A semi-circle of desks and wooden benches went round the platform where stood the male models nude, or on other evenings, male and female models in costumes, Roman or Neapolitan.  Oil lamps gave enough light to enable the artists who generally attended there to draw, and color in oils or water-colors, the costumes.  The price of admittance for the costume class was one paul, (ten cents,) and as the model only posed about two hours, the artists had to work very fast to get even a rough sketch finished in that short time.  Americans, Danes, Germans, Spaniards, French, Italians, English, Russians, were numbered among the attendants, and more than once, a sedate-looking English-woman or two would come in quietly, make a sketch, and go away unmolested and almost unnoticed.

More than three-quarters of the sketches made by Caper at Gigi’s costume-class were taken from models in standing positions.  At the end of the first hour, they had from ten to fifteen minutes allowed them to rest; but these minutes were seldom wasted by the artist, who improved them to finish the lines of his drawing, or dash in color.  The powers of endurance of the female models were better than those of the men; and they would strike a position and keep it for an hour, almost immovable.  Noticeable among these women, was one named Minacucci, who, though over seventy years old, had all the animation and spirit of one not half her age; and would keep her position with the steadiness of a statue.  She had, in her younger days, been a model for Canova; had outlived two generations; and was now posing for a third.  If you have ever seen many figure-paintings executed in Rome, your chance is good to have seen Minacucci’s portrait over and over again.  Caper affirms that of any painting made in Rome from the years 1856 to 1860, introducing an Italian head, whether a Madonna or sausage-seller, he can tell you the name of the model it was painted from nine times out of ten!  The fact is, they do want a new model for the Madonna badly in Rome, for Giacinta is growing old and fat, and Stella, since she married that cobbler, has lost her angelic expression.  The small boy who used to pose for angels has smoked himself too yellow, and the man who stood for Charity has gone out of business.

‘I have,’ said Caper to me the other day, ’too much respect for the public to tell them who the man with red hair and beard used to pose for; but he has taken to drinking, and it’s all up with him.’

Spite of fleas, rats, squalling cats, dog-fights, squealing of horses, and braying of donkeys, lamp-smoke, and heat or cold, the hours passed by Caper in Gigi’s old barracks were among the pleasantest of his Roman life.  There was such novelty, variety, and brilliancy in the costumes to be sketched, that every evening was a surprise; save those nights when Stella posed, and these were known and looked forward to in advance.  She always insured a full class, and when she first appeared, was the beauty of all the models.