Pine Bluff daily graphic., 1913-01-12
(By LA RACONTEUSE)


 Iails, Jan. Ill have always thought and still think Paris is tn, only place in the world where life is really worth living. But I have moi always realized that what like mos, here is not the gay life of she boule. wards, the glittering cafes, the mag nlflcient shops of Avenue De 1'Opera and Rue de Ia Paix, nor even the gay reVues and naughty but bright and Witty little plays that would be i'm possible anywhere but ill Paris. But 1t is the uncertainty, the excitement that is always in the air.
 Nothing is ever certain in Paris except tat we are always living ill dread of the great strike with which We are always threatened, but which never comes. The thought of this awful strike makes us shudder most delightfully."- and gives Us the same sensation when you are watching a play at the Grand Guignol.
 How our working people here, Mrlc individually are most polite and charming, though they do look like the worst kind of ruff ans with thel long blue blouses and baggy cordu-  roy trousers, must enjoy the feeling of their own power. Truly they are the autocrats of Paris. At their smallest grunt the streets of Paris are filled with soldiers. Night after night you are awakened by the sound of cianking swords and trampng of horses. Often it is almost impossible to get hold of provisions.
 When a strike is expected, and tbat is at least once a month, people here act as if we were n danger of a siege. The great Felix Potin, the Paris king of eatables, sees his bank account swelling and his immensa stocks cleaned out. Day and night in queue at h s various stores fight ing for a chance to buy at least a ham, dozen sausages or a side Of bacon and the hndmost always have to go empty handed.
 - The other day we were told that a plot had been discovered to cut off the citys supply of water and we all went to work and stored up water Ill all the hollow vessels we could lay our hands on. An American million aire bought 10000 litres of spring water from Evian to be sure not to have to go without his cold bath Tn the morning.
 We think only of how to escape starvation. People who meet you ac' cidentally and are absolute strangers to you ask you in the mos lnteres1eu manner: "How many hams have you got? How many k.los macafohl' How much sugar and what not
 Then, when the dreaded day of the expected strike arrives, you don't know Paris. It looks like enythln2 in the world but itself.' The streets are almost empty, only here ana there you see man skimmlng alohs like greased lightning.
 In the avenues around Arc de WIT mph the happy hunting grounds under ordinary circumstances of ba- h;es and nurses with long flapplns ribbons everything is quiet You don't see a single child, far less nurse. The cabmen and chauffeu's are sleeping peacefully inside men resnective conveyances disturbed by m sihi]ant: "Pat, cocher.'
 Even the street vendors for one day spare your ears. Their strldeh' voices are silent, for they know tha' i,st now everybody has enough 1000 stored up, and that nobody cares loi flowers or toys. Paris looks ike city asleep. :,
 And as :t looks above ground Il looks below. Metropclitanne, the paris s1hwav which ordinarily car