Excited by their encouragement I decided to push on with the work and to make a large group. I asked Lourdier if he knew any tall, bony old woman, and he sent me two, but neither of them suited me. Then I asked all my painter and sculptor friends, and during eight days all sorts of old and infirm women came for my inspection. I fixed at last on a charwoman who was about sixty years old. She was very tall and had very sharply cut features. When she came in I felt a slight sentiment of fear. The idea of remaining alone with this female _gendarme_ for hours together made me feel uneasy. But when I heard her speak I was more comfortable. Her timid, gentle voice and frightened gestures, like a shy young girl, contrasted strangely with the build of the poor woman. When I showed her the design she was stupefied: “Do you want me to have my neck and shoulders bare? I really cannot.” I told her that nobody ever came in when I worked and I asked to see her neck immediately. Oh, that neck! I clapped my hands with joy when I saw it. It was long, emaciated, terrible. The bones literally stood out almost bare of flesh, the Adam’s apple looked as if it would come through the skin. It was just what I wanted. I went up to her and gently bared her shoulder. What a treasure I had found! the bones of the shoulder were entirely visible under the skin and she had two immense “salt cellars.” The woman was ideal for my work. She seemed destined for it. She blushed when I told her so. I asked to see her feet. She took off her thick boots and showed a dirty foot which had no character. “No,” I said, “thank you. Your feet are too small, I will take only your head and shoulders.” After having fixed the price I engaged her for three months. At the idea of earning so much money for three months the poor woman began to cry and I felt so sorry for her that I told her she would not have to seek for work that winter, because she had already told me that she generally passed six months of the year in the country, at Sologne, near her grandchildren. Having found the grandmother I now needed the grandchild. I then had passed in review before me a whole army of little Italians, professional models. There were some lovely children, real little _Jupins_. The mothers undressed their children in one moment and the children posed quite naturally and took attitudes which showed off their muscles and the development of the torso. I chose a fine little boy of seven years, but who looked more like nine. I had already had the workmen in to put up the scaffolding required to make it sufficiently stable to sustain the necessary weight. Enormous iron supports were fixed into the plaster by bolts, and pillars of wood and iron wherever needed. The skeleton of a large piece of sculpture looks like a giant trap put up to catch rats and mice by the thousand.