SKETCHING A GIANTESS.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume IX, Issue 8, 20 February 1892, Page 188

SKETCHING A GIANTESS.

‘ W ell. Sir ?’ ‘ I’m from the Pull Mall Budget to get sketches of “ Aama.” ’ ‘ Oh, yes—well—you will find the gov’nor right in there by the bar—he’ll attend to you ’ —this in the lobby of the * Trocadero.’ The ‘gov’nor’ heard my business, drained his glass of S‘“, crossed with me tothefarcornerof thestallspromenade,opened a panel with his private key, and we descendeda narrow flight of steps into that mysterious subterranean realm known as ‘behind the scenes’—a place in this instance resembling nothing so much as a feudal castle’s dungeons. Another flight of stairs to a lower system of catacombs, and the ‘ gov’nor ’ sighted the party he wanted. I was introduced as ‘ a newspaper man to draw the giantess.’ ‘ There she goes now !’ exclaimed the person. We turned and looked. Shades of Gulliver ! Out of one of the dressing-rooms there had just emerged a giraffe-like appaiition which, bent half double to keep its head clear of the stone ceiling, was groping its way down the corridor to the room at the foot of the stage stairs, lunging and swaying about in a loose-jointed, awkward fashion for all the world like an ostrich might in a hencoop. We all pursued, and the guardian of Aama (for indeed ’twas she) corraled this child of fifteen years and ninety inches, and backed her up to a table, upon which she seated herself. ‘ Shake ’ands vede air,’ said the guardian. I took hold of the ham-like paw extended—it had the feel of a chicken fresh picked. ‘ Bonjour, mademoiselle, comment savon ?’ said I. ‘ W-w-r-r-g-g-m-m,’ she started to say in the tones of a loose-valved pump, but thought better of it and stopped. The ‘gov’nor’ took his leave, Mademoiselle was cautioned to poser bien, and I commenced my sketch. One of the supers worked around to where he could see over my shoulder and remarked : ‘ Ain’t she a ichalc ? Look at her now — she’s always like that — never smiles, never, and looks at everything as though ’twas to eat.’ She is enormous, in truth, and, as we used to tell the models after dinner at Julian’s, ‘ quite out of drawing ’ —for her head is too small and her lower limbs certainly long out of proportion to the rest of her.

‘ She doesn't seem strong,’ said I to the manager. ‘ No,’ he replied, ‘ she has just had a growing spell. Every once in a while she lays off" and just grows, and while that lasts she is so weak that she has to stay in bed —lays there in a sort of growing fever, as you might call it, sometimes for weeks. All we do is to feed her. Eat ? As much as any six men. We picked her up in the province of Jura, in France.’ ‘ Could I get a tracing of her foot ?’ I inquired. ‘ Certainly.’ ‘ Here you have it. Her boot was just an inch longer than the Budget is high. The call-boy appeared when the sketch was about completed, and the young ogress was helped upstairs. Her feet were so long that she had to ascend sideways in order to get them on the steps. Verily, she is a whale '.—Pall Mall Budget