Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-06-29
Special Correspondence Of The Star.

Special Correspondence Of The Star.
PARIS, June 10, 1907.
Now ard then we say, in our part Of
Paris: Let's go to the Latin quarter!
Frankly. it is after dinner, in expansion.
The cabs with their pneumatiques quit
the oily roll of smart wood pavements and
bounce over Belgian blocks. This is after
we have passed the white ghosts-the
statues of the Tuilleries Garden and the
looming Palace of the Louvre.
Crossing the Seine we exclaim at the
beauty of the silent and historic river.
Bridge beyond bridge sparkles with lights
of white and red.
Then 1t is into dark" and narrow ways
mysterious. deserted. A voice breaks tremu-
lousy into song: Comrades. comrades,
since were boys" but 1t rings false;
We are only comrades in adventure. half
daunted in advance by the rollicking youth
of university and four arts. so negligently
at home with their griSettes. The Latin
quarter ball IS livelier than our native Jar
din de Paris!
blaze of light. Cabs in long lines, wait
ing. Police in force outside. A curious
facade in plates of majolica whose high
relief shows dancing girls and student idyls
by known artists. Each has done his plaque
for memory of past happiness.
Give all canes and umbrellas to be
checked. They may be used as weapons.
Sudden Quarrels rise in the Bal Butler
Forty cents you pay. and down broad
steps you GO 1t is old ground. below the
level of the pavement. When they dig they
find the bones and helmets of Roman le-
gionaries-it Caesars burying ground.
Later Merovingian kings defied the church
from an old castle, Once naughty, ardent
prince here kept, content, his brothers
bride They were both communicated.
Robbers in the year 1000 held the ancient
stronghold. Ghosts and specters fright
ened the Parsians away from it three
centuries later. Then they gave II to the
monks to purify it. The French revolution
wiped all out but memory. Now 1t is simply
q vast garden with low-roofed dance hall,
the greatest in Paris.
1t is packed with young folks bowling,
pushing, kissing. hair-pulling, laughing,
singing, dancing and attempting to dance,
vast whirl in which there Is no respect
for money good clothes.
There are girls who weep. girls who pout.
girls who fawn their young men to
make you burn with jealousy. and naughty
girls. triumphant girls, girls with their
faces quite TRANSPORTED, taking night off
in the old scenes. girls from our own side
of Paris, cleaning in jewels, yes, in
Paquin gowns, who lightly turn down men
in evening clothes to worship dirty. hairy
students without a cent in their clothes to
buy warm beeri
Oh. the rich man can get full humilia-
tion at the Bal Butler!
Intoxicated With Noise.
1t Is the largest dance floor of Paris.
The orchestra has fifty pieces. some great
fellows initiated from the Sousa instru-
ments they saw in Paris during the exposi-
ton.
Round the wall there is a half balcony,
with stools and tables, where the elite sit
between their dances. If you can get a
place there you are all right.
Waltz, Quadrille and polka 1t is not as
at our 'Tabarin'' or the "Bascule or Jar
din de Paris, where two hundred and fifty
men and women watch five couples dane
ing.
The hope of France, the college men of
France, here before you, dirty faced
sickly bearded and as fancifully CARRIED as
organ grinders monkeys
Their parents and guardians can fully
trust them with wine and spirits. They
will not drink much. They don't have to.
They intoxicate themselves with noise &C
tivity-and femininity.
Struggling through the masses of the
Bal Butler. we reason philosophically of
these things. but it is our chief delight to
bring with us-all unprepared-one of our
college men from home. new-hedged in
Paris, fresh from morning tub and tennis
court glee club and undergraduate dances;
and believe me. II is a gay study to his
heart sink at the sight of his French
brethren.
The whiskered pushr he breathes dis
gustedly. He is shocked at the boards that
Latin quarter students let rush--full or In
weird patches-from the moment they set
foot upon the sacred soil The men Of the
four arts wear wide pants, mon Dieu, my
God. Budding architects affect a fat-brim-
med nigh silk hat that must be seen to be
believed. Law students revel in frock coats
of rare old vintage. down below their knees.
Are they craZy?' Note, the question Is
not Are they drunk" Obviously alcohol
plays little part in all this boyish rowing.