The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1892-12-18


leisure to cape at sights and TO criticise his
betters.
Marie NegIeponts relates an encounter
with one OF these young scamps very char
aoteristic Of their disposition. She was
feeding a stately peacock In the Jardia dss
Plantes when her hand was snatched away
by Rrimy little paw and treble voice
cried warIingly: Hes got a powerful
oeak, and he'll bite you If you don't look
| out While she was fumbling for a cop-
per he turned to her and said solemnlY: ''If
/ you want TO do good deed, feed the drome-
dairy" pocketed the penny. and disappeared.
AS for the dromedary, it consumes special
food at stated hours; at other times, IL It
were offered anbrosia, 1t would decline
with thanks This the impudent gduroche
knew perfectly we'll, and he was standing
in ecstasy behind a tree while the unfort-
innate young lady was wasting biscuits on
an ungratetul animal
As the gamin grows up, finding it inns
possible to forsake the pleasures OF the
street. he Is like enough to become a street
fakir, seller OF toys, sheet music, and I'M
editYing books. The education of the pave
mas given him peculiar quickness OF mind
aud an astounding vocabulary, so that IL is
one OF the sights Of Paris Co sit in front Of
Boulevard cafe and listen to the cries and
exhortations OF this brotherhood of came
lots. On fete days they come out the
strongest and with the straugest mer-
chandise. They are full OF audacity,
their accent is ultra Partisan in its
| fatness, and they take possession
Of the Boulevard to recite their
boniments, full of humor. One, selling a
shrieking tin whistle that spreads and gath
ers volume like cry OF murder in the night
and uncsnny enough 20 shake the nerves OF
watch dog, will praise IL with the words,
The tranquility Of familiesm The diff
Guilty Is TO keep up TO date with these witt
cisms, as a minute acquaintance with the
kaleidoscope life of Paris, political, artis-
tic, and otherwise, is necessary to appre-
ciate the terms that may be given In praise
of the most commonplace article Of mer-
chandise.
There is toy, for instance, a wooden
efigy of President Carnot. that has been on
the streets for more than a year. 1t repre-
sents the president in the correct evening
clothes in which his photographs are most
often taken. His right hand is raised to his
high silk hat, and his left arm hangs straight
by his side. When a string is pulled, off
comes the hat with mechanical sweep the
body is bent In wooden bow, and the left
leg is thrust back with jerk. IL would be
hard to appreciate the full meaning of this
toy unless one knew something OF the never
varying automatic correctness of NJ Car
not, and the weakness attributed to him for
appearing IN evening clothes on all possible
occasions The words of the camelots con-
corning this toy during the past six months
form running commentary on the public
| appearances of the president, from his
| speech at Nancy to his return from Fon-
taineDleau in the rain. But whatever the
occasion, it is invariably preceded by the
| familiar cry of LA SdLut PresidentieLw
1t Is not 50 much that Parisiaus are
naturally more quick witted and entertai l.
| ing than other people as il is that they are
willing to listen TO each others wit. Anus
| ing things may not always happen In Paris
but when they do happen they are inva-
riably noticed and enjoyed. Everything
| here Is Of one piece. In no other city are
| observation and criticism carried to so fine
| point, yet there is no city where the inLi-
vidual Is freer from personal criticism of an
| annoying kind. Everybody looks once and
| nobody looks twice. Street boys, cabmen,
fakirs and the dregs of society may be
witty. Parisians may be constantly look
ing at each other. approving or disapprov-
ing. and nearly always laughing yet every
| one Is free to do about as he pleases.
This summer an American lady was In
the garden of the Luxembourg listening TO
the military band, amid great crowd of
well-dressed Parisians. AT one side of an
| al fresco cafe couple of old danes we're
| doing good business with sug ared waffies,
hot from the baking iron at SOUS each,
| and many well-dressed people were eating
| sighed the American lady, who wanted a
waffle for herself, but was ashamed to eat il
| 10 the open cir, holding it between her
| fingers as the other did, and powdsring her
| nose and mouth with sugar. She was told
1t is necessary to rid ones self OF false
shame in Paris in order to get the full be re-
| fit of visit. as that all7n she said, as her
| eyes wandered to a neighboring bench be-
meath the trees, where In full view of every
| body were sitting pair OF oblivious lovers.
The charm Of open -air-life in Paris Is all
made up ofllittle things which, when de-
tached from the whole seem more and
| trifiing. Certainly the charm of Paris for
the ordinary man does not consist IN going
| to the opera or 60 the Moulin Rouge: nor
is one OF its essential elements driving in the
Bots or eating &C the Cafe AnRlais. More
certainly still, it ooes not consist in visiting
| museums nor in excursions to the sewers
and the catacombs, the morgue. Notre
| Dame de Paris, the Bon Marche, and the
| tomb Of Abelard and Heloise in the oeme-
terry OF Pere Lachaise, where by the way,
| not bone of either of these lovers ever
rested. When one is enamored Of Paris ten
TO one 1t is the street life which he really
| loves He would rather saunter in the play
| ground Of the Tuileries, where little girls
are dancing in ring to the song Of the
carmsgnole, then he would frequent the
company of tourists who are often greedy
and hurried.
| Dansons la carmaguole.
Vive lie son! Vive 10 sonl
| Dansons la carmargnole,
Vlve lie son du canon
| The children dance it on the very scene
| Of the darkest days Of the French revolu-
| ton. OF which the song Is a relic. Night
and day the sights along the Paris streets
are ever changing, and yet remain the same.
| They offer constant show, a never ending
procession-the adventures of the fiirt. the
defiance of shop girls, the conscious worth
of well-dressed ladies, the crying of hawk
ers, the open-eyed enthusiasm of tourists.
and the indifference of old danes knitting
ON the public benches, and the great army
of badauds TO whom leisure is more than
| food, and living 10 more than raiment.
If all this fails to give a complete enough
idea OF the way in which Paris turns bust
ness TO leisure and misery to amusement,
there Is nothing to do but take the ad vice
OF the sandwichman, Look ON the other
side" Look on the life in London and New
| York.
LEMON ELIXIR