ping with their surroundings, that they serve nevertheless as
types, and the drawings in consequence make as direct an appeal
to the stranger as to one who might happen to be familiar with
the originals of them. In the famous Cabaret des Quat'-z-Arts was
drawn the exquisite pen-and-ink portrait on page 32, previously
alluded to, of "Georgette de Bertigny": under which name, for the
purposes of the sketch, the identity of a figure at one time very
familiar to _habitues_ of the Quat'-z-Arts is concealed. As comment
upon the depth of feeling which the drawing reveals, one may read
the pen picture which accompanied it:

Then Georgette de Bertigny steps out through the haze, and stands,
a tragic little figure, on the platform by the piano. Her hair and
eyes are ebon black; her face, thin lipped and pale, is like a
mask of ivory. There is no life whatever in it. She stands there
like a tragedy in miniature, her hands behind her back, unseeing,
motionless. Then, to a low, monotonously modulated melody, she
sings a song of utter misery and passion, and, as she sings, her
eyes and face light up. The mask of ivory gleams as though there
were living light behind it, and the sweet, low voice stirs us
as but few singers can. The music ceases. And the light behind
the ivory goes out again as Georgette bows her thanks for our
enthusiasm.

[Illustration: LE 'IGH KICK.
At the Moulin Rouge.
_From "Paris and Some Parisians"_]

It is trite to remark that comedy is akin to tragedy, and it is in
the natural order of things that an artist of so keen a perception
of the comedy of life should be able to strike with such truth and
precision the note of pathos or of tragedy.

[Illustration: A SPEECH AGAINST THE GOVERNMENT.
_From "Paris and Some Parisians"_]

The "Lapin Agile," a strange little _cafe_ in that "other Montmartre"
which the tourist knoweth not, yielded abundance of material to
Frank Reynolds' pencil. Needless to say, the curious may search all
Paris and find no such sign as that of "The Sprightly Rabbit," but
it is not impossible that some may recognise, under his disguise,
"Felix," the ruffianly but accomplished host, who was the model
for the sketch upon page 43, one of the happiest examples in the
present volume of the artist's skill in portraiture, as well as of
his rare technique in pen-and-ink. Equally happy is the sketch which
depicts "'Chacun' with his 'Chacune'" at the Moulin de la Galette
(page 13), in which the po