In a pretty frame on the wall, rows of plates are exhibited, and when you pass, the artist utters a little speech to advertise his ability.

He stays in his place all day, polishing his instruments and stringing teeth; he can talk to visitors without feeling the restraint of being watched, be informed of what is going on in the medical world, and practise his profession like a licensed dentist.

At the present time, I daresay, he must use ether.
More than that, he may have pupils and give lectures.

But the man who has the most enviable position of all is the cure Delacollonge.[3] He is the mediator between the convicts and the ban; the authorities use his ascendency over the prisoners, and they, in turn, address themselves to him when they want to obtain any favours.
He lives apart from the rest of them in a neat little room, has a man to wait on him, eats big bowls of Plougastel strawberries, takes his coffee and reads the newspapers.
If Delacollonge is the head of the penitentiary, Ambroise is its arm.
Ambroise is a superb negro almost six feet tall, who would have made a fine servant for a sixteenth century man of quality.

Heliogobalus must have kept some such fellow to furnish amusement for himself and his guests by strangling lions and fighting gladiators single-handed.