From The Pall Mall Gazette.
LIFE IN A PARISIAN STUDIO.

fore I have time to explain to the nouveau that it is his duty to keep the fire up, the "By the way, would you like to begin shout grows into a yell, and the yell into work at the atelier this morning? All a roar: "Au feu!" The stove, whose right! But stop a moment. I must just grimy pipe meanders up to the high run up-stairs and get my paint-box and rafters, glows afresh under our hands, carton. You shall see my room present- and the offended dignity of the multitude ly." In a moment we are together in the is pacified. We seek our seats and begin Rue Batignolles; past the mairie, we work again, but are interrupted by "Chanplunge by a side street into a wilderness tez, nouveau!" "Chantez donc!" on all of lanes, but soon find breathing-space sides. This appeal commences in a again in a large avenue; crossing this we kindly, encouraging tone, but remaining enter an impasse (Quartier Montmartre), at unanswered, the sputtering fire of voices the end of which are stables and studios! assumes a hurt tone, then a complaining Here we are; and, pushing a plank door, one, then, waxing more tumultuous and we are confronted by another plank door, indignant, it dies away for a time, only to innocent of paint, but decorated with the recommence in an angrier strain, until thumbings of years, and "Entrez" the yells, groans, whistles, and knockings scrawled on it in rude black letters. I urge the bashful nouveau to desperation, am rather late this morning eight and one hears a faint tuneless gasp emerge o'clock work has already begun, and from his throat. Heaven only knows as I come in view of the smoke-encircled what he is trying to sing! But he is not crowd a shout of "Vous êtes bien en to escape thus easily. "A la tribune! retard ce matin," in a remonstrating tone, screams the roaring crowd. The poor stifles my "Bon jour, messieurs." "Un mortal is forced to stand up beside the nouveau!" 66 Un nouveau!" "Entrez, model on the platform, and in the awful monsieur!" "Entrez donc!" "Entrez!" silence which succeeds the outburst he

yells insinuatingly the crowd as my friend is seen coming behind me. I find my easel and prepare for work, while the nouveau gazes somewhat wildly about him. On the throne, unembarrassed by any drapery, is posed a young Italian girl, and in a large semicircle about her are assembled at work some forty or fifty students of all sizes, nations, kindreds, and tongues. Near the model the work ers are almost on the floor, while those at some distance are perched on high stools, higher and harder than those of their relatives in the business world. It is a large room, square, and lighted by a huge side window; the walls are painted a dirty brown, and are covered in large patches with the scrapings from the pallets of the past and present generations. Some drawings and paintings, too- other heritages of the years spot the walls. And just now enormous Egyptian bulls and sphinxes' heads in cardboard appear high up, relics of the fête à l'égyptienne.

The shouts have settled down into the ordinary hum of conversation, broken by snatches of songs at intervals, and the nouveau has found a place and begun a study. He is not, however, long to remain in obscurity. Despite the heat of the room, which oppresses us all, the model shivers. "Mademoiselle a froid," "Au feu! nouveau, au feu!" louder and louder shout the tobacco-smoking, blousebecovered, shaggy pallet-holders; and be

begins again his song. Does he know what he is singing? I don't! And as his spavined voice dies into a wail, "Assez!" "Assez!" on all sides tells him that this part of his initiation is over. It now only remains for him to pay the punch, un pourboire. This is twenty francs. The student delegated to demand the drinkmoney from the nouveau advances most politely, and in the choicest of words and the most honeyed of accents requests the honor of being allowed to drink his health. On receiving the coin he goes to the platform, then, in a most solemn way, lets the money drop on the floor, that the genuine ring may be heard by all. "Punch!" "Absinthe!" A show of hands tells that punch is voté, and two or three blouses rush wildly out to order the drink. A quarter of an hour after they return, smiling, amid general applause, bringing the drinks with them; that is to say, a couple of stout, becapped barmaids with trays and glasses appear in their wake. The glasses and drinks are deposited on the platform around the model, who does not seem the least concerned, and the mixing of the punch begins under the supervision of one of the anciens, who is evidently well versed in these matters. Shouts now give way to chuckles, smackings of lips, and other demonstrations of joyous anticipation.

Presently one hears, "C'est l'heure," "C'est l'heure!" This means that it is

time for the model to rest. All rise and crowd of critical faces, but she gets make for the platform, where the punch is blazing. The model keeps her position of vantage, and is very ready to take her share of the drinks, cakes, and cigarettes. She looks a very bacchante as she appears above the encircling crowd of students, glass in hand and cigarette in mouth, clinking glasses and exchanging à votre santé with her friends. Presently there are only the empty punch-bowl and reversed glasses on the liquor-bedabbled throne; the model is sitting again, smil. ing, while the French, the Russians, the Poles, Egyptians, Austrians, Americans, and English sing, smoke, chaff, yell, scream, and work with renewed vigor. We have "God save the Queen," in chorus a prime favorite this; then "Yankee Doodle" and the "Marseillaise." Amid this uproar a knocking is heard at the door. "Entrez donc, cochon - entrez !" and amid a storm of missiles a troop of girl models double round the door. "Entrez, mesdemoiselles," ," and missiles cease. The models are come to ask for sittings, and they wait in the corner, chatting and nodding to acquaintances. Presently one or two men models come in this is Monday, and the principal day for making engagements. After a while the models go through a number of poses on the platform, the sitting model resigning for the moment. Here is a girl nouvelle, and she only knows one pose; she is a little shy, too, when she faces the

through very well. Blondes and brunettes, they pose their most telling poses. Some have ugly faces but good ensembles, and often the pretty-faced ones are lacking in other qualities. They have all finished, and now while they are dressing come the men. A huge-limbed nigger takes the pose of Hercules with the apples; then a model who has sat for Christ comes. He has posed for the cross, and gives us the position and the look of agony. It is really well acted; he can do the dead Christ too; and he finishes up with the attitude of Christ in Raphael's cartoon of "Feed my Sheep." Now all the models go outside while a vote is taken as to their engagement. A blouse stands up. Qui est-ce qui veut? Qui est-ce qui ne veut pas?" and so in turns they are voted upon. Those who are votes wait to settle the time of their sittings, while the others depart, often with rather a savage look on their faces. At twelve o'clock all the students go. There is another model in the afternoon, and during the winter still another in the evening (each model sitting a week); but few students, if any, work more than twice a day. At night a large lamp with reflectors throws a stream of light on to the model, the easels being lighted by smaller lamps. At ten o'clock all is quiet, the only sound being that of Père Henri's broom as it sweeps away the relics of the day by the light of a small lantern.

THE ELEPHANT IN CEYLON.At a meet-phant has sixteen toes, five on each fore-foot, ing of the Leeds Naturalists' Club, the president (Mr. B. Holgate, F.G.S.) related some curious particulars which had been furnished to him by the Rev. R. Collins, of St. Silas's Church, Hunslet, who has spent twenty-five years in India and Ceylon. Mr. Collins states that elephants are not now allowed to be shot as they once were, but are permitted to wander at will in the forests belonging to the government. They live to the age of about one hundred and thirty years, and "come of age" at forty. There are three sizes of them in the same herds, and when they are young the size that they will attain is pretty nearly known by the number of their toes. Those which grow to the largest size have eighteen toes, five on each of the two fore feet, and four on each of the hind ones. Those which grow to a medium size have seventeen toes, five on each of the fore-feet, as before, and four on one hind-foot, and three on the other. The least size of ele

and three on each hind-foot. No Singhalese elephant has a fewer number than sixteen toes. The mahout, or elephant-driver, rules his elephant by means of an iron hook, with which he touches a most sensitive part behind the ear, which causes the most unruly elephant to become submissive. When Mr. Collins was in Kandy, an elephant which had killed its keeper, and which had been shot in the head before it could be captured, had to undergo the operation of having the bullet extracted, which was performed by the native doctors, the elephant lying quietly down while the mahout kept his hook on this sensitive part. The elephant-drivers are a drunken set of men, and sometimes, while drunk, will treat their charge unmercifully, and the elephant itself is an animal which bears grudges-the result being that nearly all elephant-keepers are sooner or later killed by their elephants.

Leeds Mercury.

Fifth Series,
Volume XXXIX.

}

1

No. 1988.-July 29, 1882.

From Beginning,
Vol. CLIV.

CONTENTS.

For EIGHT DOLLARS, remitted directly to the Publishers, the LIVING AGE will be punctually forwarded for a year, free of postage. Remittances should be made by bank draft or check, or by post-office money-order, if possible. If neither of these can be procured, the money should be sent in a registered letter. All postmasters are obliged to register letters when requested to do so. Drafts, checks and money-orders should be made payable to the order of LITTELL & Co.

Single Numbers of THE LIVING AGE, 18 cents.