Los Angeles herald., 1891-07-12
PARISIAN BOULEVARDS.
Sarcey the Critic Writes of Thei
Beauties in "Scribner."

Sarcey the Critic Writes of Their
Beauties in "Scribner."
Any one familiar with the boulevards
of Paris will sympathize with this little
outburst on the part of Sarcey:
Il shall always remember one of the
keenest emotions of my youth. | had
been obliged, owing to my duties at the
time, to Danish myself to the prov
inces, where l had remained al
most two years, confined within small
town. The hour came at last for me to
return to Paris and once more to enter
into its possession. Hardly had l de-
posted my trunk at the hotel when 1
ran to the Madeleine and clambered on
top of one of the omnibuses that ply
along the line of the boulevards to the
Bastille. had no business at the Bas-
tile, but was almost crazy with Joy at
breathing, during the~drive, that per-
fume of Parisian life which arises so
strongly from the asphalt of the boule-
vard and the macadam of its roadway.
1T was evening, the gas jets (for cleo
tricity was yet unknown) spangled the
darkness with yellow lights; the shops,
all open, shone brilliantly; the crowd
was strolling up and down the wide side
walks. 1t was not one of those eager,
breathless crowds that seem carried
away in vortex of business, such as one
sees in London; it was composed of
loungers, who seemed to be walking
about for their pleasure, who were
cheering to the sight, and diffused. as
it were, feeling of happiness in the
air. From time to time the omnibus
passed before a theater, where long lines
of people were already waiting for the
opening OF the box office; everybody
was enjoying himself and laughing. AS
we descended toward the Bastille, the
passers-by became less numerous, the
groups less compact, but there still re-
mained the same air of happy
animation. do not know,
but it seemed to me that the
very atmosphere was lighter, more lu.
minous; it sparkled with youth and
life; felt subtle fumes of gayety mount
ting to my brain, and remember that !
could not refrain from clapping my
hands, to the great scandal of nv neigh
bors, who thought that / was little
mad. 'Ah! how beautiful it is-the
boulevard = exclaimed, and 1 breathed
deep draughts of that air charged with
joyous and spiritual electricity"
have often taken that same drive on
the top of the omnibus behind the three
big white horses from the Madeleine to
the Bastille, and, like M. Sarcey, I ex-
claimed aloud on the delight OF it all,
but l exclaimed in English, so / suppose
was not taken for lunatic-only for
all American. | know of no time, day or
night, when the streets of Paris are not
gay with people and vehicles. Long after
l had gone to bed, and did not keep
early hours, could hear the sharp ring
ing of the horses hoofs on the asphalt
under my window, which before day
break gave place to the heavier tread of
the big market horses as they toiled
with their loads to the Halle. After the
theater pedestrians flock along the side
walks. GAIL classes of society mingle,
elbowing and pushing one another.
Ladies from the Faubourg Saint
Germain alight from their coupes
and stop for cup of chocolate
at Tortoni's ON the sidewalk they run
against night beauties women with
painted faces ogle at belated provincials
.clubmen with collars turned up and a
cigar between their lips turn their steps
toward the clubs, where they intend to
indulge in a game Of baccarat. The dra-
matte critics rush to their newspapers
in order to improvise their accounts Of
the play.'"