New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1915-08-09
RESERVIST, HOME,
FINDS PARIS DARK
"Sapristi." He Remarks
as He Sees Spread of
Trench Habits.


Paris. July 27.--The reservist home
for the first time after year at the
front realizes less the change in him
self than the transformation Of his
Paris.
He has acquired his new color gradu-
ally and has built up his hitherto un-
known muscles almost imperceptibly.
The blas6 Partisan, who left for the
front soft and pallid, with stopping
shoulder and spiritless eye, indifer-
emily interested in life, comes back not
only strengthened, but frightened; his
mind has been reopened to impressions.
The little revolutions that have grad
ually transformed Paris break upon
him all at once; he is more like tour
list visiting the French capital for the
first time than a man who knows, or
knew. his boulevards by heart
1t is a curious spectacle to see the
reservists swarming into the court OF
the Care du Nord like children full OF
picnic enthusiasm. They seem to dis
cover something new everywhere; first
of all il is the civilian mat gets their
curious attention. There is, first, the
surprise of the man from the trenches
that so many men were left at home;
then there is unconceaied amusement
at the gravity with which the less re-
assured of the n-combatantS read the
official commuridueS and calculate the
chances Of being safe in Paris another
winter.
The absence Of motor buses. the re-
duced number of automobiles and de-
creased facilities for transportation IN
spire all sorts of qu'ps and gibes at the
"civils"; as for himself, the reservist
has increased his stock Of resourceful-
ness. A year ago he would have fumed
when unable to find a cab; to-day he
trots off to the subway, satisfied and
amused to think that the "civils" must
be devilishly annoyed.
When he sits down on the terrace of
a cafe he amuses himself by ordering
prohibition drinks and pokes fun at
the old boulevarGier at his side who
takes his substitute for absinthe with
a grimace.
a
until 8 or 9 o'clock in the morning, he
has discovered new. Paris-the Paris
of the early hours-that goes cityward
from 7 o'clock on and is rarely seen at
its best by those who find it only when
submerged by the bIstlc Of the later
hours. The ordinary sewing woman,
with pricked and stained finger-ends,
comes first. A little later the smart
class Of milliners' models and seam
stresses, the shopgirls and stenog-
raphers, terminating with the mamie
quins and fOreladieS, the aristocracy OF
the great fur cloak and dressmaking
establishments.
War has reduced the number and
levelled conditions. The procession is
still charming, but with new features.
II is long line of white and black. No
crane here, for their mourning i demo
cratic; rich bereavements alone may
wear the aristocratic weeds. rose
who work content themselves with
black skirt and little jacket with white
collarette.
This little world that files past in
the early hours Is witness OF the trib-
ute Paris has paid to the "patrie."
Conversations vary little. One has
letter; another is anxious because she
hasn't one. Those in black talk with
out bitterness, without a sign OF revolt
against what they endure. Formerly
most of them en- route devoured stories
published by the morning papers.
Now they are plunged into the Off
cial communicates rom different Del
hgerent countries, on which they COM
ment with quite as much perspicacity
as the oald-headed gentleman who
later in he day wins or loses dozen
battles over his aperitif az his favOrite
cafe. Strangest of all, these girls be-
come assiduous readers of the Jour
nal Officiel"-the Congressional Record
of France They look at once to the
pages containing the citations in the
orders of the day. Every one of them
hopes TO find there the names of some
of the boys At he front. They general
ly have a little fowe- TO spare, and
this an early morning reservist gets,
along with one of the touching lessons
Of wartime in Paris.
"Sapris,i, But Paris is dark" is
common remark; not that II bothers
the reservist, who has acquired some
thing of the sight of cat al the front,
but he wonders how the "civils' can
stand il. Knowing that the cafes were
formerly closed al s o'clock. he wonders
why they are not filled, as in the old
days, until the present closing hour of
1890 That the civil" tells him,
"is something IN the nature of 'acclima-
tation.' like life az the front" He has
ACQUIRED the s o'clock habit, and this
habit has become as strong as the old
. o'clock in the .Iorning habit.