edifice. To be well seen, they must stand in the open air. As for the architecture, let us adopt lofty arcades, under which every figure may be brought out in a clear light, and above which may extend a long balcony filled with hand some women all the queens of fashion, whether ladies of high rank or actresses, who for the last hundred years have, at one time or another, thrilled the heart of the great capital.”     We shook hands and parted. The matter was now settled between us. But we had to find a third associate who would furnish the needful capital. In less than three months we had done so. Our idea, it would seem, was not only artistic, but practical, for it won over at first sight bankers who were often less ready to subscribe even to a state loan. Shortly after, we drew up a brief outline of our scheme.     In the first place, we were to retrace with the brush an epitome of the whole history of France from 1789 to 1889.     Secondly. We decided to give as perfect a likeness as possible to all the personages, whether male or female.     Thirdly. Our space being limited, we were to select from each reign or r gime the more prominent scenes, and in so doing carefully set aside our own political preferences.     Fourthly. We were not to lose sight of the fact that our century is the century of Schopenhauer; but, at the same time, that our work must be as gay, chatoyant, and brilliant as possible.     These points being agreed to by both of us, we set about obtaining full data to work upon. Soon our artist friends were at a loss to recognize us when they met us. They saw us coming home with huge, atlantean folios under each arm. They learned that we had been found at the National Library, absorbed in the reading of innumerable manuscripts. They missed us at our social gatherings, and heard that we had been seen in the company of Mr. Tame, that austere and rigid investigator of contemporaneous French history. For fully six months we were looked upon as demented. The truth is, that during that period of incubation we had profitably gone over again our academic education.     But the hardest part of our task was the research and reconstitution of the female fashions. Of course we readily found portraits in oils or pastel, engravings and prints of the time; but these were insufficient for the purpose of artists whose chief object was accuracy. The stuffs must be touched and handled; the cut of a skirt and the fit of a corsage must be seen to form a right judgment of the object to be painted. One epoch especially was found to be sadly wanting in proper documents about ladies’ wearing apparel. We refer to a time when the famous crinoline (hoop skirt) was so much the vogue, in or about 1860. The fashionable beauties of the day, who have since become grandmothers, had kept no dress of that period; they had long been made over to their chambermaids. Toilets which had cost their husbands such big prices had long since passed from secondhand stores into the rag-picker’s basket, and the once glittering and showy texture converted perhaps into this very sheet of paper upon which we are now writing. What were we to do? Where should we look to find the material with which a crinoline dress was made, so that we might fix its evanescent form and color on canvas? We knew of one odd Parisian character whose amusement it was to have dolls dressed up each year by the best couturi re, in order, he alleged, to preserve to posterity a yearly sample of feminine futility; but the trouble was that this otherwise precious collection began just one year too late, when the crinoline had gone out of fashion. A thought struck one of