And she consulted her tall brother with a look. The tall brother gave an affirmative nod of the head, and the princess submitted to the caress—this is how I am able to inform those who may not be aware of the fact, that, like new-born babies, a little dwarf smells like a grey mouse. But there is no need for sensitive souls to distress themselves about these fragile beings. Vanity is quite as strong [p069] in a dwarf as in a man, and every “Princess Paulina” in the world is pleased to be exhibited. Besides, the parents of these goslings with golden eggs are too much interested in prolonging their lives ever to maltreat them. Those who should be pitied are the poor children sold once for all to a speculator. One of these dwarfs met with a tragic fate some years ago. [Illustration] He was named Joseph. At seventeen he measured only 27 inches, and had a thin, woebegone face rendered grotesque by an enormous nose which, like his hands and feet, was abnormally large. [p070] His parents, small agriculturists at Saintes, sold him in 1882 to a mountebank, who endeavoured to increase the popularity of his show by making this scrap of a man become an animal-tamer. By dint of great patience six cats were painted to resemble tigers, with yellow and black stripes. The animals were shut into a cage with the dwarf, and the unlucky Joseph, half dead with fear, was forced, with the aid of a riding-whip, to make the cats perform. The attempt succeeded for some time, when on July 12th, 1882, at the fair of Beaupré-sur-Saône, one of the cats suddenly flew at the dwarf’s throat and threw him down by its weight. In one second all the other cats had rushed upon Joseph, and before any one could intervene, the cat-tamer was strangled, his eyes torn out, his face covered with blood. The mountebank fled: a few days later he was arrested at Lille. I was lately discussing this tragic accident with M. François, and my friend, who was drawing on his riding-boots, paused in the effort to utter these melancholy words:— “We were certainly happier under the old _régime_.” When one is satiated with the abnormal and monstrous, the thoughts naturally tend towards those entertainments which exhibit the perfection of human beauty. It must be admitted that in this respect the public taste has improved. The infantine and Oriental admiration which the crowd displayed for enormous women, the “fat lady” who weighed 250 lbs., is declining so quickly [p071] that the “colossus” has nearly disappeared from the fair. And really pretty girls are now exhibited in the “Halls of Mystery.” [Illustration] [p072] The success of the “Beautiful Fatma,” hastened this revolution. No fair of any importance is now held without some imitation of the “Beautiful Fatma” being on the ground. I noticed the _Pavillon Marocain_ amongst the most successful of these imitations.