Theo's eyes had not left the story-teller's face for an instant.
"It was not as if the painters used only a touch of color here and there," continued Mr. Croyden. "Much of the ware was designed with a solid color that covered the body, small spaces being reserved for medallions in which there were heads or landscapes. The gilding, too, was very heavy, and sometimes in combination with it imitation gems were used. At the present time a color known as Rose du Barry brings the highest price in old Sèvres. Other famous colors in which the French china-makers excelled were Bleu Roi, which was made from cobalt——"
"King's blue," murmured Theo.
"Bleu Celeste, a turquoise blue made from copper——"
"Sky blue!" put in Theo.
"There was also a rare canary yellow; an apple green; a fine tone of violet; and a bright red that had not been seen before in the china world. So intense was the interest in the Sèvres factory that even when the French Revolution came and every relic of royalty was destroyed by the hooting mobs, the Sèvres works were not touched. You see in what a magic realm the old Sèvres ware had its being. We call everything dating up to 1800 Old Sèvres, and you will probably find it so marked in both public and private collections."
"Is Sèvres ware still manufactured?" questioned Theo, stumbling timidly over the French word.
"Yes," answered Mr. Croyden, "there is a modern Sèvres, much of the success of which is due to Alexandre Brongniart who was both a geologist and chemist, and who was the director of the Sèvres factories from 1800 to 1850. He did much to perpetuate the industry and keep up its standard. During his time no piece with an imperfection in it was allowed to go out from the factory."
"Was Sèvres the only famous ware the French people made?"
"It is undoubtedly the most celebrated," replied Mr. Croyden, "but there are now many other fine porcelains made in France. For example at Limoges, where in 1775 pâte tendre was made, there is a very extensive porcelain plant founded in 1840 by David Haviland, an American, from which quantities of pâte dure or genuine porcelain for the American market are annually turned out. Much of the other French china, however—dainty, exquisite, and artistic as it is, is pâte tendre. It is of course sold in quantities, but it is very perishable. There is also a so-called porcelain made from a mixture of clays and phosphates—a ware known to the trade as bone china. But of course this variety is not real porcelain. You see that much of what we call porcelain is not porcelain at all when you judge it by this strict standard. It is nevertheless very useful, and a hungry boy like you can manage nicely to eat his breakfast off it and be quite as happy. Now give me your tray and I'm off. There will be no more china-making to-day, you young scoundrel! See how long you have cajoled me into lingering already. You almost made me forget that I was going fishing."