Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-07-22

perienced tourist with his invariable and
Irritating air of superiority. The season
is over, the people of Importance have left
some time ago. Nice is dead and desert
ed city" MY dear sir answers the sar-
dobic citizen, the fact that the important
people have left city does not destroy its
interest. Everybody goes to Rome, and the
important people departed from it some
centuries ago.
So II is. no! for the Mediterranean, the
sea Of the middle earth whose shores for
centuries saw nearly all the history that
was worth the making. 1t was once the
home of poets and pirates. The poets have
passed away, but the pirates survive. They
are shipless and shabby, but pirates none
the less. Ma-seille is a town of forbiddfng
aspect seen from the railway station.
Instead of being commonplace and bare,
like the neighborhoods of most depots, 1t
has dark picturesqueness that is forbid
ding. AS you walk along one street you
may lean over a stone balustrade. down
sheer precipice into another that is reached
by a flight of ill-lighted stone steps The
information that the train for Nice may
be taken in a few hours is grateful.
The first impression OF the Mediterranean
is one OF intense blue. The waves wash
the volcanic rocks that tell of mighty dis
turbances long before men began to fight
among themselves. The water rises and
sprays into a white foam about them and
then runs back in tiny cascades to make
ready again for the incessant and fruitless
conflict This Mediterranean blue is a won
derful thing. 1t penetrates the conscious
ness and cannot be effaced. 1t is the one
color in the Italian paintings that time has
failed to mellow and subdue. The sky and
the sea seem to have gotten into the art
lists brush and the climate cherishes the
pigment as kindred protege.
Early morning finds Nice somnolent
place and the later hours bring no awaken
ing. 1t is a deserted spot Hotels are
boarded up and the shops keep open only
for the sake of the fresh air. The deser-
tion seems unwarranted. Even upon the
edge of summe 1t is still place where in
valids, II they cannot be cured of their
troubles may at least forget them. Phys
icsl ailments may yield to climate, but
ennui is the malady that oftenest seeks
this location, and when fashion Is the
physician change is frequently prescribed.
Early morning finds the laundresses of
the town at the edge of the tiny slow paced
stream which. In honor of past perform
ances, appears on the map as 'Poillon Tor
rent. There are score or more laun-
dresses to be seen from the bridge which
crosses the river just where II rolls dream
lily into the sea, with nearly It's whole width
whitened by the suds which mark these
primitive but praiseworthy endeavors to be
a little cleaner. The laundresses whose
attire makes up in brilliancy of color what
II may lack In mode and material, draw
their baskets up TO the waters edge and
sit in them, while with paddles and scrub
bling brushes they apply themselves to the
days toll.
But II Is not to observe the ways OF the
humble that one visits Nice. Up in the
hills yonder lives the Prince of Monaco
and beyond his palace is the gaming estab-
lishment, Monte Carlo. With all its music
and cuisine and lawns and flowers 1t Is es-
sentially gaming establishment adver-
tised into unholy greatness by the writer's
OF anaemc fiction. After reading few
stories of this class there comes yearn-
Ing 10 hear THE monotonous voice Of the
croupier saying, Ren ne va plus /" Ii is
q yearning which only experience can ap-
pease.
From Nice TO Monte Carlo reveals a
panorama os constant charm. The cliffs
are rugged enough,s but the gold of the
sunshine. the jewels OF the sptashing sea
and the roses that blossom everywhere
transform them into lazy sybarites. Their
volcanic mood has long past and they
are content to browse in the warmth and
perfume. The city OF Monaco is like
page torn from a water coiorist's album
and pasted against the sky. Roses shower
themselves in bubbling profusion over
every parapet and through every creyice
IN the walls. They push one another out
into the very highway where the passer~by
may pluck them. The buildings are of a
delicate cream color, which. blending into