The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1909-03-04
LETTER FROM PARIS.

at least, once a month.
1t seems to me that something ought to
be written about these French people, for
as things now stand they are grossly
misrepresented. Most of us used to
think that they were an immoral, sacri
ligious, frog-eating nation, only waiting
for the trump of doom to be sent into
everlasting punishment. Now, that is
not true. They are no worse than the
rest of US, and in some ways much bet
ter. They may eat frogs, or their buoy
ant spirits may lead them to commit
faults forbidden by the decalogue. But
frogs, land by the way never saw
Frenchman eat frog,) and their pecca-
dilloes are no sins from their point of
view. There is great deal in custom,
and our conscience is in large measure,
what our mothers have taught us.
Frenchmen rarely swear. In fact, there
is not word in the French language
that rises to the dignity of an oath. 1t
needs year in some American city to
accustom the French ear and tongue to
profanity. If were a Frenchman and
wanted to swear, would learn English.
have lived here in Paris for about five
months and have learned to love the peo-
Pile, all of them l mean, for my age pre-
cludes the possibility of settling down to
love any particular one. During that
time nothing has occurred that would
cause one to think that the people of
Paris are worse than other people.
There have been murders, robberies,
strikes, and all the other attendants of
civilization, but such things occur every
where. Of course, there are manners
that sometimes shock good American
| like myself, but in general | have met
with nothing but courtesy The average
| Frenchman is an actor. All his MOTORS
are instinctively dramatic, and he often
leads one to think that all his character
is on the outside. He is surrounded from
childhood by art and artistic objects,
and he seems to model his gestures and
clothing from artistic designs. The de-
signs are not always of the most recent
fashion, but they are always picturesque.
1t takes twice as long to erect house
here as it does in America, but when it is
done there are no square corners, and
every nook is decorated. The butcher
shops, the bakeries, the dry goods stores,
even the omnibuses and trolley cars
show an attempt at decoration, as if they
were for something else than for supply
ing the wants of the populace.
There are certain things that seem to
US an abomination. The barber shops,
for example, are of the most primitive
kind. The French are not BARRIERS, and
however bare and uncomfortable their
shops may appear, the work that they do
in them is much worse. They don't
know how to cut hair or shave; they
don't know how to make a shoe, and
they don't know how to hurry. They
drink oceans of wine, but rarely get
drunk. They bow to you most dramati-
cally, greet you most politely, then spit
on the floor and rub it in with their feet.
Of course, l have seen only the outside
of these people, but they seem to me
light-hearted, generous, and artificial.
) They are the product of centuries, and
when our nation shall have reached the
age of theirs, shall we be any better
than they? The daily workman has a
hard time. Pay is small, hours are long,
and food is dear. But, really, when l see
the men at their work, it seems to me
) that they receive all they earn.
There is much of Paris and more OF
France that l have not yet seen, but
have already seen as much as many who
come to America and write large volumes
about our people. 1t does one good tt
travel in foreign countries, for trave
7 takes away our self-esteem, gives us 8
broader view of the world, and best Of
!, all, teaches us to love our own country.
JOHN E. CLARKE.
Paris, France, February 9, 1909.
cA9ToEEA.
i Pear. til. H1hs Kind You Have Always Bought