such as bear on individuals and on their liberty are a ticklish
matter; still, we ought, perhaps, to show some breadth and boldness as
to merely material measures--air, light, and construction. The
moralist, the artist, and the sage administrator alike must regret the
old wooden galleries of the Palais Royal, where the lambs were to be
seen who will always be found where there are loungers; and is it not
best that the loungers should go where they are to be found? What is
the consequence? The gayest parts of the Boulevards, that
delightfulest of promenades, are impossible in the evening for a
family party. The police has failed to take advantage of the outlet
afforded by some small streets to purge the main street.

The girl whom we have seen crushed by a word at the opera ball had
been for the last month or two living in the Rue de Langlade, in a
very poor-looking house. This structure, stuck on to the wall of an
enormously large one, badly stuccoed, of no depth, and immensely high,
has all its windows on the street, and bears some resemblance to a
parrot's perch. On each floor are two rooms, let as separate flats.
There is a narrow staircase clinging to the wall, queerly lighted by
windows which mark its ascent on the outer wall, each landing being
indicated by a stink, one of the most odious peculiarities of Paris.
The shop and entresol at that time were tenanted by a tinman; the
landlord occupied the first floor; the four upper stories were rented
by very decent working girls, who were treated by the portress and the
proprietor with some consideration and an obligingness called forth by
the difficulty of letting a house so oddly constructed and situated.
The occupants of the quarter are accounted for by the existence there
of many houses of the same character, for which trade has no use, and
which can only be rented by the poorer kinds of industry, of a
precarious or ignominious nature.