Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1900-06-03

paint Paris red speaks not 4 word 81
French. Nor can he know his way
about Is ne lot lucky TO fall on a
good fellow in this bar or that who
speaks the Language and is able to
smooth away difficulties? And does
not the poor, patient cadger earn bis 80
per cent. commission on wine bills and
others wearing his throat hoarse trans
lating? Tell that girl she has fine
eyes!" 1t is written not to muzzle
the OK that treadeth down the gain!
In the higher class of pensions and
boarding hotels it is the same story.
Companionship is a commodity, al
most scarce. to be paid for. If the
dead-broke American is half amusing
or useful he finds raising the wind"
easy. There is a young man at the
Hotel X, who, living at ease on moth
ing a year and his tailor's bill, can
still ~boast-truly, almost-that no one
in Paris can point to a dishonest act
Of his. For making himself agree
able, executing delicate commissions
and keeping up conversation at the
French table he is made a nominal
rate at the hotel. He owes some little
borrowed money. but most of the tour
list victims having left Paris, the thing
does not trouble him. But, far better
than fragrant borrowing, he esteems
the laid" that he has practice in ex-
torting from good-natured folk. aid"
does not even need to be promised to
be paid back. His speciality is writing
for the magazines. He has had moth
ing published yet. So much the more
he needs aid. He is also writing a
book about Paris. l believe no a few
of the aiding ones expect to see their
portraits fatteringly painted in that
book.
On the Make.
All this explains why certain expert
enced Americans in Paris receive fellow
countrymen. (and women so coldly when
not assured of their financial standing.
There was a widow, l remember. with her
son, who had a talent for the violin. All
she wanted was advice as to how to get
the 10y into the Conservatolre of Music.
She went to the American Ambassador
no matter which. Now, madame, what
do you want?' were the first words of the
great man.
She told her case.
Has your son been ~vaccinated?"
She answered no.
He can't get into the Conservatoire il
he hasn't been vaccinated. Now, mad
anne. I ask you at the start, have you
enough money to justify your staying
here?"
She thought she had.
Why don't your son work at his violin
at home? Why do you come with him to
double the expenses? You women come
abroad, spend your last ten dollars, and
then"
Now, Mr.. Ambassador the widow in
tefrupted, IF you are laundering TO send
me home in the Storage, you might as
well get rid of the idea. I've called to
see about getting my boy into the Con-
servatoire."
Still, ] think 1t unwise. unless you are
sure you nave enough money!
Mr.. Ambassador she said, decidedly
you're bilious this morning. My advice to
you is to take a pill. 1 have money and
am keeping house
1t was only then that the American Am
bassador, breathing visibly more freely,
took a cherry tone: well, you are a
type" he said. Drop in and see me
every time you pass. I want to know
how you are getting on. AS to getting
your son into the C~onservatoire, I can't
do anything" His last words were, Say,
where do you buy YOU coal?"
She got the boy into the envied Govern
ment school without official aid, but every
now and then she would drop in on the
Ambassador, only to show him that she
was not broke yet. He always had a
kind word for her, and always asked her
where she bought her coal.
For goodness sake. Mr.. Ambassador"
she exclaimed at last, why do you ask
me that?" adding that she bought it, like
most little Paris housekeepers, by the
bushel sack.
What Extravaganza said the Ambas-