The herald-advance. (Milbank, S.D.) 1890-1922, 1917-11-30

WOmln'S soul when ner eyes
wore a veil of sad tears and
brave laughter? That is Paris
just now, after three years Of war sor-
row and war triumph, writes James
Milne in the Graphic. She has let sore
tears fall, but, like the tears which
make pearls, they begin to shine in the
sun of assured victory. Paris puts her
trials behind her, resolute that they
are v e and must be forgotten. She
lets the smiles Of e naturally merry
heart light the road before her, know
ing how to play the heroine in these
great days, as she played them In the
great days of old. "Paris vaut bien
une messe !" said Henri Quatre. II he
came back to her from the royal
shades, he would think her worth
many masses.
Perhaps one knows q French lady
who, In her elegant self. seems to in
carnate War-Paris. She will wear
black for somebody heroically dead,
or in tribute to the nations lost le-
gion,'' who are not really lost. only
gone before to prepare the way of q
touch of white somewhere to tighten
the black, as the sun breaks through
clouds into q clear sky. Maybe she
has been nursing. this French lady,
eyer since the war began. But there
is no WEAKNESS in her bright eyes, no
forgetfulness of the art, simple, subtle.
instructive, with which the French
woman wears her clothes. You SYM
pathetically ask for tales of tragedy
begotten in her circle by the hard ex-
cursiOns Of Armageddon. She bends
her head %reverently, a fash In her
face, and tells you the latest good
story Of inimitable Monsieur Poilu.
Women Capable and Serious.
That, IL you please, Is Madame
Paris, us you meet her in Boulevard
and Bots, q oma who mourns for the
departed, but in the cause of their de-
parture finds a new moral inspiration.
You understand her and salute her, in
maid, wife and widow. How capable
they are, how serious, how detached,
to all appearance, from the frills and
furbelows Of the wOman's life as we
used to regard it. But they remain
complete women. with a coquettish
response for a compliment, If 1t be del
icate enough.
Even Charles Edward Stuart, an
cient bachelor as he Is, Philistine as
he fondly thinks himself to be, takes
of his hat to the Parlslenne In this
war time. He Is a dear friend of ours,
he lives In Old Paris. just as the young
pretender might have done, up a wind
ing oak staircase SO dark that the
concierge gives you a candle to light
1t, and that Is why we add a word to
his rightful name and call him Charles
Edward Stuart. EYES," says he, 1.-THE
Parisienne is ut least as fine as the
Partisan under the war ordeal, some
might say finer, q better mettle of the
French pasture. She Is a %consollng
'orce, at q high surge like this, of the
fascinating and repulsive, mysterious
aud commonplace. awful and trivial
life In which, God knows why, per-
haps, we have been pitched for q few
moments"
In Old Paris.
When a new book appears, read an
old one when you want to understand
the spirit Of today's Paris, go down In
to Old Paris /; so we went to st. Etienne
tlu Mont, near the Pantheon. 1--WE are
lucky" whispered Charles Edward
Stuart, as we stood within the sacred
walls, 'in being here under the best
conditions. Look! that CLEAN Of sun
falling on the little red-robed acolyte.
And the clouds Of incense fron his
swinging censor-it II great" Maj
guerite de valols would think 30 her.
self, and the founding Of st. Etienne
<lu Mont goes back to her. That was
the old church, and q window shows
the removal Of the shrine Of the
ssSainte" to the Q church.
It IL, you see, the Paris that the Ger.
mans wanted to loot, and they would
not, like ourselves, have stayed out.
side the door Of st. Etienne du Mont
and looked ACROSS the road At the
wealth Of picturesque old houses,
They are typical Of the ancient bridge
houses, and prints show the Point Neul
to have been bordered with these. Nor
would the Huns have wandered to the
Impasse des Boeufs, which looks his'
tory to the very marrow. but has none
that ID recoverable. "S0 much the bat.
ter for people Of Imagination Quotl
Charles Edward Stuart. @Isn't 4 I
nice. tumbled, jumbled, dirty, lasci1ot'