gentlemen enable us to decide on the kind of costume which our
figures should wear; the one being indicative of a robe somewhat
clerical, and the other evincing without a doubt that the original
belonged to a period when knee-breeches and top-boots were much in
vogue. The resources of Cuba for the making of statues are limited, so
the material we employ is slight. We construct our figures upon the
principle on which paper masks are made, and by painting them afterwards
in imitation of marble, a very solid appearance may be obtained. I will
not describe the many difficulties which we encounter at every stage of
this process; but when the hollow effigies are complete and we have
fixed them to their painted wooden plinths, we are vain enough to
believe that we have produced as goodly a pair of sham statues as you
would see if you travelled from one extremity of Cuba to the other.

It is the night which precedes the opening of the chemist's shop, and we
have retired to our dormitories after having given a final coat of
marble colour to our pasteboard productions. I am about to tumble into
my hammock, when my progress is arrested by a strange sound which seems
to emanate from an adjoining chamber. I re-ignite my extinguished lamp,
and take a peep into the studio. Something is certainly moving in that
apartment. I summon my companion, who joins me, and we enter our
sanctum.

'Misericordia! One of the statues is alive,' I exclaim, horrified at
what appears to me a second edition of Frankenstein.

'Eppur si muove!' ejaculates Nicasio, quoting from another authority.

Monsieur Parmentier--he of the periwig and top-boots--is sinking
perceptibly, though gradually. We advance to save him, but alas! too
late; the illustrious Frenchman is already on his bended boots. The
wooden props which supported his hollow legs have given way, and his top
boots are now a shapeless mass. We pause for a moment to contemplate the
wreck before us, and immediately set about repairing the damage.

But how? A brilliant idea suggests itself.

In a corner of the studio stand the leather originals which have served
us as models for the extremities of the injured statue. These same boots
belong to an obliging shoemaker who has only lent them to us. But what
of that? The case is urgent, and this is no time to run after our friend
and bargain with him for his property.

To fill the boots with plaster of Paris; to humour them, while the
plaster is yet m