on wheels. At a moment when it was least
expected, the following strange cry was heard,
causing every head to turn in the direction
whence it proceeded.

"Fire to sell! Fire to sell! ladies, fill your
foot-warmers! here is the fire-seller!"

His sonorous voice had traversed the entire
market, and a loud burst of laughter was the
first response to this strange cry. But he had
excited curiosity, and that was sufficient; first
one approached, and then another; then one
"wished to look," and another "wanted to
know." Faithful to the traditions of French
gallantry, he satisfied the curiosity of these
ladies; showed them the inside of his cart,
which was a perfect fiery furnace,-and ended
by filling their "chaufferettes" at the cost of a
sou for each. By the following morning the
gossips of the markets had rendered any
advertisements unnecessary. Nothing was spoken
of there but the new fire-seller, and it was
soon the fashion for every "chaufferette " and
"gueux" to be filled with his lighted fuel.

Our lucky inventor was soon able to employ
from fifteen to twenty old women at his furnace,
carbonising tan all the year round. He had
four strong horses, which no longer dragged
carts lined with sheet iron, but large wrought-
iron receptacles, with their several names of
Vulcan, Polyphemus, Cyclops, and Lucifer, in
black letters on bright brass plates, just like
the engines of a railway. From these vehicles
lighted tan was distributed to all the women
engaged in the different Paris markets,
besides which he supplied the foot-warmers of
several large houses of refuge, including the
hospitals of Salpêtriere and Bicêtre, and in
a few years realised a handsome fortune by his
ingenuity.

In Paris not only are there breeders of
"clean beasts and of beasts that are not clean,
and of fowls and of other things that creep
upon the earth," but there are educators of
squirrels, instructors of owls and canaries,
professors of language for parrots, magpies and
starlings, and of singing for chaffinches,
goldfinches, and nightingales. Moreover, all these
people manage to live by the singular professions
they have chosen. Take the case of the birds'
singing master, who earns quite as much as
many professionals who teach singing to
unfeathered bipeds. A bird that costs a few francs
has its value more than quintupled after a course
of lessons from one of these professors, who
receive singing birds of every description as
boarders, and superintend their musical
education, or provide tutors for them at their
own homes, in the shape of perfectly trained
warblers, which are shut up night and day
with the pupil whose vocal attainments are
of an inferior order. Intelligent birds, after
about six weeks' instruction, are able to sing
two or three airs correctly, and in due course
will become more or less accomplished tenors
and sopranos. These feathered Marios and
Pattis are produced by contract for from five to
ten francs each, according to the completeness
of the musical education stipulated for. The
terms for professors of their own species to
instruct them at their own homes is generally
sixpence per week, with board in addition.

A few years ago the inhabitants of a
particular street in Paris were attacked with an
unaccountable irritation of the epidermis, which
compelled them to scratch themselves from
morn till night, no considerate Duke of Argyle
being there to take compassion on them. The
result was that they scarified themselves bit by
bit, and any one seeing them would have thought
that leprosy at least had fallen on the quarter.
An inquiry was instituted by the authorities,
when it was discovered that the proximity of a
certain Mademoiselle Rose, breeder of ants, for
the sake of their eggs for fattening young
pheasants, was the cause of the calamity. On the
police visiting her establishment, they encountered
a woman between forty and fifty years of
age, and of a terrible aspect, her face and hands
being as completely tanned as though they had
undergone dressing at the hands of a skilful
currier. This was the result of continuous
attacks on the part of her ungrateful pupils,
whose inroads upon her person had forced her
to encase the rest of her body in buff leather.
Thus protected, she slept at night surrounded
by sacks full of her vivacious merchandise in
perfect security, and seemed much astonished
at the police visiting her establishment.

"How can any one venture to complain of
these little insects?" remarked she. "Why,
I live in the very midst of them, and do not
feel any the worse. Some one must have a
spite against me I am certain—the world is so
wicked." Despite, however, of all she could
urge, Mademoiselle Rose was obliged to transport
her strange boarding establishment to a
perfectly isolated building beyond the barrier,
and in due course the cutaneous irritation
experienced by her late neighbours was allayed.

Mademoiselle Rose had her correspondents in
many of the departments of France, more
especially in those where very large forests exist,
and paid them at the rate of a couple of francs
a day. Her aggregate daily consignments
were about half a score of large sacks, her
profits on which amounted to thirty francs.
She was proud of her trade, and maintained
that she was the only person who throughly
understood the fecundation of emmets, having
long since made it her business to study the
manners and customs of these insects. "I
can make them," she used to say, "lay eggs
at will, and produce ten times as many as they
do in a wild state. To accomplish this I place
them in a room where there is an iron stove
kept heated red hot. I allow them to make
their nests where they please, as it never does
to interfere with them. They require great
care, and the more attention you bestow upon
them the more money they will bring you in.
I sell their eggs to the chemists, and supply
the Jardin des Plantes and most of the breeders
of pheasants in the neighbourhood of Paris
with them. The young birds have a particular
liking for this kind of food."

Not only has Paris its breeders of ants, but