Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-09-21

Where the Flashing Eyed He,
brew Girl Serves Papers to
Refugees of Affiliations.

Jon, who keeps the ladies' cloakroom and
lavatory. also keeps the phials and hypo-
dermc syringes of three morphine ladies
and two morphine gentlemen and doles
out their agreed supply to them four times
a day, no more? She does 1t out of love
and friendship. Do you think a ten-cent
tip is real pay for such minute and annoy
ing service to crank neuropaths?
When I enter the Grand Cafe, Gustave
comes running. On his face there widens
smile that Is f1attering and grateful to
better, men than I. We know that our
next moment in little individual earthen
pot No coffee from the Omnibus for US
the great silver pot that SINNERS all the
afternoon.
Should we bring a young lady for her
afternoon tea, Gustave will see to 1t that
the toast is waferthin and golden. Madame
Taclet has three grades of butter. Gustave
will assure us the first grade. There will
be bouquet on the table in two minutes.
Gustave will hand the girl q fan. which
she can carry off.
What price the smile of Gustave? What
price his friendly solicitude when he in
forms me that So-and-so desires to meet ME
here at 3 pm? If am incumbered nth
package a valise. l leave 1t with Gus
tave. Gustave has q supply of bicarbonate
of soda for his clients when they suffer in
digestion. He has capsules Of antpyrin
ready against headache, -
1 have spoken of ladies' afternoon tea
and there is the beauty of 1t, you can take
a lady. The Boulevard cafe is no barroom.
1t Is vast and splendid hall, with a still
greater hall at right angles with 1t and
great rotunda for the restaurant.
The carpets are soft and heavy. The up
holstering is soft and inviting, In dark
leather. There is no noise.
At 5 pm, the green hour, you may find
the paregoric perfume Of the absinthe just
a bit thick: but the hardest drinker- OF the
Grand Cafe, our unique, baptised ''alco-
holic," the Pere Picon, has never been
known to raise his voice above the gentle
murmur of these lotus grounds.
To See Pere Picon.
It is, indeed, one of the quiet Joys of the
clientele to watch the Pere Pcon, all sails
furled, matches down, right, taut tight,
button himself up, stand straight compose
a severe, worthy face, take bearings, aim
for the door, Craze two tables, fetch up, go
by, come to, and get there, his ear just
missing the door jamb, and on out into the
cold, revivifying air. The Pere Picon Is
always a gentleman, and so seem to be all
the other aperitf fiends, dreamy, nervous.
silent. visionary perhaps. but all well under
the admirable Partisan self-control.
Absinthe may be running France; but you
cannot see it. Look around Two-thrds of
the glasses. even at the green hour, are
1iiled with syrup and water. coffee. milk
and-orange-fower water light and foamy
'bavaroises" of chocolate, harmless green
mint, port sherry and madeira. Tea is on
the immense increase.
The clients of the Boulevard Cafe, indeed
do not go to their favorite cafe to drink.
The mass OF us take but one single glass or
cup; If we get tipsy, it Is not by reason Of
its contents.
There Is a subtle tipsiness. Yes, It comes
from the lights, the perfume of women. the
colors, the frou-frou, the sparkle and hum
Till late In autumn we like to sit outside
at the twilight hour. 1t IS the terrace"
On the sidewalk, under the great awning,
at three hundred little tables. we sit
watching, dreaming. We delight in the
moving throng of the boulevard, the blue
gray of the Paris dusk, the lighting up. the
million twinkling stars of electricity. the
darling cab lights, the oncoming sunset
red, the roll the rumble. the ceaseless foot
steps. Onward rolls the mighty human
river, STERLING HElLlG