A piratical old beggar has his stand near the entrance to the -court, where he kneels on the stones, his faithful mongrel dog beside -him. He occasionally poses for the artists when times are dull, but he -prefers begging,--it is easier and more remunerative. Three times a week -we are treated to some really good singing by a blind old man, evidently -an artist in his day. When the familiar sound of his guitar is heard -all noises in the passage cease, and all windows are opened to hear. -He sings arias from the operas. His little old wife gathers up the sous -that ring on the flags. Sometimes a strolling troupe of two actors and -three musicians makes its appearance, and invariably plays to a full -house. There are droves of sham singers who do not sing at all, but -give mournful howls and tell their woes to deaf windows. One of them, a -tattered woman with two babies, refused to pose for Bishop, although he -offered her five francs for the afternoon. - -Her babies never grow older or bigger as the years pass. - -We all know when anybody in the passage is going to take a bath. There -are no bath-tubs in these old houses, but that difficulty is surmounted -by a bathing establishment on the Boulevard St.-Michel. It sends around -a cart bearing a tank of hot water and a zinc tub. The man who pulls the -cart carries the tub to the room, and fills it by carrying up the water -in buckets. Then he remains below until the bath is finished, to regain -his tub and collect a franc. - -Since we have been here the court entrance has been once draped in -mourning. At the head of the casket of old Madame Courtoise, who lived -across the way, stood a stately crucifix, and candles burned, and there -were mourners and yellow bead wreaths. A quiet sadness sat upon the -court, and the people spoke in whispers only. - -And there have been two weddings,--one at the blanchisserie, where the -master's daughter was married to a young mechanic from the iron shop. -There were glorious times at the laundry that night, for the whole court -was present. It was four in the morning when the party broke up, and -then our shirts were two days late. - -Thus ran the first months of the four years of our student life in -Paris; in its domestic aspects it was typical of all that followed. We -soon became members of the American Art Association, and gradually made -friends in charming French homes. Then there was the strange Bohemian -life lying outside as well as within the students' pale, and into -the spirit of it all we found our way. It is to the Bohemian, not -the social, life of Paris that these papers are devoted--a life -both picturesque and pathetic, filled with the oddest contrasts and -incongruities, with much suffering but more content, and spectacular -and fascinating in all its phases. No one can have seen and known -Paris without a study of this its living, struggling artistic side, -so strange, so remote from the commonplace world surging and roaring -unheeded about it. - -On New Year's Day we had an overwhelming number of callers. First came -the concierge, who cleaned our door-knob and wished us a prosperous and -bonne année. She got ten francs,--we did not know what was coming. The -chic little blanchisseuse called next with our linen. That meant two -francs. Then came in succession two telegraph boys, the facteur, or -postman, who presented us with a cheap calendar, and another postman, -who delivers only second-class mail. They got a franc each. Then the -_marchand de charbon_'s boy called with a clean face and received fifty -centimes, and everybody else with whom we had had dealings; and our -offerings had a steadily diminishing value. - -We could well bear all this, however, in view of the great day, but a -week old, when we had celebrated Christmas. Bishop prepared a dinner -fit for a king, giving the greater part of his time for a week to -preparations for the great event. Besides a great many French dishes, we -had turkey and goose, cooked for us at the rôtisserie near by, and soup, -oysters, American pastries, and a big, blazing plum-pudding. We and our -guests (there were eight in all) donned full dress for the occasion, -and a bonne, hired for the evening, brought on the surprises one after -another. But why should not it have been a glorious evening high up -among the chimney-pots of old Paris? for did we not drink to the loved -ones in a distant land, and were not our guests the prettiest among the -pretty toilers of our court? - -[Illustration: 0042] - - - - -THE ÉCOLE DES BEAUX-ARTS - - -IT is about the fifteenth of October, after the long summer vacation, -that the doors of the great École des Beaux-Arts are thrown open. - -[Illustration: 0043] - -The first week, called "_la semaine des nouveaux_," is devoted to the -initiation and hazing of the new students, who come mostly from foreign -countries and the French provinces. These festivities can never be -forgotten--by the _nouveaux_. - -[Illustration: 0044] - -Bishop had condescendingly decided to become _un élève de Gérôme_--with -some misgivings, for Bishop had developed ideas of a large and free -American art, while Gérôme was hard and academic. One day he gathered -up some of his best drawings and studies (which he regarded as -masterpieces) and, climbing to the impériale of a Clichy 'bus, rode -over to Montmartre, where Gérôme had his private studio. He was politely -ushered in by a manservant, and conducted to the door of the master's -studio through a hall and gallery filled with wonderful marble groups. -Gérôme himself opened the door, and Bishop found himself in the great -man's workshop. For a moment Bishop stood dazed in the middle of the -splendid room, with its great sculptures and paintings, some still -unfinished, and a famous collection of barbaric arms and costumes. A -beautiful model was posing upon a rug. But most impressive of all was -the white-haired master, regarding him with a thoughtful and searching, -but kindly, glance. Bishop presently found a tongue with which to -stammer out his mission,--he would be a pupil of the great Gérôme. - -The old man smiled, and, bidding his model retire, inspected carefully -the array of drawings that Bishop spread at his feet,--Gérôme must -have evidence of some ability for the magic of his brain and touch to -develop. - -"_Sont pas mal, mon ami_," he said, after he had studied all the -drawings; "_non, pas mal_." Bishop's heart bounded,--his work was not -bad! "_Vous êtes Américain?_" continued the master. "_C'est un pays que -j'aimerais bien visiter si le temps ne me manquait pas_." - -Thus he chatted on, putting Bishop more and more at his ease. He talked -of America and the promising future that she has for art; then he went -into his little office, and, asking Bishop's name, filled out the blank -that made him a happy pupil of Gérôme. He handed it to Bishop with this -parting-advice, spoken with great earnestness: - -"_Il faut travailler, mon ami--travailler! Pour arriver, travailler -toujours, sérieusement, bien entendu!_" - -Bishop was so proud and happy that he ran all the way up the six flights -of stairs to our floor, burst into the studio, and executed a war-dance -that would have shamed an Apache, stepping into his paint-box and nearly -destroying his sacred Unknown. That night we had a glorious supper, with -des escargots to start with. - -Early on the fifteenth of October, with his head erect and hope filling -his soul, Bishop started for the Beaux-Arts, which was in the Rue -Bonaparte, quite near. That night he returned wise and saddened. - -He had bought a new easel and two rush-bottomed tabourets, which every -new student must provide, and, loaded with these, he made for the Ecole. -Gathered at the big gates was a great crowd of models of all sorts, men, -women, and children, fat, lean, and of all possible sizes. In the court- -yard, behind the gates, was a mob of long-haired students, who had a -year or more ago passed the initiatory ordeal and become ancients. Their -business now was to yell chaff at the arriving nouveaux. The concierge -conducted Bishop up-stairs to the Administration, where he joined a -long line of other nouveaux waiting for the opening of the office at ten -o'clock. - -Then he produced his papers and was enrolled as a student of the Ecole. - -It is only in this government school of the four arts that the typical -Bohemian students of Paris may be found, including the genuine type -of French student, with his long hair, his whiskers, his Latin Quarter -"plug" hat, his cape, blouse, wide corduroy trousers, sash, expansive -necktie, and immense cane. The Ecole preserves this type more -effectually than the other schools, such as Julian's and Colarossi's, -where most of the students are foreigners in conventional dress. - -Among the others who entered Gérôme's atelier at the same time that -Bishop did was a Turk named Haidor (fresh from the Ottoman capital), a -Hungarian, a Siamese, an American from the plains of Nebraska, and five -Frenchmen from the provinces. - -They all tried to speak French and be agreeable as they entered the -atelier together. At the door stood a gardien, whose principal business -is to mark absentees and suppress riots. Then they passed to the gentle -mercies of the reception committee and the _massier_ within. - -The _massier_ is a student who manages the studio, models, and _masse_ -money. This one, a large fellow with golden whiskers (size and strength -are valuable elements of the massier's efficiency), demanded twenty-five -francs from each of the new-comers,--this being the _masse_ money, to -pay for fixtures, turpentine, soap, and clean towels, _et pour payer -à boire_. The Turk refused to pay, protesting that he had but thirty -francs to last him the month; but menacing stools and sticks opened -his purse; his punishment was to come later. After the money had -been collected from all the nouveaux the entire atelier of over sixty -students, dressed in working blouses and old coats, formed in line, and -with deafening shouts of "_A boire! à boire!_" placed the _nouveaux_ -in front to carry the class banner, and thus marched out into the _Rue -Bonaparte_ to the _Café des Deux Magots_, singing songs fit only for -the studio. Their singing, shouting, and ridiculous capers drew a great -crowd. At the café they created consternation with their shouting -and howling until the arrival of great bowls of "_grog Américain_," -cigarettes, and _gâteaux_. Rousing cheers were given to a marriage-party -across the Place St.-Germain. The Turk was forced to do a Turkish dance -on a table and sing Turkish songs, and to submit to merciless ridicule. -The timid little Siamese also had to do a turn, as did Bishop and -W------, the American from Nebraska, who had been a cowboy at home. -After yelling themselves hoarse and nearly wrecking the café, the -students marched back in a disorderly mob to the Ecole. Then the real -trouble began. - -The gardien having conveniently disappeared, the students closed -and barricaded the door. "_A poil! à poil!_" they yelled, dancing -frantically about the frightened nouveaux; "_à poil les sales nouveaux! -à poil!_" They seized the Turk and stripped him, despite his desperate -resistance; then they tied his hands behind him and with paint and -brushes decorated his body in the most fantastic designs that they could -conceive. His oaths were frightful. He cursed them in the name of Allah, -and swore to have the blood of all Frenchmen for desecrating the sacred -person of a Moslem. He called them dogs of infidels and Christians. But -all this was in Turkish, and the students enjoyed it immensely. "_En -broche!_" they yelled, after they had made him a spectacle with the -brushes; "_en broche! Il faut le mettre en broche!_" This was quickly -done. They forced the Turk to his haunches, bound his wrists in front of -his upraised knees, thrust a long pole between his elbows and knees, -and thus bore him round the atelier at the head of a singing procession. -Four times they went round; then they placed the helpless M. Haidor on -the model-stand for future reference. The bad French that the victim -occasionally mixed with his tirade indicated the fearful damnation that -he was doubtless dealing out in Turkish. - -A circle was then formed about him, and a solemn silence fell upon the -crowd. A Frenchman named Joncierge, head of the reception committee, -stepped forth, and in slow and impressive speech announced that it was -one of the requirements of the Atelier Gérôme to brand all nouveaux over -the heart with the name of the atelier, and that the branding of the -Turk would now proceed. Upon hearing this, M. Haidor emitted a fearful -howl. But he was turned to face the red-hot studio stove and watch -the branding-iron slowly redden in the coals. During this interval the -students sang the national song, and followed it with a funeral march. -Behind the Turk's back a second poker was being painted to resemble a -red-hot one. - -The hot poker was taken from the fire, and its usefulness tested by -burning a string with it. Haidor grew deathly pale. An intense silence -sat upon the atelier as the iron was brought near the helpless young -man. In a moment, with wonderful cleverness, the painted poker was -substituted for the hot one and placed quickly against his breast. When -the cold iron touched him he roared like a maddened bull, and rolled -quivering and moaning upon the floor. The students were frantic with -delight. - -It was some time before Haidor could realize that he was not burned to -a crisp. He was then taken across the atelier and hoisted to a narrow -shelf fifteen feet from the floor, where he was left to compose himself -and enjoy the tortures of the other nouveaux. He dared not move, -however, lest he fall; and because he refused to take anything in good- -nature, but glared hatred and vengeance down at them, they pelted him at -intervals with water-soaked sponges. - -The Hungarian and one of the French nouveaux were next seized and -stripped. Then they were ordered to fight a duel, in this fashion: they -were made to mount two stools about four feet apart. The Hungarian was -handed a long paint-brush dripping with Prussian blue, and the Frenchman -a similar brush soaked with crimson lake. Then the battle began. Each -hesitated to splash the other at first, but as they warmed to their work -under the shouting of the committee they went in with a will. When the -Frenchman had received a broad splash on the mouth in return for a chest -decoration of his adversary, his blood rose, and then the serious work -began. - -[Illustration: 0051] - -Both quickly lost their temper. When they were unwillingly made to -desist the product of their labors was startling, though not beautiful. -Then they were rubbed down vigorously with turpentine and soiled towels, -and were given a franc each for a bath, because they had behaved so -handsomely. - -Bishop came next. He had made up his mind to stand the initiation -philosophically, whatever it might be, but when he was ordered to strip -he became apprehensive and then angry. Nothing so delights the students -as for a _nouveau_ to lose his temper. Bishop squared off to face the -whole atelier, and looked ugly. The students silently deployed on three -sides, and with a yell rushed in, but not before three of them had gone -down under his fists did they pin him to the floor and strip him. While -Bishop was thus being prepared, the Nebraskan was being dealt with. He -had the wisdom not to lose his temper, and that made his resistance -all the more formidable. Laughing all the time, he nevertheless dodged, -tripped, wrestled, threw stools, and did so many other astonishing and -baffling things that the students, though able to have conquered him -in the end, were glad to make terms with him. In this arrangement he -compelled them to include Bishop. As a result, those two mounted the -model throne naked, and sang together and danced a jig, all so cleverly -that the Frenchmen were frantic with delight, and welcomed them as _des -bons amis_. The amazing readiness and capability of the American fist -bring endless delight and perennial surprise to the French. - -[Illustration: 0053] - -The rest of the nouveaux were variously treated. Some, after being -stripped, were grotesquely decorated with designs and pictures not -suitable for general inspection. Others were made to sing, to recite, or -to act scenes from familiar plays, or, in default of that, to improvise -scenes, some of which were exceedingly funny. Others, attached to a rope -depending from the ceiling, were swung at a perilous rate across the -atelier, dodging easels in their flight. - -At half-past twelve the sport was over. The barricade was removed, -the Turk's clothes hidden, the Turk left howling on his shelf, and the -atelier abandoned. The next morning there was trouble. The director was -furious, and threatened to close the atelier for a month, because the -Turk had not been discovered until five o'clock, when his hoarse howls -attracted the attention of the gardien of the fires. His trousers and -one shoe could not be found. It was three months before Haidor appeared -at the atelier again, and then everything had been forgotten. - -Bishop was made miserable during the ensuing week. He would find himself -roasting over paper fires kindled under his stool. Paint was smeared -upon his easel to stain his hands. His painting was altered and entirely -re-designed in his absence. Strong-smelling cheeses were placed in the -lining of his "plug" hat. His stool-legs were so loosened that when -he sat down he struck the floor with a crash. His painting-blouse was -richly decorated inside and out with shocking coats of arms that would -not wash out. One day he discovered that he had been painting for a -whole hour with currant jelly from a tube that he thought contained -laque. - -Then, being a _nouveau_, he could never get a good position in which to -draw from the model. Every Monday morning a new model is posed for the -week, and the students select places according to the length of time -they have been attending. The nouveaux have to take what is left. And -they must be servants to the ancients,--run out for tobacco, get soap -and clean towels, clean paint-brushes, and keep the studio in order. -With the sculptors and architects it is worse. The sculptors must sweep -the dirty, clay-grimed floor regularly, fetch clean water, mix the clay -and keep it fresh and moist, and on Saturdays, when the week's work is -finished, must break up the forty or more clay figures, and restore -them to clay for next week's operations. The architects must build heavy -wooden frames, mount the projects and drawings, and cart them about -Paris to the different exhibition rooms. - -At the end of a year the _nouveau_ drops his hated title and becomes a -proud ancient, to bully to his heart's content, as those before him. - -Mondays and Wednesdays are criticism days, for then M. Gérôme comes down -and goes over the work of his pupils. He is very early and punctual, -never arriving later than half-past eight, usually before half the -students are awake. The moment he enters all noises cease, and all seem -desperately hard at work, although a moment before the place may have -been in an uproar. Gérôme plumps down upon the man nearest to him, and -then visits each of his _élèves_, storming and scolding mercilessly -when his pupils have failed to follow his instructions. As soon as a -student's criticism is finished he rises and follows the master to hear -the other criticisms, so that toward the close the procession is large. - -[Illustration: 0057] - -Bishop's first criticism took him all aback. "_Comment!_" gasped the -master, gazing at the canvas in horror. "_Qu'est-ce que vous avez -fait?_" he sternly demanded, glaring at the luckless student, who, in -order to cultivate a striking individuality, was painting the model in -broad, thick dashes of color. Gérôme glanced at Bishop's palette, and -saw a complete absence of black upon it. "_Comment, vous n'avez pas de -noir?_" he roared. "_C'est très important, la partie matérielle! Vous -ne m'écoutez pas, mon ami,---je parle dans le désert! Vous n'avez pas -d'aspect général, mon ami,_" and much more, while Bishop sat cold to the -marrow. The students, crowded about, enjoyed his discomfiture immensely, -and, behind Gérôme's back, laughed in their sleeves and made faces at -Bishop. But many others suffered, and Bishop had his inning with them. - -All during Gérôme's tour of inspection the model must maintain his pose, -however difficult and exhausting. Often he is kept on a fearful strain -for two hours. After the criticism the boys show Gérôme sketches and -studies that they have made outside the Ecole, and it is in discussing -them that his geniality and kindliness appear. Gérôme imperiously -demands two things,--that his pupils, before starting to paint, lay on a -red or yellow tone, and that they keep their brushes scrupulously clean. -Woe to him who disobeys! - -After he leaves with a cheery "_Bon jour, messieurs!_" pandemonium -breaks loose, if the day be Saturday. Easels, stools, and studies are -mowed down as by a whirlwind, yells shake the building, the model is -released, a tattoo is beaten on the sheet-iron stove-guard, everything -else capable of making a noise is brought into service, and either the -model is made to do the _danse du ventre_ or a _nouveau_ is hazed. - -The models--what stories are there! Every Monday morning from ten to -twenty present themselves, male and female, for inspection in _puris -naturalibus_ before the critical gaze of the students of the different -ateliers. One after another they mount the throne and assume such -academic poses of their own choosing as they imagine will display their -points to the best advantage. The students then vote upon them, for and -against, by raising the hand. The massier, standing beside the model, -announces the result, and, if the vote is favorable, enrols the model -for a certain week to come. - -There is intense rivalry among the models. Strange to say, most of the -male models in the schools of Paris are from Italy, the southern part -especially. As a rule, they have very good figures. They begin posing -at the age of five or six, and follow the business until old age retires -them. Crowds of them are at the gates of the Beaux-Arts early on Monday -mornings. In the voting, a child may be preferred to his seniors, and -yet the rate of payment is the same,--thirty francs a week. - -[Illustration: 0061] - -Many of the older models are quite proud of their profession, spending -idle hours in studying the attitudes of figures in great paintings and -in sculptures in the Louvre or the Luxembourg, and adopting these poses -when exhibiting themselves to artists; but the trick is worthless. - -Few of the women models remain long in the profession. Posing is hard -and fatiguing work, and the students are merciless in their criticisms -of any defects of figure that the models may have,--the French are born -critics. During the many years that I have studied and worked in Paris -I have seen scores of models begin their profession with a serious -determination to make it their life-work. - -[Illustration: 9062] - -They would appear regularly at the different ateliers for about two -years, and would be gratified to observe endless reproductions of their -graces in the prize rows on the studio walls. Then their appearance -would be less and less regular, and they would finally disappear -altogether--whither? Some become contented companions of students -and artists, but the cafés along the _Boul' Mich'_, the cabarets of -Montmartre, and the dance-halls of the Moulin Rouge and the Bal Bullier -have their own story to tell. Some are happily married; for instance, -one, noted for her beauty of face and figure, is the wife of a New York -millionaire. But she was clever as well as beautiful, and few models -are that. Most of them are ordinaire, living the easy life of Bohemian -Paris, and having little knowledge of _le monde propre._ But, oh, how -they all love dress! and therein lies most of the story. When Marcelle -or Hélène appears, all of a sudden, radiant in silks and creamy lace -petticoats, and sweeps proudly into the crowded studios, flushed and -happy, and hears the dear compliments that the students heap upon her, -we know that thirty francs a week could not have changed the gray grub -into a gorgeous butterfly. - -"_C'est mon amant qui m'a fait cadeau,_" Marcelle will explain, deeming -some explanation necessary. There is none to dispute you, Marcelle. This -vast whirlpool has seized many another like you, and will seize many -another more. And to poor Marcelle it seems so small a price to pay to -become one of the grand ladies of Paris, with their dazzling jewels and -rich clothes! - -An odd whim may overtake one here and there. One young demoiselle, -beautiful as a girl and successful as a model a year ago, may now be -seen nightly at the _Cabaret du Soleil d'Or_, frowsy and languishing, in -keeping with the spirit of her confrères there, singing her famous -"_Le Petit Caporal_" to thunderous applause, and happy with the love, -squalor, dirt, and hunger that she finds with the luckless poet whose -fortunes she shares. It was not a matter of clothes with her. - -It is a short and easy step from the studio to the _café_. At the studio -it is all little money, hard posing, dulness, and poor clothes; at -the _cafés_ are the brilliant lights, showy clothes, tinkling money, -clinking glasses, popping corks, unrestrained abandon, and midnight -suppers. And the studios and the _cafés_ are but adjoining apartments, -one may say, in the great house of Bohemia. The studio is the -introduction to the _café_; the _café_ is the burst of sunshine after -the dreariness of the studio; and Marcelle determines that for once she -will bask in the warmth and glow.... Ah, what a jolly night it was, and -a louis d'or in her purse besides! Marcelle's face was pretty--and new. -She is late at the studio next morning, and is sleepy and cross. The -students grumble. The room is stifling, and its gray walls seem ready to -crush her. It is so tiresome, so stupid--and only thirty francs a week! -Bah!... Marcelle appears no more. - -All the great painters have their exclusive model or models, paying them -a permanent salary. These favored ones move in a special circle, into -which the ordinaire may not enter, unless she becomes the favorite of -some grand homme. They are never seen at the academies, and rarely or -never pose in the schools, unless it was there they began their career. - -Perhaps the most famous of the models of Paris was Sarah Brown, whose -wild and exciting life has been the talk of the world. Her beautiful -figure and glorious golden hair opened to her the whole field of -modeldom. Offers for her services as model were more numerous than she -could accept, and the prices that she received were very high. She -was the mistress of one great painter after another, and she lived and -reigned like a queen. Impulsive, headstrong, passionate, she would do -the most reckless things. She would desert an artist in the middle of -his masterpiece and come down to the studio to pose for the students -at thirty francs a week. Gorgeously apparelled, she would glide into a -studio, overturn all the easels that she could reach, and then shriek -with laughter over the havoc and consternation that she had created. The -students would greet her with shouts and form a circle about her, while -she would banteringly call them her friends. Then she would jump upon -the throne, dispossess the model there, and give a dance or make a -speech, knocking off every hat that her parasol could reach. But no one -could resist Sarah. - -She came up to the _Atelier Gérôme_ one morning and demanded une semaine -de femme. The _massier_ booked her for the following week. She arrived -promptly on time and was posed. Wednesday a whim seized her to wear her -plumed hat and silk stockings. "_C'est beaucoup plus chic_," she naively -explained. When Gérôme entered the studio and saw her posing thus she -smiled saucily at him, but he turned in a rage and left the studio -without a word. Thursday she tired of the pose and took one to please -herself, donning a skirt. Of course protests were useless, so the -students had to recommence their work. The remainder of the week she sat -upon the throne in full costume, refusing to pose. She amused herself -with smoking cigarettes and keeping the _nouveaux_ running errands for -her. - -It was she who was the cause of the students' riot in 1893,--a riot that -came near ending in a revolution. It was all because she appeared at le -Bal des Quat'z' Arts in a costume altogether too simple and natural -to suit the prefect of police, who punished her. She was always at -the Salon on receiving-day, and shocked the occupants of the liveried -carriages on the Champs-Elysées with her dancing. In fact, she was -always at the head of everything extraordinary and sensational among the -Bohemians of Paris. But she aged rapidly under her wild life. Her figure -lost its grace, her lovers deserted her, and after her dethronement -as Queen of Bohemia, broken-hearted and poor, she put an end to her -wretched life,--and Paris laughed. - -The breaking in of a new girl model is a joy that the students never -permit themselves to miss. Among the many demoiselles who come every -Monday morning are usually one or two that are new. The new one -is accompanied by two or more of her girl friends, who give her -encouragement at the terrible moment when she disrobes. As there are no -dressing-rooms, there can be no privacy. The students gather about and -watch the proceedings with great interest, and make whatever remarks -their deviltry can suggest. This is the supreme test; all the efforts -of the attendant girls are required to hold the new one to her purpose. -When finally, after an inconceivable struggle with her shame, the girl -plunges ahead in reckless haste to finish the job, the students applaud -her roundly. - -[Illustration: 0067] - -But more torture awaits her. Frightened, trembling, blushing furiously, -she ascends the throne, and innocently assumes the most awkward and -ridiculous poses, forgetting in that terrible moment the poses that she -had learned so well under the tutelage of her friends. It is then that -the fiendishness of the students rises to its greatest height. Dazed and -numb, she hardly comprehends the ordeal through which she is now put. -The students have adopted a grave and serious bearing, and solemnly ask -her to assume the most outlandish and ungraceful poses. Then come long -and mock-earnest arguments about her figure, these arguments having been -carefully learned and rehearsed beforehand. One claims that her waist is -too long and her legs too heavy; another hotly takes the opposite view. -Then they put her through the most absurd evolutions to prove their -points. At last she is made to don her hat and stockings; and the -students form a ring about her and dance and shout until she is ready to -faint. - -Of course the studio has a ringleader in all this deviltry,--all studios -have. Joncierge is head of all the mischief in our atelier. There is -no end to his ingenuity in devising new means of torture and fun. His -personations are marvellous. When he imitates Bernhardt, Réjane, or -Calvé, no work can be done in the studio. Gérôme himself is one of his -favorite victims. But Joncierge cannot remain long in one school; the -authorities pass him on as soon as they find that he is really hindering -the work of the students. One day, at Julian's, he took the class -skeleton, and with a cord let the rattling, quivering thing down into -the Rue du Dragon, and frightened the passers out of their wits. As his -father is chef d'orchestre at the Grand Opéra, Joncierge junior learns -all the operas and convulses us with imitations of the singers. - -[Illustration: 9070] - -Another character in the studio is le jeune Siffert, only twenty-three, -and one of the cleverest of the coming French painters. Recently he -nearly won the Prix de Rome. His specialty is the imitation of the cries -of domestic fowls and animals, and of street venders. Gérôme calls him -"mon fils," and constantly implores him to be serious. I don't see why. - -Then there is Fiola, a young giant from Brittany, with a wonderful -facility at drawing. He will suddenly break into a roar, and for an hour -sing one verse of a Brittany chant, driving the other students mad. - -Fournier is a little curly-headed fellow from the south, near Valence, -and wears corduroy trousers tucked into top-boots. His greatest delight -is in plaguing the nouveaux. His favorite joke, if the day is dark, is -to send a nouveau to the different ateliers of the Ecole in search of -"le grand réflecteur." The nouveau, thinking that it is a device for -increasing the light, starts out bravely, and presently returns with a -large, heavy box, which, upon its being opened, is found to be filled -with bricks. Then Fournier is happy. - -Taton is the butt of the atelier. He is an ingénu, and falls into any -trap set for him. Whenever anything is missing, all pounce upon Taton, -and he is very unhappy. - -Haidor, the Turk, suspicious and sullen, also is a butt. Caricatures of -him abundantly adorn the walls, together with the Turkish crescent, and -Turkish ladies executing the _danse du ventre_. - -Caricatures of all kinds cover the walls of the atelier, and some are -magnificent, being spared the vandalism that spares nothing else. One, -especially good, represents Kenyon Cox, who studied here. - -W------, the student from Nebraska, created a sensation by appearing one -day in the full regalia of a cowboy, including two immense revolvers, -a knife, and a lariat depending from his belt. With the lariat he -astonished and dismayed the dodging Frenchmen by lassoing them at will, -though they exercised their greatest running and dodging agility to -escape. They wanted to know if all Americans went about thus heeled in -America. - -There is something uncanny about the little Siamese. He is exceedingly -quiet and works unceasingly. One day, when the common spirit of mischief -was unusually strong among the boys, the bolder ones began to hint at -fun in the direction of the Siamese. He quietly shifted a pair of brass -knuckles from some pocket to a more convenient one, and although it was -done so unostentatiously, the act was observed. He was not disturbed, -and has been left strictly alone ever since. - -One day the Italian students took the whole atelier down to a little -restaurant on the Quai des Grands-Augustins and cooked them an excellent -Italian dinner, with Chianti to wash it down. Two Italian street-singers -furnished the music, and Mademoiselle la Modèle danced as only a model -can. - -[Illustration: 0072] - - - - -TAKING PICTURES TO THE SALON - - -EVER since New Year's, when Bishop began his great composition for the -Salon, our life at the studio had been sadly disarranged; for Bishop had -so completely buried himself in his work that I was compelled to combine -the functions of cook with those of chambermaid. - -[Illustration: 9073] - -This double work, with increasing pressure from my modelling, required -longer hours at night and shorter hours in the morning. But I was -satisfied, for this was to be Bishop's masterpiece, and I knew from the -marvellous labor and spirit that he put into the work that something -good would result. - -The name of his great effort was "The Suicide." It was like him to -choose so grisly a subject, for he had a lawless nature and rebelled -against the commonplace. Ghastly subjects had always fascinated him. -From the very beginning of our domestic partnership he had shown a taste -for grim and forbidding things. Often, upon returning home, I had -found him making sketches of armless beggars, twisted cripples, and -hunchbacks, and, worse than all, disease-marked vagabonds. A skull-faced -mortal in the last stages of consumption was a joy to him. It was -useless for me to protest that he was failing to find the best in him -by developing his unwholesome tastes. "Wait," he would answer patiently; -"the thing that has suffering and character, that is out of the -ordinary, it is the thing that will strike and live." - -The suicide was a young woman gowned in black; she was poised in the act -of plunging into the Seine; a babe was tightly clutched to her breast; -and behind the unspeakable anguish in her eyes was a hungry hope, a -veiled assurance of the peace to come. It fascinated and haunted me -beyond all expression. It was infinitely sad, tragic, and terrible, for -it reached with a sure touch to the very lowest depth of human agony. -The scene was the dead of night, and only the dark towers of Notre-Dame -broke the even blackness of the sky, save for a faint glow that touched -the lower stretches from the distant lamps of the city. In the darkness -only the face of the suicide was illuminated, and that but dimly, though -sufficiently to disclose the wonderfully complex emotions that crowded -upon her soul. This illumination came from three ghastly green lights -on the water below. The whole tone of the picture was a black, sombre -green. - -That was all after the painting had been finished. The making of it is -a story by itself. From the first week in January to the first week in -March the studio was a junk-shop of the most uncanny sort. In order to -pose his model in the act of plunging into the river, Bishop had rigged -up a tackle, which, depending from the ceiling, caught the model at the -waist, after the manner of a fire-escape belt, and thus half suspended -her. He secured his green tone and night effect by covering nearly all -the skylight and the window with green tissue-paper, besides covering -the floor and walls with green rugs and draperies. - -The model behaved very well in her unusual pose, but the babe--that was -the rub. The model did not happen to possess one, and Bishop had not yet -learned the difficulties attending the procuring and posing of infants. -In the first place, he found scores of babes, but not a mother, however -poor, willing to permit her babe to be used as a model, and a model for -so gruesome a situation. But after he had almost begun to despair, and -had well advanced with his woman model, an Italian woman came one day -and informed him that she could get an infant from a friend of her -sister's, if he would pay her one franc a day for the use of it. Bishop -eagerly made the bargain. Then a new series of troubles began. - -The babe objected most emphatically to the arrangement. It refused to -nestle in the arms of a strange woman about to plunge into eternity, and -the strange woman had no knack at all in soothing the infant's outraged -feelings. Besides, the model was unable to meet the youngster's frequent -demands for what it was accustomed to have, and the mother, who was -engaged elsewhere, had to be drummed up at exasperatingly frequent -intervals. All this told upon both Bishop and Francinette, the model, -and they took turns in swearing at the unruly brat, Bishop in English -and Francinette in French. Neither knew how to swear in Italian, or -things might have been different. I happened in upon these scenes once -in a while, and my enjoyment so exasperated Bishop that he threw paint- -tubes, bottles, and everything else at me that he could reach, and once -or twice locked me out of the studio, compelling me to kick my shins in -the cold street for hours at a time. On such occasions I would stand in -the court looking up at our window, expecting momentarily that the babe -would come flying down from that direction. - -When Bishop was not sketching and painting he was working up his -inspiration; and that was worst of all. His great effort was to get -himself into a suicidal mood. He would sit for hours on the floor, his -face between his knees, imagining all sorts of wrongs and slights that -the heartless world had put upon him. His husband had beaten him and -gone off with another woman; he had tried with all his woman-heart to -bear the cross; hunger came to pinch and torture him; he sought work, -failed to find it; sought charity, failed to find that; his babe -clutched at his empty breasts and cried piteously for food; his heart -broken, all hope gone, even God forgetting him, he thought of the dark, -silent river, the great cold river, that has brought everlasting peace -to countless thousands of suffering young mothers like him; he went to -the river; he looked back upon the faint glow of the city's lights in -the distance; he cast his glance up to the grim towers of Notre-Dame, -standing cold and pitiless against the blacker sky; he looked down upon -the black Seine, the great writhing python, so willing to swallow him -up; he clutched his babe to his breast, gasped a prayer.... - -At other times he would haunt the Morgue and study the faces of those -who had died by felo-de-se; he would visit the hospitals and study the -dying; he would watch the actions and read the disordered thoughts of -lunatics; he would steal along the banks; of the river on dark nights -and study the silent mystery and tragedy of it, and the lights that gave -shape to its terrors. In the end I grew afraid of him. - -But all things have an end. Bishop's great work was finished in the -first days of March. Slowly, but surely, his native exuberance of -spirits returned. He would eat and sleep like a rational being. His eyes -lost their haunted look, and his cheeks filled out and again took on -their healthy hue. And then he invited his friends and some critics to -inspect his composition, and gave a great supper in celebration of the -completion of his task. Very generous praise was given him. Among the -critics and masters came Gérôme and Laurens at his earnest supplication, -and it was good to see their delight and surprise, and to note that -they had no fault to find,--was not the picture finished, and would -not criticism from them at this juncture have hurt the boy without -accomplishing any good? Well, the painting secured honorable mention in -the exhibition, and five years later the French government completed -the artist's happiness by buying one of his pictures for the Luxembourg -Gallery. - -But about the picture: the canvas was eight by ten feet, and a frame -had to be procured for it. Now, frames are expensive, and Bishop had -impoverished himself for material and model hire. So he employed a -carpenter in the court to make a frame of thick pine boards, which we -painted a deep black, with a gold cornice. The whole cost was twenty- -five francs. - -Next day we hired a good-sized _voiture-à-bras_ at eight sous an hour, -and proceeded to get the tableau down to the court. It was a devilish -job, for the ceilings were low and the stairs narrow and crooked. The -old gentleman below us was nearly decapitated by poking his head out of -his door at an inopportune moment, and the lady below him almost wiped -the still wet babe from the canvas with her gown as she tried to squeeze -past. The entire court turned out to wish Bishop good success. - -The last day on which pictures are admitted to the Salon, there to await -the merciless decision of the judges, is a memorable one. In sumptuous -studios, in wretched garrets; amid affluence, amid scenes of squalor and -hunger, artists of all kinds and degrees have been squeezing thousands -of tubes and daubing thousands of canvases in preparation for the -great day. From every corner of Paris, from every quarter of France -and Europe, the canvases come pouring into the Salon. Every conceivable -idea, fad, and folly is represented in the collection, and most of them -are poor; but in each and every one a fond hope centres, an ambition is -staked. - -Strange as it may seem, most of these pictures are worked upon until the -very last day; indeed, many of them are snatched unfinished from their -easels, to receive the finishing touches in the dust and confusion and -deafening noise of the great hall where they are all dumped like so much -merchandise. We saw one artist who, not having finished his picture, -was putting on the final touches as it was borne ahead of him along the -street on the back of a commissionnaire. - -[Illustration: 0079] - -And all this accounts for the endless smearing everywhere noticeable, -and for the frantic endeavors of the artists to repair the damage at the -last moment. - -One great obstacle to poor artists is the rigid rule requiring that all -tableaux shall be framed. These frames are costly. As a result, some -artists paint pictures of the same size year after year, so that the -same frame may be used for all, and others resort to such makeshifts -as Bishop was compelled to employ. But these makeshifts must be -artistically done, or the canvases are ignored by the judges. These -efforts give rise to many startling effects. - -It was not very long, after an easy pull over the Boulevard St.-Germain, -before we crossed the Seine at the Pont de la Concorde, traversed the -Place de la Concorde, and turned into the Champs-Elysées, where, not far -away, loomed the Palais des Beaux-Arts, in which the Salon is annually -held in March. The Avenue des Champs-Elysées, crowded as it usually is -in the afternoons, was now jammed with cabs, omnibuses, hand-carts, and -all sorts of moving vans, mingling with the fashionable carriages on -their way to the Bois. The proletarian vehicles contained art,--art -by the ton. The upper decks of the omnibuses were crowded with artists -carrying their pictures because they could not afford more than the -three-sous fare. And such an assortment of artists! - -There were some in affluent circumstances, who rolled along voluptuously -in cabs on an expenditure of thirty-five francs, holding their precious -tableaux and luxuriantly smoking cigarettes. - -[Illustration: 0081] - -The commissionnaires had a great day of it. They are the ones usually -seen asleep on the street corners, where, when awake, they varnish boots -or bear loads by means of a contrivance on their backs. On this day -every one of them in Paris was loaded down with pictures. - -Many were the hard-up students, like Bishop, tugging hand-carts, or -pairing to carry by hand pictures too large to be borne by a single -person. And great fun they got out of it all. - -Opposite the Palais de Glace was a perfect sea of vehicles, artists, -porters, and policemen, all inextricably tangled up, all shouting or -groaning, and wet pictures suffering. One artist nearly had a fit when -he saw a full moon wiped off his beautiful landscape, and he would have -killed the guilty porter had not the students interfered. Portraits -of handsome ladies with smudged noses and smeared eyes were common. -Expensive gold frames lost large sections of their corners. But still -they were pouring in. - -With infinite patience and skill Bishop gradually worked his _voiture-à- -bras_ through the maze, and soon his masterpiece was in the crushing -mass at the wide entrance to the Salon. There it was seized and rushed -along, and Bishop received in return a slip of paper bearing a number. - -While within the building we reconnoitred. Amid the confusion of -howling inspectors, straining porters bearing heavy pictures, carpenters -erecting partitions, and a dust-laden atmosphere, numerous artists were -working with furious haste upon their unfinished productions. Some were -perched upon ladders, others squatted upon the floor, and one had his -model posing nude to the waist; she was indifferent to the attention -that she received. Thoughtful mistresses stood affectionately beside -their artist amants, furnishing them with delicate edibles and lighting -cigarettes for them. - -Some of the pictures were so large that they were brought in rolled -up. One artist had made himself into a carpenter to mount his mammoth -picture. Frightful and impossible paintings were numerous, but the -painter of each expected a _première médaille d'honneur_. - -It was nearing six o'clock, the closing hour. Chic demoiselle artistes -came dashing up in cabs, bringing with them, to insure safe delivery, -their everlasting still-life subjects. - -Shortly before six the work in the building was suspended by a commotion -outside. It was a contingent of students from the Beaux-Arts marching up -the Champs-Elysées, yelling and dancing like maniacs and shaking their -heavy sticks, the irresistible Sarah Brown leading as drum-maior. She -was gorgeously arrayed in the most costly silks and laces, and looked -a dashing Amazon. Then, as always, she was perfectly happy with her -beloved _étudiants_, who worshipped her as a goddess. She halted them in -front of the building, where they formed a circle round her, and there, -as director of ceremonies, she required them to sing chansons, dance, -make comic speeches, and "blaguer" the arriving artists. - -The last van was unloaded; the great doors closed with a bang, and the -stirring day was ended. All the students, even the porters, then joined -hands and went singing, howling, and skipping down the Champs-Elysées, -and wishing one another success at the coming exhibition. At the Place -de la Concorde we met a wild-eyed artist running frantically toward the -Salon with his belated picture. The howls of encouragement that greeted -him lent swifter wings to his legs. - -The pictures finally installed, a jury composed of France's greatest -masters pass upon them. The endless procession of paintings is passed -before them; the raising of their hands means approval, silence means -condemnation; and upon those simple acts depends the happiness or -despair of thousands. But depression does not long persist, and the -judgment is generally accepted in the end as just and valuable. For the -students, in great part, flock to the country on sketching tours, for -which arrangements had been already made; and there the most deeply -depressed spirits must revive and the habit of work and hope come into -play. Year after year the same artists strive for recognition at the -Salon; and finally, when they fail at that, they reflect that there is -a great world outside of the Salon, where conscientious effort is -acceptable. And, after all, a medal at the Salon is not the only reward -that life has to offer. - -And then, it is not always good for a student to be successful from the -start. Just as his social environment in Paris tries his strength and -determines the presence or absence of qualities that are as useful to -a successful career as special artistic qualifications, so the trial by -fire in the Salon exhibitions hardens and toughens him for the serious -work of his life ahead. Too early success has ruined more artists than -it has helped. It is interesting also to observe that, as a rule, the -students who eventually secure the highest places in art are those whose -difficulties have been greatest. The lad with the pluck to live on a -crust in a garret, and work and study under conditions of poverty and -self-denial that would break any but the stoutest heart, is the one -from whom to expect renown in the years to come. Ah, old Paris is the -harshest but wisest of mothers! - -"_H! ah! vive les Quat'z' Arts! Au Molin Rouge--en route!_" the lamplit -streets of Paris as cab after cab and bus after 'bus went thundering -across town toward Montmartre, heavily freighted with brilliantly -costumed revellers of les Quat'z' Arts. Parisians ran from their dinner- -tables to the windows and balconies, blasé boulevardiers paused in their -evening stroll or looked up from their papers at the _café_-tables, -waiters and swearing cabbies and yelling newsboys stopped in the midst -of their various duties, and all knowingly shook their heads, "_Ah, ce -sont les Quat'z' Arts!_"? - -For to-night was the great annual ball of the artists, when all artistic -Paris crawls from its mysterious depths to revel in a splendid carnival -possible only to the arts. Every spring, after the pictures have been -sent to the Salon, and before the students have scattered for the summer -vacation, the artists of Paris and the members of all the ateliers of -the four arts--painting, sculpture, architecture, and engraving--combine -their forces in producing a spectacle of regal splendor, seen nowhere -else in the world; and long are the weeks and hard the work and vast the -ingenuity devoted to preparations,--the designing of costumes and the -building of gorgeous floats. - -During the last three weeks the _élèves_ of the _Atelier Gérôme_ -abandoned their studies, forgot all about the concours and the Prix de -Rome, and devoted all their energies to the construction of a colossal -figure of Gérôme's great war goddess, "Bel-lona." It was a huge task, -but the students worked it out with a will. Yards of sackcloth, rags, -old coats, paint rags, besides pine timbers, broken easels and stools, -endless wire and rope, went into the making of the goddess's frame, and -this was covered with plaster of Paris dexterously moulded into shape. -Then it was properly tinted and painted and mounted on a chariot of -gold. A Grecian frieze of galloping horses, mounted, the clever work of -Siffert, was emblazoned on the sides of the chariot. And what a wreck -the atelier was after all was finished! _Sacré nom d'un chien!_ How the -gardiens must have sworn when cleaning-day came round! - -The ateliers in the Ecole are all rivals, and each had been secretly -preparing its coup with which to capture the grand prix at the bal. - -The great day came at last. The students of our atelier were perfectly -satisfied with their handiwork, and the massier made all happy by -ordering a retreat to the Café des Deux Magots, where success to the -goddess was drunk in steaming "grog Américain." Then Bellona began her -perilous journey across Paris to Montmartre and the Moulin Rouge. - -[Illustration: 0087] - -This was not an easy task, as she was fifteen feet high; signs and lamp- -posts suffered, and sleepy cab-horses danced as their terrified gaze -beheld the giant goddess with her uplifted sword. Crowds watched the -progress of Bellona on the Avenue de l'Opéra, drawn by half a hundred -students yelling the national hymn. The pull up the steep slope of -Montmartre was heavy, but in less than two hours from the start at the -Ecole the goddess was safely housed in the depths of the Moulin Rouge, -there to await her triumphs of the night. - -Bishop, besides doing his share in the preparation of the figure, had -the equally serious task of devising a costume for his own use at -the ball. It was not until the very last day that he made his final -decision,--to go as a Roman orator. Our supply of linen was meagre, but -our only two clean bed-sheets and a few towels were sufficient, and two -kind American ladies who were studying music and who lived near the old -church of St. Sulpice did the fitting of a toga. The soles of a pair -of slippers from which Bishop cut the tops served as sandals, and -some studio properties in the way of Oriental bracelets completed his -costume. I was transformed into an Apache Indian by a generous rubbing -into my skin of burnt sienna and cadmium, which I was weeks in getting -rid of; a blanket and some chicken-feathers finished my array. Our -friend Cameron, next door, went in his Scotch kilts. After supper we -entered the Boul' Mich' and proceeded to the Café de la Source, where -the students of the _Atelier Gérôme_ were to rendezvous. - -[Illustration: 0090] - -The Boul' was a spectacle that night. Time had rolled back the curtain -of centuries; ancient cemeteries had yielded up their dead; and living -ghosts of the ages packed all the gay _café_s. History from the time of -Adam had sent forth its traditions, and Eves rubbed elbows with ballet- -girls. There was never a jollier night in the history of the Quartier -Latin. - -We found the Café de la Source already crowded by the Gérôme contingent -and their models and mistresses, all en costume and bubbling with -merriment and mischief. It was ten o'clock before all the students had -arrived. Then we formed in procession, and yelled and danced past all -the _café_s on the Boul' Mich' to the Luxembourg Palace and the Théâtre -de l'Odéon, to take the 'buses of the Montmartre line. These we quickly -seized and overloaded in violation of the law, and then, dashing down -the quiet streets of the Rive Gauche, headed for Montmartre, making a -noise to rouse the dead. As we neared the Place Blanche we found the -little streets merging from different quarters crowded with people in -costume, some walking and others crowding almost innumerable vehicles, -and the balconies and portes-cochères packed with spectators. The Place -Blanche fronts the Moulin Rouge, and it was crowded and brilliantly -lighted. The façade of the Moulin Rouge was a blaze of electric lights -and colored lanterns, and the revolving wings of the mill flamed across -the sky. It was a perfect night. The stars shone, the air was warm and -pleasant, and the trees were tipped with the glistening clean foliage -of early spring. The bright _café_s fronting the Place were crowded -with gay revellers. The poets of Bohemia were there, and gayly attired -cocottes assisted them in their fun at the _café_ tables, extending -far out into the boulevard under the trees. At one corner was Gérôme's -private studio, high up in the top of the house, and standing on the -balcony was Gérôme himself, enjoying the brilliant scene below. - -As the Bal des Quat'z' Arts is not open to the public, and as none -but accredited members of the four arts are admitted, the greatest -precautions are taken to prevent the intrusion of outsiders; and -wonderful is the ingenuity exercised to outwit the authorities. Inside -the vestibule of the Moulin was erected a tribune (a long bar), behind -which sat the massiers of the different studios of Paris, all in -striking costumes. It was their task not only to identify the holders of -tickets, but also to pass on the suitability of the costumes of such -as were otherwise eligible to admittance. The costumes must all have -conspicuous merit and be thoroughly artistic. Nothing black, no dominos, -none in civilian dress, may pass. Many and loud were the protestations -that rang through the vestibule as one after another was turned back and -firmly conducted to the door. - -Once past the implacable tribunes, we entered a dazzling fairy-land, a -dream of rich color and reckless abandon. From gorgeous kings and queens -to wild savages, all were there; courtiers in silk, naked gladiators, -nymphs with paint for clothing,--all were there; and the air was heavy -with the perfume of roses. Shouts, laughter, the silvery clinking of -glasses, a whirling mass of life and color, a bewildering kaleidoscope, -a maze of tangled visions in the soft yellow haze that filled the vast -hall. There was no thought of the hardness and sordidness of life, no -dream of the morrow. It was a wonderful witchery that sat upon every -soul there. - -This splendid picture was framed by a wall of lodges, each sumptuously -decorated and hung with banners, tableaux, and greens, each representing -a particular atelier and adorned in harmony with the dominant ideals -of their masters. The lodge of the _Atelier Gérôme_ was arranged to -represent a Grecian temple; all the decorations and accessories were -pure Grecian, cleverly imitated by the master's devoted pupils. That of -the Atelier Cormon repre sented a huge caravan of the prehistoric -big- muscled men that appeal so strongly to Cormon; large skeletons of -extinct animals, giant ferns, skins, and stone implements were scattered -about, while the students of Cormon's atelier, almost naked, with bushy -hair and clothed in skins, completed the picture. And so it was with all -the lodges, each typifying a special subject, and carrying it out with -perfect fidelity to the minutest detail. - -The event of the evening was the grand cortège; this, scheduled for one -o'clock, was awaited with eager expectancy, for with it would come the -test of supremacy,--the awarding of the prize for the best. For this was -the great art centre of the world, and this night was the one in which -its rivalries would strain the farthest reach of skill. - -Meanwhile, the great hall swarmed with life and blazed with color and -echoed with the din of merry voices. Friends recognized one another with -great difficulty. And there was Gérôme himself at last, gaudily gowned -in the rich green costume of a Chinese mandarin, his white moustache -dyed black, and his white locks hidden beneath a black skull-cap topped -with a bobbing appendage. And there also was Jean Paul Laurens, in the -costume of a Norman, the younger Laurens as Charlemagne. Léandre, the -caricaturist, was irresistible as a caricature of Queen Victoria. Puech, -the sculptor, made a graceful courtier of the Marie Antoinette régime. -Willett was a Roman emperor. Will Dodge was loaded with the crown, -silks, and jewels of a Byzantine emperor. - -Louis Loeb was a desperate Tartar bandit. Castaigne made a hit as an -Italian jurist. Steinlen, Grasset, Forain, Rodin,--in fact, nearly all -the renowned painters, sculptors, and illustrators of Paris were there; -and besides them were the countless students and models. - -[Illustration: 0094] - -"La cavalcade! le grand cortège!" rose the cry above the crashing of the -band and the noise of the revellers; and then all the dancing stopped. -Emerging from the gardens through the open glass door, bringing with it -a pleasant blast of the cool night air, was the vanguard of the great -procession. The orchestra struck up the "Victor's March," and a great -cry of welcome rang out. - -First came a band of yelling Indians dancing in, waving their spears and -tomahawks, and so cleaving a way for the parade. A great roar filled -the glass-domed hall when the first float appeared. It was daring and -unique, but a masterpiece. Borne upon the shoulders of Indians, who were -naked but for skins about their loins, their bodies stained a dark brown -and striped with paint, was a gorgeous bed of fresh flowers and trailing -vines; and reclining in this bed were four of the models of Paris, lying -on their backs, head to head, their legs upraised to support a circular -tablet of gold. - -[Illustration: 0095] - -Upon this, high in air, proud and superb, was the great Susanne in all -her peerless beauty of face and form,--simply that and nothing more. A -sparkling crown of jewels glowed in her reddish golden hair; a flashing -girdle of electric lights encircled her slender waist, bringing out the -marvellous whiteness of her skin, and with delicate shadows and tones -modelling the superb contour of her figure. She looked a goddess--and -knew it. The crowd upon whom she looked down stood for a while spell- -bound, and then, with a waving of arms and flags, came a great shout, -"Susanne! Susanne! la belle Susanne!" Susanne only smiled. Was she not -the queen of the models of Paris? - -Then came Bellona! Gérôme, when he conceived and executed the idea -embodied in this wonderful figure, concentrated his efforts to produce a -most terrifying, fear-inspiring image typifying the horrors of war. The -straining goddess, poised upon her toes to her full height, her face -uplifted, her head thrust forward, with staring eyes and screaming -mouth, her short two-edged sword in position for a sweeping blow, -her glittering round shield and her coat of mail, a huge angry python -darting its tongue and raising its green length from the folds of her -drapery,--all this terrible figure, reproduced with marvellous fidelity -and magnified tenfold, overwhelmed the thousands upon whom it -glowered. Surrounding the golden chariot was a guard of Roman and Greek -gladiators, emperors, warriors, and statesmen. From the staring eyes of -Bellona flashed green fire, whose uncanny shafts pierced the yellow haze -of the ball-room. Under a storm of cheers Bellona went on her way past -the tribune of the judges. - -[Illustration: 0097] - -Following Bellona came a beautiful reproduction of Gérôme's classical -"Tanagra," which adorns the sculpture gallery of the Luxembourg. The -figure was charmingly personated by Marcelle, a lithe, slim, graceful -model of immature years, who was a rage in the studios. Gérôme himself -applauded the grace of her pose as she swept past his point of vantage -in the gallery. - -[Illustration: 0099] - -Behind Tanagra came W------, also of the Atelier Gérôme, dressed as an -Apache warrior and mounted on a bucking broncho. He was an American, -from Nebraska, where he was a cowboy before he became famous as a -sculptor. He received a rousing welcome from his fellow-artists. - -The Atelier Cormon came next,--a magnificent lot of brawny fellows -clothed in skins, and bearing an immense litter made of tree branches -bound with thongs and weighted down with strong naked women and children -of a prehistoric age. It was a reproduction of Cormon's masterpiece in -the Luxembourg Gallery, and was one of the most impressive compositions -in the whole parade. - -Then came the works of the many other studios, all strong and -effective, but none so fine as the three first. The Atelier Pascal, of -architecture, made a sensation by appearing as Egyptian mummies, each -mummy dragging an Egyptian coffin covered with ancient inscriptions and -characters and containing a Parisian model, all too alive and sensuous -to personate the ancient dead. Another atelier strove hard for the prize -with eggs of heroic size, from which as many girls, as chicks, were -breaking their way to freedom. - -After the grand cortège had paraded the hall several times it disbanded, -and the ball proceeded with renewed enthusiasm. - -The tribune, wherein the wise judges sat, was a large and artistic -affair, built up before the gallery of the orchestra and flanked by -broad steps leading to its summit. It was topped with the imperial -escutcheon of Rome--battle-axes bound in fagots--and bore the legend, -"_Mort aux Tyrants_," in bold letters. Beneath was a row of ghastly, -bloody severed heads,--those of dead tyrants. - -The variety and originality of the costumes were bewildering. One -Frenchman went as a tombstone, his back, representing a headstone, -containing a suitable inscription and bearing wreaths of immortelles -and colored beads. Another, from the Atelier Bon-nat, went simply as a -stink, nothing more, nothing less, but it was potent. He had saturated -his skin with the juice of onions and garlic, and there was never any -mistaking his proximity. Many were the gay Bacchantes wearing merely a -bunch of grapes in their hair and a grape-leaf. - -At intervals during the evening the crowd would suddenly gather and form -a large circle, many deep, some climbing upon the backs of others the -better to see, those in front squatting or lying upon the floor to -accommodate the mass behind them. The formation of these circles was the -signal for the _danse du ventre_.* - - -* The danse du ventre (literally, belly-dance) is of Turkish origin, -and was introduced to Paris by Turkish women from Egypt. Afterward these -women exhibited it in the Midway Plaisance of the Columbian Exposition, -Chicago, and then at the California Midwinter Exposition, San Francisco. -As danced by Turkish women it consists of astonishing control and -movements of the abdominal and chest muscles (hence its other name, -muscle-dance), varied with more or less graceful steps and gyrations, -with adjuncts, such as castanets, scarfs, etc., and the seemingly -perilous use of swords. Such clothing is worn as least obscures the play -of the muscles. It is danced to a particular Turkish air, monotonously -repeated by an orchestra of male Turkish musicians, with Turkish -instruments, and the dance is done solus. A dance closely analogous -to it, though of a wholly independent origin, is the hula-hula of the -Hawaiian women; but the hula-hula lacks the grace, dash, and abandon of -the Turkish dance. The danse du ventre, as danced by French and American -women who have "picked it up," is very different from that of the -Turkish women--different both in form and meaning. Whatever of -suggestiveness it may be supposed to carry is, in the adaptation, -grossly exaggerated, and whatever of grace and special muscular skill, -evidently acquired by Turkish women only from long and thorough drill, -is eliminated. W. C. M. - - -[Illustration: 0103] - -The name of some favorite model would be yelled, and the orchestra would -strike up the familiar Oriental strain. And there was always a model to -respond. Then the regular dancing would be resumed until another circle -was formed and another favorite goddess of the four arts would be called -out. - -It was three o'clock when supper was announced by the appearance of two -hundred white-aproned waiters carrying scores of tables, chairs, and -hampers of plate and glassware. The guests fell to with a will and -assisted in spreading and setting the tables; almost in a moment the -vast hall was a field of snow pricked out with the brilliant costumes of -the revellers. Then came a frightful din of pounding on the tables for -the supper. Again marched in the two hundred waiters, loaded with cases -of champagne, plates of creamy soup, roasts, salads, cheeses, creams, -cakes, ices,--a feast of Bacchus, indeed. The banquet was enjoyed with -Bohemian abandon. - -The twelve wise judges of the Tribune now gravely announced their award -of prizes, and each announcement was received with ringing applause. -The _Atelier Gérôme_ received first prize,--fifty bottles of champagne, -which were immediately taken possession of. The other ateliers received -smaller prizes, as their merits deserved, and all were satisfied and -happy. The banquet was resumed. - -Now here was Susanne, not content with her triumph of the early evening, -springing upon one of the central tables, sending the crockery and -glassware crashing to the floor with her dainty foot, and serenely -surveying the crowd as it greeted her tumultuously, and, seizing a -bottle of champagne, sending its foaming contents over as wide a circle -of revellers as her strength could reach, laughing in pure glee over her -feat, and then bathing her own white body with the contents of another -bottle that she poured over herself. A superb Bacchante she made! A -general salute of popping corks and clinking glasses greeted her, and -she acknowledged the compliment with the danse du ventre. Susanne was -so sure of the adoration and affection of the ateliers! Her dance was -a challenge to every other model in the chamber. One after another, and -often several at a time, they mounted the tables, spurned the crockery -to the floor, and gave the danse du ventre. The Moulin was indeed a wild -scene of joyous abandonment, and from an artistic point of view grand, -a luminous point in the history of modern times. Here were the life, -the color, the grace of the living picture, with a noble background -of surrounding temples, altars, statues,--a wonderful spectacle, that -artists can understand and appreciate. - -[Illustration: 0103 - -The feast wore merrily through the small hours until the cold blue dawn -began to pale the lights in the ceiling. Strangely beautiful was this -color effect, as the blue stole downward through the thick yellow -glamour of the hall, quickening the merry-makers with a new and uncanny -light, putting them out of place, and warning them thence. But still the -ball went rolling on. - -Though the floor was slippery with wine and dangerous from broken glass, -dancing and the cutting of capers proceeded without abatement. The -favorite danse du ventre and songs and speeches filled the night to -the end of the ball, and then the big orchestra, with a great flourish, -played the "Victor's March." This was the signal for the final -procession. The vast concourse of students and artists poured forth into -the cool, sweet morning air, and the bal was at an end. - -Paris was asleep, that early April morning, save for the street-sweepers -and the milkmaids and the concierges. But the Place Blanche was very -much awake. The morning air was new wine in stale veins, and it banished -fatigue. - -"_En cavalcade! en cavalcade!_" was the cry; and in cavalcade it was. -A great procession of all the costumers was formed, to march ensemble -across Paris to the Quartier Latin. Even the proud Bellona was dragged -along in the rear, towering as high as the lower wings of the now -motionless red windmill. She seemed to partake in the revelry, for she -swayed and staggered in an alarming fashion as she plunged recklessly -down the steeps of Montmartre. - -[Illustration: 0107] - -The deserted Rue Blanche re-echoed the wild yells and songs of the -revellers and the rattling of the string of cabs in the rear. The rows -of heaped ash-cans that lined the way were overturned one after another, -and the oaths and threatening brooms of the outraged concierges went for -nothing. Even the poor diligent rag- and bone-pickers were not spared; -their filled sacks, carrying the result of their whole night's hunt, -were taken from them and emptied. A string of carts heavily laden with -stone was captured near the Rue Lafayette, the drivers deposed, and the -big horses sent plunging through Paris, driven by Roman charioteers, and -making more noise than a company of artillery. - -When the Place de l'Opéra was reached a thousand revellers swarmed up -the broad stairs of the Grand Opéra like colored ants, climbed upon the -lamp-posts and candelabra, and clustered all over the groups of statuary -adorning the magnificent façade. The band took up a position in the -centre and played furiously, while the artists danced ring-around-a- -rosy, to the amazement of the drowsy residents of the neighborhood. - -The cavalcade then re-formed and marched down the Avenue de l'Opéra -toward the Louvre, where it encountered a large squad of street-sweepers -washing the avenue. In an instant the squad had been routed, and the -revellers, taking the hose and brooms, fell to and cleaned an entire -block, making it shine as it had never shone before. - -Cabs were captured, the drivers decorated with Roman helmets and swords, -and dances executed on the tops of the vehicles. One character, with -enormous india-rubber shoes, took delight in permitting cabs to run over -his feet, while he emitted howls of agony that turned the hair of the -drivers white. - -[Illustration: 9110] - -As the immense cavalcade filed through the narrow arches of the Louvre -court-yard it looked like a mediaeval army returning to its citadel -after a victorious campaign; the hundreds of battle-flags, spears, and -battle-axes were given a fine setting by the noble architecture of -the Pavillon de Rohan. Within the court of the Louvre was drawn up a -regiment of the Garde Municipale, going through the morning drill; and -they looked quite formidable with their evolutions and bayonet charges. -But when the mob of Greek and Roman warriors flung themselves bodily -upon the ranks of the guard, ousted the officers, and assumed command, -there was consternation. - -[Illustration: 0111] - -All the rigid military dignity of the scene disappeared, and the drill -was turned into such a farce as the old Louvre had never seen before. -The officers, furious at first, could not resist the spirit of pure fun -that filled the mob, and took their revenge by kissing the models -and making them dance. The girls had already done their share of the -conquering by pinning flowers to military coats and coyly putting pretty -lips where they were in danger. Even the tall electric-light masts in -the court were scaled by adventurous students, who attached brilliant -flags, banners, and crests to the mast-heads far above the crowd. - -To the unspeakable relief of the officers, the march was then resumed. -The Pont du Carrousel was the next object of assault; here was performed -the solemn ceremony of the annual sacrifice of the Quat'z' Arts to the -river Seine. The mighty Bellona was the sacrifice. She was trundled -to the centre of the bridge and drawn close to the parapet, while the -disciples of the four arts gathered about with uncovered heads. The -first bright flashes of the morning sun, sweeping over the towers of -Notre-Dame, tipped Bellona's upraised sword with flame. The band played -a funeral march. Prayers were said, and the national hymn was sung; then -Bellona was sent tottering and crashing over the parapet, and with a -mighty plunge she sank beneath the waters of the Seine. A vast shout -rang through the crisp morning air. Far below, poor Bellona rose in -stately despair, and then slowly sank forever. - -The parade formed again and proceeded to the Beaux-Arts, the last -point of attack. Up the narrow Rue Bonaparte went singing the tired -procession; the gates of the Ecole opened to admit it, cabs and all, -and the doors were shut again. Then in the historic court-yard of the -government school, surrounded by remnants of the beautiful architecture -of once stately chateaux and palaces, and encircled by graceful -Corinthian columns, the students gave a repetition of the grand ball -at the Moulin Rouge. A strange and incongruous sight it was in the -brilliant sunshine, and the neighboring windows and balconies were -packed with onlookers. But by halfpast seven every trace of the Bal des -Quat'z' Arts had disappeared,--the great procession had melted away to -the haunts of Bohemia. - -[Illustration: 5114] - - - - -BOULEVARD SAINT-MICHEL - - -[Illustration: 0115] - - -OF course the proper name for the great thoroughfare of the Quartier -Latin is the Boulevard Saint-Michel, but the boulevardiers call it the -Boul' Mich', just as the students call the Quatre Arts the Quat'z' Arts, -because it is easier to say. - -The Boul' Mich' is the student's highway to relaxation. Mention of it -at once recalls whirling visions of brilliant _café_s, with their -clattering of saucers and glasses, the shouting of their white-aproned -garçons, their hordes of gay and wicked damsels dressed in the costliest -and most fashionable gowns, and a multitude of riotous students howling -class songs and dancing and parading to the different _café_s as -only students can. This is the head-quarters of the Bohemians of real -Bohemia, whose poets haunt the dim and quaint cabarets and read their -compositions to admiring friends; of flower-girls who offer you un petit -bouquet, seulement dix centimes, and pin it into your button-hole -before you can refuse; of Turks in picturesque native costume selling -sweetmeats; of the cane man loaded down with immense sticks; of the -stems a yard long; of beggars, gutter-snipes, hot-chestnut venders, ped- -lers, singers, actors, students, and all manner of queer characters. - -[Illustration: 9116] - -The life of the Boul' Mich' begins at the Panthéon, where repose the -remains of France's great men, and ends at the Seine, where the gray -Gothic towers and the gargoyles of Notre-Dame look down disdainfully -upon the giddy traffic below. The eastern side of the Boul' is lined -with _café_s, cabarets, and brasseries. - -This is historic ground, for where now is the old Hôtel Cluny are still -to be seen the ruins of Roman baths, and not a great distance hence are -the partly uncovered ruins of a Roman arena, with its tiers of stone -seats and its dens. The tomb of Cardinal Richelieu is in the beautiful -old chapel of the Sorbonne, within sound of the wickedest _café_ in -Paris, the Café d'Harcourt. - -[Illustration: 0117] - -In the immediate vicinity are to be found the quaint jumbled buildings -of old Paris, but they are fast disappearing. And the Quartier abounds -in the world's greatest schools and colleges of the arts and sciences. - -It was often our wont on Saturday evenings to saunter along the Boul', -and sometimes to visit the _café_s. To Bishop particularly it was always -a revelation and a delight, and he was forever studying and sketching -the types that he found there. He was intimately acquainted in all the -_café_s along the line, and with the mysterious rendezvous in the dark -and narrow side streets. - -American beverages are to be had at many of the _café_s on the Boul',--a -recent and very successful experiment. The idea has captured the fancy -of the Parisians, so that "_Bars Américains_," which furnish cocktails -and sours, are numerous in the _café_s. Imagine a Parisian serenely -sucking a manhattan through a straw, and standing up at that! - -The Boul' Mich' is at its glory on Saturday nights, for the students -have done their week's work, and the morrow is Sunday. Nearly everybody -goes to the Bal Bullier. This is separated from the crowded Boul' Mich' -by several squares of respectable dwelling-houses and shops, and -a dearth of _café_s prevails thereabout. At the upper end of the -Luxembourg is a long stone wall brilliantly bedecked with lamps set in -clusters,--the same wall against which Maréchal Ney was shot (a striking -monument across the way recalls the incident). At one end of this yellow -wall is an arched entrée, resplendent with the glow of many rows of -electric lights and lamps, which reveal the colored bas-reliefs of -dancing students and gri-settes that adorn the portal. Near by stands -a row of voitures, and others are continually dashing up and depositing -Latin-Quarter swells with hair parted behind and combed forward toward -the ears, and dazzling visions of the demi-monde in lace, silks, and -gauze. And there is a constantly arriving stream of students and gaudily -dressed women on foot. Big gardes municipaux stand at the door like -stone images as the crowd surges past. - -[Illustration: 0121] - -To-night is one-franc night. An accommodating lady at the box-office -hands us each a broad card, and another, au vestiaire, takes our coats -and hats and charges us fifty centimes for the honor. Descending the -broad flight of softly carpeted red stairs, a brilliant, tumultuous, -roaring vision bursts upon us, for it is between the dances, and the -visitors are laughing and talking and drinking. The ball-room opens into -a generous garden filled with trees and shrubbery ingeniously devised to -assure many a secluded nook, and steaming garçons are flying hither and -thither serving foaming bocks and colored syrups to nymphs in bicycle -bloomers, longhaired students under tam o'shanters, and the swells -peculiar to le Quartier Latin. - -"_Ah! Monsieur Beeshop, comment vas tu?_" - -"_Tiens! le voilà, Beeshop!_" - -"_Ah, mon ange!_" and other affectionate greetings made Bishop start -guiltily, and then he discovered Hélène and Marcelle, two saucy little -models who had posed at the École. There also was Fannie, formerly -(before she drifted to the _café_s) our blanchisseuse, leaning heavily -upon the arm of son amant, who, a butcher-boy during the day, was now -arrayed in a cutaway coat and other things to match, including a red -cravat that Fannie herself had tied; but he wore no cuffs. Many -other acquaintances presented themselves to Bishop, somewhat to his -embarrassment. One, quite a swell member of the demi-monde, for a -moment deserted her infatuated companion, a gigantic Martinique negro, -gorgeously apparelled, and ran up to tease Bishop to paint her portrait -à l'oil, and also to engage him for la prochaine valse. - -[Illustration: 0123] - -The musicians were now playing a schottische, but large circles would -be formed here and there in the hall, where clever exhibitions of fancy -dancing would be given by students and by fashionably gowned damsels -with a penchant for displaying their lingerie and hosiery. The front of -the band-stand was the favorite place for this. Here four dashing young -women were raising a whirlwind of lingerie and slippers, while the crowd -applauded and tossed sous at their feet. - -Next to us stood a fat, cheery-faced little man, bearing the -unmistakable stamp of an American tourist. His hands were in his -pockets, his silk hat was tipped back, and his beaming red face -and bulging eyes showed the intensity of his enjoyment. Without the -slightest warning the slippered foot of one of these dancers found his -shining tile and sent it bounding across the floor. For a moment the -American was dazed by the suddenness and unearthly neatness of the -feat; then he emitted a whoop of wonder and admiration, and in English -exclaimed,--"You gol-darned bunch of French skirts--say, you're all -right, you are, Marie! Bet you can't do it again!" - -He confided to Bishop that his name was Pugson and that he was from -Cincinnati. - -"Why," he exclaimed, joyously, "Paris is the top of the earth! -You artists are an enviable lot, living over here all the time and -painting-- Gad! look at her!" and he was pushing his way through the -crowd to get a better view of an uncommonly startling dancer, who was at -the moment an indeterminate fluffy bunch of skirts, linen, and hosiery. -Ah, what tales he will tell of Paris when he returns to Cincinnati, and -how he will be accused of exaggerating! - -The four girls forming the centre of attraction were now doing all -manner of astonishing things possible only to Parisian feminine anatomy. -In another circle near by was Johnson, the American architect, stirring -enthusiastic applause as he hopped about, Indian fashion, with a little -brunette whose face was hidden in the shadow of her immense hat, her -hair en bandeau, à la de Mérode. Could this really be the quiet Johnson -of the Ecole, who but a week ago had been showing his mother and -charming sister over Paris? And there, too, was his close friend, -Walden, of Michigan, leading a heavy blonde to the dance! There were -others whom we knew. The little Siamese was flirting desperately with a -vision in white standing near his friend, a Japanese, who, in turn, was -listening to the cooing of a clinging bloomer girl. Even Haidor, the -Turk, was there, but he was alone in the gallery. Many sober fellows -whom I had met at the studio were there, but they were sober now only in -the sense that they were not drunk. And there were law students, too, in -velveteen caps and jackets, and students in the sciences, and students -in music, and négligé poets, littérateurs, and artists, and every model -and cocotte who could furnish her back sufficiently well to pass the -censorship of the severe critic at the door. If she be attractively -dressed, she may enter free; if not, she may not enter at all. - -[Illustration: 0125] - -The gayety increased as the hours lengthened; the dancing was livelier, -the shouting was more vociferous, skirts swirled more freely, and thin -glasses fell crashing to the floor. - -It was pleasanter out in the cool garden, for it was dreadfully hard -to keep from dancing inside. The soft gleam of the colored lamps and -lanterns was soothing, and the music was softened down to an echo. The -broken rays of the lanterns embedded in the foliage laid bright patterns -on the showy silks of the women, and the garçons made no noise as they -flitted swiftly through the mazes of shrubbery. - -At one end of the garden, surrounded by an hilarious group, were four -wooden rocking-horses worked on springs. 'Astride of two of these were -an army officer and his companion, a bloomer girl, who persistently -twisted her ankles round her horse's head. The two others were ridden -by a poet and a jauntily attired gri-sette. The four were as gleeful as -children. - -[Illustration: 9128] - -A flash-light photographer did a driving trade at a franc a flash, -and there were a shooting-gallery, a fortune-teller, sou-in-the-slot -machines, and wooden figures of negroes with pads on their other ends, -by punching which we might see how hard we could hit. - -We are back in the ball-room again,--it is hard to keep out. The gayety -is at its height, the Bal Bullier is in full swing. The tables are piled -high with saucers, and the garçons are bringing more. The room is warm -and suffocating, the dancing and flirting faster than ever. Now and then -a line is formed to "crack the whip," and woe betide anything that comes -in its way! - -[Illustration: 0131] - -Our genial, generous new friend from Cincinnati was living the most -glorious hour of his life. He had not been satisfied until he found and -captured the saucy little wretch who had sent his hat spinning across -the room; so now she was anchored to him, and he was giving exhibitions -of American grace and agility that would have amazed his friends at -home. For obviously he was a person of consequence there. When he saw -us his face beamed with triumph, and he proudly introduced us to -his mignonette-scented conquest, Mad-dem-mo-zel Madeleine (which he -pronounced Madelyne), "the queen of the Latin Quarter. But blamed if I -can talk the blooming lingo!" he exclaimed, ruefully. "You translate for -me, won't you?" he appealed to Bishop, and Bishop complied. In paying -compliments thus transmitted to Madeleine he displayed an adeptness -that likely would have astounded his good spouse, who at that moment was -slumbering in a respectable part of Paris. - -But the big black Martinique negroes,--they haunted and dominated -everything, and the demimonde fell down and worshipped them. They -are students of law and medicine, and are sent hither from the French -colonies by the government, or come on their private means. - -[Illustration: 0132] - -They are all heavy swells, as only negroes can be; their well-fitted -clothes are of the finest and most showy material; they wear shining -silk hats, white waistcoats, white "spats," patent leathers, and very -light kid gloves, not to mention a load of massive jewelry. The girls -flutter about them in bevies, like doves to be fed. - -At exactly a quarter-past midnight the band played the last piece, the -lights began to go out, and the Bal Bullier was closed. - -Out into the boulevard surged the heated crowd, shouting, singing, and -cutting capers as they headed for the Boul' Mich', there to continue the -revelries of which the Bal Bullier was only the beginning. "A la Taverne -du Panthéon!" "Au Café Lorrain!" "Au Café d'Harcourt!" were the cries -that range through the streets, mingled with the singing of half a -thousand people. - -[Illustration: 0133] - -In this mob we again encountered our American acquaintance with his -prize, and as he was bent on seeing all that he could of Paris, he -begged us to see him through, explaining that money was no object with -him, though delicately adding that our friends must make so many calls -upon our hospitality as to prove a burden at times. He had only two days -more in Paris, and the hours were precious, and "we will do things up in -style," he declared buoyantly. He did. - -Bishop's arm was securely held by a little lassie all in soft creamy -silks. She spoke Engleesh, and demurely asked Bishop if "we will go to -ze _café_ ensemble, n'est-ce-pas?" and Bishop had not the heart to eject -her from the party. And so five of us went skipping along with the rest, -Mr. Pugson swearing by all the gods that Paris was the top of the earth! - -When we reached the lower end of the Jardin du Luxembourg, at the old -Palais, the bright glow of the _café_s, with their warm stained windows -and lighthearted throngs, stretched away before us. Ah, le Boul' Mich' -never sleeps! There are still the laughing grisettes, the singing and -dancing students, the kiosks all aglow; the marchand de marrons is -roasting his chestnuts over a charcoal brazier, sending out a savory -aroma; the swarthy Turk is offering his wares with a princely grace; -the flower-girls flit about with freshly cut carnations, violets, and -Maréchal Niel roses,--"This joli bouquet for your sweetheart," they -plead so plaintively; the pipe man plies his trade; the cane man mobs -us, and the sellers of the last editions of the papers cry their wares. - -[Illustration: 9134] - -An old pedler works in and out among the _café_ tables with a little -basket of olives, deux pour un sou. The crawfish seller, with his little -red écrevisses neatly arranged on a platter; Italian boys in white -blouses bearing baskets filled with plaster casts of works of the old -masters gewgaw pedlers,--they are still all busily at work, each adding -his mite to the din. - -The _café_s are packed, both inside and out, but the favorite seats are -those on the sidewalk under the awnings. - -[Illustration: 0135] - -We halted at the Café d'Harcourt. Here the crowd was thickest, the -sidewalk a solid mass of humanity; and the noise and the waiters as they -yelled their orders, they were there. And des femmes--how many! The Café -d'Harcourt is the head-quarters of these wonderful creations of clothes, -paint, wicked eyes, and graceful carriage. We worked our way into the -interior. Here the crowd was almost as dense as without, but a chance -offered us a vacant table; no sooner had we captured it than we were -compelled to retreat, because of a battle that two excited demoiselles -were having at an adjoining table. In another part of the room there was -singing of "Les sergents sont des brave gens," and in the middle of the -floor a petite cocotte, her hat rakishly pulled down over her eyes, was -doing a dance very gracefully, her white legs gleaming above the -short socks that she wore, and a shockingly high kick punctuating the -performance at intervals. - -[Illustration: 0137] - -At other tables were seated students with their friends and mistresses, -playing dominoes or recounting their petites histoires. One table drew -much attention by reason of a contest in drinking between two seasoned -habitués, one a Martinique negro and the other a delicate blond poet. -The negro won, but that was only because his purse was the longer. - -Every consommation is served with a saucer, upon which is marked the -price of the drink, and the score is thus footed à la fin de ces joies. -There are some heavy accounts to be settled with the garçons. - -"_Ah! voilà Beeshop!" "Tiens! mon vieux!" "Comment vas-tu?_" clamored -a half-dozen of Bishop's feminine acquaintances, as they surrounded our -table, overwhelming us with their conflicting perfumes. - -[Illustration: 0139] - -These denizens of the Boul' have an easy way of making acquaintances, -but they are so bright and mischievous withal that no offence can be -taken; and they may have a stack of saucers to be paid for. Among the -many _café_ frequenters of this class fully half know a few words -of English, Italian, German, and even Russian, and are so quick of -perception that they can identify a foreigner at a glance. Consequently -our table was instantly a target, principally on account of Mr. Pugson, -whose nationality emanated from his every pore. - -[Illustration: 0141] - -"Ah, milord, how do you do? I spik Engleesh a few. Es eet not verra -a beautiful night?" is what he got. "You are si charmant, monsieur!" -protested another, stroking Bishop's Valasquez beard; and then, archly -and coaxingly, "_Qu'est-ce que vous m'offrez, monsieur? Payez-moi un -bock?_ Yes?" Mr. Pugson made the garçons start. He ordered "everything -and the best in the house" (in English); but it was the lordliness of -his manner that told, as he leaned back in his chair and smoked his -Londrès and eyed Madeleine with intense satisfaction. In the eyes of -the beholders that action gave him the unmistakable stamp of an American -millionaire. "Tell you, boys," he puffed, "I'm not going to forget Paree -in a hurry." And Mademoiselle Madeleine, how she revelled! Mr. Pugson -bought her everything that the venders had to sell, besides, for -himself, a wretched plaster cast of a dancing-girl that he declared was -"dead swell." - -"I'll take it home and startle the natives," he added; but he didn't, -as we shall see later. Then he bought three big canes as souvenirs for -friends, besides a bicycle lamp, a mammoth pipe, and other things. A -hungry-looking sketch artist who presented himself was engaged on the -spot to execute Mr. Pugson's portrait, which he made so flattering as to -receive five francs instead of one, his price. - -At a neighboring table occupied by a group of students was Bi-Bi-dans- -la-Purée, one of the most famous characters of the Quartier and -Montmartre. With hilarious laughter the students were having fun with -Bi-Bi by pouring the contents of their soup-plates and drinking-glasses -down his back and upon his sparsely covered head; but what made them -laugh more was Bi-Bi's wonderful skill in pulling grotesque faces. In -that line he was an artist. His cavernous eyes and large, loose mouth -did marvellous things, from the ridiculous to the terrible; and he could -literally laugh from ear to ear. Poor Bi-Bi-dans-la-Purée! - -[Illustration: 0143] - -He had been a constant companion of the great Verlaine, but was that no -more, since Verlaine had died and left him utterly alone. You may see -him any day wandering aimlessly about the Quartier, wholly oblivious to -the world about him, and dreaming doubtless of the great dead poet of -the slums, who had loved him. - -Here comes old Madame Carrot, a weazened little hunchback, anywhere -between sixty and a hundred years of age. She is nearly blind, and her -tattered clothes hang in strips from her wreck of a form. A few thin -strands of gray hair are all that cover her head. - -"_Bon soir, Mère Carrot! ma petite mignonne, viens donc qu'on -t'embrasse! Où sont tes ailes?_" and other mocking jests greet her as -she creeps among the tables. But Mère Carrot scorns to beg: she would -earn her money. Look! With a shadowy remnant of grace she picks up the -hem of her ragged skirt, and with a heart-breaking smile that discloses -her toothless gums, she skips about in a dance that sends her audience -into shrieks of laughter, and no end of sous are flung at her feet. She -will sing, too, and caricature herself, and make pitiful attempts at -high kicking and anything else that she is called upon to do for the -sous that the students throw so recklessly. There are those who say that -she is rich. - -In the rear end of the _café_ the demoiselle who had anchored herself -to the Martinique negro at the Bal Bullier was on a table kicking the -negro's hat, which he held at arm's length while he stood on a chair. -"_Plus haut! plus haut encore!_" she cried; but each time, as he kept -raising it, she tipped it with her dainty slipper; and then, with a -magnificent bound, she dislodged with her toe one of the chandelier -globes, which went crashing with a great noise to the floor; and then -she plunged down and sought refuge in her adorer's arms. - -The night's excitement has reached its height now. There is a dizzy -whirl of skirts, feathers, "plug" hats, and silken stockings; and there -is dancing on the tables, with a smashing of glass, while lumps of sugar -soaked in cognac are thrown about. A single-file march round the room is -started, each dragging a chair and all singing, "_Oh, la pauvre fille, -elle est malade!_" Mr. Pugson, tightly clutching his canes and his -Dancing-Girl, joins the procession, his shiny hat reposing on the pretty -head of Mademoiselle Madeleine. But his heart almost breaks with regret -because he cannot speak French. - -I began to remonstrate with Bishop for his own unseemly levity, but the -gloved hand of Mademoiselle Madeleine was laid on my lips, and her own -red lips protested, "_Taisez-vous donc! c'est absolument inexcusable de -nous faire des sermons en ce moment! En avant!_" And we went. - -It was two o'clock, and the _café_s were closing, under the municipal -regulation to do so at that hour, and the Boul' was swarming with -revellers turned out of doors. - -At the corner of the Rue Racine stands a small boulangerie, where some -of the revellers were beating on the iron shutters and crying, "_Voilà -du bon fromage au lait!_" impatient at the tardiness of the fat baker -in opening his shop; for the odor of hot rolls and croissants came up -through the iron gratings of the kitchen, and the big cans of fresh milk -at the door gave further comforting assurances. - -Lumbering slowly down the Boul' were ponderous carts piled high with -vegetables, on their way to the great markets of Paris, the Halles -Centrales. The drivers, half asleep on the top, were greeted with -demands for transportation, and a lively bidding for passengers arose -among them. They charged five sous a head, or as much more as they could -get, and soon the carts were carrying as many passengers as could find a -safe perch on the heaped vegetables. - -"_Aux Halles! aux Halles! nous allons aux Halles! Oh, la, la, comme -ils sont bons, les choux et les potirons!_" were the cries as the carts -lumbered on toward the markets. - -Mr. Pugson had positively refused to accept our resignation, and stoutly -reminded us of our promise to see him through. So our party arranged -with a masculine woman in a man's coat on payment of a franc a head, and -we clambered upon her neatly piled load of carrots. Mr. Pugson, becoming -impatient at the slow progress of the big Normandy horses, began to pelt -them with carrots. The market-woman protested vigorously at this waste -of her property, and told Mr. Pugson that she would charge him two sous -apiece for each subsequent carrot. He seized upon the bargain with true -American readiness, and then flung carrots to his heart's content, the -driver meanwhile keeping count in a loud and menacing voice. It was a -new source of fun for the irrepressible and endlessly jovial American. - -Along the now quiet boulevard the carts trundled in a string. All at -once there burst from them all an eruption of song and laughter, which -brought out numerous gendarmes from the shadows. But when they saw the -crowd they said nothing but "_Les étudiants_," and retreated to the -shadows. - -As we were crossing the Pont-au-Change, opposite the Place du Châtelet, -with its graceful column touched by the shimmering lights of the Seine, -and dominated by the towers of Notre-Dame, Mr. Pugson, in trying to hurl -two carrots at once, incautiously released his hold upon the Dancing- -Girl, which incontinently rolled off the vegetables and was shattered -into a thousand fragments on the pavement of the bridge--along with Mr. -Pugson's heart. After a moment of silent misery he started to throw the -whole load of carrots into the river, but he quickly regained command -of himself. For the first time, however, his wonderful spirits were -dampened, and he was as moody and cross as a child, refusing to be -comforted even by Madeleine's cooing voice. - -The number of carts that we now encountered converging from many -quarters warned us that we were very near the markets. Then rose the -subdued noise that night-workers make. There seemed to be no end of the -laden carts. The great Halles then came into view, with their cold glare -of electric lights, and thousands of people moving about with baskets -upon their backs, unloading the vegetable carts and piling the -contents along the streets. The thoroughfares were literally walled and -fortressed with carrots, cabbages, pumpkins, and the like, piled in neat -rows as high as our heads for square after square. Is it possible for -Paris to consume all of this in a day? - -Every few yards were fat women seated before steaming cans of hot potage -and _café_ noir, with rows of generous white bowls, which they would -fill for a sou. - -Not alone were the market workers here, for it seemed as though the -Boul' Mich' had merely taken an adjournment after the law had closed its -portals and turned it out of doors. The workers were silent and busy, -but largely interspersed among them were the demi-mondaines and the -singing and dancing students of the Quartier, all as full of life and -deviltry as ever. It was with these tireless revellers that the soup- -and coffee-women did their most thriving business, for fun brings a good -appetite, and the soup and coffee were good; but better still was -this unconventional, lawless, defiant way of taking them. Mr. Pugson's -spirits regained their vivacity under the spell, and he was so -enthusiastic that he wanted to buy out one of the pleasant-faced fat -women; we had to drag him bodily away to avert the catastrophe. - -In the side streets leading away from the markets are _café_s and -restaurants almost without number, and they are open toute la nuit, to -accommodate the market people, having a special permit to do so; but -as they are open to all, the revellers from all parts of Paris assemble -there after they have been turned out of the boulevard _café_s at two -o'clock. It is not an uncommon thing early of a Sunday morning to see -crowds of merry-makers from a bal masqué finishing the night here, all -in costume, dancing and playing ring-around-a-rosy among the stacks of -vegetables and the unheeding market people. Indeed, it is quite a common -thing to end one's night's frivolity at the Halles and their _café_s, -and take the first 'buses home in the early morning. - -The contingent from the Boul' Mich', after assisting the market people -to unload, and indulging in all sorts of pranks, invaded the élite -_café_s, among them the _Café Barrette, Au Veau Qui Tête, Au Chien Qui -Fume, and Le Caveau du Cercle._ - -[Illustration: 0149] - -At this last-named place, singing and recitations with music were in -order, a small platform at one end of the room being reserved for -the piano and the performers. Part of the audience were in masquerade -costume, having come from a ball at Montmartre, and they lustily joined -the choruses. Prices are gilt-edged here,--a franc a drink, and not less -than ten sous to the garçon. - -The contrast between the fluffy and silk-gowned demi-mondaines and -the dirty, roughly clad market people was very striking at the Café -Barrette. There the women sit in graceful poses, or saunter about and -give evidence of their style, silk gowns, India laces, and handsome -furs, greeting each new-comer with pleas for a sandwich or a bock; they -are always hungry and thirsty, but they get a commission on all sales -that they promote. A small string orchestra gave lively music, and took -up collections between performances. The array of gilt-framed mirrors -heightened the brilliancy of the place, already sufficiently aglow with -many electric lights. The Café Barrette is the last stand of the gaudy -women of the boulevards. With the first gray gleam of dawn they pass -with the night to which they belong. - -It was with sincere feeling that Mr. Pugson bade us good-by at five -o'clock that morning as he jumped into a cab to join his good spouse at -the Hôtel Continental; but he bore triumphantly with him some sketches -of the showy women at the Café Barrette, which Bishop had made. - -As for Madeleine, so tremendously liberal had she found Mr. Pugson that -her protestations of affection for him were voluble and earnest. She -pressed her card upon him and made him swear that he would find her -again. After we had bidden her good-night, Mr. Pugson drew the card -from his pocket, and thoughtfully remarked, as he tore it to pieces,--"I -don't think it is prudent to carry such things in your pocket." - -[0152] - - - - -BOHEMIAN CAFÉS - - -[Illustration: 0153] - - -VERY often, instead of having dinner at the studio, we saunter over -to the Maison Dar-blay, passing the wall of the dismal Cimetière du -Montparnasse on the way. The Maison Darblay is in the little Rue de -la Gaieté, which, though only a block in length, is undoubtedly the -liveliest thoroughfare in the Quartier. That is because it serves as a -funnel between the Avenue du Maine and five streets that converge into -it at the upper end. Particularly in the early evening the little street -is crowded with people returning from their work. All sorts of boutiques -are packed into this minute thoroughfare,---jewelry-shops, pork-shops, -kitchens (where they cook what you bring while you wait on the -sidewalk), theatres, _cafés chantants_, fried-potato stalls, snail -merchants, moving vegetable- and fruit-markets, and everything else. - -In the middle of the block, on the western side, between a millinery- -shop and a butcher-shop, stands the Maison Darblay, famous for its beans -and its patrons. A modest white front, curtained windows, and a row of -milk-cans give little hint of the charms of the interior. Upon entering -we encounter the vast M. Darblay seated behind a tiny counter, upon -which are heaped a pile of freshly ironed napkins, parcels of chocolate, -a big dish of apple-sauce, rows of bottles containing bitters that work -miracles with ailing appetites, and the tip-box. Reflecting M. Darblay's -beamy back and the clock on the opposite wall (which is always fifteen -minutes fast) hangs a long mirror resplendent in heavy gilt frame; it -is the pride of the establishment, and affords comfort to the actresses -when they adjust their hats and veils upon leaving. - -[Illustration: 9154] - -M. Darblay is manager of the establishment, and when it is reflected -that he weighs two hundred and sixty pounds, it may be imagined what -accurate adjustments he has to make in fitting himself behind the small -counter. When a boarder finishes his meal he goes to M. Darblay and -tells him what he has had, including napkin and bread, and M. Darblay -scores it all down on a slate with chalk and foots it up. After the bill -is paid, the tip-box is supposed by a current fiction to receive two -sous for Marie and Augustine, the buxom Breton maidens who serve the -tables; but so rarely does the fiction materialize that, when the rattle -of coins is heard in the box, the boarders all look up wonderingly to -see the possible millionaire that has appeared among them, and Marie and -Augustine shout at the top of their voices, "Merci bien, monsieur!" - -[Illustration: 8155] - -At the opposite end of the room, in full view, is the cuisine, with its -big range and ruddy fires. Here Madame Darblay reigns queen, her genial, -motherly red face and bright eyes beaming a welcome to all. She is from -Lausanne, on Lake Geneva, Switzerland, and the independent blood of -her race rarely fails its offices when M. Darblay incautiously seeks -to interfere with her duties and prerogatives, for he retreats under -an appalling volley of French from his otherwise genial spouse; on such -occasions he seeks his own corner as rapidly as he can manage his bulk -to that purpose. She is a famous cook. The memory of her poulets rôtis -and juicy gigots will last forever. But greatest of all are her haricots -blancs, cooked au beurre; it is at the shrine of her beans that her -devoted followers worship. - -And her wonderful wisdom! She knows intuitively if you are out of sorts -or have an uncertain appetite, and without a hint she will prepare a -delicacy that no epicure could resist. She knows every little whim and -peculiarity of her boarders, and caters to them accordingly. The steaks -and chops are bought at the shop next door just when they are ordered, -and are always fresh. - -There are eight marble-top tables lining the two walls, and each table -is held sacred to its proper occupants, and likewise are the numbered -hooks and napkins. An invasion of these preserves is a breech of -etiquette intolerable in Bohemia. - -Even the white cat is an essential part of the establishment, for it -purringly welcomes the patrons and chases out stray dogs. - -Situated as it is, in a group of three theatres and several _café_s -chantants, it is the rendezvous of the actors and actresses of the -neighborhood. They hold the three tables but one from the kitchen, on -one side, and they are a jolly crowd, the actresses particularly. - -[Illustration: 0157] - -They are a part of the Quartier and echo its spirit. Although full of -mischief and fun, the actresses would never be suspected of singing -the naughty songs that so delight the gallery gods and so often wring -a murmur of protest from the pit. There are ten who dine here, but from -their incessant chatter and laughter you would think them twenty. On -Friday evenings, when the songs and plays are changed, they rehearse -their pieces at dinner. - -[Illustration: 0159] - -Bishop is openly fond of Mademoiselle Brunerye, a sparkling little -brunette singer, who scolds him tragically for drawing horrible -caricatures of her when he sits before the footlights to hear her sing. -But it is always she that begins the trouble at the theatre. If Bishop -is there, she is sure to see him and to interpolate something in her -song about "_mon amant Américain_," and sing it pointedly at him, to the -amusement of the audience and his great discomfiture; and so he retorts -with the caricatures. - -Upon entering the restaurant the actresses remove their hats and wraps -and make themselves perfectly at home. They are the life of Darblay's; -we couldn't possibly spare them. - -One of the actors is a great swell,--M. Fontaine, leading man at the -Théâtre du Montparnasse, opposite. - -[Illustration: 9160] - -His salary is a hundred francs a week; this makes the smaller actors -look up to him, and enables him to wear a very long coat, besides -gloves, patent-leather shoes, and a shiny top-hat. He occupies the place -of honor, and Marie smiles when she serves him, and gives him a good -measure of wine. He rewards this attention by depositing two sous in the -tip-box every Friday night. Then there are M. Marius, M. Zecca, and -M. Dufauj who make people scream with laughter at the Gaieté, and M. -Coppée, the heavy villain of the terrible eyes in "Les Deux Gosses," and -Mademoiselle Walzy, whose dark eyes sparkle mischief as she peeps -over her glass, and Mademoiselle Minion, who kicks shockingly high -to accentuate her songs, and eight other actresses just as saucy and -pretty. - -The students of the Quartier practically take charge of the theatres -on Saturday nights, and as they are very free with their expressions of -approval or disapproval, the faces of the stage-people wear an anxious -look at the restaurant on that evening. The students will throw the -whole theatre into an uproar with hisses that drive an actor off the -stage, or applause, recalls, and the throwing of two-sous bouquets and -kisses to an actress who has made a hit. - -Promptly at six-forty-five every night the venerable M. Corneau enters -Darblay's, bringing a copy of _Le Journal_. He is extremely methodical, -so that any interruption of his established routine upsets him badly. -One evening he found a stranger in his seat, occupying the identical -chair that had been sacred to his use every evening for six years. -M. Corneau was so astonished that he hung his hat on the wrong hook, -stepped on the cat's tail, sulked in a corner, and refused to eat until -his seat had been vacated, and then he looked as though he wished it -could be fumigated. He has a very simple meal. One evening he invited -me--a rare distinction--to his room, which was in the top floor of one -of those quaint old buildings in the Rue du Moulin de Beurre. It could -then be seen what a devoted scientist and student he was. His room -was packed with books, chemicals, mineral specimens, and scientific -instruments. He was very genial, and brewed excellent tea over an -alcohol-stove of his own manufacture. Twenty years ago he was a -professor at the Ecole des Mines, where he had served many years; but -he had now grown too old for that, and was living his quiet, studious, -laborious life on a meagre pension. - -At one table sit a sculptor, an artist, and a blind musician and his -wife. The sculptor is slender, delicate, and nervous, and is continually -rolling and smoking cigarettes. His blond hair falls in ringlets over -his collar, and he looks more the poet than the sculptor, for he is -dreamy and distrait, and seems to be looking within himself rather than -upon the world about him. Augustine serves him with an absinthe Pernod -au sucre, which he slowly sips while he smokes several cigarettes before -he is ready for his dinner. - -[Illustration: 0162] - -The artist is his opposite,--a big, bluff, hearty fellow, loud of voice -and full of life. And he is successful, for he has received a medal and -several honorable mentions at the Salon des Champs-Élysées, and has a -fine twilight effect in the Luxembourg Gallery. After dinner he and M. -Darblay play piquet for the coffee, and M. Darblay is generally loser. - -[Illustration: 0163] - -The blind musician is a kindly old man with a benevolent face and a -jovial spirit. He is the head professor of music at the Institution des -Aveugles, on the Boulevard des Invalides. His wife is very attentive to -him, taking his hat and cane, tucking his napkin under his chin, placing -the dishes where he knows how to find them, and reading the papers to -him. He knows where everybody sits, and he addresses each by name, and -passes many brisk sallies about the room. - -One poet is vivacious, not at all like the dreamy species to which he -belongs. True, he wears long hair and a Quartier Latin "plug," but his -eyes are not vague, and he is immensely fond of Madame Darblay's beans, -of which he has been known to stow away five platefuls at a meal. Often -he brings in a copy of _Gil Bias_, containing a poem by himself in the -middle of the page and with illustrations by Steinlen. - -A strange, solitary figure used to sit in one corner, speaking to no -one, and never ordering more than a bowl of chocolate and two sous of -bread. It was known merely that he was an Hungarian and an artist, and -from his patched and frayed clothes and meagre fare it was surmised that -he was poor. But he had a wonderful face. Want was plainly stamped upon -it, but behind it shone a determination and a hope that nothing could -repress. There was not a soul among the boarders but that would have -been glad to assist in easing whatever burden sat upon him, and no doubt -it was his suspicion of that fact and his dread of its manifestation -that made him hold absolutely aloof. Madame Darblay once or twice made -efforts to get nearer to him, but he gently and firmly repulsed her. -He was a pitiable figure, but his pride was invincible, and with eyes -looking straight forward, he held up his head and walked like a king. He -came and went as a shadow. - -None knew where he had a room. There were many stories and conjectures -about him, but he wrapped his mantle of mystery and solitude about -him and was wholly inaccessible. It was clear to see that he lived in -another world,--a world of hopes, filled with bright images of peace and -renown. After a time his seat became vacant, and I shall presently tell -how it happened. - -These will suffice as types of the Maison Darblay, though I might -mention old M. Decamp, eighty-four years of age, and as hearty and -jovial a man as one would care to see. In his younger days he had been -an actor, having had a fame during the Empire of Napoléon III. And there -were a professor of languages, who gave lessons at fifteen sous an hour, -a journalist of the _Figaro_, and two pretty milliner girls from the -shop next door. - -The great event at the Maison Darblay came not long ago, when M. -Darblay's two charming daughters had a double wedding, each with -a comfortable dot, for M. Darblay had grown quite rich out of his -restaurant, owning several new houses. The girls were married -twice,--once at the Mairie on the Rue Gassendi, and again at the Eglise -St. Pierre, on the Avenue du Maine. Then came the great wedding-dinner -at the Maison Darblay, to which all the boarders were invited. The -tables were all connected, so as to make two long rows. The bridal-party -were seated at the end next the kitchen, and the front door was locked -to exclude strangers. M. Darblay was elegant in a new dress suit and -white shirt, but his tailor, in trying to give him a trim figure, made -the situation embarrassing, as M. Darblay's girth steadily increased -during the progress of the banquet. He made a very fine speech, which -was uproariously cheered. - -[Illustration: 9166] - -Madame Darblay was remarkably handsome in a red satin gown, and bore so -distinguished an air, and looked so transformed from her usual kitchen -appearance, that we could only marvel and admire. Then came the kissing -of the brides, a duty that was performed most heartily. Madame Darblay -was very happy and proud, and her dinner was a triumph to have lived -for. - -Bishop sat opposite the wicked Mademoiselle Brunerye, and he and she -made violent love, and behaved with conspicuous lack of dignity. M. -Fontaine, the great, had one of the chic milliners for partner. Old M. -Decamp told some racy stories of the old régime. When the coffee and -liqueurs came on, the big artist brought out a guitar and the poet -a mandolin, and we had music. Then the poet read a poem that he had -written for the occasion. The actresses sang their sprightliest songs. -Mademoiselle Brunerye sang "_Ça fait toujours plaisir_" to Bishop. M. -Fontaine gave in a dramatic manner a scene from "_Les Deux Gosses_," the -heavy villain assisting, the cook's aprons and towels serving to -make the costumes. Bishop sang "Down on the Farm." In short, it was a -splendid evening in Bohemia, of a kind that Bohemians enjoy and know how -to make the most of. - -[Illustration: 0167] - -There was one silent guest, the strange young Hungarian artist. He ate -with a ravenous appetite, openly and unashamed. After he had had his -fill (and Madame Darblay saw to it that he found his plate always -replenished), he smiled occasionally at the bright sallies of the other -guests, but for the most part he sat constrained, and would speak only -when addressed,--he protested that his French was too imperfect. It -was so evident that he wished to escape notice entirely that no serious -effort was made to draw him out. - -That was a hard winter. A few weeks after the wedding the Hungarian's -visits to the Maison Dar-blay suddenly ceased. The haunted look had been -deepening in his eyes, his gaunt cheeks had grown thinner, and he looked -like a hunted man. After his disappearance the gendarmes came to the -restaurant to make inquiries about him. Bishop and I were present. They -wanted to know if the young man had any friends there. We told them that -we would be his friends. - -"Then you will take charge of his body?" they asked. - -We followed them to the Rue Perceval, where they turned us over to the -concierge of an old building. She was very glad we had come, as the lad -seemed not to have had a friend in the world. She led us up to the sixth -floor, and then pointed to a ladder leading up to the roof. We ascended -it, and found a box built on the roof. It gave a splendid view of Paris. -The door of the box was closed. We opened it, and the young artist lay -before us dead. There were two articles of furniture in the room. One -was the bare mattress on the floor, upon which he lay, and the other was -an old dresser, from which some of the drawers were missing. The young -man lay drawn up, fully dressed, his coat-collar turned up about his -ears. Thus he had fallen asleep, and thus hunger and cold had slain -him as he slept. There was one thing else in the room, all besides, -including the stove and the bed-covering, having gone for the purchase -of painting material. It was an unfinished oil-painting of the -Crucifixion. Had he lived to finish it, I am sure it would have made him -famous, if for nothing else than the wonderful expression of agony in -the Saviour's face, an agony infinitely worse than the physical pain of -the crucifixion could have produced. - -There was still one thing more,--a white rat that was, hunting -industriously for food, nibbling desiccated cheese-rinds that it found -on the shelves against the wall. It had been the artist's one friend and -companion in life. - -And all that, too, is a part of life in Bohemian Paris. - -On the Rue Marie, not far from the Gare Montparnasse, is the "Club," a -small and artistically dirty wine-shop and restaurant, patronized by -a select crowd of musketeers of the brush. The warm, dark tones of the -anciently papered walls are hidden beneath a cloud of oil sketches, -charcoal drawings, and caricatures of everything and everybody that the -fancies of the Bohemians could devise. Madame Annaie is mistress of the -establishment, and her cook, M. Annaie, wears his cap rakishly on one -side, and attends to his business; and he makes very good potages and -rôtis, considering the small prices that are charged. Yet even the -prices, though the main attraction, are paid with difficulty by a -majority of the habitués, who sometimes fall months in arrears. Madame -Annaie keeps a big book of accounts. - -Of the members of the club, four are Americans, two Spaniards, one an -Italian, one a Welshman, one a Pole, one a Turk, one a Swiss, and the -rest French,--just fifteen in all, and all sculptors and painters except -one of the Americans, who is correspondent of a New York paper. At -seven o'clock every evening the roll is called by the Pole, who acts as -president, secretary, and treasurer of the club. A fine of two sous is -imposed for every absence; this goes to the "smoker" fund. Joanskouie, -the multiple officer, has not many burdensome duties, but even these few -are a severe tax upon his highly nervous temperament. Besides collecting -the fines he must gather up also the dues, which are a franc a month. -All the members are black-listed, including the president himself, and -the names of the delinquents are posted on the wall. - -The marble-top tables are black with pencil sketches done at the expense -of Giles, the Welshman, who is the butt of the club. He is a very tall -and amazingly lean Welshman, with a bewhiskered face, a hooked nose, -and a frightful accent when he speaks either English or French. He is an -animal sculptor, but leaves his art carefully alone. He is very clever -at drawing horses, dogs, and funny cows all over the walls; but he is -so droll and stupid, so incredibly stupid, that "Giles" is the byword of -the club. Every month he receives a remittance of two hundred and fifty -francs, and immediately starts out to get the full worth of it in the -kinds of enjoyment that he finds on the Boul' Mich', where regularly -once a month he is a great favorite with the feminine habitués of the -_café_s. When his funds run low, he lies perdu till mid-day; then -he appears at Madame Annaie's, heavy-eyed and stupid, staying until -midnight. Sometimes he varies this routine by visiting his friends at -their studios, where he is made to pose in ridiculous attitudes. - -The "smoker" is held on the last Saturday night of each month, and all -the members are present. Long clay pipes are provided, and a big bowl -of steaming punch, highly seasoned, comes from Madame Annaie's kitchen. -Mutually laudatory speeches and toasts, playing musical instruments, -and singing songs are in order. The Spaniard, with castanets, skilfully -executes the fandango on a table. Bishop does the danse du ventre. -Joncierge gives marvellous imitations of Sarah Bernhardt and other -celebrities, including Giles, whose drawl and stupidity he makes -irresistibly funny. Nor do Gérôme, Bouguereau, and Benjamin Constant -escape his mimicry. Haidor, the Turk, drawls a Turkish song all out of -tune, and is rapturously encored. The Swiss and the Italian render a -terrific duo from "Aida," and the Spaniards sing the "Bullfighters' -Song" superbly. Sketches are dashed off continually. They are so clever -that it is a pity Madame Annaie has to wipe them from the tables. - -On Thanksgiving-day the Americans gave the club a Thanksgiving dinner. -It was a great mystery and novelty to the other members, but they -enjoyed it hugely. The turkeys were found without much trouble, but the -whole city had to be searched for cranberries. At last they were found -in a small grocery-shop in the American quarter, on the Avenue Wagram. -Bishop superintended the cooking, M. Annaie serving as first assistant. -How M. Annaie stared when he beheld the queer American mixtures that -Bishop was concocting! "Mon Dieu! Not sugar with meat!" he cried, -aghast, seeing Bishop serve the turkey with cranberry sauce. A dozen -delicious pumpkin-pies that formed part of the menu staggered the old -cook. The Italian cooked a pot of macaroni with mushroom sauce, and it -was superb. - -"The Hole in the Wall" eminently deserves its name. It is on the -Boulevard du Montparnasse, within two blocks of the Bal Bullier. A small -iron sign projecting over the door depicts two students looking down -at the passers-by over bowls of coffee, rolls also being shown. It was -painted by an Austrian student in payment of a month's board. - -The Hole is a tiny place, just sufficiently large for its two tables and -eight stools, fat Madame Morel, the proprietress, and a miniature zinc -bar filled with absinthe and cognac bottles and drinking glasses. - -The ceiling is so low that you must bend should you be very tall, for -overhead is the sleeping-room of Madame Morel and her niece; it is -reached by a small spiral stair. - -[Illustration: 0173] - -A narrow slit in the floor against the wall, where the napkin-box hangs, -leads down to the dark little kitchen. It is a tight squeeze for -Madame Morel to serve her customers, but she has infinite patience and -geniality, and discharges her numerous duties and bears her hardships -with unfailing good-nature. It is no easy task to cook a halfdozen -orders at once, wait on the tables, run out to the butcher-shop for a -chop or a steak, and take in the cash. But she does all this, and much -more, having no assistant. The old concierge next door, Madame Mariolde, -runs in to help her occasionally, when she can spare a moment from her -own multifarious duties. Madame Morel's toil-worn hands are not bien -propre, but she has a kind heart. For seven years she has lived in this -little Hole, and during that time has never been farther away than to -the grocery-shop on the opposite corner. - -Her niece leaves at seven o'clock in the morning to sew all day on the -other side of town, returning at eight at night, tired and listless, -but always with a half-sad smile. So we see little of her. Many nights -I have seen her come in drenched and cold, her faded straw hat limp and -askew, and her dark hair clinging to her wet face. For she has walked -in the rain all the way from the Avenue de l'Opéra, unable to afford -omnibus fare. She usually earns from two to two and half francs a day, -sewing twelve hours. - -The most interesting of the frequenters of the Hole is a Slav from -Trieste, on the Adriatic. He is a genius in his way, and full of energy -and business sense. His vocation is that of a "lightning-sketch artist," -performing at the theatres. He has travelled all over America and -Europe, and is thoroughly hardened to the ways of the world. Whenever -he runs out of money he goes up to the Rue de la Gaieté and gives -exhibitions for a week or two at one of the theatres there, receiving -from fifty to sixty francs a week. The students all go to see him, and -make such a noise and throw so many bouquets (which he returns for -the next night) that the theatrical managers, thinking he is a great -drawing-card, generally raise his salary as an inducement to make him -prolong his stay when he threatens to leave. - -But he is too thoroughly a Bohemian to remain long in a place. Last week -he suddenly was taken with a desire to visit Vienna. Soon after he had -gone four pretty Parisiennes called and wanted to know what had become -of their amant. - -D------, another of the habitués of the Hole, is a German musical -student. Strangers would likely think him mentally deranged, so odd is -his conduct. - -[Illustration: 8175] - -He has two other peculiarities,--extreme sensitiveness and indefatigable -industry. He brings his shabby violin-case every evening, takes out -his violin after dinner, and at once becomes wholly absorbed in his -practice. If he would play something more sprightly and pleasing -the other habitués of the Hole would not object; but he insists on -practising the dreariest, heaviest, and most wearing exercises, the most -difficult études, and the finest compositions of the masters. All this -is more than the others can bear with patience always; so they wound -his sensibilities by throwing bread and napkin-rings at him. I hen he -retires to the kitchen, where, sitting on the cooler end of the range, -he practises diligently under Madame Morel's benevolent protection. This -is all because he has never found a concierge willing to permit him to -study in his room, so tireless is his industry. If I do not mistake, -this strange young man will be heard from some day. - -Then there is W------, a student in sculpture, with exceptionally fine -talent. He had been an American cowboy, and no trooper could swear more -eloquently. He has been making headway, for the Salon has given him -honorable mention for a strong bronze group of fighting tigers. His -social specialty is poker-playing, and he has brought the entire Hole -under the spell of that magic game. - -Herr Prell, from Munich, takes delight in torturing the other habitués -with accounts of dissections, as he is a medical student at the Académie -de Médecine. The Swede, who drinks fourteen absinthes a day, throws -stools at Herr Prell, and tries in other ways to make him fight; but -Herr Prell only laughs, and gives another turn of the dissection-screw. - -The glee club is one of the features of the Hole. It sings every night, -but its supreme effort comes when one of the patrons of the Hole departs -for home. On such occasions the departing comrade has to stand the -dinner for all, after which, with its speeches and toasts, he is -escorted to the railway station with great éclat, and given a hearty -farewell, the glee club singing the parting song at the station. Bishop -is leading tenor of the glee club. - - - - -LE CABARET DU SOLEIL D'OR - - -IT is only the name of the Cabaret of the Golden Sun that suggests -the glorious luminary of day. And yet it is really brilliant in its own -queer way, though that brilliancy shines when all else in Paris is dark -and dead,--at night, and in the latest hours of the night at that. - -[Illustration: 8177] - -My acquaintance with the Golden Sun began one foggy night in a cold -November, under the guidance of Bishop. - -Lured by the fascinations of nocturnal life in the Quartier Latin, and -by its opportunities for the study of life in its strangest phases, -Bishop had become an habitual nighthawk, leaving the studio nearly every -evening about ten o'clock, after he had read a few hours from treasured -books gleaned from the stalls along the river, to prowl about with a -sketchbook, in quest of queer characters and queer places, where strange -lives were lived in the dark half of the day. His knowledge of obscure -retreats and their peculiar habitués seemed unlimited. And what an -infinite study they offer! The tourist, "doing" Bohemian Paris as he -would the famous art galleries, or Notre-Dame, or the Madeleine, or -the _café_s on the boulevards, may, under the guidance of a wise and -discerning student, visit one after another of these out-of-the-way -resorts where the endless tragedy of human life is working out its -mysteries; he may see that one place is dirtier or noisier than another, -that the men and women are better dressed and livelier here than there, -that the crowd is bigger, or the lights brighter; but he cannot see, -except in their meaningless outer aspects, those subtle differences -which constitute the heart of the matter. In distance it is not far from -the Moulin Rouge to the Cabaret du Soleil d'Or, but in descending from -the dazzling brilliancy and frothy abandon of the Red Mill to the smoke -and grime of the Golden Sun, we drop from the summit of the Tour Eiffel -to the rat-holes under the bridges of the Seine; and yet it is in such -as the Cabaret of the Golden Sun that the true student finds the deeper, -the more lastingly charming, the strangely saddening spell that lends to -the wonderful Quartier Latin its distinctive character and everlasting -fascination. - -Though Bishop spoke to me very little of his midnight adventures, I -being very busy with my own work, I began to have grave apprehensions -on the score of his tastes in that direction; for during the afternoons -ridiculous-looking, long-haired, but gentlemannered persons in shabby -attire, well-seasoned with the aroma of absinthe and cigarettes, would -favor our studio with a call, undoubtedly at Bishop's invitation. They -brought with them black portfolios or rolls of paper tied with black -string, containing verses,--their masterpieces, which were to startle -Paris, or new songs, which, God favoring, were to be sung at La Scala or -the Ambassadeurs, and thus bring them immortal fame and put abundant fat -upon their lean ribs! Ah, the deathless hope that makes hunger a welcome -companion here! - -Bishop would cleverly entertain these aspiring geniuses with shop talk -concerning literature and music, and he had a charming way of dwelling -upon the finish and subtlety of their work and comparing it with that -of the masters. It usually ended with their posing for him in different -attitudes of his suggesting. Why waste money on professional models? As -Bishop's acquaintances became more numerous among this class, we finally -set aside Tuesday afternoons for their reception. Then they would come -in generous numbers and enjoy themselves unreservedly with our cognac -and biscuits. But ah, the rare pleasures of those afternoons,--as much -for the good it did us to see their thin blood warmed with brandy and -food as for their delightful entertainment of us and one another. - -The studio was warm and cheerful on the night when Bishop invited me -to accompany him out. I had been at work, and presently, when I had -finished, I flung myself on the divan for a rest and a smoke, and then -became aware of Bishop's presence. He was comfortably ensconced in the -steamer-chair, propped up with pillows. - -"Aren't you going out to-night?" I inquired. - -"Why, yes. Let's see the time. A little after eleven. That's good. You -are finished, aren't you? Now, if you want a little recreation and wish -to see one of the queerest places in Paris, come with me." - -I looked out the window. A cold, dreary night it was. The chimney-pots -were dimmed by the thick mist, and the street lamps shone murkily far -below. It was a saddening, soaking, dripping night, still, melancholy, -and depressing,--the kind of night that lends a strange zest to in-door -enjoyment, as though it were a duty to keep the mist and the dreariness -out of the house and the heart. - -But the studio had worn me out, and I was eager to escape from its -pleasant coziness. And this was a Saturday night, which means something, -even in Paris. To-morrow there would be rest. So I cheerfully assented. - -We donned our heaviest top-coats and mufflers, crammed the stove full of -coal, and then sallied out into the dripping fog. - -Oh, but it was cold and dismal in the streets! The mist was no longer -the obscuring, suggestive, mysterious factor that it had been when seen -from the window, but was now a tangible and formidable thing, with a -manifest purpose. It struck through our wraps as though they had been -cheesecloth. It had swept the streets clear, for not a soul was to be -seen except a couple of sergents de ville, all hooded in capes, and -a cab that came rattling through the murk with horses a-steam. -Occasionally a flux of warm light from some _café_ would melt a tunnel -through the monotonous opaque haze, but the empty chairs and tables upon -the sidewalks facing the _café_s offered no invitation. - -[Illustration: 0181] - -In front of one of these _café_s, in a sheltered corner made by a glass -screen, sat a solitary young woman, dressed stylishly in black, the -light catching one of her dainty slippers perched coquettishly upon a -foot-rest. A large black hat, tilted wickedly down over her face, cast -her eyes in deep shadow and lent her that air of alluring mystery which -the women of her class know so well how to cultivate. Her neck and chin -were buried deep in the collar of her sealskin cape. A gleam of limp -white gauze at her throat lent a pleasing relief to the monotone of -her attire. Upon the table in front of her stood an empty glass and two -saucers. As we passed she peered at us from beneath her big hat, and -smiled coquettishly, revealing glistening white teeth. The atmosphere -of loneliness and desolation that encompassed her gave a singularly -pathetic character to her vigil. Thus she sat, a picture for an artist, -a text for a moralist, pretty, dainty, abandoned. It happened not to be -her fortune that her loneliness should be relieved by us.... But other -men might be coming afterwards.... All this at a glance through the cold -November fog. - -As we proceeded up the Boul' Mich' the _café_s grew more numerous and -passers-by more frequent, but all these were silent and in a hurry, -prodded on by the nipping cold fangs of the night. Among the tables -outside the _Café d'Harcourt_ crouched and prowled an old man, bundled -in ill-fitting rags, searching for remnants of cigars and cigarettes -on the sanded sidewalk. From his glittering eyes, full of suspicion, he -turned an angry glance upon us as we paused a moment to observe him, and -growled,--"_Allons, tu n' peux donc pas laisser un pauv' malheureux?_" - -Bishop tossed him a sou, which he greedily snatched without a word of -thanks. - -[Illustration: 8183] - -At the corner, under the gas-lamps, stood shivering newspaper venders -trying to sell their few remaining copies of la dernière édition de la -presse. Buyers were scarce. - -We had now reached the Place St.-Michel and the left bank of the river. -We turned to the right, following the river wall toward Notre-Dame, -whose towers were not discernible through the fog. - -Here there was an unbounded wilderness of desolation and solitude. The -black Seine flowed silently past dark masses that were resolved into big -canal-boats, with their sickly green lights reflected in the writhing -ink of the river. Notre-Dame now pushed its massive bulk through the -fog, but its towers were lost in the sky. Near by a few dim lights shone -forth through the slatted windows of the Morgue. But its lights never go -out. And how significantly close to the river it stands! Peering under -the arches of the bridges, we found some of the social dregs that sleep -there with the rats. It was not difficult to imagine the pretty girl in -black whom we had passed coming at last through dissipation and wrinkles -and broken health to take refuge with the rats under the bridges, and -it is a short step thence to the black waters of the river; and that the -scheme of the tragedy might be perfect in all its parts, adjustments, -and relations, behold the Morgue so near, with its lights that never go -out, and boatmen so skilled in dragging the river! And the old man who -was gathering the refuse and waste of smokers, it was not impossible -that he should find himself taking this route when his joints had grown -stiffer, though it would more likely end under the bridges. - -The streets are very narrow and crooked around Notre-Dame, and their -emanations are as various as the capacity of the human nose for evil -odors. The lamps, stuck into the walls of the houses, only make the -terrors of such a night more formidable; for while one may feel a -certain security in absolute darkness, the shadows to which the lamps -lend life have a baffling elusiveness and weirdness, and a habit of -movement that makes one instinctively dodge. But that is all the trick -of the wind. However that may be, it is wonderful how much more vividly -one remembers on such a night the stories of the murders, suicides, and -other crimes that lend a particular grewsomeness to the vicinity of the -Morgue and Notre-Dame. - -We again turned to the right, into a narrow, dirty street,--the Rue du -Haut-Pavé,--whose windings brought us into a similar street,--the Rue -Galande. Bishop halted in front of a low arched door-way, which blazed -sombrely in its coat of blood-red paint. A twisted gas-lamp, demoralized -and askew, depended overhead, and upon the glass enclosing it was -painted, with artistic flourishes,--"Au Soleil d'Or." - -This was the cabaret of the Golden Sun,--all unconscious of the mockery -of its name, another of those whimsical disjointings in which the -shadowy side of Paris is so prolific. From the interior of the luminary -came faintly the notes of a song, with piano accompaniment. - -The archway opened into a small court paved with ill-fitted flint -blocks. At the farther end of it another gas-lamp flickered at the head -of a flight of stairs leading underground. As we approached the steps a -woman sprang from the shadow, and with a cry, half of fear and half of -anger, fled to the street. At that moment memories of the cosiness -of our studio became doubly enticing,--one cannot always approach -unfamiliar underground Paris with perfect courage. But Bishop's coolness -was reassuring. He had already descended the steps, and there was -nothing left for me but to follow. - -At the foot of the stairs were half-glass doors curtained with cheap red -cloth. A warm, thick, suffocating gust of air, heavy with the fumes of -beer, wine, and tobacco, assailed our cold faces as we pushed open the -doors and entered the room. - -For a moment it was difficult to see clearly, so dense was the smoke. -It was packed against the ceiling like a bank of fog, diminishing in -density downward, and shot through with long banner-like streamers of -smoke freshly emitted. - -The human atmosphere of the place could not be caught at once. A -stranger would not have known for the moment whether he was with thieves -or artists. But very soon its distinctive spirit made its presence and -character manifest. The room--which was not a large one--was well filled -with an assortment of those queer and interesting people some of whom -Bishop had entertained at the studio, only here their characteristics -were more pronounced, for they were in their natural element, depressed -and hampered by no constraints except of their own devising. A great -many were women, although it could be seen at a glance that they were -not of the nymphs who flitted among the glittering _café_s, gowned in -delicate laces and sheeny sculptured silks, the essence of mignonette -pervading their environment. No; these were different. - -[Illustration:0187] - -Here one finds, not the student life of Paris, but its most -unconventional Bohemian life. Here, in this underground rendezvous, a -dirty old hole about twenty feet below the street level, gather nightly -the happy-go-lucky poets, musicians, and singers for whom the great -busy world has no use, and who, in their unrelaxing poverty, live in -the tobacco clouds of their own construction, caring nothing for social -canons, obeyers of the civil law because of their scorn of meanness, -injustice, and crime, suffering unceasingly for the poorest comforts of -life, ambitious without energy, hopeful without effort, cheerful under -the direst pressure of need, kindly, simple, proud, and pitiful. - -All were seated at little round tables, as are the habitués of the -_café_s, and their attention was directed upon a slim young fellow with -curling yellow hair and a faint moustache, who was singing, leaning -meanwhile upon a piano that stood on a low platform in one corner of -the room. Their attention was respectful, delicate, sympathetic, and, as -might be supposed, brought out the best in the lad. It was evident that -he had not long been a member of the sacred circle. His voice was a -smooth, velvety tenor, and under proper instruction might have been -useful to its possessor as a means of earning a livelihood. But it was -clear that he had already fallen under the spell of the associations to -which accident or his inclination had brought him; and this meant that -henceforth he would live in this strange no-world of dreams, hopes, -sufferings, and idleness, and that likely he would in time come to -gather cigar-stumps on the sanded pavement of the Café d'Harcourt, and -after that sleep with the rats under the bridges of the Seine. At this -moment, however, he lived in the clouds; he breathed and glowed with -the spirit of shiftless, proud, starving Bohemianism as it is lived in -Paris, benignantly disdainful of the great moiling, money-grubbing world -that roared around him, and perhaps already the adoration of some girl -of poetic or artistic tastes and aspirations, who was serving him as -only the Church gives a woman the right. - -There was time to look about while he was singing, though that was -difficult, so strange and pathetic a picture he made. The walls of the -room were dirty and bare, though relieved at rare intervals by sketches -and signs. The light came from three gas-burners, and was reflected by a -long mirror at one end of the room. - -No attention had been paid to our entrance, except by the garçon, a -heavy-set, bull-necked fellow, who, with a sign, bade us make no noise. - -When the song had finished the audience broke into uproarious applause, -shouting, "_Bravo, mon vieux!" "Bien fait, Marquis!_" and the clapping -of hands and beating of glasses on the marble-topped tables and pounding -of canes on the floor made a mighty din. The young singer, his cheeks -glowing and his eyes blazing, modestly rolled up his music and sought -his seat. - -We were now piloted to seats by the garçon, who, when we had settled -ourselves, demanded to know what we would drink. "_Deux bocks!_" he -yelled across the room. "_Deux bocks!_" came echoing back from the -counter, where a fat woman presided--knitting. - -Several long-haired littérateurs--friends of Bishop's--came up and -saluted him and shook his hand, all with a certain elegance and dignity. -He, in turn, introduced me, and the conversation at once turned to art, -music, and poetry. Whatever the sensational news of the day, whatever -the crisis in the cabinet, whatever anything might have been that was -stirring the people in the great outside commonplace world, these men -and women gave it no heed whatever. What was the gross, hard, eager -world to them? Did not the glories of the Golden Sun lend sufficient -warmth to their hearts, and were not their vague aspirations and idle -hopes ample stimulants to their minds and spirits? They quickly found a -responsive mood in us, and this so delighted them that they ordered the -drinks. - -The presiding genius at the piano was a whitehaired, spiritual-looking -man, whose snowy locks gave the only indication of his age; for his face -was filled with the eternal youthfulness of a careless and contented -heart. His slender, delicate fingers told of his temperament, his thin -cheeks of his poverty, and his splendid dreamy eyes of the separate life -that he lived. - -Standing on the platform beside him was a man of a very different type. -It was' the pianist's function to be merely a musician; but the other -man--the musical director--was one from whom judgment, decision, and -authority were required. Therefore he was large, powerful, and big- -stomached, and had a pumpkin head, and fat, baggy eyes that shone -through narrow slits. He now stepped forward and rang a little bell, -upon which all talking was instantly hushed. - -"_Mesdames et messieurs_," he said, in a large, capable voice, "_J'ai -l'honneur de vous annoncer que Madame Louise Leroux, nous lira ses -dernières oeuvres--une faveur que nous apprécierons tous_." - -[Illustration: 8192] - -A young woman--about twenty-three, I should judge--arose from one of -the tables where she had been sitting talking with an insipid-looking -gentleman adorned with a blond moustache and vacant, staring-eyes; he -wore a heavy coat trimmed with astrachan collar and cuffs, which, being -open at the throat, revealed the absence of a shirt from his body. A -Latin Quarter top-hat was pushed back on his head, and his long, greasy -hair hung down over his collar. Madame Leroux smiled affectionately at -him as she daintily flicked the ashes from her cigarette and laid it -upon the table, and moistened her thin red lips with a yellow liqueur -from her glass. He responded with a condescending jerk of his head, and, -diving into one of the inner pockets of his coat, brought forth a roll -of paper, which she took. A great clapping of hands and loud cries -of her name greeted her as she stepped upon the platform, but it was -clearly to be seen from her indifferent air that she had been long -accustomed to this attention. - -The big musical director again rang his bell. - -"_Il était une Fois,_" she said, simply. The pianist fingered the keys -softly, and she began to recite. - -[Illustration: 0193] - -The room was as still as a chapel. Every one listened in profound -absorption; even the stolid bull-necked waiter leaned against the wall, -his gaze fastened upon her with respectful interest. She spoke slowly, -in a low, sweet tone, the soft accompaniment of the piano following the -rhythm of her voice with wonderful effectiveness. She seemed to forget -her surroundings,--the hot, close room, crowded with shabby, eccentric -geniuses who lived from hand to mouth, the poverty that evidently was -her lot,--even her lover, who sat watching her with a cold, critical, -half-disdainful air, making notes upon a slip of paper, now nodding -his head approvingly, now frowning, when pleased or displeased with her -performance. She was a rare picture as she thus stood and recited, a -charming swing to her trim figure, half reclining upon the piano, her -black hair falling loosely and caressing her forehead and casting her -dark eyes in deeper shadow, and all her soul going forth in the low, -soft, subdued passion of her verses. She reminded one greatly of -Bernhardt, and might have been as great. - -During her whole rendering of this beautiful and pathetic tale of "other -times" she scarcely moved, save for some slight gesture that suggested -worlds. How well the lines suited her own history and condition only -she could have told. Who was she? What had she been? Surely this strange -woman, hardly more than a mere girl, capable of such feelings and of -rendering them with so subtle force and beauty, had lived another life,- --no one knew, no one cared. - -Loud shouts of admiration and long applause rang through the room as -she slowly and with infinite tenderness uttered the last line with -bowed head and a choking voice. She stood for a moment while the room -thundered, and then the noise seemed to recall her, to drag her back -from some haunting memory to the squalor of her present condition, and -then her eyes eagerly sought the gentleman of the fur-collared coat. It -was an anxious glance that she cast upon him. He carelessly nodded once -or twice, and she instantly became transfigured. The melancholy of her -eyes and the wretched dejection of her pose disappeared, and her sad -face lit up with a beaming, happy smile. She was starting to return to -him, all the woman in her awaking to affection and a yearning for -the refuge of his love, when the vociferous cries of the crowd for -an encore, and the waving of her lover's hand as a signal for her to -comply, sent her back on guard to the piano again. Her smile was very -sweet and her voice full of trippling melody when she now recited a gay -little ballad,--also her own composition,--"_Amours Joyeux_,"--in so -entirely different a spirit that it was almost impossible to believe her -the same mortal. Every fibre of her being participated in the rollicking -abandon of the piece, and her eyes were flooded with the mellow radiance -of supreme love satisfied and victorious. - -Upon regaining her seat she was immediately surrounded by a praise- -giving crowd, who shook hands with her and heartily congratulated her; -but it was clear that she could think only of him of the fur collar, -and that no word of praise or blame would weigh with her the smallest -fraction of a feather's weight unless this one man uttered it. She -disengaged her hand from her crowding admirers and deftly donned her -little white Alpine hat, all the while looking into the face of the one -man who could break her heart or send her to heaven. He sat looking at -his boot, indifferent, bored. Presently he looked up into her anxious -eyes, gazed at her a moment, and then leaned forward and spoke a word. -It sent her to heaven. Her face all aglow and her eyes shining with -happiness, she called the garçon, paid for the four saucers upon the -table, and left the room upon the arm of her lover. - -"How she does adore that dog!" exclaimed my friend the musician. - -"What does he do?" I asked. - -"Do?" he echoed. "Nothing. It is she who does all. Without her he would -starve. He is a writer of some ability, but too much of a socialist to -work seriously. In her eyes he is the greatest writer in the world. She -would sacrifice everything to please him. Without him her life would -fall into a complete blank, and her recklessness would quickly send her -into the lowermost ranks. When a woman like that loves, she loves--ah, -_les femmes sont difficiles à comprendre!_" My friend sighed, burying -his moustaches in a foaming bock. - -Individual definition grew clearer as I became more and more accustomed -to the place and its habitués. It seemed that nearly all of them were -absinthe-drinkers, and that they drank a great deal,--all they could -get, I was made to understand. They care little about their dress and -the other accessories of their personal appearance, though here and -there they exhibit the oddest finery, into whose possession they fall -by means which casual investigation could not discover, and which is -singularly out of harmony with the other articles of their attire and -with the environment which they choose. As a rule, the men wear their -hair very long and in heavy, shaggy masses over their ears and faces. -They continually roll and smoke cigarettes, though there are many pipes, -and big ones at that. But though they constitute a strange crowd, there -is about them a distinct air of refinement, a certain dignity and pride -that never fail, and withal a gentleness that renders any approach -to ruffianism impossible. The women take a little more pride in -their appearance than the men. Even in their carelessness and seeming -indifference there abides with nearly all of them the power to lend -themselves some single touch of grace that is wonderfully redeeming, and -that is infinitely finer and more elusive than the showy daintiness of -the women of the _café_s. - -As a rule, these Bohemians all sleep during the day, as that is the best -way to keep warm; at night they can find warmth in the cabarets. In the -afternoon they may write a few lines, which they sell in some way for a -pittance, wherewithal to buy them a meal and a night's vigil in one of -these resorts. This is the life of lower Bohemia plain and simple,--not -the life of the students, but of the misfit geniuses who drift, who have -neither place nor part in the world, who live from hand to mouth, and -who shudder when the Morgue is mentioned,--and it is so near, and its -lights never go out! They are merely protestants against the formalism -of life, rebels against its necessities. They seek no following, they -desire to exercise no influence. They lead their vacant lives without -the slightest restraint, bear their poverty without a murmur, and go to -their dreary end without a sigh. These are the true Bohemians of Paris. - -Other visitors came into the Soleil d'Or and sought seats among their -friends at the tables, while others kept leaving, bound for other -rendezvous, many staying just sufficiently long to hear a song or two. -They were all of the same class, very negligently and poorly attired, -some displaying their odd pieces of finery with an exquisite assumption -of unconsciousness on its account, as though they were millionaires and -cared nothing for such trivial things. And the whimsical incongruities -of it! If one wore a shining tile he either had no shirt (or perhaps a -very badly soiled one), or wore a frayed coat and disreputable shoes. In -fact, no complete respectable dress made its appearance in the room -that night, though each visitor had his distinctive specialty,--one -a burnished top hat, another a gorgeous cravat, another a rich velvet -jacket, and so on. But they all wore their hair as long as it would -grow. That is the Bohemian mark. - -The little bell again rang, and the heavy director announced that -"Monsieur Léon Décarmeau will sing one of his newest songs." Monsieur -Léon Décarmeau was a lean, half-starved appearing man of about forty, -whose eyes were sunk deep in his head, and whose sharp cheek-bones -protruded prominently. On the bridge of his thin, angular nose set -a pair of "pince-nez," attached by a broad black cord, which he kept -fingering nervously as he sang. His song was entitled "Fleurs et -Pensées," and he threw himself into it with a broad and passionate -eagerness that heavily strained the barrier between melodrama and -burlesque. His glance sought the ceiling in a frenzied quest of -imaginary nymphs, his arms swayed as he tenderly caressed imaginary -flowers of sweet love and drank in their intoxicating perfume instead -of the hot, tobacco-rife smoke of the room. His voice was drawn out in -tremendous sighs full of tears, and his chest heaved like a blacksmith's -bellows. But when he had ceased he was most generously applauded and -praised. - -During the intervals between the songs and recitations the room was -noisy with laughter, talking, and the clinking of glasses. The one -garçon was industriously serving boissons and yelling orders to the bar, -where the fat woman sat industriously knitting, heedless, as might have -been expected of the keeper of the Cave of Adullam, and awakening to -activity only when the stentorian yells of the garçon's orders rose -above the din of the establishment. Absinthe and beer formed the -principal beverages, though, as a rule, absinthe was taken only just -before a meal, and then it served as an appetizer,--a sharpener of -hunger to these who had so little wherewithal to satisfy the hunger that -unaided nature created! - -The mystery of the means by which these lighthearted Bohemians sustained -their precarious existence was not revealed to me; yet here they -sat, and laughed, and talked, and recited the poetry of their own -manufacture, and sang their songs, and drank, and smoked their big -pipes, and rolled cigarettes incessantly, happy enough in the hour of -their lives, bringing hither none of the pains and pangs and numbing -evidences of their struggles. And there was no touch of the sordid -in the composite picture that they made, and a certain tinge of -intellectual refinement, a certain spirituality that seemed to raise -them infinitely above the plane of the lowly strugglers who won their -honest bread by honest labor, shone about them as a halo. - -Their dark hours, no doubt, came with the daylight, and in these -meetings at the cabaret they found an agreeable way in which to while -away the dismal interval that burdened their lives when they were not -asleep; for the cabaret was warm and bright, warmer and brighter than -their own wretched little rooms au cinquième,--and coal and candles are -expensive luxuries! Here, if their productions haply could not find a -larger and more remunerative audience, they could at least be heard,--by -a few, it is true, but a most appreciative few, and that is something -of value equal to bread. And then, who could tell but what fame might -unexpectedly crown them in the end? It has happened thus. - -"But why worry?" asked the musician. "'Laugh, and the world laughs with -you. If we do not live a long life, it is at least a jolly one,' is our -motto and certainly they gave it most faithful allegiance." - -I learned from Bishop that the musical director received three francs a -night for his services. Should singers happen to be lacking, or should -the evening be dull for other reason, he himself must sing and recite; -for the tension of the Soleil d'Or must be kept forever taut. The old -white-haired pianist received two francs a night, and each of these -contributors to the gayety of the place was given a drink gratis. -So there was at least some recompense besides the essential one of -appreciation from the audience. - -Glasses clinked merrily, and poets and composers flitted about the room -to chat with their contemporaries. A sketch artist, deftly drawing the -portrait of a baritone's jolly little mistress, was surrounded by -a bantering group, that passed keen, intelligent, and good-natured -criticism on the work as it rapidly grew under his hands. The -whitehaired pianist sat puffing at his cigarette and looking over some -music with a rather pretty young woman who had written popular songs of -La Villette. - -The opening of the doors and the straggling entrance of three men sent -an instant hush throughout the room. - -"Verlaine!" whispered the musician to me. - -It was indeed the great poet of the slums,--the epitome and idol of -Bohemian Paris, the famous man whose verses had rung throughout the -length and breadth of the city, the one man who, knowing the heart and -soul of the stragglers who found light and warmth in such places as -the Soleil d'Or, had the brains and grace to set the strange picture -adequately before the wondering world. - -The musical director, as well as a number of others in the place, -stepped forward, and with touching deference and tenderness greeted the -remarkable man and his two companions. It was easy to pick out Verlaine -without relying upon the special distinction with which he was greeted. -He had the oddest slanting eyes, a small, stubby nose, and wiry -whiskers, and his massive forehead heavily overhung his queerly shaped -eyes. He was all muffled up to the chin; wore a badly soiled hat and a -shabby dark coat. Under one arm he carried a small black portfolio. - -[Illustration: 8202] - -Several of the women ran to him and kissed him on both cheeks, which -salutations he heartily returned, with interest. - -One of his companions was Monsieur Bi-Bi-dans-la-Purée--so he was -called, though seemingly he might have been in anything as well as soup. -He was an exceedingly interesting figure. His sunken, drawn, smooth- -shaven face gave terrible evidence of the excessive use of absinthe. A -large hooked nose overshadowed a wide, loose mouth that hung down at the -corners, and served to set forth in startling relief the sickly leaden -color of his face. When he spoke, a few straggling teeth gleamed -unpleasantly. He wore no overcoat, and his jacket hung open, disclosing -a half-opened shirt that exposed his bare breast. His frayed trousers -dragged the ground at his heels. But his eyes were the most terrible -part of him; they shone with the wild, restless light of a madman, -and their gaze was generally flitting and distrait, acknowledging no -acquaintances. Afterwards, when Verlaine was dead, I often saw Monsieur -Bi-Bi-dansla-Purée on the street, looking most desolate, a roll of white -manuscript in his hand, his coat and shirt wide open, exposing his naked -breast to the biting cold wind. He seemed to be living altogether in -another world, and gazed about him with the same unseeing vacant stare -that so startled me that night in the Soleil d'Or. - -When Verlaine and his companions were seated--by displacing the -artist--the recitations and songs recommenced; and it was noticeable -that they were rendered with augmented spirit, that the famous poet of -the slums might be duly impressed with the capabilities and hospitable -intentions of his entertainers; for now all performed for Verlaine, not -for one another. The distinguished visitor had removed his slouch hat, -revealing the wonderful oblong dome of his bald head, which shone like -the Soleil d'Or; and many were the kisses reverently and affectionately -bestowed upon that glistening eminence by the poet's numerous female -admirers in the throng. - -A reckless-looking young woman, with a black hat drawn down over her -eyes, and wearing glasses, was now reciting. Her hands were gloved in -black, but the finger-tips were worn through,--a fact which she made all -the more evident by a peculiar gesture of the fingers. - -As the small hours grew larger these gay Bohemians waxed gayer and -livelier. Formalities were gradually abandoned, and the constraint of -dignity and reserve slowly melted under the mellowing influences of -the place. Ceremonious observances were dropped one by one; and whereas -there had been the most respectful and insistent silence throughout the -songs, now all joined heartily in the choruses, making the dim lights -dance in the exuberance of the enjoyment. I had earnestly hoped that -Verlaine, splendid as was his dignity, might thaw under the gathering -warmth of the hour, but beyond listening respectfully, applauding -moderately, and returning the greetings that were given him, he held -aloof from the influence of the occasion, and after draining his glass -and bidding good-night to his many friends, with his two companions he -made off to another rendezvous. - -Monsieur le Directeur came over to our table and asked Bishop to favor -the audience with a "_chanson Américaine_." This rather staggered my -modest friend, but he finally yielded to entreaties. The director rang -his little bell again and announced that "Monsieur Beeshup" would sing a -song _à l'Américaine_. This was received with uproarious shouts by all, -and several left their seats and escorted Bishop to the platform. I -wondered what on earth he would sing. The accompanist, after a little -coaching from Bishop, assailed the chords, and Bishop began drawling out -his old favorite, "Down on the Farm." He did it nobly, too, giving the -accompanist occasion for labor in finding the more difficult harmonies. -The hearers, though they did not understand a word of the ditty, and -therefore lost the whole of its pathos, nevertheless listened with -curious interest and respect, though with evident veiled amusement. Many -quick ears caught the refrain. At first there came an exceedingly soft -chorus from the room, and it gradually rose until the whole crowd had -thrown itself into the spirit of the melody, and swelled it to a mighty -volume. Bishop led the singers, beating time with his right arm, his -left thumb meanwhile hooked in the arm-hole of his waistcoat. "_Bravo! -Bravo, Beeshup! Bis!_" they yelled, when it was finished, and then the -room rang with a salvo of hand-clappings in unison: 1-2--3-4-5--1-2-3- -4-5--1-2-3-4-5--1--2--3!! A great ovation greeted him as he marched with -glowing cheeks to his seat, and those who knew him crowded round him -for a hand-shake. The musician asked him if he would sing the song in -private for him, that he might write down the melody, to which Bishop -agreed, on condition that the musician pose for him. Bishop had a -singularly sharp eye for opportunities. - -The sketch artist sauntered over and sat down at our table to have a -chat with Bishop. He was a singular fellow. His manner was smoothed by a -fine and delicate courtesy, bespeaking a careful rearing, whose effects -his loose life and promiscuous associations could not obliterate. His -age was about thirty-two, though he looked much older,--this being due -in part to his hard life and in other part to the heavy whiskers that -he wore. An absurd little round felt hat sat precariously on his riotous -mane, and I was in constant apprehension lest it should fall off every -time he shook his head. Over his shoulders was a blue cape covering a -once white shirt that was devoid of a collar. His fingers were all -black with the crayon that he had used in sketching. He said that he had -already earned twelve sous that evening, making portraits at six sous a -head! But there was not so much money to be made in a place like this as -in the big _café_s,--the frequenters were too poor. - -[Illustration: 0206] - -I asked him where he had studied and learned his art, for it could be -easily seen that he had had some training; his portraits were not half -bad, and showed a knowledge of drawing. He thereupon told me his story. - -He had come to Paris thirteen years before from Nantes, Brittany, to -study art. His father kept a small grocery and provision-shop in Nantes, -and lived in meagre circumstances. The son having discovered what his -father deemed a remarkable talent for drawing when a boy, the father -sent him to Paris, with an allowance of a hundred francs a month, and he -had to deny himself severely to furnish it. When the young man arrived -at Paris he studied diligently at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts for a while, -and became acquainted with many of the students and models. He soon -found the easy life of the _café_s, with the models for companions, more -fascinating than the dull grind of the school. It was much pleasanter to -enjoy the gayety of the nights and sleep all day than drone and labor -at his easel. As his small allowance did not permit of extravagance, he -fell deeply into debt, and gave more heed to absinthe than his -meals,--it is cheaper, more alluring, and brings an exhilaration that -sharpens wit and equips the soul with wings. - -For a whole year the father was in total ignorance of his son's conduct, -but one day a friend, who had seen the young man in Paris, laid the ugly -story in his father's ear. This so enraged the father that he instantly -stopped the remittances and disowned his son. All appeals for money, all -promises to reform, were in vain, and so the young madcap was forced to -look about for a means of subsistence. And thus it was that he drifted -into the occupation of a sketch artist, making portraits in the _café_s -all night and sleeping in daytime. This brought him a scant living. - -But there was his mistress, Marcelle, always faithful to him. She worked -during the day at sewing, and shared her small earnings with him. All -went fairly well during the summer, but in winter the days were short, -Marcelle's earnings were reduced, and the weather was bitter cold. -Still, it was not so bad as it might be, he protested; but underneath -his easy flippancy I imagined I caught a shadow,--a flitting sense of -the hollowness and misery and hopelessness and shame of it all. But I am -not certain of that. He had but gone the way of many and many another, -and others now are following in his footsteps, deluding self-denying -parents, and setting foot in the road which, so broad and shining at the -beginning, narrows and darkens as it leads nearer and nearer to the rat- -holes under the bridges of the Seine, and to the grim house whose lights -forever shine at night under the shadow of Notre-Dame. - -Had monsieur a cigarette to spare? Monsieur had, and monsieur thought -that the thanks for it were out of all proportion to its value; but they -were totally eclipsed by the praises of monsieur's wonderful generosity -in paying for a glass of absinthe and sugar for the man who made faces -at six sous apiece. - -The quiet but none the less high tension of the place, the noise of the -singing, the rattling of glasses and saucers, the stifling foul air of -the room, filled me with weariness and threatened me with nausea. Things -had moved in a constant whirl all night, and now it was nearly four -o'clock. How much longer will this last? - -"Till five o'clock," answered the musician; then all the lights go out, -and the place is closed; and our friends seek their cold, cheerless -rooms, to sleep far into the afternoon. - -We paid for our saucers, and after parting adieux left in company -with the musician and the aesthetic poet. How deliciously sharp and -refreshing was the cold, biting air as we stepped out into the night! It -seemed as though I had been breathing molasses. The fog was thicker than -ever, and the night was colder. The two twisted gas-lamps were no longer -burning as we crossed the slippery stone-paved court and ascended to the -narrow street. The musician wrapped a gray muffler about his throat and -thrust his hands deep into his pockets. The poet had no top-coat, but he -buttoned his thin jacket tightly about him, and shivered. - -"Shall we have some lait chaud and a croissant?" inquired the musician. - -Yes, anything hot would be good, even milk; but where could we get it? - -"Ah, you shall see!" - -We had not gone far when it gave me a start to recognize a figure that -we had seen in the Boul' Mich' on our way to the Soleil d'Or. It was -that of an outcast of the boulevards, now slinking through the shadows -toward the river. We had been accosted by him in front of one of the -brilliant _café_s, as, trembling and rubbing his hands, a picture of -hopeless dejection and misery, and in a quavering voice he begged us to -buy him a drink of brandy. - -[Illustration: 0210] - -It probably saved him from an attack of delirium tremens that night, but -here he was drifting, with a singular fatality, toward the river and -the Morgue. Now, that his day's work of begging was done, all his jackal -watchfulness had disappeared, and an inner vision seemed to look forth -from his bleared eyes as their gaze strained straight and dull toward -the black river. It may have been a mere fancy, but the expression in -his eyes reminded me strongly of similar things that I had seen on the -slabs in the Morgue. - -We crossed the Rue du Haut-Pavé again to the river wall, and arrived -at the bridge leading back of Notre-Dame and past the Morgue. On the -farther end of the bridge, propped against the parapet, was a small -stand, upon a corner of which a dim lamp was burning. In front were a -number of milk-cans, and on a small counter were a row of thick white -bowls and a basket of croissants. Inside, upon a small stove, red with -heat, were two kettles from which issued clouds of steam bearing an odor -of boiling milk. A stout woman, her face so well wrapped in a shawl -that only the end of her red nose was visible, greeted us,--"_Bon jour, -messieurs. En voulez-vous du bon lait bien chaud?_" - -She poured out four bowls of steaming milk, and gave us each a roll. -For this luxury we paid three sous each; and a feast it was, for the -shivering poet, at least, for he licked the hot bowl clean and ate the -very crumbs of his croissant. - -As we were bound for widely separated quarters, our Bohemian friends -bade us an affectionate good-night, and were soon swallowed up in the -gloom. We turned towards home and the Boul' Mich'. All the _café_s were -closed and dark, but the boulevard was alive with canal-boatmen, street- -sweepers, and rumbling vegetable- and milk-carts. The streets were being -washed clean of all evidences of the previous day's life and turmoil, -and the great city was creeping forth from its lair to begin another. - -[Illustration: 5213] - - - - -THE CAFÉ PROCOPE - - -IN the short, busy little street, the Rue de l'Ancienne-Comédie, which -runs from the Boulevard St. Germain, in a line from the Théâtre National -de l'Odéon and connecting with the Rue Mazarin, its continuation, the -heavy dome of the Institut looming at its end, is to be found probably -the most famous _café_ in Paris, for in its day it has been the -rendezvous of the most noted French littérateurs, politicians, and -savants. What is more, the Procope was the first _café_ established in -Paris, originating the appellation "_café_" to a place where coffee -is served, for it was here that coffee was introduced to France as an -after-dinner comforter. - -That was when the famous _café_ was in its glory. Some of the great -celebrities who made it famous have been dead for nearly two hundred -years, though its greatest fame came a century afterwards; and now the -_café_, no longer glorious as it was when the old Théâtre Français stood -opposite, reposes in a quiet street far from the noise and glitter and -life of the boulevards, and lives on the splendid memories that crowd -it. Other _café_s by the thousand have sprung into existence, and -the word has spread to coffee saloons and restaurants throughout -Christendom; and the ancient rive droite nurses the history and relics -of the golden days of its glory, alone in a quiet street, surrounded by -tightly shut shops, and the calm of a sleeping village. - -Still, it retains many of its ancient characteristics and much of the -old-time quaintness peculiar to itself and setting it wholly apart, and -it is yet the rendezvous of littérateurs and artists, who, if not so -famous as the great men in whose seats they sit, play a considerable -rôle in the life of modern Paris. - -The front of the _café_ is a neat little terrace off the street, -screened by a fanciful net-work of vines and shrubbery that spring from -green painted boxes and that conceal cosey little tables and corners -placed behind them. Instead of the usual showy plate-windows, one still -finds the quaint old window-panes, very small carreaux, kept highly -polished by the tireless garçon apprentice. - -Tacked to the white pillars are numerous copies of _Le Procope_, a -weekly journal published by Théo, the proprietor of the _café_. Its -contributors are the authors, journalists, and poets who frequent -the _café_, and it publishes a number of portraits besides, and some -spirited drawings. It is devoted in part to the history of the _café_ -and of the celebrities who have made it famous, and publishes portraits -of them, from Voltaire to Paul Verlaine. This same journal was published -here over two hundred years ago, in 1689, and it was the means then by -which the patrons of the establishment kept in closer touch with their -contemporaries and the spirit of the time. Théo is proprietor and -business manager, as well as editor. - -[Illustration: 0215] - -The following two poems will give an idea of the grace of the matter -contained in Le Procope: - - -À UNE ESPAGNOLE - - - Au loin, quand, l'oil rêveur et d'ennuis l'âme pleine, - - Je suivrai sur les flots le vol des alcyons - - Chaque soir surgira dans les derniers rayons - - Le profil triste et doux d'Ida, de ma sirène. - - La figure et de lys et d'iris transparente, - - Ressortira plus blanche en l'ombre des cheveux - - Profonds comme un mystère et troublants et mes yeux - - Boiront dans l'Idéal sa caresse enivrante. - - - Et je rechercherai l'énigme du sourire - - Railleur ou de pitié qui luisait dans ses yeux - - En des paillettes d'or sous ses beaux cils ombreux.... - - - Et je retomberai dans la tristesse... et dire - - Qu'un seul mot me rendrait et la vie et l'espoir: - - Belle, mon rendez-vous n'est-il point pour ce soir? - - L Birr. - - - -PETITE CHANSON DÉSOLÉE - - - Je suis seul dans la grande ville - - Où nul n'a fêté mon retour, - - Cour vide, et cerveau qui vacille, - - Sans projet, sans but, sans amour - - Je suis seul dans la grande ville. - - - Le dos voûté, les bras ballants, - - Je marche au hasard dans la foule - - A longs pas lourds et nonchalants, - - On me pousse, heurte, refoule, - - Le dos voûté, les bras ballants. - - - Je suis accablé de silence, - - De ce silence intérieur, - - Tel un brouillard subtil et dense, - - Qui tombe à plis lourds sur le cour, - - Je suis accablé de silence. - - - Ah! quand viendront les jours heureux, - - Quand viendra la chère attendue - - Qu'espère mon cour amoureux, - - Qu'implore mon âme éperdue, - - Ah! quand viendront les jours heureux! - - Achille Segard. - -Here is a particularly charming little poem, written in the musical -French of two or three centuries ago: - - -UN BAYSER - - - Sur vostre lèvre fraîche et rose, - - Ma mye, ah! laissiez-moi poser - - Cette tant bonne et doulce chose, - - Un bayser. - - - Telle une fleur au jour éclose, - - le vois vostre teint se roser; - - Si ie vous redonnois,--ie n'ose, - - Un bayser. - - - Laissiez-moi vous prendre, inhumaine, - - A chascun iour de la sepmaine - - Un bayser. - - - Trop tôt viendront vieil aage et peine! - - Lors n'aurez plus, l'eussiez-vous reine, - - Un bayser. - - Maistre Guillaume. - - -The modern gas illumination of the _café_, in contrast to the fashion of -brilliant lighting that prevails in the showy _café_s of the boulevards, -must nevertheless be a great advance on the ancient way that it had -of being lighted with crude oil lamps and candelabra. But the dim -illumination is in perfect keeping with the other appointments of the -place, which are dark, sombre, and funereal. The interior of the Procope -is as dark as a finely colored old meerschaum pipe. The woodwork, the -chairs, and the tables are deeply stained by time, the contrasting white -marble tops of the tables suggesting gravestones; and with all these go -the deeply discolored walls and the many ancient paintings,--even the -caisse, behind which sits Madame Théo, dozing over her knitting. This -caisse is a wonderful piece of furniture in itself, of some rich dark -wood, beautifully carved and decorated. - -Madame Théo is in black, her head resting against the frame of an -old crayon portrait of Voltaire on the wall behind her. A fat and -comfortable black cat is asleep in the midst of rows of white saucers -and snowy napkins. The only garçon, except the garçon apprentice, is -sitting in a corner drowsing over an evening paper, but ever ready to -answer the quiet calls of the customers. For in the matter of noise and -frivolity the Café Procope is wholly unlike the boulevard _café_s. An -atmosphere of refined and elegant suppression pervades the place; the -roystering spirit that haunts the boulevards stops at the portals of the -Procope. Here all is peace and tranquillity, and that is why it is the -haunt of many earnest and aspiring poets and authors; for hither they -may bring their portfolios in peace and security, and here they may -work upon their manuscripts, knowing that their neighbors are similarly -engrossed and that intrusion is not to be feared. And then, too, are -they not sitting on the same chairs and writing at the same tables that -have been occupied by some of the greatest men in all the brilliant -history of France? Is not this the place in which greatness had budded -and blossomed in the centuries gone? Are not these ancient walls the -same that echoed the wit, badinage, and laughter of the masters? And -there are the portraits of the great themselves, looking down benignly -and encouragingly upon the young strugglers striving to follow in their -footsteps, and into the ghostly mirrors, damaged by time and now sending -back only ghosts of shadows, they look as the great had looked before -them. It is here, therefore, that many of the modern geniuses of France -have drawn their inspiration, shaking off the endless turmoil of the -noisy and bustling world, living with the works and memories of the -ancient dead, and working out their destiny under the magic spell that -hovers about the place. It is for this reason that the habitués are -jealous of the intrusion of the curious and worldly. In this quiet and -secure retreat they feel no impinging of the wearing and crippling world -that roars and surges through the busy streets and boulevards. - -[Illustration: 0221] - -M. Théo de Bellefond is the full name of the proprietor, but he is -commonly known as M. Théo. He is a jolly little man, with an ambitious -round stomach, a benevolent face covered with a Vandyke beard, and a -shining bald head. A large flowing black cravat, tied into an artistic -négligé bow, hides his shirt. M. Théo came into possession of the -Procope in 1893, a fact duly recorded on a door panel, along with the -names of over a score of the celebrities who have made the Procope -their place of rest, refection, and social enjoyment. M. Procope was a -journalist in his day, but now the ambition that moves him is to restore -the ancient glory of the Procope; to make it again the centre of French -brains and power in letters, art, and politics. To this end he exerts -all his journalistic tact, a fact clearly shown by the able manner -in which he conducts his journal, _Le Procope_. He has worked out the -history of the _café_, and has at the ends of his fingers the life- -stories of its famous patrons. - -The Café Procope was founded in 1689 by François Procope, where it now -stands. Opposite was the Comédie Française, which also was opened -that year. The _café_ soon became the rendezvous of all who aspired to -greatness in art, letters, philosophy, and politics. It was here that -Voltaire, in his eighty-second year, while attending the rehearsals of -his play, "Irène," descended from his chaise-à-porteur at the door -of the Café Procope, and drank the coffee which the _café_ had made -fashionable. It was here also that he became reconciled to Piron, after -an estrangement of more than twenty years. - -Ste.-Foix made trouble here one day about a cup of chocolate. A duel -with the proprietor of the _café_ was the immediate result, and after -it Ste.-Foix, badly wounded, exclaimed, "Nevertheless, monsieur, your -sword-thrust does not prevent my saying that a very sickly déjeuner is -une tasse de chocolat!" - -Jean-Jacques Rousseau, after the successful representation of "Le Devin -de Village," was carried in triumph to the Procope by Condorcet, who, -with Jean-Jacques on his shoulders, made a tour of the crowded _café_, -yelling, "Vive la Musique Française!" Diderot was fond of sitting in a -corner and manufacturing paradoxes and materialistic dissertations to -provoke the lieutenant of police, who would note everything he said -and report it to the chief of police. The lieutenant, ambitious though -stupid, one night told his chief that Diderot had said one never saw -souls; to which the chief returned, "M. Diderot se trompe. L'âme est un -esprit, et M. Diderot est plein d'esprit." - -Danton delighted in playing chess in a quiet corner with a strong -adversary in the person of Marat. Many other famous revolutionists -assembled here, among them Fabre d'Eglantine, Robespierre, d'Holbach, -Mirabeau, Camille Desmoulins. It was here that Camille Desmoulins was to -be strangled by the reactionists in the Revolution; it was here that the -first bonnet rouge was donned. The massacre of December, 1792, was here- -planned, and the killing began at the very doors of the _café_. Madame -Roland, Lucille Desmoulins, and the wife of Danton met here on the ioth -of August, the day of the fall of the monarchy, when bells rang and -cannon thundered. It was later that Bonaparte, then quite young and -living in the Quai Conti, in the building which the American Art -Association now occupies, left his hat at the Procope as security for -payment for a drink, he having left his purse at home. In short, the old -_café_ of the Rue des Fossés-St.-Ger-main (its old name) was famous as -the meeting-place of celebrities. Legendre, the great geometrician, -came hither. One remembers the verses of Masset: "Je joue aux -dominos quelquefois chez Procope." Here Gambetta made speeches to the -reactionist politicians and journalists. He engaged in more than one -prise de bec with le père Coquille, friend of Veuillot. Coquille always -made sprightly and spirited replies when Gambetta roared, thundered, and -swore. - -Since then have followed days of calm. In later times Paul Verlaine was -a frequenter of the Procope, where he would sit in his favorite place -in the little rear salon at Voltaire's table. This little salon, in the -rear of the _café_, is held sacred, for its chair and table are the -ones that Voltaire used to occupy. The table is on one side of the small -room. On the walls are many interesting sketches in oil by well-known -French artists, and there are fine ceiling decorations; but all these -are seen with difficulty, so dim is the light in the room. Since -Voltaire's time this table has become an object of curiosity and -veneration. When celebrated habitués of the _café_ died this table was -used as an altar, upon which for a time reposed the bust of the decedent -before crêpe-covered lanterns. - -During the Revolution Hébert jumped upon this table, which had been -placed before the door of the _café_, and harangued the crowd gathered -there, exciting them to such a pitch that they snatched the newspapers -from the hands of the news-venders. In a moment of passionate appeal he -brought down his heavy boot-heel upon the marble with such force as to -split it. - -In the _café_ are three doors that are decorated in a very interesting -fashion. On the panels of one, well preserved in spite of the numerous -transformations through which the establishment has gone, M. Théo -conceived the happy idea of inscribing in gold letters the names of the -illustrious who have visited the _café_ since its founding. Many of the -panels of the Avails are taken with full-length portraits by Thomas, -representing, among others, Voltaire, Rousseau, Robespierre, Diderot, -Danton and Marat playing chess, Mirabeau, and Gambetta. There are -smaller sketches by Corot, d'Aubigny, Vallon, Courbet, Willette, and -Roedel. Some of them are not fine specimens of art. - -M. Théo is a devoted collector of rare books and engravings. His -library, which contains many very rare engravings of the eighteenth -century and more than one book of priceless value, is open to his -intimate friends only, with whom he loves to ramble through his -treasures and find interesting data of his _café_. - - - - -LE MOULIN DE LA GALETTE - - -BISHOP had been industriously at work upon a large black-and-white -drawing. The subject was a ball-room scene,--of evident low degree, -judging from the abandon of the whirling figures and the queer types -that were depicted. White lace skirts were sweeping high in air, -revealing black-stockinged ankles and gauzy lingerie in a way unknown to -the monde propre. - -[Illustration: 8228] - -In contrast to the grace and abandon of the female figures were the -coarseness and clumsiness of their male partners. - -The work was nearly finished, but Bishop professed to be dissatisfied -with the foreground architecture and with the drawing of a hand -belonging to one of the male dancers. After boring me at length with a -speech on the necessity of having a model for that hand, he sheepishly -asked me if I would pose for the elusive member. It was then that -curiosity prompted me to inquire where he had found the original of this -remarkable scene. - -"_Mon enfant sculpteur_," he replied, with the patronizing air of a man -of the world, "this is the Moulin de la Galette." - -"And where is that?" I asked. - -"I will show you to-morrow night, if you agree." - -To-morrow would be Sunday. When it had passed and the evening was come, -and after we had enjoyed two courses of Madame Darblay's juicy gigots -and irresistible beans, with the incomparable sauce afforded by the -presence of the sunny actresses who were there, we walked over to the -Boulevard St.-Jacques and waited for the Montmartre 'bus to come along. -These small, ancient omnibuses are different from the other vehicles of -that breed in Paris, in that instead of having a narrow curved stairway -at the rear leading up to the impériale, there are but three or four -iron foot-rests against the outside of the rear wall, with an iron rod -on either side to cling to in mounting. Now, the traveller who would -reach the impériale must be something of either an acrobat or a sailor, -because, first, as these 'buses do not stop, a running leap has to be -made for the ladder, and, second, because of the pitching and rolling -of the lumbering vehicle, the catching and climbing are not easy. If you -carry a cane or a parcel, it must be held in the teeth until the ascent -is made, for both hands have all they can do in the ladder exercise. - -The gleam of the red lamp coming down the street prepared us for a test -of our agility. As only one could mount the ladder at a time, and as I -was the first to attack the feat, Bishop had to run behind for nearly -a block before I could give him the right of way up the ladder. The -conductor registered deux sur l'impériale as we swung to the top and -took seats forward, just behind the driver. Ladies and fat gentlemen are -rarely, or never, found riding on the impériale of the Montmartre line. - -We wrapped up in our big warm coats and lay back smoking three-sous -cigars (always three-sous ones on Sunday), and as the driver cracked his -whip and the heavy machine went rolling along, we enjoyed the wonderful -treat of seeing gay Paris of a Sunday night from the top of an omnibus. -There is hardly anything more delightful, particularly from the top of a -St. Jacques-Montmartre 'bus, which generally avoids the broad, brilliant -streets and goes rolling and swaying through the narrow, crooked streets -of old Paris. Here there is hardly room for such a vehicle to pass, and -one is anxious lest one's feet sweep off the gas-lamps that fly past. -An intimate view of the domestic life of Paris presents itself likewise, -for, being on a level with the second story windows, you have flitting -visions of the Parisian ménage in all its freedom and variety. At this -time of the evening the windows are wide open and the dinner-tables are -spread near them, for a view of the street below. - -On, on we rumbled, through seemingly interminable miles of crooked -streets, over the gay Boul' Mich', and the Place St.-Michel; across -the river, which reflected the myriads of lights along its walls and -bridges; past the Halles, the greatest marketplace in the world; past -the grand boulevards, a confusing glitter of colors and lights; past -the Folies-Bergère, where flaming posters announced Loie Fuller in the -throes of a fire dance; and at last to the steep grade of Montmartre. -Here a third horse was added to the pair, and slowly we were dragged up -the slope. - -At the Boulevard Clichy we suddenly found ourselves in the midst of a -terrific uproar; bells, steam-whistles, hand-organs, bands of music, -drums, and calliopes made the bedlam. The streets were blocked with -moving masses of laughing people, and the scene was gayly illuminated -by rows of lamps overhead and on hundreds of stands, merry-go-rounds, -theatres, circuses, museums, and all kinds of catchpenny attractions -that lined the boulevard. For this was the Fête de Clichy. Far down the -street, almost hidden by a curve, could be seen the illuminated arms of -the Moulin Rouge slowly revolving through the night. - -Still on and up crawled the 'bus, now in the very heart of Montmartre, -through the lively, crowded, bright streets on the great hill of Paris. -Here are hot-chestnut venders at the corners; fried-potato women, -serving crisp brown chips; street hawkers, with their heavy push-carts; -song-sellers, singing the songs that they sell, to make purchasers -familiar with the airs; flower-girls; gaudy shops; bright restaurants -and noisy _café_s,--all constituting that distinctive quarter of Paris, -Montmartre. - -At last the summit of the hill was made, and the panting horses must -have been glad that it was all down-hill ahead. Bishop gave the signal -to alight a block before the desired street was reached, for by the time -we could touch the ground the 'bus had covered that distance on the -down run. Bishop led the way up a dim little street,--the Rue Muller, I -noticed on the wall. It was very steep, and at last ended at the bottom -of a flight of stone steps that seemed to run into the sky. Their length -was marked by lamps glowing one above another in long rows. It was hard -work climbing to the top. - -The top at last! We seemed to be among the clouds. Far below us lay the -great shining city, spreading away into distance; and although it was -night, the light of a full moon and untold thousands of lamps in the -streets and buildings below enabled us easily to pick out the great -thoroughfares and the more familiar structures. There was the Opéra, -there the Panthéon, there Notre-Dame, there St.-Sulpice, there the -Invalides, and, uplifted to emulate the eminence on which we stood, -the Tour Eiffel, its revolving searchlight at the apex shining like an -immense meteor or comet with its misty trail stretching out over the -city. The roar of life faintly reached our ears from the vast throbbing -plain, where millions of human mysteries were acting out their -tragedies. The scene was vast, wonderful, entrancing. - -Far above us still a maze of rafters, beams, and scaffolding fretted the -sky,--the skeleton of that beautiful but unfinished Church of the Sacré- -Cour, crowning the very summit of Montmartre. - -There seemed to be no life here, for not a soul did we meet, and not a -light shone except that of the moon. Bishop guided me through a maze of -steep stony passages, between the walls of dark gardens, turning now -to the right, again to the left, through archways and courts; and I -wondered how he could remember them all. Before I could fully comprehend -our position we were confronted by two black, gaunt, uncanny objects -with long outstretched arms that cut across the sky like giant skeleton -sentinels forbidding our farther advance. But the sounds of lively music -and the glow of rows of white-globed lamps quickly banished the illusion -and advertised the fact that we were in a very material and sensual -world, for they announced the Moulin de la Galette at the foot of -the passage. The spectres against the sky were only very, very old -windmills, relics of the time, three centuries gone, when windmills -crowded the summit of Montmartre to catch all the winds that blew. Now -they stand, stark, dead, silent, and decaying; their stately revolutions -are no more; and the skeleton frames of their fans look down on a -marvellous contrast, the intensely real life of the Galette. - -[Illustration: 0234] - -We fell in line with many others at the ticket office, and paid the -fifty centimes admission fee (ladies twenty-five centimes). We were -relieved of our hats and canes by a stout old woman in the vestiaire, -who claimed two sous from each. Following the up-hill passage of the -entrance, the walls of which are painted with flowers and garden scenes, -we entered the great ball-room. What a brilliant scene of life and -light!--at first a blur of sound, light, and movement, then gradually -resolving into the simple elements composing it. The floor was covered -with dancers, and the girls were making a generous display of graceful -anatomy. A large band at the farther end of the room, on an inclined -stand, was the vortex of the din. The promenade encircling the hall was -crowded with hatless laughing girls and smooth-faced boys wearing caps -or flat-brimmed low-crowned hats; their trousers fitted tight at the -knees, and their heads were closely cropped. These were strolling in -groups, or watching the dancers, or sitting at the rows of wooden tables -drinking. All within the vast hall had gone to enjoy their Sunday night -as much as possible. To most of the girls this was the one night in -the week when, not tired out from the drudgery of hard work, they could -throw aside all cares and live in the way for which their cramped and -meagre souls yearned. This is a rendezvous for the humble workers of -the city, where they may dress as best they can, exchange their petites -histoires, and abandon themselves to the luxury of the dance; for they -are mostly shop-girls, and blanchisseuses, and the like, who, when -work fails them, have to hover about the dark streets at night, that -prosperous-looking passers-by may be tempted by the pleading of their -dark saucy eyes, or be lured by them to some quiet spot where their -lovers lie in wait with a lithe and competent black slung-shot. No mercy -for the hapless bourgeois then! For the dear Henris and Jacques and -Louises must have their sous for the comforts of life, as well as the -necessities, and such luxuries as tobacco and drink must be considered; -and if the money wherewith all this may be bought is not produced by -Marcelle or Hélène or Marie, she will get a beating for her slothfulness -or lack of skill, and will be driven into the street with a hurting -back to try again. And so Henri, Jacques, or Louis basks in the sun, and -smokes cigarettes with never a care, except that of making his devoted -little mistress perform her duties, knowing well how to retain her -affection by selfishness and brutality. - -This night, however, all that was forgotten. It was the one free, happy -night of the week, the night of abandon and the dance, of laughter, -drinking, and jollity, for which one and all had longed for a whole -impatient and dreary week; and Henri, Jacques, and Louis could spend on -drinks with other of their feminine acquaintances the sous that their -mistresses had provided. The band played lustily; the lights shone; the -room was filled with laughter,--let the dance go on! - -Stationed in different parts of the room were the big soldiers of the -Garde Municipale, in their picturesque uniform so familiar to all -the theatre-goers of Paris. They were here to preserve order, for the -dancers belong to an inflammable class, and a blaze may spring up at -any moment. Equally valuable as a repressing force was a burly, thick- -necked, powerful man who strolled hither and thither, his glance -everywhere and always veiling a threat. He wore a large badge that -proclaimed him the master of ceremonies. True, he was that, which was -something, but he was a great deal more,--a most astonishingly prompt -and capable bouncer. The male frequenters of the place were evidently -in mortal terror of him, for his commanding size and threatening manner, -and his superbly developed muscles, contrasted strikingly with the -cringing manner and weak bodies of Henri and his kind; and should -he look their way with a momentary steadiness of glance and poise of -figure, their conversation would instantly cease, and they would slink -away. - -We seated ourselves at a vacant table that commanded a sweeping view -of the floor and the promenade. A seedy-looking garçon worked his way -through the crowd and took our order for beer; and mean, stale beer it -was. But we did not care for that. Bishop was all afire with enjoyment -of the scene, for, he protested, the place was infinitely rich in types -and character,--the identical types that the great Steinlen loves to -draw. And here is an interesting thing: The girls all were of that chic -and petite order so peculiar to certain classes of Parisian women, some -hardly so high as Bishop's shoulder, which is itself not very high; -and though they looked so small, they were fully developed young women, -though many of them were under twenty. They wore no hats, and for the -most part, unlike their gorgeous sisters of the boulevard _café_s, they -were dressed plainly, wearing black or colored waists and skirts. But -ah!--and here the unapproachable instinct-skill of the French-woman -shows itself,--on these same waists and skirts were placed here and -there, but always just where they ought to be, bows and ribbons; and it -was they that worked the miracle of grace and style. And the girls had -a certain beauty, a beauty peculiar to their class,--not exactly beauty, -but pleasing features, healthy color, and, best of all and explaining -all, an archness of expression, a touch of sauciness, that did for their -faces what the bows and ribbons did for their gowns. - -[Illustration:0240] - -Near us a large door opened into the garden of the Moulin; it was filled -with trees and benches and tables, and amidst the dark foliage glowed -colored Chinese lanterns, which sifted a soft light upon the revellers -assembled beneath them in the cool evening air. On one side of the -garden stretched Paris far down and away, and on the other side blazed -the Moulin de la Galette through the windows. - -A waltz was now being danced. Strange to say, it was the one dismal -feature of the evening, and that was because the French do not know how -to dance it, "reversing" being unknown. And there was an odd variety of -ways in which the men held their partners and the dancers each other. -Some grasped each other tightly about the waist with both arms, or -similarly about the necks or shoulders, and looked straight into each -other's face without a smile or an occasional word. It was all done in -deadly earnest, as a serious work. It was in the quadrille that the -fun came, when the girls varied the usual order by pointing their toes -toward the chandeliers with a swish of white skirts that made the by- -standers cry, "Encore, Marcelle!" The men, yearning for a share of the -applause, cut up all sorts of antics and capers, using their arms -and legs with incredible agility, making grotesque faces, and wearing -hideous false noses and piratical moustaches. - -Securing a partner for a dance was the easiest thing possible. Any girl -was eligible,--simply the asking, the assent, and away they went. - -Bishop's pencil kept moving rapidly as he caught fleeting notes of -faces, dresses, attitudes--everything--for his unfinished piece at the -studio. A number of promenaders, attracted by his sketching, stopped -to watch him. That dance was now finished, and the dancers separated -wherever they stopped, and turned away to seek their separate friends; -there was no waste of time in escorting the girls to seats, for that -is not fashionable at Montmartre. The girls came flocking about Bishop, -curious over his work, and completely shut out his view. "Oh!" exclaimed -one saucy petite blonde, "let me see my portrait! I saw you sketching me -during the dance." - -"_Et moi,--moi aussi!_" cried the others, until Bishop, overwhelmed, -surrendered his book for the inspection of bright, eager eyes. - -"Has not monsieur a cigarette?" archly asked a girl with a decided nez -retroussé. "_Oui_," I answered, handing her a packet, from which with -exquisite, unconscious daintiness she selected one. The whole bevy then -made a similar request, and we were soon enveloped in a blue haze. - -"_Vous ferez mon portrait, n'est-ce-pas?_" begged a dark-eyed beauty of -Bishop, in a smooth, pleasant voice. She had a striking appearance. A -mass of rebellious black hair strove persistently to fall over her oval -face, and when she would neglect to push it back her eyes, dark and -melancholy, shone through its tangle with a singular wild lustre. Her -skin was dark, almost swarthy, but it was touched with a fine rosy glow -of health and youth. Her features were perfect; the nose was slightly -romanesque, the chin firm, the lips red and sensuous. When she drew our -attention with her request she was standing before us in a rigid, half- -defiant, half-commanding posture; but when she quickly added, "I will -pose for you,--see?" and sat down beside me, opposite Bishop, her -striking native grace asserted itself, for from a statue of bronze she -suddenly became all warmth and softness, every line in her perfect, -lithe figure showing her eagerness, and eloquent with coaxing. - -It was clear that Bishop was deeply impressed by the striking picture -that she made; it was her beautiful wild head that fascinated him most. - -"No, I am first," insisted a little vixen, hard-featured and determined. -"_Jamais de la vie!" "C'est moi!_" protested others, with such fire -that I feared there would be trouble. The turmoil had the effect of -withdrawing Bishop's attention momentarily from the beautiful tigress -beside me. He smiled in bewilderment. He would be happy to draw them -all, but---- At last he pacified them by proposing to take them in -turn, provided they would be patient and not bother him. To this they -poutingly agreed; and Bishop, paying no more attention to the girl -beside me, rapidly dashed off sketch after sketch of the other girls. -Exclamations of surprise, delight, or indignation greeted each of the -portraits as it was passed round. Bishop was seeking "character," and as -he was to retain the portraits, he made no efforts at flattery. - -All this time the dark-eyed one had sat in perfect silence and stillness -beside me, watching Bishop in wonder. She had forgotten her hair, and -was gazing through it with more than her eyes as his pencil worked -rapidly. I studied her as well as I could as she sat all heedless of -my existence. Her lips slightly curved at the corners into a faint -suggestion of a smile, but as Bishop's work kept on and the other girls -monopolized him, the lips gradually hardened. The shadow of her chin -fell upon her smooth throat, not darkening it too much for me to observe -that significant movements within it indicated a struggle with her self- -control. Bishop was now sketching a girl, the others having run off to -dance; they would return in their order. The girl beside me said to me, -in a low voice, without looking at me,--"_Monsieur est Anglais?_" - -"No," I answered. - -"Ah! Américain?" - -"Yes." - -"And your friend?" nodding toward Bishop. "American also." - -"Is he----" but she suddenly checked herself with odd abruptness, and -then quickly asked, with a shallow pretence of eager interest, "Is -America far from Paris?" And so she continued to quiz me rather -vacantly concerning a great country of whose whereabouts she had not -the slightest idea. Then she was silent, and I imagined that she was -gathering herself for some supreme effort. Suddenly she turned her -marvellous eyes full toward me, swept the wild hair from her face, -looked almost fiercely at me a moment, and, rigid from head to foot, -asked, half angrily, and then held her breath for the answer,--"Is he -married?" - -The question was asked so suddenly and so strangely, and with so -commanding a manner, that I had not a moment to consider the wisdom of -lying. - -"No," I answered. - -She sank back into her chair with a deep breath, all softness and grace -again, and her wild hair fell back over her face. - -She had lost all interest in the ball. While her companions were -enjoying themselves in the dance, she sat motionless and silent beside -me, watching Bishop. An uncomfortable feeling had taken possession of -me. Presently I abruptly asked her why she did not dance. - -She started. "Dance?" she replied. She looked over the hall, and an -expression of scorn and disgust came into her face. "Not with that -espèce de voyous," she vehemently added; and then she turned to watch -Bishop again. - -I now noticed for the first time that a group of the human vampires, -standing apart at a little distance, were watching us closely and -talking in low tones among themselves. My attention had been drawn to -them by a defiant look that the girl had shot at them. One of them -was particularly repulsive. He was rather larger and stronger than the -others. His garb was that of his species,--tight trousers, a négligé -shirt, and a rakish cap being its distinguishing articles. He stood with -his hands in his pockets and his head thrust forward. He had the low, -brutal face of his kind. It was now pale with rage. - -I asked the girl what her name was. - -"Hélène," she answered, simply. - -Her other name? - -Oh, just Hélène. Sometimes it was Hélène Crespin, for Crespin was her -lover's name. All this with perfect frankness. - -"Where is he?" I asked. - -"_C'est lui avec la casquette_," she answered, indicating the brute whom -I have just described, but I had expected that. "I hate him now!" she -vehemently added. - -No, she had neither father nor mother; had no recollection of parents. -Sometimes she worked in a printing shop in the Rue Victor Massé when -extra hands were needed. - -After the girl who had been posing was dismissed another took her place; -then another, and another, and others; and still others were waiting. -The girl beside me had been watching these proceedings with increasing -impatience. Some of the girls were so delighted that they threw their -arms round Bishop's neck and kissed him. Others called him endearing -names. At last it was evident that the dark girl could bear it no -longer. She had been growing harder and harder, more and more restless. -I continued to watch her narrowly,--she had forgotten my existence. -Gradually the natural rich color in her cheeks deepened, her eyes blazed -through the tangled hair, her lips were set. Suddenly, after a girl had -been more demonstrative than the others, she rose and confronted Bishop. -All this time he had not even looked at her, and that, while making me -uneasy, had made her furious. - -We three were alone. True, we were observed by many, for invasions -by foreigners were very rare at the Moulin de la Galette, and we were -objects of interest on that account; and the sketching by Bishop had -sent our fame throughout the hall. - -In a low, quiet voice the girl said to Bishop, as he looked up at her -wonderingly,--"You promised to draw mine long ago." - -I had never seen my friend more embarrassed than he was at that moment. -He stumbled over his excuses, and then asked her to pose to suit her -fancy. He did it very gently, and the effect was magical. She sank -into her chair and assumed the indolently graceful pose that she had -unconsciously taken when she first seated herself. Bishop gazed at her -in silence a long time before he began the sketch; and then he worked -with a sure and rapid hand. After it was finished he handed it to her. -Instantly she was transfigured. She stared at the picture in wonder -and delight, her lips parted, her chest hardly moving from her nearly -suppressed breathing. - -"Do I look like that?" she asked, suspiciously. Indeed, it was an -exquisite little piece of work, for Bishop had idealized the girl and -made a beautiful portrait. - -"Did you not see me draw it while looking at you?" he replied, somewhat -disingenuously. - -"Will you give it to me?" she asked, eagerly. - -"Certainly." - -"And will you sign your name to it?" - -Bishop cheerfully complied. Then she took it, kissed it, and pressed it -to her bosom; and then, leaning forward, and speaking with a richness -and depth of voice that she had not betrayed before, and in the deepest -earnestness, said,--"_Je vous aime!_" - -Bishop, staggered by this forthright declaration of affection, blushed -violently and looked very foolish. But he rallied and assured her that -her love was reciprocated, for who, he asked, could resist so beautiful -a face, so warm a heart? If he had only known, if I could only have told -him! The girl sank back in her chair with a quizzical, doubting smile -that showed perfect white teeth and changed to bright dimples the -suggestion of a smile that fluttered at her mouth-corners. She carefully -folded the sketch and daintily tucked it away in her bosom. - -Bishop had now quitted work,--Hélène had seen to that. She had moved her -chair close to his, and, looking him straight in the eyes, was rattling -away in the untranslatable argot of Montmartre. It is not the argot of -the slums, nor that of the thieves, nor that of the students, but that -of Montmartre; and there are no ways of expressing it intelligibly in -English. Presently she became more serious, and with all the coaxing -and pleading of which her ardent, impetuous nature was capable, she -begged,-- "Let me be your model. _Je suis bien faite_, and you can teach -me to pose. You will be kind to me. I have a good figure. I will do -everything, everything for you! I will take care of the studio. I will -cook, I will bring you everything, everything you want. You will let -me live with you. I will love no one else. You will never be sorry nor -ashamed. If you will only----" That is the best translation I can give; -it is certainly what she meant, though it indicates nothing of the -impetuosity, the abandon, the eagerness, the warmth, the savage beauty -that shone from her as she spoke. - -Bishop rose to the occasion. He sprang to his feet. "I must dance after -that!" he exclaimed, catching her up, laughing, and dragging her upon -the floor. He could dance superbly. A waltz was being played, and it was -being danced in the stiff and stupid way of the people. Very soon Bishop -and Hélène began to attract general attention, for never before had -Montmartre seen a waltz danced like that. He reversed, and glided, -and threw into the queen of dances all the grace and freedom that it -demands. At first Hélène was puzzled and bewildered; but she was agile -both of mind and body, and under Bishop's sure guidance she put them to -excellent use. Rapidly she caught the grace and spirit of the waltz, -and danced with a verve that she had never known before. Swiftly and -gracefully they skimmed the length of the great hall, then back, and -wherever they went the dancers watched them with astonishment and -delight, and gradually abandoned their own ungraceful efforts, partly in -shame, partly in admiration, and partly with a desire to learn how the -miracle was done. Gradually the floor was wholly abandoned except for -these two, and all eyes watched them. Hélène was happy and radiant -beyond all ways of telling. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkled, -her lithe figure developed all the ease, grace, and suppleness of a cat. - -Some muttered expressions of contempt spoken near me caused me to listen -without turning round. They were meant for my ears, but I gave no heed. -I knew well enough from whom they came,--Crespin and his friends. And -I realized that we were in for it. True, there were the big guards and -there was the capable bouncer, and they would glance my way now and -then, seemingly to let Crespin know that all was understood and that it -must be hands off with him. There was no danger here, but -afterwards--The waltz came to an end, and the two were vigorously -applauded. This was a critical moment, but Bishop handled it adroitly. -He conducted Hélène to a seat remote from our table, bowed low, and left -her, and came over to me. I told him of my fears, but he laughed. He had -got rid of Hélène with perfect address, and perhaps she was nursing an -angry and aching heart after her glorious triumph; perhaps Bishop had -whispered to her something of the danger and suggested that they have -nothing more to do with each other that evening. - -[Illustration: 9251] - -Presently I saw her start and look round. Crespin was behind her, livid -with rage. She promptly rose and followed him into the garden. Bishop -had not seen the movement. We were near the door leading into the -garden, and by turning a little I could see the couple outside, not -far away. Crespin was standing with a bullying air, and was evidently -cursing her. She had tossed back her hair and was looking him defiantly -in the face. I saw her lips move in speech. Instantly the ruffian dealt -her a violent blow upon the chest, and she staggered back against a -tree, which prevented her falling. - -"Come, let us stop that," I said to Bishop. "Hélène's lover is beating -her in the garden." Bishop sprang to his feet and followed me. As he -glanced out the window at the couple, whom I pointed out, he saw Crespin -approach the dazed girl and deal her a terrible blow in the mouth, and -he saw the blood that followed the blow. - -We arrived in the garden as a crowd was gathering. Bishop pushed his way -ahead and was about to spring upon the brute, when Hélène saw him. With -a supreme effort she leaped forward, thrust Bishop aside with a command -to mind his own affairs, threw herself into her lover's arms, and kissed -him, smearing his face with her blood. He glared at us, triumphant. The -guards arrived, and Hélène and her lover disappeared among the trees in -the darkness. - -"Oh, another unfaithful cocotte!" laughed one in the crowd, explaining -to the guards; and they returned to their drinking and dancing, -remarking, "Beat a woman, and she will love you." - -They had all missed the heroism and devotion of Hélène's interference. -It was to keep a knife out of the body of the man she loved that she -smeared her lover's face with her blood. We saw her no more. - -We returned to the hall and strolled round the promenade, for we needed -that to become calm again. And the girls mobbed Bishop, for he had -passed out the word that he wanted a model, and that he would pay a -franc an hour. A franc an hour! And so they mobbed him. Was not that -more than they could hope to earn by a whole day's hard work? Yes, they -would all pose gladly, but only in costume, bien entendu! So Bishop was -busy taking down the names of Marcelle, Lorette, Elise, Marie, and the -rest, with the names of the queer and unheard-of streets in which they -lived, mostly in the quarters of Montmartre and the Batignolles. - -The can-can was now raging on the floor, and the tired garçons were -dodging about with their glassladen trays. Dancing, making love, -throwing lumps of sugar, the revellers enjoyed themselves. - -We left. The moon cast gaunt shadows across the streets from the old -windmills and the trees. We struck out briskly, intending to catch the -last St.-Jacques 'bus home, and with that purpose we threaded the -maze of steep passages and streets on our way to the Rue Muller. Upon -reaching the top of the hill, behind the great skeleton of the Sacred -Heart, where all was silent and still as the grave, we suddenly -discovered the shadowy figures of men slipping out from a dark little -street. We knew what it meant. With a common impulse we sprang forward, -for it was now a run for our lives. I had recognized Crespin in the -lead. With headlong speed we dashed down the steep incline, swinging our -canes to check an attack in the rear. We had dodged out of our proper -way to the Rue Muller, and now it was a matter of speed, endurance, and -luck to reach blindly some street where life and protection might be -found. - -A man clutched my coat. I beat him off with my stick, but the skirt of -my coat was hanging loose, nearly ripped off. A cord went whizzing past -me and caught Bishop's hat, but he went sturdily on bareheaded. Stones -flew past us, and presently one caught me a terrific, sickening blow in -the back. I did not fall, but I staggered in my flight, for a strange -heaviness came into my legs, and my head soon began to ache violently. - -Crespin was desperately active. I could hear him panting heavily as he -gained upon us. His long shadow, cast by the moon, showed that he was -about to spring upon Bishop. I swung my cane blindly, but with all -my might, and it fell upon his head and laid him low; but he quickly -scrambled to his feet again. The ruffians were now upon us,--they were -better used to the hill than we. - -"Separate!" gasped Bishop. "It is our only chance." At the next corner -we suddenly swung apart, taking opposite directions. I plunged on alone, -glad to hear for a time that footfalls were following,--they meant that -the pursuit had not concentrated on Bishop. But after a while I realized -that I was no longer pursued. I stopped and listened. There was no -sound. Weak and trembling, with an aching back and a splitting head, I -sat down in a door-way and rested. That luxury was quickly interrupted -by my reflecting that possibly Bishop had been overtaken; and I knew -what that would mean. I ran back up the hill as rapidly as my weakness -and trembling and pain permitted. At last I found myself at the corner -where we had separated. There was no sound from any direction. I could -only hope for the best and search and listen blindly through this puzzle -of streets and passages. - -Presently I realized that I was near the fortifications of Paris, -close to St. Ouen,--that is to say, at the other end of Paris from the -Quartier Latin, which was eight miles away. There was nothing to do -but walk home. It was nearly four o'clock when I arrived. And there was -Bishop in bed, nursing a big lump on his head, made by a flying stone. -He had reached a street where a gendarme was, and that meant safety; and -then he had taken a cab for home, where he was looking very ridiculous -poulticing his lump and making himself sick fretting about me. - -[Illustration: 5255] - - - - -A NIGHT ON MONTMARTE - - -[Illustration: 0256] - - -NEAR the end of a recent December Bishop received a note signed "A. -Herbert Thomp-kins," written at the Hôtel de l'Athénée, saying that the -writer was in Paris for four days with his wife before proceeding to -Vienna to join some friends. It closed by asking, "Could you call at the -hotel this evening, say at seven?" - -This note created great excitement at our studio early one morning, the -facteur having climbed six flights of stairs (it being near to New Year) -to deliver it; for Mr. Thompkins was one of Bishop's warmest friends in -America. His unexpected arrival in Paris at this unseasonable time of -the year was indeed a surprise, but a most agreeable one. So Bishop -spent the whole of the afternoon in creasing his best trousers, -ransacking our trunks for a clean collar to wear with my blue-fronted -shirt, polishing his top-hat, and getting his Velasquez whiskers trimmed -and perfumed at the coiffeur's. It was not every day that friends of Mr. -Thompkins's type made their appearance in Paris. - -Bishop, after hours spent in absorbing mental work, at last disclosed -his plan to me. Of course he would not permit me to keep out of the -party, and besides, he needed my advice. - -[Illustration: 0257] - -Here was Mr. Thompkins in Paris, and unless he were wisely guided he -would leave without seeing the city,--except those parts and phases of -it that tourists cannot keep from stumbling over. It would be both a -duty and a pleasure to introduce him to certain things of which he might -otherwise die in ignorance, to the eternal undevelopment of his soul. -But here was the rub: Would Mr. Thompkins care to be so radically -different here for one night--just one night--from what he was at home? -I could not see how any harm could come to Mr. Thompkins or any one else -with sense, nor how Bishop could possibly entertain him in anyway that -would be disagreeable to a man of brains. But Bishop was evidently -keeping something back. For that matter, he never did explain it, and I -have not bothered about inferences. What Mr. Thompkins was at home I do -not know. True, he was very much confused and embarrassed a number of -times during the evening, but one thing I know,--he enjoyed himself -immensely. And that makes me say that no matter what he was at home, he -was a gentleman and philosopher while exploring an outlandish phase of -Parisian Bohemian life that night under our guidance. He had a prim, -precise way of talking, and was delightfully innocent and unworldly. My! -it would have been a sin for him to miss what he saw that night. So I -told Bishop very emphatically that no matter what Mr. Thompkins was at -home, nobody who knew him was likely to see him in Paris at that time -of the year, and that it was Bishop's duty as a friend to initiate -him. Bishop was very happy over my advice; but when he insisted that we -should take a cab for the evening's outing, I sternly reminded him of -the bruises that our funds would receive on New Year's, and thus -curbed his extravagance. He surrendered with a pang, for after all his -preparation he felt like a duke, and for that night, while entertaining -his friend, he wanted to be a duke, not a grubbing student. - -We met Mr. Thompkins at the hotel, and I found him a delightful man, -with a pleasant sparkle of the eye and a certain stiffness of bearing. -It was his intention to have us dine with him, but Bishop gently took -him in hand, and gradually gave him to understand that on this night in -a lifetime he was in the hands of his friends, to do as they said, and -to ask no questions. Mr. Thompkins looked a little puzzled, a little -apprehensive, and withal not unwilling to be sacrificed. - -The first thing we did was to introduce Mr. Thompkins to a quiet -restaurant famous for its coquilles St.-Jacques; it is in the old Palais -Royal. This is the dinner that Bishop ordered: - -Huîtres Portugaises. - -Sauterne. Médoc. - -Consommé. - -Coquilles St.-Jacques. - -Macaroni à la Milanaise. - -Filet de bouf. - -Pommes nouvelles sautées. - -Crème petit Suisse. - -Eclairs. - -Café. - -Mr. Thompkins's enjoyment of the meal was as generous as his praise -of Bishop's skill in ordering it, and he declared that the wines -particularly were a rare treat. By the time that dinner had been -finished he was enthusiastic about Paris. He said that it was a -wonderful city, and that he was entirely at our disposal for the night. - -"I suppose, gentlemen," he suggested, "that you are going to invite me -to the opera. Now, I have no objections to that, and I am sure I shall -be delighted,--it is only one evening in a lifetime, perhaps. But I -shall insist that you go as my guests." - -Bishop laughed merrily, and slapped his friend on the back in a way that -I never should have employed with a man of so much dignity. - -"The opera, old man!" cried Bishop. "Why, you blessed idiot, you act -like a tourist! The opera! You can go there any time. To-night we shall -see Paris!" and he laughed again. "The opera!" he repeated. "Oh, my! You -can fall over the opera whenever you please. This is an opportunity for -a tour of discovery." - -Mr. Thompkins laughed with equal heartiness, and declared that nothing -would delight him more than to be an explorer--for one night in a -lifetime. - -"The Boul' Mich' or Montmartre?" Bishop whispered to me. - -"Montmartre," I replied; "Heaven, Death, Hell, and Bruant." - -Never had the Avenue de l'Opéra appeared so brilliant and lively as on -that cold, crisp December night, as we strolled towards the boulevards. -Its thousands of lights, its dashing equipages with the jingling harness -of horses drawing handsome women and men to the Opéra, its swiftly -moving cabs and heavy 'buses rolling over the smooth wooden pavement, -the shouts of drivers and the cracking of whips, the throngs of gay -people enjoying the holiday attractions, the endless rows of gaudy -booths lining the street, the flood of light and color everywhere, the -cuirassiers of the Garde Municipale mounted on superb horses standing -motionless in the Place de l'Opéra, their long boots and steel -breastplates and helmets glistening,--these all had their place,--while -the broad stairs of the Opéra were crowded with beautifully gowned women -and fashionable men pouring in to hear Sibyl Sanderson sing in "Samson -and Delilah,"--all this made a wonderful picture of life and beauty, of -color, motion, vivacity, and enjoyment. Above the entrance to the Opéra -red marble columns reflected the yellow light of the gilded foyer and of -the yellow blaze from the Café de la Paix across the way. - -We mounted a Montmartre 'bus and were pulled up the hill to the Boul' -Clichy, the main artery of that strange Bohemian mountain with its -eccentric, fantastic, and morbid attractions. Before us, in the Place -Blanche, stood the great Moulin Rouge, the long skeleton arms of the -Red Mill marked with red electric lights and slowly sweeping across the -heavens, while fanciful figures of students and dancing girls looked out -the windows of the mill, and a great crowd of lively, chatting, laughing -people were pushing their way toward the entrance of this famous dance- -hall of Paris. Mr. Thompkins, entranced before the brilliant spectacle, -asked somewhat hesitatingly if we might enter; but Bishop, wise in the -ways of Montmartre, replied,--"Not yet. It is only a little after nine, -and the Moulin does not get wide awake for some hours yet. We have no -time to waste while waiting for that. We shall first visit heaven." - -[Illustration: 0263] - -Mr. Thompkins looked surprised, but made no response. Presently we -reached the gilded gates of Le Cabaret du Ciel. They were bathed in a -cold blue light from above. Angels, gold-lined clouds, saints, sacred -palms and plants, and other paraphernalia suggestive of the approach to -St. Peter's domain, filled all the available space about the entrée. A -bold white placard, "_Bock, i Franc_," was displayed in the midst of it -all. Dolorous church music sounded within, and the heavens were unrolled -as a scroll in all their tinsel splendor as we entered to the bidding of -an angel. - -Flitting about the room were many more angels, all in white robes and -with sandals on their feet, and all wearing gauzy wings swaying from -their shoulder-blades and brass halos above their yellow wigs. These -were the waiters, the garçons of heaven, ready to take orders for -drinks. One of these, with the face of a heavy villain in a melodrama -and a beard a week old, roared unmelodiously,--"The greetings of heaven -to thee, brothers! Eternal bliss and happiness are for thee. Mayst thou -never swerve from its golden paths! Breathe thou its sacred purity and -renovating exaltation. Prepare to meet thy great Creator--and don't -forget the garçon!" - -A very long table covered with white extended the whole length of the -chilly room, and seated at it, drinking, were scores of candidates for -angelship,--mortals like ourselves. Men and women were they, and though -noisy and vivacious, they indulged in nothing like the abandon of the -Boul' Mich' _café_s. Gilded vases and candelabra, together with foamy -bocks, somewhat relieved the dead whiteness of the table. The ceiling -was an impressionistic rendering of blue sky, fleecy clouds, and stars, -and the walls were made to represent the noble enclosure and golden -gates of paradise. - -[Illustration: 8264] - -"Brothers, your orders! Command me, thy servant!" growled a ferocious -angel at our elbows, with his accent de la Villette, and his brass halo -a trifle askew. - -Mr. Thompkins had been very quiet, for he was Wonder in the flesh, and -perhaps there was some distress in his lace, but there was courage also. -The suddenness of the angel's assault visibly disconcerted him,--he did -not know what to order. Finally he decided on a verre de Chartreuse, -green. Bishop and I ordered bocks. - -"Two sparkling draughts of heaven's own brew and one star-dazzler!" -yelled our angel. - -"Thy will be done," came the response from a hidden bar. - -Obscured by great masses of clouds, through whose intervals shone golden -stars, an organ continually rumbled sacred music, which had a depressing -rather than a solemn effect, and even the draughts of heaven's own brew -and the star-dazzler failed to dissipate the gloom. - -Suddenly, without the slightest warning, the head of St. Peter, whiskers -and all, appeared in a hole in the sky, and presently all of him -emerged, even to his ponderous keys clanging at his girdle. He gazed -solemnly down upon the crowd at the tables and thoughtfully scratched -his left wing. From behind a dark cloud he brought forth a vessel of -white crockery (which was not a wash-bowl) containing (ostensibly) holy -water. After several mysterious signs and passes with his bony hands he -generously sprinkled the sinners below with a brush dipped in the water; -and then, with a parting blessing, he slowly faded into mist. - -"Did you ever? Well, well, I declare!" exclaimed Mr. Thompkins, -breathlessly. - -[Illustration: 0266] - -The royal cortège of the kingdom of heaven was now forming at one end of -the room before a shrine, whereon an immense golden pig sat sedately on -his haunches, looking friendly and jovial, his loose skin and fat jowls -hanging in folds. Lighted candles sputtered about his golden sides. As -the participants in the pageant, all attachés of the place, formed for -the procession, each bowed reverently and crossed himself before the -huge porker. A small man, dressed in a loose black gown and black skull- -cap, evidently made up for Dante, whom he resembled, officiated as -master of ceremonies. He mounted a golden pulpit, and delivered, in a -loud, rasping voice, a tedious discourse on heaven and allied things. -He dwelt on the attractions of heaven as a perpetual summer resort, an -unbroken round of pleasures in variety, where sweet strains of angelic -music (indicating the wheezy organ), together with unlimited stores of -heaven's own sparkling fire of life, at a franc a bock, and beautiful -goldenhaired cherubs, of la Villette's finest, lent grace and perfection -to the scheme. - -[Illustration: 8268] - -The parade then began its tour about the room, Dante, carrying a staff -surmounted by a golden bull, serving as drum-major. Angel musicians, -playing upon sacred lyres and harps, followed in his wake, but the -dolorous organ made the more noise. Behind the lyre angels came a number -of the notables whom Dante immortalized,--at least, we judged that they -were so intended. The angel garçons closed the cortège, their gauzy -wings and brass halos bobbing in a stately fashion as they strode along. - -The angel garçons now sauntered up and gave us each a ticket admitting -us to the angel-room and the other delights of the inner heaven. - -"Youarre Eengleesh?" he asked. "Yes? Ah, theece Eengleesh arre verra -genereauz," eyeing his fifty-centime tip with a questioning shrug. -"Can you not make me un franc? Ah, eet ees dam cold in theece laigs," -pointing to his calves, which were encased in diaphanous pink tights. He -got his franc. - -Dante announced in his rasping voice that those mortals wishing to -become angels should proceed up to the angel-room. All advanced and -ascended the inclined passage-way leading into the blue. At the farther -end of the passage sat old St. Peter, solemn and shivering, for it was -draughty there among the clouds. He collected our tickets, gave the -password admitting us to the inner precincts, and resented Bishop's -attempts to pluck a feather from his wings. We entered a large room, -all a glamour of gold and silver. The walls were studded with blazing -nuggets, colored canvas rocks, and electric lights. We took seats on -wooden benches fronting a cleft in the rocks, and waited. - -Soon the chamber in which we sat became perfectly dark, the cleft before -us shining with a dim bluish light. The cleft then came to life with a -bevy of female angels floating through the limited ethereal space, and -smiling down upon us mortals. One of the lady angel's tights bagged at -the knees, and another's wings were not on straight; but this did not -interfere with her flight, any more than did the stationary position -of the wings of all. But it was all very easily and gracefully done, -swooping down, soaring, and swinging in circles like so many great -eagles. They seemed to discover something of unusual interest in Mr. -Thompkins, for they singled him out to throw kisses at him. This made -him blush and fidget, but a word from Bishop reassured him,--it was only -once in a lifetime! - -After these angels had gyrated for some time, the head angel of the -angel-room requested those who desired to become angels to step forward. -A number responded, among them some of the naughty dancing-girls of -the Moulin Rouge. They were conducted through a concealed door, and -presently we beheld them soaring in the empyrean just as happy and -serene as though they were used to being angels. It was a marvel to see -wings so frail transport with so much ease a very stout young woman from -the audience, and their being fully clothed did not seem to make any -difference. - -Mr. Thompkins had sat in a singularly contemplative mood after the -real angels had quit torturing him, and surprised us beyond measure by -promptly responding to a second call for those aspiring to angelhood. -He disappeared with another batch from the Moulin Rouge, and soon -afterwards we saw him floating like an airship. He even wore his hat. -To his disgust and chagrin, however, one of the concert-hall angels -persisted in flying in front of him and making violent love to him. -This brought forth tumultuous applause and laughter, which completed -Mr. Thompkins's misery. At this juncture the blue cleft became dark, the -angel-room burst into light, and soon Mr. Thompkins rejoined us. - -As we filed out into the passage Father Time stood with long whiskers -and scythe, greeted us with profound bows, and promised that his scythe -would spare us for many happy years did we but drop sous into his hour- -glass. - -There was no conversation among us when we emerged upon the boulevard, -for Mr. Thompkins was in a retrospective frame of mind. Bishop embraced -the opportunity to lead us up the Boulevard Clichy to the Place Pigalle. -As we neared the Place we saw on the opposite side of the street two -flickering iron lanterns that threw a ghastly green light down upon the -barred dead-black shutters of the building, and caught the faces of the -passers-by with sickly rays that took out all the life and transformed -them into the semblance of corpses. Across the top of the closed black -entrance were large white letters, reading simply: "_Cafe du Néant_" - -The entrance was heavily draped with black cerements, having white -trimmings,--such as hang before the houses of the dead in Paris. Here -patrolled a solitary croque-mort, or hired pall-bearer, his black cape -drawn closely about him, the green light reflected by his glazed -top- hat. A more dismal and forbidding place it would be difficult to -imagine. Mr. Thompkins paled a little when he discovered that this was -our destination,--this grisly caricature of eternal nothingness,--and -hesitated at the threshold. Without a word Bishop firmly took his arm -and entered. The lonely croque-mort drew apart the heavy curtain and -admitted us into a black hole that proved later to be a room. The -chamber was dimly lighted with wax tapers, and a large chandelier -intricately devised of human skulls and arms, with funeral candles held -in their fleshless fingers, gave its small quota of light. - -Large, heavy, wooden coffins, resting on biers, were ranged about -the room in an order suggesting the recent happening of a frightful -catastrophe. The walls were decorated with skulls and bones, skeletons -in grotesque attitudes, battle-pictures, and guillotines in action. -Death, carnage, assassination were the dominant note, set in black -hangings and illuminated with mottoes on death. A half-dozen voices -droned this in a low monotone: - -"Enter, mortals of this sinful world, enter into the mists and -shadows of eternity. Select your biers, to the right, to the left; -fit yourselves comfortably to them, and repose in the solemnity and -tranquillity of death; and may God have mercy on your souls!" - -A number of persons who had preceded us had already pre-empted their -coffins, and were sitting beside them awaiting developments and enjoying -their consommations, using the coffins for their real purpose,--tables -for holding drinking-glasses. Alongside the glasses were slender tapers -by which the visitors might see one another. - -[Illustration: 0273] - -There seemed to be no mechanical imperfection in the illusion of a -charnel-house; we imagined that even chemistry had contributed its -resources, for there seemed distinctly to be the odor appropriate to -such a place. - -We found a vacant coffin in the vault, seated ourselves at it on rush- -bottomed stools, and awaited further developments. - -[Illustration: 8274] - -Another croque-mort--a garçon he was--came up through the gloom to take -our orders. He was dressed completely in the professional garb of a -hearse-follower, including claw-hammer coat, full-dress front, glazed -tile, and oval silver badge. He droned,--"_Bon soir, Macchabées! * Buvez -les crachats d'asthmatiques, voilà des sueurs froides d'agonisants. -Prenez donc des certificats de décès, seulement vingt sous. C'est pas -cher et c'est artistique!_" - -* This word (also Maccabe, argot Macabit) is given in Paris by sailors -to cadavers found floating in the river. - -Bishop said that he would be pleased with a lowly bock. Mr. Thompkins -chose cherries à l'eau-de-vie, and I, une menthe. - -"One microbe of Asiatic cholera from the last corpse, one leg of a -lively cancer, and one sample of our consumption germ!" moaned the -creature toward a black hole at the farther end of the room. - -Some women among the visitors tittered, others shuddered, and Mr. -Thompkins broke out in a cold sweat on his brow, while a curious -accompaniment of anger shone in his eyes. Our sleepy pallbearer soon -loomed through the darkness with our deadly microbes, and waked the -echoes in the hollow casket upon which he set the glasses with a thump. - -"Drink, Macchabées!" he wailed: "drink these noxious potions, which -contain the vilest and deadliest poisons!" - -"The villain!" gasped Mr. Thompkins; "it is horrible, disgusting, -filthy!" - -The tapers flickered feebly on the coffins, and the white skulls grinned -at him mockingly from their sable background. Bishop exhausted all -his tactics in trying to induce Mr. Thompkins to taste his bran-died -cherries, but that gentleman positively refused,--he seemed unable to -banish the idea that they were laden with disease germs. - -After we had been seated here for some time, getting no consolation -from the utter absence of spirit and levity among the other guests, and -enjoying only the dismay and trepidation of new and strange arrivals, a -rather good-looking young fellow, dressed in a black clerical coat, -came through a dark door and began to address the assembled patrons. His -voice was smooth, his manner solemn and impressive, as he delivered a -well-worded discourse on death. He spoke of it as the gate through -which we must all make our exit from this world,--of the gloom, the -loneliness, the utter sense of helplessness and desolation. As he warmed -to his subject he enlarged upon the follies that hasten the advent of -death, and spoke of the relentless certainty and the incredible variety -of ways in which the reaper claims his victims. Then he passed on to the -terrors of actual dissolution, the tortures of the body, the rending of -the soul, the unimaginable agonies that sensibilities rendered acutely -susceptible at this extremity are called upon to endure. It required -good nerves to listen to that, for the man was perfect in his rôle. From -matters of individual interest in death he passed to death in its larger -aspects. He pointed to a large and striking battle scene, in which the -combatants had come to hand-to-hand fighting, and were butchering one -another in a mad lust for blood. Suddenly the picture began to glow, the -light bringing out its ghastly details with hideous distinctness. Then -as suddenly it faded away, and where fighting men had been there were -skeletons writhing and struggling in a deadly embrace. - -A similar effect was produced with a painting giving a wonderfully -realistic representation of an execution by the guillotine. The bleeding -trunk of the victim lying upon the flap-board dissolved, the flesh -slowly disappearing, leaving only the white bones. Another picture, -representing a brilliant dance-hall filled with happy revellers, slowly -merged into a grotesque dance of skeletons; and thus it was with the -other pictures about the room. - -All this being done, the master of ceremonies, in lugubrious tones, -invited us to enter the chambre de la mort. All the visitors rose, and, -bearing each a taper, passed in single file into a narrow, dark passage -faintly illuminated with sickly green lights, the young man in clerical -garb acting as pilot. The cross effects of green and yellow lights -on the faces of the groping procession were more startling than -picturesque. The way was lined with bones, skulls, and fragments of -human bodies. - -[Illustration: 0277] - -"O Macchabées, nous sommes devant la porte de la chambre de la mort!" -wailed an unearthly voice from the farther end of the passage as we -advanced. Then before us appeared a solitary figure standing beneath a -green lamp. The figure was completely shrouded in black, only the eyes -being visible, and they shone through holes in the pointed cowl. From -the folds of the gown it brought forth a massive iron key attached to -a chain, and, approaching a door seemingly made of iron and heavily -studded with spikes and crossed with bars, inserted and turned the key; -the bolts moved with a harsh, grating noise, and the door of the chamber -of death swung slowly open. - -"O Macchabées, enter into eternity, whence none ever return!" cried the -new, strange voice. - -The walls of the room were a dead and unrelieved black. At one side two -tall candles were burning, but their feeble light was insufficient even -to disclose the presence of the black walls of the chamber or indicate -that anything but unending blackness extended heavenward. There was not -a thing to catch and reflect a single ray of the light and thus become -visible in the blackness. - -Between the two candles was an upright opening in the wall; it was of -the shape of a coffin. We were seated upon rows of small black caskets -resting on the floor in front of the candles. There was hardly a whisper -among the visitors. The black-hooded figure passed silently out of view -and vanished in the darkness. - -Presently a pale, greenish-white illumination began to light up the -coffin-shaped hole in the wall, clearly marking its outline against the -black. Within this space there stood a coffin upright, in which a pretty -young woman, robed in a white shroud, fitted snugly. Soon it was evident -that she was very much alive, for she smiled and looked at us saucily. -But that was not for long. From the depths came a dismal wail: - -"O Macchabée, beautiful, breathing mortal, pulsating with the warmth and -richness of life, thou art now in the grasp of death! Compose thy soul -for the end!" - -Her face slowly became white and rigid; her eyes sank; her lips -tightened across her teeth; her cheeks took on the hollowness of -death,-- she was dead. But it did not end with that. From white the face -slowly grew livid... then purplish black.... The eyes visibly shrank -into their greenish-yellow sockets.... Slowly the hair fell away.... -The nose melted away into a purple putrid spot. The whole face became a -semi- liquid mass of corruption. Presently all this had disappeared, and -a gleaming skull shone where so recently had been the handsome face of -a woman; naked teeth grinned inanely and savagely where rosy lips had -so recently smiled. Even the shroud had gradually disappeared, and an -entire skeleton stood revealed in the coffin. - -The wail again rang through the silent vault: - -"Ah, ah, Macchabée! Thou hast reached the last stage of dissolution, -so dreadful to mortals. The work that follows death is complete. But -despair not, for death is not the end of all. The power is given to -those who merit it, not only to return to life, but to return in any -form and station preferred to the old. So return if thou deservedst and -desirest." - -[Illustration: 0280] - -With a slowness equal to that of the dissolution, the bones became -covered with flesh and cerements, and all the ghastly steps were -reproduced reversed. Gradually the sparkle of the eyes began to shine -through the gloom; but when the reformation was completed, behold! -there was no longer the handsome and smiling young woman, but the sleek, -rotund body, ruddy cheeks, and self-conscious look of a banker. It was -not until this touch of comedy relieved the strain that the rigidity -with which Mr. Thompkins had sat between us began to relax, and a smile -played over his face,--a bewildered, but none the less a pleasant, -smile. The prosperous banker stepped forth, sleek and tangible, and -haughtily strode away before our eyes, passing through the audience -into the darkness. Again was the coffin-shaped hole in the wall dark and -empty. - -He of the black gown and pointed hood now emerged through an invisible -door, and asked if there was any one in the audience who desired to -pass through the experience that they had just witnessed. This created a -suppressed commotion; each peered into the face of his neighbor to find -one with courage sufficient for the ordeal. Bishop suggested to Mr. -Thompkins in a whisper that he submit himself, but that gentleman very -peremptorily declined. Then, after a pause, Bishop stepped forth and -announced that he was prepared to die. He was asked solemnly by the -doleful person if he was ready to accept all the consequences of his -decision. He replied that he was. Then he disappeared through the black -wall, and presently appeared in the greenish-white light of the open -coffin. There he composed himself as he imagined a corpse ought, crossed -his hands upon his breast, suffered the white shroud to be drawn about -him, and awaited results,--after he had made a rueful grimace that threw -the first gleam of suppressed merriment through the oppressed audience. -He passed through all the ghastly stages that the former occupant of the -coffin had experienced, and returned in proper person to life and to his -seat beside Mr. Thompkins, the audience applauding softly. - -A mysterious figure in black waylaid the crowd as it filed out. He held -an inverted skull, into which we were expected to drop sous through -the natural opening there, and it was with the feeling of relief from a -heavy weight that we departed and turned our backs on the green lights -at the entrance. - -What a wonderful contrast! Here we were in the free, wide, noisy, -brilliant world again. Here again were the crowds, the venders, saucy -grisettes with their bright smiles, shining teeth, and alluring glances. -Here again were the bustling _café_s, the music, the lights, the life, -and above all the giant arms of the Moulin Rouge sweeping the sky. - -"Now," quietly remarked Bishop, "having passed through death, we will -explore hell." - -Mr. Thompkins seemed too weak, or unresisting, or apathetic to protest. -His face betrayed a queer mixture of emotions, part suffering, part -revulsion, part a sort of desperate eagerness for more. - -[Illustration: 0284] - -We passed through a large, hideous, fanged, open mouth in an enormous -face from which shone eyes of blazing crimson. Curiously enough, it -adjoined heaven, whose cool blue lights contrasted strikingly with -the fierce ruddiness of hell. Red-hot bars and gratings through which -flaming coals gleamed appeared in the walls within the red mouth. A -placard announced that should the temperature of this inferno make one -thirsty, innumerable bocks might be had at sixty-five centimes each. A -little red imp guarded the throat of the monster into whose mouth we had -walked; he was cutting extraordinary capers, and made a great show of -stirring the fires. The red imp opened the imitation heavy metal door -for our passage to the interior, crying,--"Ah, ah, ah! still they come! -Oh, how they will roast!" Then he looked keenly at Mr. Thompkins. It was -interesting to note how that gentleman was always singled out by these -shrewd students of humanity. This particular one added with great gusto, -as he narrowly studied Mr. Thompkins, "Hist! ye infernal whelps; stir -well the coals and heat red the prods, for this is where we take our -revenge on earthly saintliness!" - -"Enter and be damned,--the Evil One awaits you!" growled a chorus of -rough voices as we hesitated before the scene confronting us. - -Near us was suspended a caldron over a fire, and hopping within it were -half a dozen devil musis dans, male and female, playing a selection from -"Faust" on stringed instruments, while red imps stood by, prodding with -red-hot irons those who lagged in their performance. - -Crevices in the walls of this room ran with streams of molten gold and -silver, and here and there were caverns lit up by smouldering fires from -which thick smoke issued, and vapors emitting the odors of a volcano. -Flames would suddenly burst from clefts in the rocks, and thunder -rolled through the caverns. Red imps were everywhere, darting about -noiselessly, some carrying beverages for the thirsty lost souls, others -stirring the fires or turning somersaults. Everything was in a high -state of motion. - -Numerous red tables stood against the fiery walls; at these sat the -visitors. Mr. Thompkins seated himself at one of them. Instantly -it became aglow with a mysterious light, which kept flaring up and -disappearing in an erratic fashion; flames darted from the walls, fires -crackled and roared. One of the imps came to take our order; it was -for three coffees, black, with cognac; and this is how he shrieked the -order: - -"Three seething bumpers of molten sins, with a dash of brimstone -intensifier!" Then, when he had brought it, "This will season your -intestines, and render them invulnerable, for a time at least, to the -tortures of the melted iron that will be soon poured down your throats." -The glasses glowed with a phosphorescent light. "Three francs seventy- -five, please, not counting me. Make it four francs. Thank you well. -Remember that though hell is hot, there are cold drinks if you want -them." - -Presently Satan himself strode into the cavern, gorgeous in his imperial -robe of red, decked with blazing jewels, and brandishing a sword from -which fire flashed. His black moustaches were waxed into sharp points, -and turned rakishly upward above lips upon which a sneering grin -appeared. Thus he leered at the new arrivals in his domain. His -appearance lent new zest to the activity of the imps and musicians, and -all cowered under his glance. Suddenly he burst into a shrieking laugh -that gave one a creepy feeling. It rattled through the cavern with a -startling effect as he strode up and down. It was a triumphant, cruel, -merciless laugh. All at once he paused in front of a demure young -Parisienne seated at a table with her escort, and, eying her keenly, -broke into this speech: - -"Ah, you! Why do you tremble? How many men have you sent hither to -damnation with those beautiful eyes, those rosy, tempting lips? Ah, for -all that, you have found a sufficient hell on earth. But you," he added, -turning fiercely upon her escort, "you will have the finest, the most -exquisite tortures that await the damned. For what? For being a fool. It -is folly more than crime that hell punishes, for crime is a disease and -folly a sin. You fool! For thus hanging upon the witching glance and -oily words of a woman you have filled all hell with fuel for your -roasting. You will suffer such tortures as only the fool invites, -such tortures only as are adequate to punish folly. Prepare for the -inconceivable, the unimaginable, the things that even the king of -hell dare not mention lest the whole structure of damnation totter and -crumble to dust." - -The man winced, and queer wrinkles came into the corners of his mouth. -Then Satan happened to discover Mr. Thompkins, who shrank visibly under -the scorching gaze. Satan made a low, mocking bow. - -"You do me great honor, sir," he declared, unctuously. "You may have -been expecting to avoid me, but reflect upon what you would have missed! -We have many notables here, and you will have charming society. They -do not include pickpockets and thieves, nor any others of the weak, -stunted, crippled, and halting. You will find that most of your -companions are distinguished gentlemen of learning and ability, who, -knowing their duty, failed to perform it. You will be in excellent -company, sir," he concluded, with another low bow. Then, suddenly -turning and sweeping the room with a gesture, he commanded, "To the -hot room, all of you!" while he swung his sword, from which flashes of -lightning trailed and thunder rumbled. - -We were led to the end of a passage, where a red-hot iron door barred -further progress. - -"Oh, oh, within there!" roared Satan. "Open the portal of the hot -chamber, that these fresh arrivals may be introduced to the real -temperature of hell!" - -[Illustration: 0290] - -After numerous signals and mysterious passes the door swung open, and -we entered. It was not so very hot after all. The chamber resembled the -other, except that a small stage occupied one end. A large green snake -crawled out upon this, and suddenly it was transformed into a red devil -with exceedingly long, thin legs, encased in tights that were ripped -in places. He gave some wonderful contortion feats. A poor little white -Pierrot came on and assisted the red devil in black art performances. By -this time we discovered that in spite of the halfmolten condition of -the rock-walls, the room was disagreeably chilly. And that ended our -experience in hell. - -Bishop then led us to the closed, dark front of a house in front of -which stood a suspicious-looking man, who eyed us contemptuously. Bishop -told him that we should like to enter. The man assented with a growl. He -beat upon the door with a stick; a little wicket opened, and a villanous -face peered out at us. - -"What do you want?" came from it in gruff tones. - -"To enter, of course," responded Bishop. - -"Are they, all right, do you think?" asked the face of the sentinel. - -"I think they are harmless," was the answer. - -Several bolts and locks grated, and the stubborn door opened. - -"Enter, you vile specimens of human folly!" hissed the inside guard as -we passed within. "D------all three of you!" - -We had no sooner found ourselves inside than this same person, a short, -stout man, with long hair and a powerful frame, and the face of a -cutthroat, struck a table with the heavy stick that he carried, and -roared to us,--"Sit down!" - -Mr. Thompkins involuntarily cowered, but he gathered himself up and -went with us to seats at the nearest table. While we were doing this the -habitués of the place greeted us with this song, sung in chorus: - - "Oh, là là! c'te gueule-- - - C'te binette. - - Oh, là là, c'te gueule, - - Qu'il a." - -"What are they saying?" asked Mr. Thompkins; but Bishop spared him by -explaining that it was only the latest song. - -[Illustration: 0294] - -The room had a low ceiling crossed by heavy beams. Wrought-iron gas -lamps gave a gloomy light upon the dark, time-browned color of the -place. The beams were loaded with dust, cobwebs, and stains, the result -of years of smoke and accumulation. Upon the walls were dozens of -drawings by Steinlen, illustrating the poems of low life written by the -proprietor of the _café_; for we were in the den of the famous Aristide -Bruant, the poet of the gutter,--Verlaine had a higher place as the poet -of the slums. There were also drawings by Chéret, Willett, and others, -and some clever sketches in oil; the whole effect was artistic. In one -corner was an old fireplace, rich in carvings of grotesque heads and -figures, grilled iron-work, and shining copper vessels. The general -impression was of a mediaeval gun-room. - -Near the fireplace, upon a low platform, was a piano; grouped about it -were four typical Bohemians of lower Bohemia; they wore loads of hair; -their faces had a dissipated look, their fingers were heavily stained by -cigarettes; they wore beards and négligé black cravats. These were all -minor poets, and they took their turn in singing or reciting their own -compositions, afterwards making a tour of the crowded tables with a tin -cup and collecting the sous upon which they lived, and roundly cursing -those who refused to contribute. - -Bishop was so delighted with the pictures on the walls that he proceeded -to examine them, but the bully with the stick thundered,--"Sit down!" -and shook his bludgeon menacingly. Bishop sat down. - -Then the brute swaggered up to us and demanded,--"What the devil do you -want to drink, anyway? Speak up quick!" When he had brought the drinks -he gruffly demanded, "Pay up!" Upon receiving the customary tip he -frowned, glared at us with a threatening manner, and growled, "Humph! -_c'est pas beaucoup!_" and swept the money into his pocket. - -"Goodness! this is an awful place!" exclaimed Mr. Thompkins under his -breath. He seemed to fear being brained at any moment. Retreat had been -rendered impossible by the locking of the door. - -We were prisoners at the will of our jailer, and so were all the others. - -The great Bruant himself sat with a party of congenial Bohemians at a -table near the piano and fireplace; they were drinking bocks and smoking -cigarettes and long-stemmed pipes. On the wall behind them was a rack -holding the pipes of the habitués of the _café_, mostly broken and well -browned. Each pipe was owned by a particular Bohemian, and each had its -special place in the rack. The other tables held a general assortment -of lesser Bohemians and sight-seers, all cowed and silent under the -domination of the bawling ruffian with the stick. Whenever he smiled -(which was rare, a perpetual frown having creased a deep furrow between -his eyes) they smiled also, in great relief, and hung upon every word -that his occasional lapses into an approach to good nature permitted him -to utter. - -The poets and singers howled their productions in rasping voices, and -put a strain upon the strength of the piano; and the minor Bohemians -applauded them heartily and envied them their distinction. - -In the midst of this performance there came a knock upon the door. -The bully walked up to the wicket, peered out, and admitted an elderly -gentleman, accompanied by a lady, evidently his wife. These the habitués -greeted with the following song: - - "Tout les clients sont des cochons-- - - La faridon, la faridon donne. - - - Et surtout les ceux qui s'en vont-- - - La faridon, la faridon donne." - -The gentleman, somewhat abashed by this reception, hesitated a moment, -then sought seats. The two had hardly seated themselves when the burly -ruffian with the stick began to recite a villanous poem reflecting -upon the chastity of married women, emphasizing it with atrocious side -remarks. The gentleman sprang from his seat in a rage and advanced -threateningly upon the brute, who stood leering at him and taking a -firmer hold upon his stick; but the visitor's wife caught the outraged -man by the arm and restrained him. A wordy war ensued (for the gentleman -was a Frenchman), in which the choicest argot of Montmartre and La -Villette was exhausted by the ruffian. He closed by shouting,--"You were -not invited to enter here. You asked the privilege of entering; your -wish was granted. If you don't like it here, get out!" - -The gentleman flung down a franc upon the table, the bolts were -withdrawn, and he and his wife passed out while the roysterers sang,-- - - Tout les clients sont des cochons," etc., - -amid the laughter of the smaller Bohemians. - -Aristide Bruant now rose from his table and strode to the centre of the -room. A perfect silence fell. He is rather a small man, slender, and of -delicate build; he has a thin, sallow face, with piercing black eyes, -prominent cheek-bones, and long raven-black hair falling over his -shoulders from beneath a broad black slouch hat down over his eyes. His -unbuttoned coat showed a red flannel shirt open at the throat; a broad -sash was about his waist; his trousers were tucked into top-boots,--the -ensemble reminding one of Buffalo Bill. He glared sullenly round upon -the people, and then sprang lightly upon a table. From that perch -he recited one of his poems, selected from his book of songs and -monologues. It does not bear reproduction here. For that matter, being -written in the argot of Montmartre, it could hardly be understood even -by French scholars unfamiliar with Montmartre. - -Happily Mr. Thompkins understood not a word of it, smiling perfunctorily -out of politeness while Bruant was uttering things that might have -shocked the most hardened Parisians. There were several young women -present, and while Bruant was reciting they ogled him with genuine -adoration. The other poets hung reverently upon his every word. - -A mighty burst of applause greeted the finish of the recitation; but -Bruant slouched indifferently to his seat, ignoring the ovation. -The bully with the stick immediately stopped the noise by yelling, -"Silence!" This he followed up with the contribution-cup for the -benefit of the idol of Montmartre. With the cup he brought the volume -of Bruant's poems from which he had given the recitation,--a cheaply -printed pamphlet. No one dared refuse to buy, and no change was -returned. Was not this the great Aristide Bruant, the immortal of -Montmartre? - -[Illustration: 0300] - -He was followed by other poets with songs and the banging of the piano. -We presently rose to leave, but the bully shouted,--"Sit down! How dare -you insult the young poet who is now singing?" We submissively resumed -our seats. After a while, in a lull, we respectfully rose again, and the -bully, shouting, "Get out!" unbarred the door and we were free. - -Mr. Thompkins was more deeply puzzled than he had been before that -night. He could not understand that such a resort, where one is bullied -and insulted, could secure patronage. - -"But this is Paris, Mr. Thompkins," explained Bishop, somewhat vaguely; -"and this particular part of Paris is Montmartre." - -Midnight was now close at hand, but Montmartre was in the height of -its gayety. Students, Bohemians, and cocottes were skipping and singing -along the boulevard,--singing the songs of Bruant. The _café_s were -crowded, the theatres and concert halls only in the middle of their -programmes. Cabs were dashing about, some stopping at the Moulin Rouge, -others at the Elysée Montmartre, still others picking up fares for more -distant attractions. - -Bishop halted in front of a quiet-looking house with curtained windows, -and bluntly asked Mr. Thompkins if he would like to go to church. Mr. -Thompkins caught his breath, and an odd, guilty look came into his face. -But before he could make reply Bishop was leading the way within. The -interior of the place certainly looked like a church,--it was fitted -to have that significance. The cold, gray stone walls rose to a vaulted -Gothic ceiling; Gothic pillars and arches and carved wood completed -the architectural effect; statues of saints appeared in niches, some -surmounted by halos of lighted candles; and there were banners bearing -scriptural mottoes. - -[Illustration: 9303] - -The heavy oaken tables on the floor were provided with stiff, high- -backed pulpit-chairs, beautiful in color and carving, and of a Gothic -type, the whole scene suggesting a transept of Notre-Dame. Mr. Thomp- -kins had reverently removed his hat. It was not long afterward that -he quietly replaced it on his head. No notice was taken by us of these -movements. - -At the farther end, where the church altar belonged, was indeed a -handsomely carved altar. Above it sprang a graceful arch, bearing a -canopy beautifully painted in blue, with yellow stars. In the centre was -a painting of Christ upon the cross. The altar was the bar, or caisse, -of this queer _café_, and behind it sat the proprietress, quietly -knitting and waiting to fill orders for drinks. The walls of the _café_ -were almost entirely covered with framed drawings by Rodel; all were -portraits of well-known Bohemians of Montmartre in characteristic -attitudes,--the star patrons of this rendezvous. Many women figured -among them, all Bohemian to the bone. - -[Illustration: 0304] - -This was the Café du Conservatoire, famous for its celebrities, the -poets of Bohemian Paris, among whom Marcel Legay is eminent. It was -evident that the habitués of the Conservatoire were of a much higher -order than those whom we had seen elsewhere. - -[Illustration: 8306] - -They looked more prosperous, were more amiable, and acted more as other -people. - -True, there was much long hair, for that is a disease hard to shake off; -but when it did occur, it was well combed and oiled. And there were -many flat-brimmed "plug" hats, as well as collars,--clean ones, too, -an exceptional thing in Bohemia, laundering being expensive. But the -poverty-haunted Bohemians in the Soleil d'Or are more picturesque. That, -however, is in the Latin Quarter: anything exceptional may be expected -at Montmartre. - -When we had finished our coffee we approached the patronne behind the -bar, and bought billets for the Salle des Poètes at two francs each. -This was a large room crowded with enraptured listeners to Legay, who -was at that moment rendering his song. - - -LES CLOCHES. - - - "Les cloches Catholiques, - - Du haut de leur beffroi, - - Voyaient avec effroi - - La résurrection des Grandes Républiques. - - - Les cloches rêvaient, - - En quatre-vingt onze, - - Les cloches de bronze - - Rêvaient." - - -Legay had quite a distinguished appearance as he stood singing before -the piano. He wore a generously cut frock-coat, and his waistcoat -exposed a spacious show of white shirt-front. - -[Illustration: 9307] - -His long hair was carefully brushed back, his moustaches neatly waxed; -altogether he was dainty and jaunty, and the ladies in the room made no -concealment of their adoration. - -The accompanist was a picturesque character. He was forty-five or fifty -years of age; he had long white hair and a drooping moustache, and his -heavy protruding eyes were suffused with tears evoked by the pathos of -the song. While he gazed up into the singer's face with tear-filled eyes -he was in another life, another world, where there was nothing but -music and poetry unalloyed to constitute his heaven. For Legay sang -charmingly, with an art and a feeling that were never obtrusive; and -his audience was aesthetic. When he had finished he was cheered without -stint, and he clearly showed how much the attention pleased him. - -[Illustration: 8308] - -His song was only one of the numbers on a very interesting programme. -This was the training school of the young poets and song-writers of -upper Bohemia; this was where they made their début and met the test -of that discriminating criticism which decided them to advance upon the -world or conceal themselves for yet a while from its cruel glare; and -were they not but repeating the ordeal of the ancient Greeks, out of -which so many noble things passed into literature? These critics were as -frank with their disapproval as generous with their acceptance. - -Among those who sang were Gustave Corbet, Marius Geffroy, Eugene -Lemercier, Xavier Privas, Delarbre, and Henri Brallet, men as yet -unknown, but likely to make a mark under the training, inspiration, and -severe checks of the Café du Conservatoire. One of the goals for which -these writers strive, and one that, if they win it, means to them -recognition, is to have their poems published in _Gil Blas_, with -illustrations by the peerless Steinlen, as are the works of Legay, and -also of Bruant, le Terrible. - -Marcel Legay is a familiar figure on the boulevards, where his dainty -person is often seen after nightfall, hurrying to one or another of his -haunts, with a small roll of music under his arm, and his fluffy hair -streaming over his shoulders. On certain nights of every week he -sings over in the Latin Quarter, at the Cabaret des Noctambules, Rue -Champollion, near the Chapel of the Sorbonne. - -The other singers that night at the Café du Conservatoire each affected -his peculiar style of habit, gesture, and pose that he deemed most -fetching. The entire programme was of songs: hence the name, Café du -Conservatoire. - -After we had deft, Bishop bought some Brevas cigars; thus fortified, we -headed for the Moulin Rouge. - -It was evident that Mr. Thompkins had reserved his enthusiasm for the -great dance-hall of Montmartre,--Le Moulin Rouge,--with its women of the -half world, its giddiness, its glare, its noise, its naughtiness. - -[Illustration: 0310] - -Here at last we should find all absence of restraint, posing, -sordidness, self-consciousness, and appeals to abnormal appetites. Mr. -Thompkins visibly brightened as we ascended the incline of the entrance -and came within the influence of the life and abandon of the place. -Indeed, it must have seemed like fairy-land to him. The soft glow of -hundreds of lights fell upon the crowds in the ball-room and balconies, -with their shifting streams of color from the moving figures of dancing -women in showy gowns and saucy hats, and its many chatting, laughing, -joyous groups at the tables along the passage and the balconies, -enjoying merry little suppers and varied consommations that kept scores -of garçons continually on the move. A placard announced American Bar; -American and English Drinks--as bald and unashamed as that. Here on high -stools, American free-lunch fashion, ranged along the bar, were English -and American tourists and French dandies sipping Manhattan cocktails -with a cherry, brandy-and-soda, Tom-and-Jerry, and the rest. Along the -walls hung vivid paintings of some of the famous dancing-girls of the -Moulin, their saucy faces half hidden in clouds of lacy white skirts. - -High up on a pretty balcony at the end of the huge ball-room were the -musicians, enjoying their cigarettes and bocks between pieces. A small -stage occupied the opposite end of the room, where a light vaudeville -performance had been given; but that was all over now, and attention -centred in the tables and the dancing. - -The Moulin Rouge resembles very much the Bul-lier; but at the Moulin -the cocottes are much more dashing and gaudy than over in the Quartier, -because the inspector at the door of the Moulin maintains a more -exacting standard on the score of the toilettes of the women whom he -admits free of charge. Women, women, women! There seemed no end of them; -and each was arrayed to the full limit of her means. And there were -French dandies in long-white melton coats that were very tight at the -waist, and that bore large brown-velvet collars; their hair, parted -behind, was brushed toward their ears; they strolled about the place in -numbers, twirling their moustaches and ogling the girls. And there -were French army officers, Martinique negroes, longhaired students and -Montmartre poets, artists, actors, and many three-days-in-Paris English -tourists wearing knickerbockers and golf-caps, and always smoking -bulldog pipes. There were also two parties of American men with their -wives and daughters, and they enjoyed the spectacle with the natural -fulness and responsiveness of their soil. For the Moulin is really now -but a great show place; it has been discovered by the outside world, -and, unlike the other quaint places mentioned in this paper, has -suffered the change that such contact inevitably imparts. It is no -longer the queer old Moulin, genuinely, spontaneously Bohemian. But the -stranger would hardly realize that; and so to Mr. Thompkins it seemed -the brilliant and showy side of Bohemian Paris. By reason of its change -in character it has less interest than the real Bohemian Paris that the -real Bohemians know, enjoy, and jealously guard. - -Many light-footed young women were amusing circles of on-lookers with -spirited dancing and reckless high-kicking; and, being adepts in their -peculiar art, were so flashing and illusory that an attempt to analyze -their movements brought only bewilderment. No bones seemed to hamper -their swiftness and elasticity. The flash of a black stocking would -instantly dissolve into a fleecy cloud of lace, and the whirling air -was a cyclone; and there upon the floor sat the dancer in the "split," -looking up with a merry laugh, flushed cheeks, and sparkling eyes, -twinkling from the shadow of a twisted toque; then over her would sweep -a whirlwind of other dancers, and identities would become inextricably -confused. - -An odd-looking man, with a sad face and marvellously long, thin legs in -tights, did incredible things with those members; he was merely a -long spring without bones, joints, or hinges. His cadaverous face and -glittering black eyes, above which rose a top-hat that never moved from -place, completed the oddity of his appearance. He is always there in the -thickest of the dancing, and his salary is three francs a night. - -We suddenly discovered Mr. Thompkins in a most embarrassing situation. -A bewitching chemical blonde of the clinging type had discovered and -appropriated him; she melted all over him, and poured a stream of bad -English into his ear. She was so very, very thirsty, she pleaded, and -Monsieur was so charming, so much a gentleman,--he was beautiful, too. -Oh, Monsieur would not be so unkind as to remove the soft, plump arm -from round his neck,--surely it did not hurt Monsieur, for was it not -warm and plump, and was not that a pretty dimple in the elbow, and -another even prettier in the shoulder? If Monsieur were not so charming -and gracious the ladies would never, never fall in love with him like -this. And oh, Monsieur, the place was so warm, and dancing makes one so -thirsty! - -Mr. Thompkins's face was a picture of shame and despair, and I have -never seen a more comical expression than that with which he looked -appealingly to us for help. Suppose some one in the hall should happen -to recognize him! Of course there was only one thing to do. Mademoiselle -Blanche's thirst was of that awful kind which only shipwrecked sailors, -travellers lost in a desert, and _café_ dancing-girls can understand. -And so four glasses of beer were ordered. It was beautiful to see the -grace and celerity with which Mademoiselle Blanche disposed of hers, -the passionate eagerness with which she pressed a long kiss upon Mr. -Thompkins's unwilling lips, and the promptness with which she then -picked up his glass, drained it while she looked at him mischievously -over the rim, kissed him again, and fled. - -Mr. Thompkins sat speechless, his face blazing, his whole expression -indescribably foolish. He vigorously wiped his lips with his -handkerchief, and was not himself again for half an hour. - -Innumerable bright little comedies were unconsciously played in all -parts of the room, and they were even more interesting than the antics -of the dancers. - -We presently strolled into the garden of the Moulin, where a performance -is given in the summer. There stood a great white sheet-iron elephant, -remindful of Coney Island. In one of the legs was a small door, from -which a winding stair led into the body of the beast. The entrance fee -was fifty centimes, the ticket-office at the top of the stair. It was a -small room inside the elephant, and there was a small stage in the end -of it, upon which three young women were exercising their abdominal -muscles in the danse du ventre. Mr. Thompkins, dismayed at this, -would have fled had not Bishop captured him and hauled him back to -a conspicuous seat, where the dancing-girls, quickly finding him, -proceeded to make their work as extravagant as possible, throwing him -wicked glances meanwhile, and manifestly enjoying his embarrassment. Of -course the dancers came round presently for offerings of sous. - -We returned to the dance-hall, for it was now closing-up time, and in -order to feel a touch of kinship with America, drank a gin fizz at the -American bar, though it seemed to be a novelty to Mr. Thompkins. - -The streets were alive with the revellers who had been turned out by -the closing of the _café_s, dancehalls, and theatres, and the cries of -cabbies rose above the din of laughter and chatter among the crowds. But -the night was not yet quite finished. Said Bishop,--"We shall now have -coffee at the Red Ass." - -That was below the Place Pigalle, quite a walk down to the Rue de -Maubeuge, through that suddenly quiet centre of artists' studios and -dignified residences. At last we reached L'Âne Rouage,--the Red Ass. -It has a small and unassuming front, except that the window-panes are -profusely decorated with painted flowers and figures, and a red ass -peers down over the narrow door. L'Âne Rouge has no special distinction, -save its artistic interior and the fanciful sketches on its walls. It -is furnished with heavy dark tables and chairs, and iron grilled into -beautiful scrolls and chandeliers,--like the famous Chat Noir, near by. -In fact, L'Âne Rouge resembles an old curiosity shop more than anything -else, for it is filled with all imaginable kinds of antiques, blackened -by age and smoke, and in perfect harmony. It, too, has its particular -clientèle of Bohemians, who come to puff their long pipes that hang in -racks, and recount their hopes, aspirations, achievements, and failures, -occasionally breaking into song. For this they bring forth their -mandolins and guitars, and sing sentimental ditties of their own -composition. There is a charming air of chez soi at the Red Ass; a -spirit of good-fellowship pervades it; and then, the _café_ is small, -cosey, and comfortable, as well as artistic. - -[Illustration: 0318] - -It was in a lively commotion when we crossed the threshold, the place -being filled with littérateurs of the quarter. A celebration was in -progress,--one of their number had just succeeded in finding a publisher -for two volumes of his poetry. It was a notable event, and the lucky -Bohemian, flushed with money, had settled his debts and was now treating -his friends. Although we were strangers to him, he cordially invited us -to share the hospitality of the occasion, and there was great applause -when Bishop presented him with a Brevas cigar. - -"_Bravo, les Anglais! Ce sont des bons types, ceux-là!_" and then they -sang in chorus, a happy, careless, jolly crowd. - -There was a small, thin young sketch artist making crayon portraits of -the successful poet and selling them to the poet's friends for fifty -centimes apiece,--with the poet's autograph, too. - -In response to a call for une chanson Anglaise, Bishop sang "Down on the -Farm" as he had never sung it before, his shining top-hat pushed back -upon his curly hair, his jovial face beaming. At its conclusion he -proposed a toast to the successful poet, and it was drunk standing and -with a mighty shout. - -We looked in at the Cabaret des Quat'z' Arts,--a bright and showy place, -but hardly more suggestive of student Bohemianism than the other fine -_café_s of the boulevards. - -And thus ended a night on Montmartre. We left Mr. Thompkins at his -hotel. I think he was more than satisfied, but he was too bewildered and -tired to say much about it. - -Montmartre presents the extravagant side of Parisian Bohemianism. If -there is a thing to be mocked, a convention to be outraged, an idol -to be destroyed, Montmartre will find the way. But it has a taint of -sordidness that the real Bohemianism of the old Latin Quarter -lacks,--for it is not the Bohemianism of the students. And it is vulgar. -For all that, in its rude, reckless, and brazen way it is singularly -picturesque. It is not likely that Mr. Thompkins will say much about it -when he goes home, but he will be able to say a great deal in a general -way about the harm of ridiculing sacred things and turning reverence -into a laugh. - -[Illustration: 0321] - - - - -MOVING IN THE QUARTIER LATIN - - -THE Quartier Latin takes on unwonted life about the fifteenth of July, -when the artists and students change their places of abode under the -resistless pressure of a nomadic spirit. - -[Illustration: 8322] - -Studios are generally taken for terms ranging from three months to a -year, and the terms generally expire in July. The artists who do not -change their residence then go into the country, and that means moving -their effects. - -It is a familiar fact that artists do not generally occupy a high -position in the financial world. - -Consequently they are a very practical lot, attending to their own -domestic duties (including washing when times are hard), and doing -their own moving when July comes; but this is not a very elaborate -undertaking, the worse of them for that. - -One day in July Bishop and I sat in our window overlooking the court, -and observed the comedy of a - - -A STUDENT MOVING - - -No one thinks student in the throes of moving. The old building at the -end of our court was a favorite abiding-place for artists. Evidently, on -this day, a young artist or art student was _en déménagement_, for his -household goods were being dragged down the stairs and piled in the -court preparatory to a journey in a small hand-cart standing by. He -was cheerfully assisted by a number of his friends and his devoted -companion, a pretty little grisette. There were eight of them in all, -and their laughter and shouts indicated the royal fun they were having. - -The cart was one of those voitures à bras that are kept for hire at a -neighboring location de voitures à bras at six sous an hour. In order to -get locomotion out of it you have to hitch yourself in the harness that -accompanies it, and pull the vehicle yourself; and that is no end of -fun, because your friends are helping and singing all the way. - -Into this vehicle they placed a rickety old divan and a very much -dilapidated mattress; then came half a sack of coal, a tiny, rusty, -round studio stove with interminable yards of battered and soot-filled -pipe, a pine table, two rush-bottomed chairs, and a big box filled with -clattering dishes, kettles, pots, and pans. On top of this came a thick -roll of dusty, faded, threadbare hangings and rugs, and the meagre -wardrobes of the artist and the grisette; then a number of hat-boxes, -after which Mademoiselle looked with great solicitude. Last of all -came bulky portfolios filled with the artist's work, a large number of -canvases that were mostly studies of Mademoiselle au naturel, with -such accessories as easel, paint-boxes, and the like, and the linen and -bedding. - -The fat old concierge stood grumbling near by, for the ropes were being -tied over the load, and she was anxiously waiting for her _dernier -adieu_, or parting tip, that it is the custom to give upon surrendering -the key. But tips are sometimes hard to give, and Bohemian etiquette -does not regard them with general favor. After the load had been made -snug, the artist approached the concierge, doffed his cap, bowed low, -and then in a most impressively ceremonious manner handed her the key, -avowed that it broke his heart to leave her, and commended her to God. -That was all. There seems to be a special providence attending upon -the vocabulary of concierges in their hour of need. The shrill, -condemnatory, interminable vocalization of this concierge's wrath -indicated specific abilities of exceptional power. - -But the artist paid no attention. He hung his coat and "plug" hat on -the inverted table-leg, got between the shafts, hitched himself in the -harness, and sailed out of the court, his friends swarming around and -assisting him to drag the toppling cart away. And this they did with a -mighty will, yelling and singing with a vigor that wholly obliterated -the concierge's noise. The little grisette closed the procession, -bearing in one hand a lamp and in the other a fragile bust. And so the -merry party started, possibly for the other end of Paris,--the greater -the distance the more the fun. They all knew that when the voiture had -been unloaded and all had fallen to and assisted the young couple in -straightening out their new home, there would be a jolly celebration in -the nearest _café_ at the moving artist's expense. - -So the start was made fairly and smoothly; but the enthusiasm of the -crowd was so high and the little vehicle was so top-heavy, that at the -end of the passage the comedy seemed about to merge into a tragedy. It -was announced to all the court in the shrill voice of the concierge, -who exultingly screamed,--"The stove has fallen out! and the coal! The -things are falling all over the street! Oh, you villain!" - -To the movers themselves it was merely an incident that added to the fun -and zest of the enterprise. - -[Illustration: 0326] - -My plans carried me to Concarneau, and Bishop's took him to Italy, where -I would join him after a while. And a royal time we had in our several -ways. The autumn found us fresh and eager for our studies in Paris -again, and so we returned to hunt a studio and establish ourselves in -new quarters. We had stored our goods with a kind American friend; and -as we had neither the desire nor the financial ability to violate the -traditions of the Quartier, we greatly scandalized him and his charming -family by appearing one day with a crowd of students and a voiture à -bras before his house and taking our effects away in the traditional -fashion. Of course our friend would have gladly paid for the transport -of our belongings in a more respectable fashion; but where would have -been the fun in that? I am pleased to say that with true American -adaptiveness he joined the singing and yelling crowd, and danced a jig -to our playing in our new quarters after a generous brew of punch had -done its share in the jollity of the event. - -[Illustration: 0328] - -Ah, dear old Paris! wonderful, bewildering Paris! alluring, enchanting -Paris! Our student years are now just ended, and Paris is already so -crowded with workers who cannot bear to leave it that we must seek -our fortune in other and duller parts of the world. But Paris has -ineradicably impressed itself upon us. We have lived its life; we have -been a part of its throbbing, working, achieving individuality. What -we take away will be of imperishable value, the salt and leaven of our -hopes and efforts forever. - - -THE END - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Bohemian Paris of Today, by -W. C. 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