Albuquerque morning journal. [volume] (Albuquerque, N.M.) 1903-1926, 1922-10-07
BY BLANCHE McMANUs.


French perfumes encircle the world
with magic ring of sweet charms,
In this industry France stands
unique, at the very head, and even
above the Partisan creations does
the mondalne covet these rare es-
sences, the fragrant souls of flowers
that the laboratories of Grasse alone
dstill in secret from the warm
bosoms of their blossom garlande5
hlllsides.
Between this old French Hill town
of the Mediterranean and America
IS a link Of sweetness long drawn
out and Strengthening with every
revolving season. The United States
is the best OF patrons OF the per-
fumes, the Scandinavian countries,
curiously coming second.
Grasse, little metropolis of some
twenty thousand souls, composes IT.
self naturally into a picture. Here
with is its portrait as one sees II
coming by the uplapping white
stretches Of winding roadway run
ming through the "plan,' or plain,
of Grasse, really a plateau, snugly
ensconced in the folds OF The circling
mountain hinterland Of tho French
Riviera.
Cannes, the first Of the big fash
ionable winter resorts Of the Riviera,
Is the front door to Grasse. Cannes
is on the shores of the Meditec-
ranean, Grasse is a dozen mics back
and up in It's mountain eyrie. The
Grassois speak of their brilliant,
mondaine Cannes as the port Of
Grasse. So 1t is, but all the Riviera
pleasure seekers pay Grasse visit
to see for themselves how the souls
of flowers are made into tangible
forms, also costly forms. A small
hacon of Grasse perfume in the new
fiat vestpocket shapes makes hole
In ones pocketbook all out Of pro-
portion to its size.
Grasse, like all other hill towns Of
Mediterranean France, sits on
rocky pinnacle, enthroned In Its
medieval ramparts like queen
whose feet are bathed in sea Of
flowers. The plan OF Grasse Is COW
cred with the allotments and prop
erty of flower farmers, interspersed
with terraces of gray, old. gnarle1
olive orchards, with oranges and
lemons intermingled.
In this sheltered garden spot ara
grown throughout the year all the
perfume plants of the alchemy %
the craft. Within a length Of
bare fifty miles, with the barrier OF
the Alps to shelter it from the icy
northern winds and the Mediter-
ranean of a lapis-lazuli blue meet
ing sapphire sky of endless sun
shine before 1t, these gardens of per-
fume flowers terrace themselves
laboriously up hill and down dale.
Five thousand acres are under cul-
tivation in the rarest OF essence
yielding flowers which give their
nectar to the dressing tables OF
beauty throughout the world. Car
pets of violets in all shades of pur
pies and mauves. fields Of tiny fra
grant red roses, delicate, jasmine, SER
ried rows Of white narcissi. mimosa
that rivals the golden fleece In
magnificence, heliotrope In trained
branches of overpowering fragrance,
stately tuberoses, mignonette, carna-
tons of varied hues, basil, verveine
(Which we call lemon verbena) Law
ender-both wild and cultivated
marjolaine, lilacs and lilies of the
valley, all are here, row upon row
and rank upon rank,
Ten thousand flower workers grow
and pick these blooms for the alem-
bics of the perfume factories on the
heights above. In the spring the
plain is seen at its best, the flower
fields filled with pickers-men and
children with big baskets on arm,
the women with their blue and white
aprons turned UP like big panniers,
picturesque figures all in their couu-
try costumes Of bright colored print
dresses and crossed fichus, their
heads shaded with tapping straws
banded with black velvet, with per-
haps a great kerchief draped over
the back Of the head as further sun
shelter, Watteau-lke effects they
make as they move through the
fields of tuberoses growing near by
as high as themselves, wandering
up lanes of starry white Jasmine or
bending over beds of fragrant vio-
lets under the gray-green shadows
of century old olives.
They gather the blooms and bios
SONS by great handfuls, tossing
them into basket or girdled apron.
The men workers, too, give a meas
ure or rustic coloring in glistening
white shirts. big. baggy blue and
brown velveteen trousers, buttons
galore at ankles and yards of red
sashes swan thing their middles.
Thus unfolds the series of ami
mated pictures of delicate hue as tue
flower pickers of the garden plain
climb the crumbling stone stairs
leading from one terrace to another
higher up, and finally the town. One
fancies that these were the inspired
motifs of the painter Fragonard, he
of the celebrated four panels that
have been so disputed by art col
lectors and that finally found a
resting place in a cadre worthy Of
their fame and beauty in New