The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1919-08-18
By PIERRE MILE, (French Author.)

Paris, August 1S.-Yesterday, be- cause of sthe transportas-on strike, came back on foot from the second hand tobacco market. It is a pictur- esque spot, that market, but my jour ney was quite useless. The dealer, who carries on his little business in a wine shop on the Rue Maitre-Albert, said to me coldly, 'Tobocco? There it is bourgeois there it is, Forty cents for forty grammes.' l answer him that he must be exaggerating. for a package of ordinary Caporals. accord ing to the last proclamations, should cost but a frank. He answered me imperturba bly and carelessly. Well. hen find some.' And after all it is true that the only cheaper form of tobacco which can be found in the tobacco bureaus are those little pack ages of Brazilian cigarettes which weigh only twenty-five grammes and cost three francs. Nevertheless forty cents for a package of tobacco, and second hand tobacco at that we'll that seemed much too dear. I shan't smoke any more, that's all; it will benefit my health.
 My wife, to whom I communicated these observations, did not fail to se- cond me in my decision. She even add ed, That will save me from eternalIy having to mend your trousers Did you know that you had a hole burn ed in them for the third timer
 Upon this third occasion, the pair If trousers, however. were taken to he repairer. This artist Gisdainfully made known to the world that there was nothing to be done; 1t appeared that this indispensable article was
 
 ings, 3one with new thread, would be seen no matter how neatly they were made. Moreover, the vest of that suit ma poo Unfortunate men, whose task it is to write. are alwasy rubbing heir vest against the same place at their desk, and there results from this unhappy wear which leaves a whiten- ing streak upon the material.
 So there it is, I have nothing left to put on. I do not know how I can decently call upon any of my fellow citizens. This clothes question, for those who are neither millionaires nor merry, care-free preletarians, is becoming a dreadful problem.
 At the beginning of the war. all though the prices were still within the range of reason, I did not renew my wardrobe, because, as everybody said, Nobody knew just what was go- ing to happen and it was wise to make economies And then. the war contfn- ued. I went to my tailor-a, minor tailor-who used to make me a suit for 14O francs. He asked 200. walked out of the shop. 'There'H be an end to this some time,' said I, and prices will surely fall. And while waiting for prices to fall. I explore my clothes closet. I discovered in it treasures whose very existence I had forgotten, whole suits and various pairs of col ored trousers, some or which were well worn to be sure, yet, neverthe- less, capable of being made over. Then there were vests of still another col or, but 1t seems that such is the style. Well, I managed to make up some suits, somewhat harlequin in effect, I fear, but not without distinc- ton. With a cane which I carry very elegantly, I still made quite a figure.
 The next year I went to my tailor again. He asked me 300 francs. walked out of the shop. That will come to an end some time
 And so it did; we had the armistice and the victory.
 Everybody embraced everybody else, and to celebrate the times in proper fashion, I ran to my tailor. He asked $50 francs. I walked out of the shop. Once home, I hurried again to the depths of my clothes closet. Alas, there was absolutely nothing in tt, absolutely nothing The end is at hand and now my tailor wants 45O francs. Four hundred and fifty francs,' he said to me. and that without any lining. Without any lining" Yes, our