St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1886-08-08

the ground, which fact is well known of all
women there or elsewhere.
| And there is Harry Stone, one OF the
very handsomest of men, with figure
| slight and straight, as was Saladin's, and
with hair and mustache like white spun
! silk.
And there is genial, kindly DR.. Johnson,
| Paris correspondent for several Important
American newspapers.
I'm fact these dreadful, vulgar Ameri-
cans ov errun all Europe" as heard said
| by a woman born in a log cabin on the
banks OF the Ohio river, and who in the
russell afternoon of her life went to Eng
land, where for few years she supported
herself by writing weekly letters to Ameri-
can newspapers.
| And there is Cora Pearl, who, lying back
| in her low Victoria, is dressed in COM
plete and ethereal suit of pale mauve.
And so is her poodle, which sits blinking
solemnly at her in the little low seat in
front. He is dyed every morning to match
the gown his mistress elects to wear that
day.
By the way. the current talk now is that
Cora Pearl was an American. We will be
generous. We will permit the tight little
island to continue to claim her, while we
| spread the mantle of universal charity over
| her memory.
Longchamps under the republic is very
| different place.
The grass may be as green, the flowers
as rare, the horses as fine, and the scene as
gay.
But there is not the same air of well-bred
ease.
To be sure there may be seen there many
men and women who are helping to make
the history of to-day notable.
But there are fewer fine ladies and more
coarse ones.
The talk is louder and more ''horsey."
BOokmaking flOurishes like green-bay
| tree-perhapS more like the deadly upas.
And it is not pre- tty sight to see pretty,
daintydressed woman walk up to the booth
of the bookmaker and present for payment
the ticket on the favorite which she has
bought and receive her winnings with an
expression of wolfsh greed.
| And the drive back to town, through the
shady alleys of the Bots, through the Arch
of Triumph, down the beautiful Champs
Elysees, is no longer the moving ON of a
stately cavalcade, but noisy, dusty route
with large admiXture of rabble.
The same difference that marks the
Grand Prix of the Third empire and the
Grand Prix Of to-day marks the whole Of
Paris.
| All places, all people, all things are
tinged with that familiarity that breeds
contempt
The mutilated buildings, still bearing the
scars OF the vandal hands of the commun-
| lists. The wall bearing the three words
Liberty, Equality, Fraternity
| with a shudder not only the recent horrors
| that visited Paris, but the more hdeous
memories of the revolution Of 17SS. meets
one at many unexpected corners.
The shopkeepers are less suave and quite
as dishonest. The streets are much less
clean by dav and nak 60 bright by night
1t is not the pees,sse of the paragraphist
| to go into the causes that lead to this condi-
ton of things.
The explanation may lie in the fact that
| the French Republic is yet an infant, and
| like an infant does deal OF sprawling and
purposeless yawping.
She has not yet found an exchange for
the pageantry and splendor of the banished
court, the serene simplicity, the sturdy,
silent, self-respect that should mark her
movements.
| And while the Unlocking world marks
| with hopeful pleasure her steady progress
IN the march of Embarrassment; when one
thinks of the banished glories of the court
of the Third Napoleon and the amiable
amenities and gracious courtesies of
Eugene, and then is brought face to face
| with some of the rough elements of republic
canism as it fiourishes ON French soil. one
| is apt to cry out with the Moors of old,
AYE de me Alhaina!'
And until Paris resumes some of her old
! time courtesy, and covers the discolored
| rags of red republicanism with spotless
| robes of Spartan simplicity, good Ameri-
cans had better revise their oId-time prayer,
and offer petition that when they die they
may be sent to a better place than republic
can Paris.