ALONE IN PARIS.

Dominion, Volume 4, Issue 1166, 17 June 1911, Page 10

ALONE IN PARIS.

IN THE LATIN QUARTIER. (By Evelyn Isitt.) After "batching" for five months in a Bloomsbury apartment house and two weeks in tho Latin Quartier of Paris, I am inclined to think that, for n woman living absolutely alone, Paris is the moro dcsirablo home—that sho runs less risk of being dull or of having timo hang heavily on her hands here than in London, and also that, high though some of the prices are, she can still livo hero more cheaply—can at any rate travel about the city to all the places of interest with expenditure of muck less time and money.

When I came over from Loudon with a 30s. Easter excursion ticket, available tor a fortnight, 1 set my heart on making £'a cover the whole cost of the trip, and though people who knew Paris said it could not bo done, I have done it, with one or two shillings to spare. 1 havo had my days packed with beautiful sights, and have found tho experiment so satisfactory that I am extending the two weeks to four. Kooms can be had in the old famous neighbourhood for 10 francs, or Ss. -Id. a. week, which includes attendance, and, in some cases, lighting as well. 1 was specially fortunate in having a student friend hero who found a. room for me, and took me about for the first few davs-a help- that sho herself bad had to 'do without. Of course, ono forages in tho little shops near by and cooks one's own food, for strict economy does not allow of restaurant meals in this citv, where the gracious Lyons, such a benefactor to Londoners, has not yet spread his nets. Next to the two francs 1 had to par for a taxi-cab from tho station the night I arrived to the 2s. 10(1. spent for a whole day's excursion to the beautiful chateau and forest of Chantilly, tho °s Gd. I had to pay to hear "Tannhauser" at the opera, and the Is. Bd. winch procured me tho pleasure of comparing the glittering French production of Jno Blue Bird"' with the more poetic and beautiful London conception, my heaviest expenditure has been Is. 7d. for a verypoor meal at a little restaurant round tho corner. People recommended Duval s restaurants as tho cheapest in Paris', but compared with London prices Duval is dear, and it is much moro satisfactory to buy one's own food. ■ And, judging from what I have heard of pensions here, it is better to "batch than to board. "I can't think what animal it is that they give us,' I heard one American student say the other day. "They call it 'agncau,' but a iamb has not more than one backbone, and this has "i passed a butcher's shop the other dav," «aid her friend in a hushed whispei. "ono of those where they sell horseflesh, and there were a lot of little madeup dishes that I recognised at onco as the things they give us at the 'pension.'" Decidedly it is better to "batch. , The first two' or three days I was very hungry. The bread sold in narrow crustv rolls a yard or moro in length is not' as satisfying as our English bread; tho tinned food was unpleasant to look at; fruit is scarce, dear, and unattractive; and very uninviting, too, are the vegetables, for Paris is not nearly so well provided for as London with fruit, vegetables, or flowers. Eggs that can bo relied on cost 2d. each, and tea is of a prohibitive price. So for .three days I lived on roll bread and butter, eggs, and cocoa, made out ,of little penny tins, which hold enough for eight or nine cups. . Then I.began to learn my way about, found that one gets very good cooked vegetables—greens, lentils, potatoes—at a cost of about' Id. for each person; that excellent dried soups are sold in penny packets, containing enough for two; that while biscuits and cakes are only for the. rich, paiu d'epiecs, or honey cake, at Od. a lb. is quite nice, and "even more nourishing than gingerbread; that one can buy sections of what' they call English broad for 2d. a pound, and that even to Paris have Quaker oats penetrated. Good old Quaker oats! With what joy I pounced on a sixpenny packet, and brought it homo to vary the bread diet —not, however, to cook it in the French way, as set forth on tho side of the packet thus: "Take some boiling water, salt' it a little, add the Quaker, and butter, then, before serving, add a little milk or cream and a beaten-up egg." To havo to depend entirely on a methylated spirit lamp rather limits the menu, and it also makes washing day—the day of small things—rather expensive. Baths are not provided in these apartment houses. They are to be had in bathing establishments for from ono franc upwards.

This is a poverty-stricken neighbourhood— a collection of treeless, narrow streets liko ravines. So tremendously high are the buildings—houses, I was going to say, but, now 1 conic to think of it, I do not remember having noticed any houses yet in Paris. Hotels there are, built round paved courtyards, and these—five, six, or seven-storeyed buildings—crammed full of a varied human life—but not' houses as we know them in New Zealand, or oven as they are known in crowded London city. In- the centre of the quarter is the beautiful Jardin do Luxemburg, where just now trees in full white blossom ishimmer delicately against the pale green of the 'new lime foliage, and near by passes the leafy Boulevard St. Michel, but elsewhere hardly a hint of green is to be seen. Tho grey cobblo stones of the streets, tho grey walls, and ornamental iron work of these old shuttered houses have it all. their own way. Surely it was green here, too, when Dante walked these streets in. his student year, and one hopes thnt when Abelard and Heloise, from. their garden on the island in tho Seine, gazed across at this busy quarter,' the grey walls and pointed towers were half hidden in foliage. But that was long centuries ago. Closely packed together in narrow streets, thero must bo hundreds of these apartment houses, where the landlady, "Madame," lets her rooms to single students; no questions asked, no supervision exercised, no rules of the house to be observed, everyone free to come and go when and how he pleases. One aspect of such life has been very fully dealt' with, and there is no denying its picturesque, romantic possibilities, but thero is another side, too, a sober, dogged, determined side, and among the few .students of brilliant talent, the hundreds who claim a license of brilliance, thero are hundreds of others living as quietly and sedately as if in the best supervised house in Bloomsbury, liko grey-coated sparrows flitting through a tropical forest, adding nothing to its brilliance, but sharing its life. This is a noisy neighbourhood. London knows nothing like it, though Niagara may. All day and nearly all night long vehicles rattle violently over these cobble stones. This room is'at a dizzy height, five storys above tho street, but the first I had was on the first floor, and so deafening was the noise that it became a question whether to leave tho window open, and be dinned into a feverish sleep, or to suffocate in comparative quiet. Even when tho vote was for peaceful suffocation, (he noise would penetrate, and I would wake panic stricken at some fearful sudden uproar—anpalling as the crash of doom, indescribable, inexplicable. In thoso dark, early hours one' guessed that the ghosts of the deadly tumbrils were jolting their way once moro through there tragic streets to the Place do la Concord*- and tho guillotine. Perhaps, after all. Paris is not tho ideal town for (he lonely woman with nerves.

But how fascinating it is—how sombre and tragic, and threatening, how gay, and complacent and amiwd, with what a rapacity for enjoyment, and what a power of n.wion!

Paris is new. That is th» first thing the visitor discovers. "fin this site," says the adorable Baedeker over and over again, "stood tho , which was destroyed in 1871." for those historic buildings which had for centuries withstood tho onslaught of lime, the fury of the Revo, lotion, and the shell of the besiogin" Prussians, went down before the Com" munards in IS7I. It was then that the I'olac? of the Tuiler'fs vanished in name that (ho Hotel <k Villc. with COO Communards still within its walls, was burned to the ground, and that tho Palm's de Justice, tho scene of the trials of Louis. Mntie Antoinette. Charlotte Corday, and brave and forgotten aristocrats, was destroyed with 240 other buildings. And yet. for all this, there is so much more la he scon here than in London, with its centuries of peaceful progress. Thero are the great collodions in London, public, and private, but they want the glamour, tho charm, the setting of,

tho treasuries nf Paris. Always one Loops making comparisons, wondering whv when .Franco lias lavished such pride and earc on Paris, England lias not done tho same for her wonderful city; and then it is comforting to ho reminded by K. V. Lucas that tho energy which Frenchmen have devoted to Ills making of Paris, has led Englishmen to tho creation of new nations over seas—that for those magnificent buildings and splendid monuments wo have to show America, Australia, and New Zealand. "If you wish to know what no are," say tho Parisians, "look around you." "If you wish to know what wo really are," say, (he English, "you must look across the ocean and to tho other side of (he world."

Paris is not as complicated as London. Tho solitary woman armed with Baedeker —and how one, loving Baedeker for oneself, dislikes to moot a score of other Englishers carrying it!—will have little difficulty in finding her way about (ho town, and no difficulty at all in finding tho treasures of ail the collections. Some knowledge of French is a distinct advantage, but, on the other hand, it is apt to bo a dangerous thing, and one can get along well enough with a dictionary and a fewwords. The Parisian loves to correct tho foreign pronunciation, or rather accentuation, and does it a little impatiently, and it may be said here that the courtesy of tho casual Parisian docs not compare with tho courtesy of the Londoner of all classes. This is "not my fortnight's opinion, but the experience of a friend who has been here for months with a lantern looking for the famous, fino courtesy of the French. And now it strikes me as a little ungracious to say so, as I remember how on two occasions, once in the Bon Marche and once at a street corner, Frenchwomen have come to tho rescue of my meagre French, and given mo in English the direction I desired—the old lady in Notre Damo on Easter Sunday, who pointed out eagerly the best point from which to see the procession, and tho other lady, with whom I had an interesting if faltering conversation in the gay Garden do Luxembourg: Oh, yes, they are kind, too.

It seemed something of innovation to go to the opera all by oneself, but the women students here must do it if they wish to make tho most of their time. Between the acts one can wander down to tho grand stairs, and watch the promenndcrs in this most magnificent of foyers— tho women in varied costume, the men wearing their hats and carrying cones— and then after the performance is over comes the midnight ride on top of ttic omnibus, through tho glittering, busy s.treets and over the black river, bright with its long reflections of red and yellow lights. Always is it worth while to ride on lop of a bus—which less than to po inside—especially if it is at night, or if it is a horse bus, and you can .sit near the driver, with his funny shining little black sailor hat. and watch him fussily guiding his spiritless team through the disorderly traffic, eneouragiiur them with loud shouts and cries, as if ho were a king's special messenger dashing across open country with a team of lively, tireless steeds. .He drives cleverlv. there is no doubt about that, but I should liko to hear a London 'busman commenting on his methods, just as I should love to hear a London driver negotiating a fiend of Paris traffic.

I have not said anything of the sunshine, the beauty of the city, the treasures of the Louvre, and the other museums, nil of which arc free, like cvervfhintt else in this exquisite city, tho family charm of the Champs Elysces. and the .Tardins, but everyone knows of them. This is just to say that even to tho woman alone in Paris they reveal their glamour and charm.