The Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Or.) 1862-1899, 1894-10-26
PARIS AT DAYBREAK.

You cannot say you have seen the
streets of Paris until you have walked
them at sunrise; everyone has seen
them at night, but he must watch
them change from night to day before
he can claim to have seen them at
their best. | walked under the arches
of the Rue de Rivoli one morning
when it was SO dark that they looked
like the clOisters of some great mon
astery, and it was impossible to be-
lleve that the empty length of the
Rue Cambon had but an ho1r before
been blocked by the blazing front of
the Olympia. and before that with
rows of carriages in front of the two
Columbins. There were 4 few be-
lated cabs hugging the sidewalk, with
their drivers asleep on the boxes. and
couple of gentlemen slolching to-
Sether across the Place de la Concorde
made the only sound of life in the
Whole city. The Seine lay rs motion
less as water in a bath tub, and the
towers of NOtre Dame rising out of
the mist at one end. and the round
bulk of the TrOcaderO bounding it at
the other, seemed to limit the liver
to what one could see Of it's silent
surface from the Bridge of the DeDu-
ties. The Eiffel tower, the great
skeleton of the departed eXposition
disappeared and reformed itself again
as drifting clouds of mist swept
through it and cut it's great ugly
length into fragments hung in mid
air. AS the light grew in strength
the facades of the government build
lngs grew in outline, as though an
opera glass, and the pillars of the
Madeline took form and substance;
then the whole great So Iare showed
itself empty and deserted. The dark
ness had hidden nothing mOre terri
bic than the clean asphalt and the
motiOnless statues of the cities of
France.
A solitary fiacre passed me slowly
with no one op the box, but with the
coachman sitting back in his cab.
He was returning to the stables. evi-
IDENTIFY, and had ON his way given a
seat to girl from the street, whom
he was now entertaining with genial
courtesy. He had one leg thrown
over the other, and one arm passed
back along the top of the seat, and
with the other he waved to -he great
buildings as they sprang up INTO life
as the day grew.
The girl beside him was smiling at
his pleasantries, while the Using sun
showed how tired and pale she was,
and Knocked at the paint around her
sleepy eyes. The horse stumbled at
every sixth step, and then woke
again, while the whip rocked and
rolled Enthusiastically in its socket like
drunken man. From up the avenue
of the Champs Elysees came the first
OF the heavy market wagons, with
the driver asleep on the bench. and
his lantern burning duly in the early
light. Back of him lay the deserted
stretch of the avenue, strange and
unfamiliar in its emptiness for
the great arch that rose against the
dawn, and seemed, from its elevation
on the very top of the horizon. to
serve as a gateway into the skies be-
yond. The air in the Champs Elysees
was heavy with a perfume of flowers
and of green plants, and the leaves
dripped damp and cool with the dew.
Hundreds of birds sang and chattered
as though they knew the solitude was
theirs but for only one more brief
hour, and that they then must give
way to the little children, and laterI
to crowds of idle men and women.
1t seemed impossible that but few