CHRISTMAS IN PARIS

New Zealand Times, Volume LXXVI, Issue 5211, 27 February 1904, Page 15

CHRISTMAS IN PARIS

THE DOCTXUXE OF CiIEEHFUDXKSS. A COLON LUTS mPUESSIOXS. (From Our Special Correspondent.) LONDON. January 9. Paris at Christmas-time (writes a New Zealander from the giy city) begins at Victoria and Charing Cross, The platform for tho bout-drain is crowded with Frenchmen, mwt of them on a Hying vkk to Paris for tho holidays. Tiiey form the majority of tho passengers, and hero in the heart of London French suddenly becomes the predominant tongue; even the porters talk French in

snatches. It is one more evidence of tho cosmopolitan character of our vast metropolis. Thu run across at this time of year, what with the crowding and tho cold, is distinctly disagreeable, especially if made by night. At Nowiiaven there is a general scramble for berths—such as they are—on tho steamer, and then you lie down a d listen to the pounding of the screw for tho next three or lour hours. Only the most hardened voyager can sleep in such a racket. The boat roaches Dieppe about.2 a.m., and a couplo of waiters at tho little railway station aro driven nearly frantiu in vainly trying to appease tho hunger and thirst of a hundred and fifty hall-frozen travellers. A restaurant more ludicrously under-manned I have never seen. Another train journey of four hours or so lands you in Pans in the grey dawn of a winter morning. Jjy the timo the “Cochcr ,J with tho white glazed hat lias driven you to your destination, and tho queer old “concierge” has unlocked tho great gates to let you in, you have begun to thaw sufficiently to take once more a human interest in your surroundings.

Tho Colonial who wants to see Paris at its best must go there in the summer, when tlio trees aro fresh and green, and boulevards and gardens renew their beauty under the mellowing influence of a genial sun. This is Paris as the great majority of tourists see her. At Ohristmas-timo sho wears a very' different, and, to tho Britisher, an unfamiliar aspect. Tho trees which line tlio boulevards aro bare and lifeless; tho sky is a leaden pall, and cold, grey mists spread dampness and discomfort through tho city. But tlio Parisians do not allow their chill surroundings to depress them. Tho more disagreeable the weather, tho more light-berated they strive to appear. During Christmas the streets aro full —almost uncomfortably full—of peoplo who aro plainly bent on extracting tho maximum of happiness from each passing Hour. In American parlance, they aro out to enjoy every minute. "Whether thoir light-heartedness is merely' on tho surfaco a visitor, of course, cannot toll. Some who have lived amongst them affirm that at heart the French aro sad, but that an innate dislike of sympathy or ridicule prompts them to hide their troubles and annoyances under a mask of “blague.” It may bo so—in which case one must admire tho success with which they conceal their sadness. At any rate, it is a gay and laugntor-loving crowd that throngs tho boulevards at Christmas time. Tho broad pavements aro lined for tho occasion with booths where one may buy all sorts of odds and ends, from jmsters to pancakes, and tho whole street assumes the aspect of a fair. In marked contrast to the gaiety of the crowd is the quietness of thoir attire. Black is tho prevailing colour, jvith women as with men. Black dress and shawl, without any hat to bide the neat coiffure, seems to be tho usual costume amongst the women of the poorer classes. “It is better, child (so the French girl’s catechism is supposed to run) that thy hair be neatly dressed than that thou shouldest have a whole frock.” If she be well-to-do, she reserves her sartorial splendour for the theatre, and walks abroad in quiet black. Tho .brightest figures in the crowd are the nurses, from whose trim caps broad streamers of pale blue or ogange-coloured ribbon bang almost to tho ground behind them. The red-trousered Zouaves, generally to bo found not far from the said streamers, add anotner touch of vivid colour to the scene. The French infantryman, by the way, has not the military bearing of Tommy Atkins. He is inclined to slouch, and his uniform, with its crude mixtures of colour, generally fits him badly. The solemn sido of Christmas can hardly be called obtrusive in Paris. Crowds of people attended morning service at Notre Dame on Christmas morning; but the historic church is one of the shoiv-places of the city, and a great number appeared to be sight-seers! While tho service proceeds/ the dimlylighted naves become a crowded,promenade, and the clattering of feet on tho flag-stones mingles with tho solemn strains of the organ. In a sort of sen-try-box witnui the church, close by the doorway, sits an old damo to collect contributions, for the poor. By the entrance to tho towers, whence you can look out over the city, sits another old dame to- collect more contributions, for the church. And if you go into the belltowor to see the famous “Bourdon” rung (it is a bell reserved for very solemn occasions), the bell-ringer is not above accepting yet another contribution —for himself. Iu the solemnity of tho Christ mas services, in short, the sightseer is not neglected. At ,tne Madeleine, in tho afternoon, there was the same blending of service and show. The great church was crowded to the doors, but all through the service steams of people kept pouring in and out. Along the avenue outside the Exhibition Building a wealth of gaily-coloured bunting caught tho eye. Within the vast hall an automobile show was in full swing—a display remarkable as much for its animation and colour as for its mechanical marvels. Out of doors the temperature was near freezing point, the air misty and damp, yet the boulevards were thronged, and with a holiday crowd too. Thoir gaiety was infectious. What did the weather matter, you asked yourself. Who could remain depressed amidst the laughter and tho movement on the “Bouie Miohe?”

Theatres played to splendid business during Christmas. Sarah Bernhardt was appearing in “La Sorciero,” but although the piece is by Franco’s leading playwright, M. Sardou, it is too melodramatic to allow the great actress full scope for her powers. But sho is still tho incomparable Sarah! The deep, musical voice, tho grace of movement, the fire and tho self-control, the delicate shadings of emotion —you find all these in her performance, and marvel tho more wiieu you think of the long years that have passed since first sho rose to fame. Time has indeed dealt lightly with this favourite of fortune. It was pleasant to see tho hold she still retains upon her public in Paris, as shown by the splendid attendance at the “Theatre Sarah Bernhardt,” and tho plaudits with which the star was greeted. Madame Bernhardt was not too well supported by the rest of the Oast. Tho hero was played by M. Decoeur, a young fellow of twenty-four, whose chief aim appeared to bo to tear not only tho passion nut every other emotion to tatters in a wild hurricane of words. In a word, ha ranted. The play gave no.

one else much opportunity—and it was 1 unconscionably long. More interesting was --Romeo and Juliette’ (Gounods Opera) at the Theatre National do Tupera. Alvarez a* Romeo sang magnificently, and he is an actor as well as a j great tenor. He rather over-shadoweu | tho prima donna, Allle, Aino Ackte, but ■ tho performance as a whole was a lino ; one. I wish I could picture tho brilliant; scone —the great auditorium, with its] wealth of crimson and gold, the gor- 1 gconsly-painted dome, the crowded; galleries of boxes rising tier upon tier, ! the decorations sumptuous and beauti-j ful beyond all description. It must ■ suffice to sav that the gaiety and tho 1 charm of Paris at Christmastide find fitting and complete expression in the glory'of its Theatre do rOpcra.