Walker Lake bulletin. (Hawthorne, Nev.) 1883-1926, 1914-10-24


first weeks In Paris would be
robbed of linguistic comfort.
j. These men-the drivers of taxis,
all young and with eyes sharp and
excited, and the drivers of carriages,
all old and with eyes dull and heavy
wing, and never ask to have it re-
pcated.
The wan consciousness of talking
French badly is not always the por-
ton OF those who talk 1t worst. A
certain self-assured type of American
women employs it with confidence
unaffected by originality and pecan
cy of accent. American men and
sweet mothers of ambitious daughters
"a domestic combination with which
Paris is filled-are least prone to make
use of French; yet when they do, 1t
is invariably with a charming If linn
tied perfection.
Fortunately out-of-door Paris speaks
language that Is beyond the tongues
of man, that voices itself In effable
civic beauty, in long vistas, in gener-
Gus skies, In wide avenues that lead
into fountain-spraying squares, which
widen like the transept of cathedrals,
and through which course in and out,
round and round like fine skaters, the
autos and the peoples of the world.
To see the Arch of Triumph from the
Carousel, the softening sun still high
over the low built city and pale
enough to be looked at, to see the
long avenue across the thin mists of
evening that fall like a protecting
veil. is to feel troubled, unreachable
presence; the sense of beauty.
sense that was given US unfinished, ar
rested In the making and which fades
unattained into mystery
Strange White Beauty.
The green of Paris grass and the
blue of Italian skies surely are the
most vivid colors in the world, and
from this green of grass and from
beds of flowers, Paris builds itself In
vivid white.
The newest building glaring in
cleanliness and the oldest grown gray
and darkened, invariably conform to
this colorlessness in this most colorful
of cities. Building material hulked
on the river shore like the backs of
waiting elephants, is all white, white
stones are wheeled through the
streets, white bags of mortar GU the
weighted boats, while sand lies piled
on the white entertainments, and along
the white streets. anonymc Is and
similar and blanched. stables and
stores and dwellings wall themselves
against the sidewalks. Adding the
note of artistry that unconsciously
prevails everywhere. workmen In
these new white buildings wear long,
white coats. white Shoes and form
groups of white-clad figures at little
sidewalk inns.
Paris Is handmade. Every embroid-
cred linen flower and every stone of
every wall has the look of minute
and detailed attention. There is no
big machinery. The small steam der
ricks that unload the deep sunken
barges hoist but one barrel at time.
And results grow huge under this IN
dividual toll.
In Walt Whitman's Leaves of
Grass" he sings praise to the strong
curb of city streets. Did he know
Paris. too, and the high. white walls
of its river banks. the masonry Of long
flights of stairs descending to the
shore, the profusion of stone bridges.
many arched. everywhere masonry
and uninterrupted securing curbs?
How prodigal Paris is Of architec-
tural decoration. of amending elabora-
ton. 1t is its soul. the expression Of
its ardent quest for variety, its un-
Willingness to continue uninterrupted
a line OF a curve. They place bronze
horses that rival the gold of the sun
on their bridges. they fill their gar
dens with white marbles. they cover
their walls with chiseled garlands,
they add beauty to beauty and by
some magic never arrive at making
beauty overdone.
There is a spell in standing on the
Bridge of Alma toward the close of
day when the sky is blue and deco
rated in great banks of white clouds,
and the Eiffel Tower rising from Its
nest Of trees bores into the heavens,
and up into regions further on than
anything made on solid earth.