, set at a right angle, derive light from this garden-court
shut in by two adjoining houses built on wooden piers, decrepit and
ready to fall, where on each floor some grotesque evidence is to be seen
of the craft pursued by some lodger within. Here long poles are hung
with immense skeins of dyed worsted put out to dry; there, on ropes,
dance clean-washed shirts; higher up, on a shelf, volumes display their
freshly marbled edges; women sing, husbands whistle, children shout; the
carpenter saws his planks, a copper-turner makes the metal screech;
all kinds of industries combine to produce a noise which the number of
instruments renders distracting.

The general system of decoration in this passage, which is neither
courtyard, garden, nor vaulted way, though a little of all, consists of
wooden pillars resting on square stone blocks, and forming arches. Two
archways open on to the little garden; two others, facing the front
gateway, lead to a wooden staircase, with an iron balustrade that was
once a miracle of smith's work, so whimsical are the shapes given to the
metal; the worn steps creak under every tread. The entrance to each flat
has an architrave dark with dirt, grease, and dust, and outer doors,
covered with Utrecht velvet set with brass nails, once gilt, in a
diamond pattern. These relics of splendor show that in the time of Louis
XIV. the house was the residence of some councillor to the Parlement,
some rich priests, or some treasurer of the ecclesiastical revenue. But
these vestiges of former luxury bring a smile to the lips by the artless
contrast of past and present.

M. Jean-Jules Popinot lived on the first floor of this house, where the
gloom, natural to all first floors in Paris houses, was increased by the
narrowness of the street. This old tenement was known to all the twelfth
arrondissement, on which Providence had bestowed this lawyer, as it
gives a beneficent plant to cure or alleviate every malady. Here is a
sketch of a man whom the brilliant Marquise d'Espard hoped to fascinate.

M. Popinot, as is seemly for a magistrate, was always dressed in
black--a style which contributed to make him ridiculous in the eyes of
those who were in the habit of judging everything from a superficial
examination. Men who are jealous of maintaining the dignity required
by this color ought to devote themselves to constant and minute care of
their person; but our dear M. Popinot was incapable of forcing himself
to the pu