to work in one of the
Parisian play-houses; and young Watteau, of whom he had some slight [9]
knowledge, has departed in his company. He doesn't know it was I who
persuaded the scene-painter to take him; that he would find the lad
useful. We offered him our little presents--fine thread-lace of our
own making for his ruffles, and the like; for one must make a figure in
Paris, and he is slim and well-formed. For myself, I presented him
with a silken purse I had long ago embroidered for another. Well! we
shall follow his fortunes (of which I for one feel quite sure) at a
distance. Old Watteau didn't know of his departure, and has been here
in great anger.

December 1703.

Twelve months to-day since Antony went to Paris! The first struggle
must be a sharp one for an unknown lad in that vast, overcrowded place,
even if he be as clever as young Antony Watteau. We may think,
however, that he is on the way to his chosen end, for he returns not
home; though, in truth, he tells those poor old people very little of
himself. The apprentices of the M. Metayer for whom he works, labour
all day long, each at a single part only,--coiffure, or robe, or
hand,--of the cheap pictures of religion or fantasy he exposes for sale
at a low price along the footways of the Pont Notre-Dame. Antony is
already the most skilful of them, and seems to have been promoted of
late to work on church pictures. I like the thought of that. [10] He
receives three livres a week for his pains, and his soup daily.

May 1705.

Antony Watteau has parted from the dealer in pictures a bon marche, and
works now with a painter of furniture pieces (those headpieces for
doors and the like, now in fashion) who is also concierge of the Palace
of the Luxembourg. Antony is actually lodged somewhere in that grand
place, which contains the king's collection of the Italian pictures he
would so willingly copy. Its gardens also are magnificent, with
something, as we understand from him, altogether of a novel kind in
their disposition and embellishment. Ah! how I delight myself, in
fancy at least, in those beautiful gardens, freer and trimmed less
stiff than those of other royal houses. Methinks I see him there, when
his long summer-day's work is over, enjoying the cool shade of the
stately, broad-foliaged trees, each of which is a great courtier,
though it has its way almost as if it belonged to that open and unbuilt
country beyond, over which the sun is sinki