The Bridgman studio is one of the most interesting in Paris. The door is devoid of bell or knocker, but on pushing it open a zither-like instrument is struck, producing vibrant chords of harmony. A small ante-chamber containing a Renaissance marble and casts of Donatello’s angels opens into the studios, which consist of three rooms, charmingly surrounding an Oriental _patio_, with mosaic pavement and blue-tiled fountain and walled in by lattice work from Cairo. Moorish and Arabic mosque lamps and Persian and Indian tapestries give a complete Eastern tone to the court. The principal room is ornamented quite to the lofty ceiling with panels, hangings and furniture of the twelfth century, or Renaissance period. The keynote of this room is dull green, mingled with the brown of the old woodwork and the gold of its decorations. From this room one passes by way of the fountain, whose gold fish and lotus flowers tempt one to linger, to a quaint stairway of carved oak, which leads to the Egyptian and Greek rooms above. The sanctuary of the ancient Egyptian period is announced, so to speak, by the white lotus bud columns, supporting bas-reliefs of flamingoes and a boat carrying twenty donkeys and two men, crossing the Nile. At each side of the entrance statues of Isis and Osiris, in green basalt, sit as placidly as four thousand years ago. [Illustration: IN A GARDEN OF MUSTAPHA, ALGIERS Paris Salon, 1906] While a large part of Mr. Bridgman’s furnishings have been collected during his travels, they have been supplemented by friezes, furniture and ornaments designed by the artist in keeping with his idea of giving each room a complete and distinct individuality. This character note is especially dominant in the Egyptian room, with its painted and gilded cedar wood chairs and its bas-reliefs of Egyptian life. The coloring is dark blue, relieved by gilding in the decorations and hieroglyphics, and lighted by electric lotus flowers. In the Greek room a frieze of black and terra cotta, reproduced from the old Etruscan vases, runs round the ceiling. Over the mantel stands the frontal of a temple, copied after the lines of the Parthenon. Minerva presides in this shrine, guarded by small Tanagra figurines on the shelf below. There are also some fragments of Etruscan ware. It is a wonderful place to dream in, and a hard place to leave, the more so as Mr. Bridgman exercises hospitality on a scale of typical Southern generosity. There is something in the personality of the man himself—a certain candor or simplicity which, in spite of the cosmopolitan finish of world-wide travel and experience, in spite of honors and acclamation, remains typical of his native section. Tuskegee, Alabama, is his birthplace, his father being a physician of note throughout the state. [Illustration: ARAB CAVALIERS, ALGIERS]