Middletown transcript., 1869-04-03
Notts of Trapel,
Recoliections Of Paris.
HriHenJor Me Middlctown Transcript.

| .. NO. 3.
At the hour Of ten A. NJ, the walters in
the 1900 cafes If Paris arc rushing in and
out of doors, attending to the steadily in
creasing crowd of patrons under the avn
ings. The pcddlers, with the brass labels
dangling at their necks, number and IL
cense appended, cntrcat you to buy eve
rything; the boot-black, who is always a
grown man, sits quietly at the corner, his
little box studded over with curious coins;
he touches his hat when you address him,
and repeats the gesture when you donate
three sous. He is neatly dressed in cot
ton velvet, and when he knecls to shine
your boots, it is on little piece of carpet
The city hacks, or coitwcs de renaise,
are plying industriously now. Not much
like the omnibus horscs-the great Nor
man stallions-~arc the diminative and fag-
ged-out animals which try to trot properly
along the macadamized street The dri-
vers all wear one uniform, ,-glazed tall
hats, black coats, red wast-coats, and but
ternut pants. On entering their carriages
they hand you card, on which is printed
the price per hour or for single ride, so
that you can never quarrel. about fees.
When you are set down, two to five cents
are expected for their own drinking fund
All Partisan and English coachmen have
an inherent love for three cent glasses of
cognac. ss n -
The scrgents-dc-riJle, sterotyped in whis-
kcr, cut of hair, and twist of eyebrow,
with long rapiers at their sides, attract
your attention. The black cooked hats of
the policemen are visible. Each police
man carries in his pocket the itinerary of
all Paris, so that the sight.seer never
fears of losing his way on boulevards or
minor streets.
You pass down to the entrance of the
GRIND Hotel as you enter the cleaning
courtyard, with its pave of marble and its
dome of glass, you behold those who speak
the English tongue. That tall, urbane
gentleman, there, is an American banker
across the street; he is talking to worm
out Congressman, from across the flood,
trying in vain to recuperate exhausted en-
ergies; at the little table next them are
a group of young Cockney Englishmen,
drinking cognac and swearing energetical-
ly, as they rchearse last nights pleasures.
That compact little fellow, jesticulating
prodigiously with his professional friends,
is professor Of billiards, and you see by
his coffee that be is French. No ladies
are up'at this hour Como at ten tonight,
if you wish to see them sip,ing ices on the
long marble platform in front Of the read
ing-room, and watching the toilettes of
those who constantly alight from or depart
in carriages on the smooth pavement.
High noon brings out great current Of
loungers for breakfast, and the bouleyards
gradually break into real life. AT two
o'clock promenadng is at its height. Six,
dinner hour, and a great rush for the fam
iliar doors of Gurny, the Diner de Paris,
Diner de Roche, Peters, and the host Of
popular restaurants around the Palais Roy
al. Vice begins to peer out. too, taking
an early start, Seven, eight o'clock; peo-
Pile with an object now. hurrying to CON
cert, engagement, theatre and ball.
The dweller in Paris, who has money
enough to live without work, never sees
the sun rise His bedtime is habitually
one A. NJ. !; shall he unveil the curtains of
his eyes before eight? That hour brings
to him confused noise Of servant in
shutting slippers at the door, mingled
scent Of coffee and rolls; and he struggles
ont Of his sheets to unbolt his door, while
the man-servant enters to help him back
to his couch, and serve him his coffee, his
letters, and his first ideas for tho day, in
bed. ""a