PARISIANA.

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 134, 8 June 1929, Page 7 (Supplement)

PARISIANA.

ARTISTS , WARMING DISH.

UNSHAVEN PARISIANS.

(By GEORGE CECIL.)

When chill winter sets in, Paris is uncommonly cold, and the art students in the Montparnaese quarter, being none too well off, suffer accordingly. There is, however, a ' cafe where they may thaw, so to speak, at their' ease, in a centrally-heated room, adorned with countless pictures (of no value) presented by grateful young painters to the proprietor, who, haying a tender heart, befriends many a would-be Velasquez of the future. Known as "The Students' Rendezvous," it shelters dozens of lads and lasses every afternoon and evening. Cheered by "hot dog," each forgets that the path which leads , to fame, or the re.verse, is a etony one. For the moment they are contentedl

"Hot dog" consists of super-milky rice pudding, served in a bowl, flavoured with, cinnamon and brought to the consumer at boiling-point. The charge is threepence, a trifle which decidedly gives value for money, since those who are so minded have the right (as the French put it) to add a pinch of grated nutmeg and a dash of vanilla, these spices being provided free by the benevolent management. The consumer who has sold a picture, or who feels inclined to celebrate some other occasion, 'pours a tablcspoonful of kirsche (a sort of diluted cherry brandy) over the "hot dog." Mixed flavours appeal to the dauber's palate.

The longest-haired student in Montparnasse, a genius who has a poor opinion of the Old Masters, invented the dish, which is considered the most filling —and by far the most warming—of any to be had for threepence. Distinctly a boon to all economists, of whom there are many in art circles.

At Last. When it became the fashion to wear much hair on the face Parisians allowed their mostachois and whiskers to assume gigantic proportions. On the return of the French army from the Crimea, bearded to a man, Nature's covering was encouraged on bare faces. Later, young men, considering that the shaven chin was more likely to please those ladies upon whom they had set their affections,, wielded the razor. The whiskers—known as disappeared, while since the late war mostachee also have been sacrificed, at least seven in every ten men under fifty being clean-shaven. Elderly politicians certainly are bearded, and venerable ecientiets, being no doubt too busy to shave, possess a beard apiece such as Father Christmas might envy. But uncommonly few young Parisians grow "face fungus."

The average man who is clean-shaven has yet ■to learn that shaving is not an operation which should only be undertaken on special occasions, such as Sunday, a day of rejoicing, a notable anniversary, the death of a dearly-loved mother-in-law, and so forth. Many, who are by way of being clean-shaved, go about with faces , which are in a most abominable state; the razor is, alas, given a holiday several times a week. Blue-chinned and equally blue-cheeked are these odious slackers; each lip is shaded by an unwelcome excrescence. A most unpalatable sight; and offence against the sacred laws of cleanliness and chic.

Happily, a percentage of Parisians who elect to go hairless are at last being made to understand that all who occupy a certain social position must shave every morning before going about their business or pleasure. They no longer dream of leaving the house unshaven, while those who are cursed with a heavy growth shave a second time before embarking on the evening's enjoyment. The unclean brigade (very improperly) jeers at them.

To England by Train. The Channel Tunnel discussion has greatly interested a member of the American Colony in Paris, a talkative person, who, according to his own account, once was a noted civil engineer. Quoting the Key West Extension of the Florida East Coast Railway, he asks "why, in thunder, the French and the British do not build a bridge across the darned Channel?" "What Florida can do should be easy enough for the cute •Frenchies, and effete England might anyway come down with the dollars," the expert has, informed an engineering paper. The editor, having that most priceless of gifts, a sense of humour, has invited his correspondent to favour him with a detailed plan of construction. It should be interesting and entertaining — especially if the soundings are given.

Meanwhile, the long-abandoned shaft of the Channel Tunnel (to which King Edward greatly objected) may be seen at Sangatte, a little way from Calais. The pickaxes and spades lie where the workmen left them.