Sacramento daily record-union., 1889-06-15

Special Correspondence OF Ine ehECOhD-ONION.I
PARIS, May, 1889.
One would think it an unfair time just
now to Judge Paris, but there is always so
much of novelty in the French Capital
that even a great exposition such as has
begun to-day does not make much change
in the appearance of the city. II is the
same old Paris once saw, only her beau
tful Tuilleries is gone and the Ei1el
Tower looms above all, dwarfng the spires
of Notre Dame, just as the godlessness of
the day overtops all religious sentiment
throughout this young Republic.
The polish and soullessness Of Paris
hurts one after 4 stay in Germany, and a
feeling of loneliness and disgust is sure to
come TO the visitor who cares more for the
real Of life than for the glitter yet Paris
has its CHARM and a wonderful spell it is,
too, for it holds all enchanted, especially
us Americans, who once come within the
circle Of It's power. l had not been a day
In Paris before | had made friends and
had portioned out a jolly time, in the
most approved fashion. Wandering along
the Rue ST. Dominique in the very early
morning Il had arrived from Strasbourg
at A. NJ, | was attracted by the newly
painted face Of shop; on coming nearer
/ discovered il TO be Just what desired of
all places, a restaurant, and, best Of all, a
pretty face looked from the window and
smiled as I turned 10 enter This might
be called
NY FIRST STEP IN PARIS,
For had as yet not taken lodgings, and
had left all my luggage at the station.
When | entered | found the face a little
older than had supposed, but still very
pretty, and my moderate orders for
breakfast were received with charming
politeness, This was my first meeting
with Madam Dussolin, who afterwards be-
came one of the features Of my Partisan
visit. Madam lived with her husband, the
cook, IL some rooms at the back of the
shop; she had three rooms, hut her two
daughters, Marie and Elsie, occupied one
and she had none to rent she, however,
knew Of poor widow, (my father, like
Sam Nellers, had often warned mel, who
lived IN the Rue st. Jacques, who had
lovely room on the third floor, for on "
franc twenty cents) per day. Madam was
so pleasant that | sat talking a long time,
after my little breakfast, and the rest of
the family came in and Joined in the con-
Versatlon; the subject was the rather pro-
sale one of food and the price of living.
My meals at Madam's should cost less
than nothing so | was told, but at other
places the prices ran much higher. Nev-
theless, | had afterward at the Dussolins
yrb,
actually for less than nothing, was seldom
over franc.
In the Rue de RiYoli was a neat restaur-
ant, where for twenty cents, a luncheon of
eggs soup, meat or fish with vegetables,
dessert, and bread, as much as wanted,
also half bottle Of wine; for thirty cents,
the same, but with better wine Dinners
were about the same; for forty cents,
though, a superior dinner and three
courses were served. Coffee with cognac
was six cents extra Nowhere, however,
can such a dinner be had for so small
price as in San Francisco.
THE BETTER RESTAURANTS.
Cost from 81 to 81 for dinner, but of
course such dinner Is work of art and
an artist must not be paid in the same
small way as an artisan There are in
Paris what are called Establishments de
Bouillon, where excellent meals can be'had
at moderate prices, but here you pay for
everything you have, and find it in the
bill given you as you pass out, reckoned
even down to the napkin, which costs one
cent and the bread at two cents. One finds
female walters at these places, and their
very sombre dresses give the repast an
bo1-
even bottle of Epernay cannot dispeI.
The bill OF fare at Madam Dussolin's was
always good, and being written on a slate
1t was amusing to see Madam, or Marie,
when certain dish had all been eaten,
wet her little finger with her tongue and
with one stroke create an hiatus not to
be filed until the next day. Madam
reckoned her bills also on a slate and pre-
sented you with Your change. upon the
same, with as much ceremony as if it were
silver salver.
THE WIDOW IN RUE ST. JACQUES
Took me in, and as lad to pay two francs
for my room, instead Of one | have lit
tie suspicion that there is double mean
ing attached to that phrase; but widows
are given TO that sort of thing the world
over; and, after all, forty cents a day is
not much for good room during Exposi-
tion time, and having your stockings
darned, in the bargain.
Paris has a special Custom-house of its |
own, and at the stations all baggage is ex-
amined to see that no cigars nor tobacco
are smugged. To NE the question was
simply put, if | had anything contraband, |
and answering negatively, my trunks were
80, 2 l. ! 1 -.
comfortably domiciled under the root of
the poor, lonely one. Thus | found my
place in Paris, and had as much (if not
more) real amusement during my stay as
II l had had quarters at the great hotels |
patronized by my countrymen, where FIVE |
to ten dollars day goes for the bare privi- |
lege of living. With the Dussolins | be-
come more friendly each day, always !
bringing flowers or bon-bons for Madam |
or the girls, while old Dussolin made me
some OF his best dishes or treated me to |
liquors after my evening coffee. Dussolin, |
/ soon learned, was a bit afraid of his bet |
ter half. Though he was head and shoul- |
ders above her, her frown would bring him |
down TO the level Of her foot he was
man completely under the slipper, as the |
Germans say. One night | asked permis- |
sion for the good fellow to have an even
ing off, and Madam, after little hesita-
tion, said he might go, but must be surely
HOME BEFORE MORNING.
so when the shop was closel at half-past
10, and the happy husband had doffed his |
cap and apron and conned his best rig we
sailed forth. Dussolin was like liber-
ated prisoner and | had to hold him in
check, for he wanted to go everywhere at
once; not place did he remember which
he used to frequent in his bachelor DAYS
but there he must go again-poor, bald |
headed father of family though he was.
When he found that | was not to be led
by his wild faucies, he settled down to
more sensible view of his liberty Cross
ing the Seine we were soon in the Champs