l sum of ten sous. You see this superb
picture? It represents eight of the most thrilling scenes in the drama.
Ah, I see you begin to shudder already; and yet this is nothing compared
to the play itself. This splendid picture gives you no more idea of the
acting than a drop of water gives an idea of the sea, or a spark of fire
of the sun. My picture, gentlemen, is merely to give you a foretaste of
what is in the tent; as the steam oozing from a restaurant gives you a
taste, or rather a smell, of what is within."

"Do you know this clown?" asked an enormous Turk of a melancholy Punch.

"No, but he can imitate a trumpet splendidly."

"Oh, very well indeed! But what is he driving at?"

The clown was endeavoring to attract the attention of Mme. Fauvel, who,
since Raoul and Madeleine had left her, sat by herself in a mournful
revery.

He succeeded in his object.

The showman's shrill voice brought the banker's wife back to a sense
of reality; she started, and looked quickly about her, as if suddenly
awakened from a troubled dream.

"Now, ladies, we are in China. The first picture on my canvas, here,
in the left corner"--here he touched the top daub--"represents the
celebrated Mandarin Li-Fo, in the bosom of his family. This pretty woman
leaning over him is his wife; and these children playing on the carpet
are the bonds of love between this happy pair. Do you not inhale the
odor of sanctity and happiness emanating from this speaking picture,
gentlemen?

"Mme. Li-Fo is the most virtuous of women, adoring her husband and
idolizing her children. Being virtuous she is happy; for the wise
Confucius says, 'The ways of virtue are more pleasant than the ways of
vice.'"

Mme. Fauvel had left her seat, and approached nearer to the clown.

"Do you see anything on the banner like what he is describing?" asked
the melancholy Punch of his neighbor.

"No, not a thing. Do you?"

The fact is, that the daubs of paint on the canvas represented one thing
as well as another, and the clown could call them whatever he pleased.

"Picture No. 2!" he cried, after a flourish of music. "This old lady,
seated before a mirror tearing out her hair--especially the gray
ones--you have seen before; do you recognize her? No, you do not. She is
the fair mandarine of the first picture. I see the tears in your eyes,
ladies and gentlemen. Ah! you have cause to weep; for she is no longer
virtuous, and her happiness has departed with her virtue. Ala