in the week which are devoted to balls.
These balls do not vary materially from any
other tenpenny dances, either in London or
Paris; but as a morning lounge, the place is
not without attractions. One of them, is the
fact that there is no charge for admission,
the proprietor merely expecting his guests to
convenue something—a regulation which is
generally obeyed without much objection.

Throughout the whole day may here be
seen numerous specimens of the two great
classes of the quarter—students and grisettes;
some smoking, and drinking beer and brandy
in pretty little bosquets, others disporting
themselves on a very high swing, which
would seem to have been expressly constructed
for the purpose of breaking somebody's neck,
and to have failed in its object, somehow, like
many other great inventions. Ecarte is also
very popular; but the fact that its practice
requires some little exertion of the intelligence,
so very inconvenient to some persons,
will always prevent it from attaining entire
supremacy in a place so polite as Paris.
To meet this objection, however, some
ingenious person has invented an entirely different
style of game; an alteration for which the
Parisians appear deeply grateful. A small
toad, constructed of bronze, is placed upon a
stand, and into its open mouth the player
throws little leaden dumps, with the privilege
of scoring some high number if he succeeds,
and of hitting the legs of the spectators if he
fails. At this exciting game a party of embryo
doctors and lawyers will amuse themselves at
the " Closerie " for hours, and moreover exhibit
indications of a most lively interest. The
great recommendation of the amusement, I
believe, is, that the players might be doing
something worse; a philosophical system
of reasoning which will apply to most
diversions—from pitch-and-toss to
manslaughter.

A few hours of this amusement is scarcely
necessary to give the student that sometimes
inconvenient instinct—an appetite. Accordingly,
at about five he begins to think about
dining; or rather, he begins to perform that
operation, for he has been thinking about it
for some time.

Dining, in the weak imagination of
conventional persons, usually induces visions of
Vefour, and is suggestive of Provençal
fraternity. But the student of the Quartier
Latin, if he indulges in any such visions, or is
visited by any such suggestions, finds their
end about as substantial as their beginning.
His dreamy dinners have, alas! no possibility
of realisation. Truffles to him are tasteless,
and his " trifles " are literally " light as air."
Provence provides him, unfortunately, with
more songs than suppers, and the fraternal
associations with which he is best acquainted
are those of the Cuisiniers in the .Rue Racine
or Rue des Mathurins.

It is, very probably, with one of these
"Associations Fraterneltes des Cuisiniers"
that the student proceeds to dine. These
societies, which are fast multiplying in every
quarter of Paris, are patronised principally by
Republicans who are red, and by Monarchists
who are poor. The former are attracted by
sympathy, the latter are driven by necessity.
Indeed, a plat at six sous, which is the usual
price at these establishments, is a very
appropriate reward for the one, or refuge for the
other. At these establishments—which had
no existence before the last revolution—
everybody is equal; there are no masters, and
there are no servants. The garçons who wait
upon the guests are the proprietors, and the
guests themselves are not recognised as
having any superior social position. The
guest who addresses the waiter as "garçon"
is very probably insulted, and the garçon who
addresses a guest as " monsieur " is liable to
be expelled from the society. In each case,
"citoyen " is the current form of courtesy,
and any person who objects to the term is
free to dine elsewhere. Even the dishes have
a republican savour. " Macaroni à la Républigue,"
"Fricandeau à la Robespierre,'' or
"Filet à la Charrier," are as dear to republican
hearts as they are cheap to republican pockets.

A dinner of this kind costs the student
little more than a franc. If he is more ostentatious,
or epicurean, he dines at Risbec's, in
the Place de l'Odeon. Here, for one franc,
sixty centimes, he has an entertainment
consisting of four courses and a dessert, inclusive
of half a bottle of vin ordinaire. If he is a
sensible man, he prefers this to the Associated
Cooks, who, it must be confessed, even by
republicans of taste, are not quite what might
be expected, considering the advancing
principles they profess.

After dinner, the student, if the Prado or
some equally congenial establishment is not
open, usually addicts himself to the theatre.
His favourite resort is, not the Odeon, as
might be supposed, from its superior importance
and equal cheapness, but the " Theatre
du Luxembourg," familiarly called by its
frequenters—why, is a mystery—" Bobineau's."
Here the student is in his element. He talks
to his acquaintance across the house; indulges
in comic demonstrations of extasy whenever
Mademoiselle Hermance appears on the scene,
and, in short, makes himself as ridiculous and
contented as can be. Mademoiselle Hermance,
it is necessary to add, is the goddess of the
quarter, and has nightly no end of worshippers.
The theatre itself is everything that could be
desired by any gentleman of advanced
principles, who spurns propriety, and inclines
himself towards oranges.

After the theatre the student probably goes
home, and there I will leave him safely. My
object has been merely to indicate the general
characteristics of his ordinary life, from which
he seldom deviates, unless tempted by an
unexpected remittance to indulge in more
costly recreations, afforded by the Bal Mobile
or the Château Rouge.