Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1894-12-08

We Have This Better In America.
Turks, East Indians, Africans, Chinese and
other puritanical, self-righteous, hypo-
critical peoples, who come as tourists to
the say French capital. Night after night
three-Quarters of its patrons are Parislans.
The Moulin Rouge is great, and bright
and loud. 1t sparkles with rose-colored
and canary lights. Its air Is filled with
perfumes laughter, and its lights are filled
with colors, silks and satins, ribbons. laces.
The Modified Can-Can.
Its center is a great square dance floor.
where 200 couples might waltz easily.
Around the edges there is a broad promen-
ade. Beside the promenade, against the
WALL there is a raised-up dais with a rail-
ing. There the people sit at little tables,
drinking, gazing. Round the promenade
and pushing out into the dance floor there
are 1900 people. walking, chatting, flirting
to the music.
It is a waltz Some fifty couples find
room to spin round and round.
We'll, they waltz badly. I'll say that for
them"
And the worst of 1t is. the tourist is quite
right, they do waltz badly.
IN tell you what, my boy; these girls
are not pretty as 1 had expected them
to be-"
That is your own fault. You should have
drunk up your Amer Picon In the cafe, and
another, really yes, another. Or an alb
sinthe. You cannot hope TO have the ideal
whoop and claw within you on a simple
half litre of white wine.
The bind strikes UP the great ouadrile.
All changes.
Those who promenaded form in groups
ten deep, around each set of dancers. We
are in the front row, all the betterl An
ha! La-la! There's lace and linen! Item,
stockings. item. ribbons. Item Yes, I
think it's four girls dancing" Item-that
is to say, cnother item. 1t Is the can-can
modified to the quadrille.
How do you like it?
The present writer is not detective. He
does not keep diary of the doings of his
friends. He trusts to memory. But he
thinks he Is sure that the composite an
swer of the tourists who have taken him
up to the Moulin Rouge amounts to:
is that ALP
The Artistic Tnverns.
The crowds break up. The people prom
enade again. The orchestra of sixty pieces
always bangs away; and to the sweet
strains of the music there come invitations
to drink beer.
The tourist trembles. He is shocked Yes
too tame now thinks that buying branded
cherries for bright-eyed, well-dressed girl
would be too-fastI
What else we see here?"
There Is the danse du ventre-
II saw 1t on the Midway Plaisance''
Then let us go, for we must hurry up to
be in time for one of the artistic taverns.
Montmartre has enough artistic taverns,
from Bruants "Mirliton." which has gone
out of vogue, to The Casino of Conc fer
ges'' Tor Janitors' Club, run by the tough
old Maxine Lisbonne. First let us try the
Cabaret des Quatz-Arts, with several
poets living off 1t.
The cab rolls on. Hey, cocher, stopI
Bang on the window with your umbrella
handle. This is the place. R-r-r-r-uk The
cab wheel scrapes the curb. Two francs.
The Cabaret deS Ouat'-Z-Arts ia n little
room. extremely packed. so much so that
you cannot tell exactly where you end and
where the lady sitting next to you begins.
The decorations are most primitive and tar