. Bohemian Paris of to-day . 176 LE CABARET DU SOLEIL DOR Bishop tossed him a sou, which he greedilysnatched without a word of thanks. At the corner, under the gas-lamps, stood shiver-ing newspaper venders trying to sell their few re-maining copies of la derniere editionde la presse. Buyers were scarce. We had now reached the and the left bank of theriver. We turnedto the right, fol-lowing the riverwall toward No-tre-Dame, whosetowers werenot discerniblethroug-h the foQ^.Here there was anunbounded wilder-ness of desolationand solitude. Theblack Seine flowed silently pastdark ma
. Bohemian Paris of to-day . 176 LE CABARET DU SOLEIL DOR Bishop tossed him a sou, which he greedilysnatched without a word of thanks. At the corner, under the gas-lamps, stood shiver-ing newspaper venders trying to sell their few re-maining copies of la derniere editionde la presse. Buyers were scarce. We had now reached the and the left bank of theriver. We turnedto the right, fol-lowing the riverwall toward No-tre-Dame, whosetowers werenot discerniblethroug-h the foQ^.Here there was anunbounded wilder-ness of desolationand solitude. Theblack Seine flowed silently pastdark masses that were resolvedinto big canal-boats, with theirsickly green lights reflected in thewrithing ink of the river. Notre-Dame now pushedits massive bulk through the fog, but its towerswere lost in the sky. Near by a few dim lightsshone forth through the slatted windows of theMorgue. But its lights never go out. And howsignificantly close to the river it stands ! Peeringunder the arches of the bridges, we found some of 177. A HUNTER OF SCRAPS BOHEMIAN PARIS the social dregs that sleep there with the rats. Itwas not difficult to imagine the pretty girl in blackwhom we had passed coming at last through dissipa-tion and wrinkles and broken health to take refugewith the rats under the bridges, and it is a short stepthence to the black waters of the river ; and thatthe scheme of the tragedy might be perfect in all itsparts, adjustments, and relations, behold the Morgueso near, with its lights that never go out, and boatmenso skilled in drao;o-inp; the river ! And the old manwho was gathering the refuse and waste of smokers,it was not impossible that he should find himselftaking this route when his joints had grown stiffer,though it would more likely end under the bridges. The streets are very narrow and crooked aroundNotre-Dame, and their emanations are as various asthe capacity of the human nose for evil odors. Thelamps, stuck into the walls of the houses, only makethe terrors of
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