The Bennington banner. [volume] (Bennington, Vt.) 1858-1894, 1890-08-21
PENSION L1FE IN PARIS.

. servants and that crabby old Cerebus
the concierge, who guards the entrance
| to every house in Paris. Hotels are nat
urally expensive and rather unsatis
factory for long sojourn, for one tires
of living with walters, so to speak, whom
one must be constantly feeling, in order
to obtain proper attention, and one longs
for little social life and some intimate
: knowledge of what is going on in the
great city in which one is almost a
stranger. To be sure, walters will give
correct information as to what Is to be
seen at the theatres and other places of
amusement, but they are entirely igno-
rant of social life, and the thousand and
one little things about the city and the
manners and customs of the people
which are always of so much interest to
foreigners. So the first thing tourist,
who intends to remain a few weeks or
months in Paris, does is to hunt up a
pension de fdmille. The guide books
mention number of them, and nearly
all travellers have little book containing
addresses of various pensions recon-
mended by tourist friends. So a cab is
hired at two francs (40 cents an hour)
and pour bOire, and the search is begun.
Speaking of pour bOire reminds me of
| nlhb an IiibllSu lttNll, VIII was u bbIlCb
prohibitionist and who had a horror of
encouraging drinking in any way, said
to cOachman who asked her for pour
b0ire, aftor having driven her around
town in his cab. She gave him the tip
but said in her bestAnglo- French accent;
Ce NEST pdS pour bOire mdis pour mdnger.
My readers who understand French will
appreciate this joke, while the others
will have to be content with the
assurance that it is one, for it would lose
its pith in translation. Bullet us return
to our cabby, whom we have left calmly
sleeping on his box while we went out
of our way to make a pun at his expense.
Doubtless he will charge it up to us in
his reckoning (Which never agrees with
ours), of the length of time we have had
his services.
| Is there anything more wearisome and
more discouraging than looking for
board in a strange city? Fortunately we
are at home in Paris now, so it is an old
story for us, but will consider that the
reader has just arrived in this gay city
and wishes to find homelike place in
which to stay. OF course you know
what pension is; will not call it a
boarding house, for that has common
sound not pleasant to the ears of some
people. Strange as it may seem, there
are many persons who live in pensions
abroad who would not like to acknowl-
edge that they resided in boarding
houses at home, although it is in reality
the same thing, but the French word
makes it sound more distingue, l sup
pose. Well, here we are in front of the
great wide pOrte-cOchere of typical
Paris apartment house, plain, five-story,
mansard roof, grayish white building
the entrance to which is through a car
riage way, used alike for private con-
veyances and people, on one side of
which is the 'loge," or office and bed
room combined of the concierge that
gossipy and inquisitive guardian of the
house with whom it is Just as well to be
on friendly terms at once by politely
tipping the hat before asking any
questions.
All residents in Paris live in constant
fear of the concierge, the autOcrat and
governor of their houses, who is often a
government spy, and who can make it
very unpleasant for the dodgers if he
takes dislike to them or if he considers
that he is not sufficiently feed. Oh,
happy habitants of America! You can
enter and leave your houses without
being watched, and you have your own
latch-keys. But we voluntary exiles in
foreign lands can only reach our apart
ments when our concierge deigns to open
the outside door, and we cannot go out
at night without asking his permission
with the humble words: lie Gordon,
sill uOus plat. Often when returning
from the theatre or some reception or
ball, have been kept waiting on the
sidewalk in the rain until cOuld wake
my concierge from his midnight slumbers
and induce him, by frantic ringing, to
pull the cord which connects the outside
door with the bed, and then l have to
give my name and wait for his sleepy
bien monsieur, so that he may know it is
all right, and that no rObber is entering
the house. 1t is still more troublesome
in Vienna, where all dwellings are locked
and bolted by law at 10 O'Clock, and if
one would enter after that early houI
one must wait until the concierge
partially dresses himself and comes to
unfasten the door and collect his legal
fee of four cents head for the trouble
Does this not seem absurd to you indie.
pendent Yankees? But there is nothing
to do but submit, and there is no use
kicking against the customs of the
country that one inhabits, but it will
! sometimes do little good tC
: kick against the door. The concierge
too, has charge of and receives al
letters and packages that arrive for his
, dodgers, and no doubt he reads all the
postals, and If there is any information
, on them, goes and tells all the servants
in the house that the gentleman on til,
fifth floor received charming postal il
feminine hand, for he loves nothing
more than gossip except the sight oi
! gold. The concierge is generally as
sited in his duties by his wife, and oc
. casionally it is only female cerberu
+ that has charge Of the house, in whicl
case she is usually worse than the NAL
4 species, and one cannot have the salts
faction of talking back" to woman
if she becomes too Insulting. But let IL
leave the concierge, for it is not {
n pleasant subject to linger on to one VIII,
q has lived in Paris. But we must frs
!. find out on what floor our pension !
situated. With naughty wave of tn
Q hand the guardian of the precincts rat
t ties off some such sentence as this: "a
t brOisieme du dessus de rentre-sOi, port
a gauche," rather puzzling direction
d for one who has just arrived in Paris.
Q Pensions in Paris generally occupy on
It or two floors of an apartment house, bu
e occasionally, like the one in which W
d now reside, it has possession of the en-
II tire house. The majority Of them ar
situated in the lovely Arc de Triomph
lquarter, or just off the beautiful Champ
|, Elysees, where foreigners most do COZ
a gregate, and which is the most desirabl
land healthy part of Paris. Nearly a
lLN.o.&.k hatf N antrpt in tha aarn m
a varying in size from a few feet wide
d dimensions sufficiently great to admit {
quite little park being placed in i
The rooms on these courts are sometime
W more desirable than the front ones, fC
d one gets rid of the noises of the stree
land the very wearisOme cries of tl
shrill-voiced street venders. The fiooi
W are seldom carpeted, but are waxed to
Y, dangerous degree of slipperiness, an
)f are partially covered by rugs, There
always large mirror over the mant
and the bedrooms contain a wardrob
Or the front of which is a mirror, for tl
,r French dearly love reflections. II
st CRATES are ridiculously small and 1t
ID almost impossible to keep room |
ID warm in winter as Americans like it
lr be. Little perambulating stoves are ais
ry used; these contain red-hot charcoal al
can be moved around the room, SO whC
YOU have friend come TO visit you Il
I'd little stove can be placed by him until
in warns himself sufficiently, or, " yC
ht are cold yourself at dinner, you can a'
d, the waiter to pass around the stove.
" is quite convenient, but not always sati
ID factory. IL is summer now, so will N
he recall how much have suffered fro
the cold IN draughty Paris flats al
gloomy old Italian palaces in winte
gone by, but viii say that America
he the only land of perfect bodily comfor
as Each room in French apartment co