The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1876-06-23

but dresses herself by accident with
some reference to the price of consois
and the state of the dry goods market),
putting on the first thing that comes
handy, and stopping round IN 1t with
supreme self-satisfactlon.
But with this frank confession OF the
superiority of the French woman III
dress. let the abaSement OF my nation
end. For the male bird IS horse or
another color entirely. And | come
out Of the valley of humiliation where
| | have Just been crawling, to remark,
| in stentorian tones, that, II | could
not dress myself better than the
Frenchman does himself, I'd drown
myself-and perhaps him as well. So
| let every country hold to its own.
| [ think that facilities for physical
life inevitably bring about moral de-
termination. | hold that it is impossi-
BILE to be great and good, full of high
and earnest purpose, when one has no
heavy pastry to eat, and nothing TO
complain of in his kitchen.
The air here is very different from
that of London. There in the winter
months you may see people wearing
goggles over their mouths, as else
| where over the eyes-not that they
| have weak mouths, but to protect the
| throat and lungs from the irritating
! fOgs. While in London | only worked
my lungs at half stroke, and do not
think | drew full, deep-down breath
| till we crossed the channel. There
you have beer in the air, muddy and
muggy; here it is wine, sparkling and
eXhilarating.
And Paris is fair city-the fairest
in the world. The scars on her face
| but mark where scattering drops of
the vitriol, thrown by disappointed
suitors for her hand fell. She is love
| ly still; her Astounding wealth of beau
ty is scarce impaired, and little Won
der that SO many come to admire and
remain to worship at her feet. But |
| hate her even while she throws her
white arms around me. and | feel her
perfumed breath in my hair. For |
know that she will prove my Delilah
and my Circe in one, Shearing me of
my ambition and transforming me III
to Sybarite. Already a crumpled
rose-leaf in my pillow is sufficient to
disturb my dreams. If some friend in
London would send me veal and a
ham-pie now, the spell might be brok-
ell might be saved. But the Flap
of luxury [ never could resist. I in
variably sit myself down to it the
minute it offers. And how can one sit
indoors and write when clean streets
which he can cross even in muddy
weather, without soiling his shoes
| tempt him out How can he be econ
omical when the facilities for bathing
and the neatnesS on every side per-
Suade him to bath and clean shirt,
if not daily. at least once week? Oh,
no, Paris is no place for Londoner,
nor Methodist. nor a German.
Why should man try to earn SO a
| day when on half that number of
| francs he can live very we'll for two
days! Even the humblest restaurant
is clean. Step into that little cabaret,
and you will find the floor strewn with
| fresh sand, the pine tables secured
white, and the face Of the woman who
serves yOu-whether it be fair and
| smooth, or yellow and Wrinkled-clean
and looking out from under a neat
| cap. The same at the cafes where
| richer customers consort-the differ
erence is in price and quality; cleanli,
ness is the common characteristic of
hot