Montmartre, as might be expected, yielded excellent "copy," to employ
a journalistic phrase. In the _cafés_ and _cabarets artistiques_
were made some of the portraits from life already referred to.
But though portraits of actual individuals, the models from which
they were made are in every case so characteristic, so closely in
keeping with their surroundings, that they serve nevertheless as
types, and the drawings in consequence make as direct an appeal
to the stranger as to one who might happen to be familiar with
the originals of them. In the famous Cabaret des Quat'-z-Arts was
drawn the exquisite pen-and-ink portrait on page 32, previously
alluded to, of "Georgette de Bertigny": under which name, for the
purposes of the sketch, the identity of a figure at one time very
familiar to _habitués_ of the Quat'-z-Arts is concealed. As comment
upon the depth of feeling which the drawing reveals, one may read
the pen picture which accompanied it:

Then Georgette de Bertigny steps out through the haze, and stands,
a tragic little figure, on the platform by the piano. Her hair and
eyes are ebon black; her face, thin lipped and pale, is like a
mask of ivory. There is no life whatever in it. She stands there
like a tragedy in miniature, her hands behind her back, unseeing,
motionless. Then, to a low, monotonously modulated melody, she
sings a song of utter misery and passion, and, as she sings, her
eyes and face light up. The mask of ivory gleams as though there
were living light behind it, and the sweet, low voice stirs us
as but few singers can. The music ceases. And the light behind
the ivory goes out again as Georgette bows her thanks for our
enthusiasm.

[Illustration: LE 'IGH KICK.