, tired and worn-out, who are
properly called the actives of Paris.

The groups became more compact, and talked animatedly. Old friends found
each other; they shook hands, and, in view of the circumstances, smiled
cordially, while the women saluted each other through their veils.

In passing, we could catch fragments of conversation like this:

"When will the affair begin?"

"Were you at the opening of the Varietes yesterday?"

Theatrical terms were heard--"My talents," "My charms," "My physique."
Some business, even, was done. A new manager was quite surrounded; an
old actress organized her benefit.

Suddenly there was a movement in the crowd. The undertaker's men had
just placed the coffin in the hearse, and the young girls of the
Sisterhood of the Virgin, to which the dead girl had belonged, arranged
themselves in two lines, in their white veils, at the sides of the
funeral-car. Preceded by the master of ceremonies, in silk stockings and
a wand of office in his hand, the poor father appeared on the pavement
in full mourning, with a white cravat, broken down by grief and
sustained by his friends.

The procession set out and came to the parish church, fortunately near.

There was a grand mass, with music which was not finished. It was too
warm in the church stuffed with people, and the inattention was general.
Men who recognized each other saluted with a light movement of the head;
conversation was exchanged in a low voice; some young actors struck
attitudes for the benefit of the women, and the pious responded to
Dominus Vobiscum droned by the priest. At the elevation, from behind the
altar, rang out a magnificent Pie Jesu, sung by a celebrated baritone,
who had never put in his voice so much amorous languor. Outside the
church-yard the small boys of the quarter stood on tiptoe, and, hanging
on to the railings, pointed out the celebrities with their fingers.

The office finished, the long defile commenced; and every one went to
the entrance of the church to sprinkle some drops of holy-water on the
bier, and press the hand of the old actor, who, broken by grief, and
having hardly strength to hold his hat, leaned against a pillar.

That was the most horrible moment.

Carried away by the habit of playing up to the situation, all these
theatrical people put into the token of sympathy which they gave to
their friend the character of their employment. The star advanced
gravely, and with a three-quarter inclinati