STREET LIFE IN PARIS.

Otago Witness, Issue 1795, 17 April 1886, Page 26

STREET LIFE IN PARIS.

Curious Ways of Money-making.

In Paris there are said to bu 75,000 persons who wake in the morning without knowing whether they will have anything to eat during the day. But they must all eat, and they find their food, although their existence is ephemeral, anrl truly from hand to 'iiouth. The lazzarone of Naples, when he has earned the ten oauts which aro sufficient for his daily bread, remains carelessly lying on the stairs of some palace or gazing across the glistening sea ai Oapri or the small smoke-clad peak of Vesuvius, and will not bestow a glance on a stranger, who wishes to give him a chance of earning something. The Parisian lazzarone, his civilised brother, has similar manners and inclinations, except that he must earn more than ten cents, fjr his wants as a citizen of the French capital are greater. But in return he is a tax-paying citizen of the empire, and able to vote if not to be elected. I begin my account with

THE COMMISSIONAIRE, who is in reality only a shoeblack, but in addition he is everything possible, and performs ommissions of every description, as his name iadicates. He is crafty, clever, and discreet, and at the same time honest, so far as such a man can be honest. The commissionaires form a separate caste, one inscribed at the mayor's office, and each has his number, which he must wear 1 very ostensibly on a small brass plate. There are about 6000 in Paris, who, however, are divided into numerous classes. The commissionaire of the inner boulevard stands at the head, and those stationed at the Boulevard dcs Italiens and about the Grand Opera are fine fellows who read their paper in the morning and smoko their cigar, aud live more at the wine shop opposite than at the corner of theii street. For two sous every commissionaire will olean our boots, and tell us, while brushing, the litest occurrences of his quarter — there a gas explosion, or an omnibus upset ; here a fire or an arrest ; — he has seen them all, and on each occasion was the principal acting person. A P-u'i-ian commissionaire never has any small o iange, like the coachman. This is a principle, *• ii *^ c triß k succeeds with many persons, especially strangers.

„ THE SPAHROW MAN. ♦h^LaS. are bri 3 ht > an d with the hundred tnousana other people we stroll along the boule-

vards, and have offered our arm to a lady relation. A lady is indispensable, or else the new knight of industry I am about to introduce could not succeed ; a man is too hard-hearted, and might laugh at him. The fellow comes close up to us, holding in his hand a small cage filled with sparrows and swallows, and says with a trembling voice as he points to the captives : " See, how cruel to imprison tho poor little creatures ! Be merciful, raadame ; they are only five cents a piece ; give one of them its liberty." A heart of stone would almost bo touched by this — how much more, then, a female heart ; hence, you choose a bird which, when set at liberty, flies to the nearest tree and twitters its thanks. The man pockets his money, bows politely, and then assails the next lady who arrives.

A CHKAP JACK.

Others have small tables on which they display their goods, stand behind them, and then invite passers-by to listen to thorn for a little moment. The talking is the main point, and many have attained such a pitch in their oratory that hundreds will stop to listen, not troubling themselves about what the chatterer has to sell, especially as he wanders to a thousand subjects which aro miles away from his trade articles. But this is right aud proper, and the more they patter the better the Parisian likes it. Many sellers keep their tables carefully covered so that nothing is visible, and then begin to talk about the discovery of America, of Napoleon the Great, and the politics of the day. Of course, you have not the remotest conception what he means by all this or what he has for sale ; at last he raises the cover, and produces either a new blacking paste or a small instrument to be used at once as toothpick, penholder, inkstand, and eraser, an.l only costing five cents, or so on. Still none of the crowd are ready to buy the thing, but this does not confuse our hero ; he distributes on all sides the flacon, or whatever it may be, and says : " You can pay me to-morrow, or when you are passing." At length there is a purchaser, and directly aftei ten, as no one wishes to be first At times it happens that the improvised dealer suddenly breaks off in his speech, seizes his table aud bolts with it, to the great surprise of hi-, hearers, who look after him, and of whom onh the initiated are aware of the true reason oi his hasty flight. A sergeant de ville has shown himself at the next corner, for whom all the street .sellers, who have no cares of licenses, entertain great respect, as he simply takes them by the collar and leads them to the prefecture, a proceeding which always ends badly. We see that the daily bread of these poor fellows is not lightly gained in Paris.

THE ARTIST,

Further on stands another man, also at a small table, but he has no cause to fear the police. He is an artist, as he says, recognised by the Government, and stands under the special protection of the Minister. His Excellency, he informs us, has repeatedly offered him a situation in the writing and reckoning schools, out he declined it in order to serve the public. At the same time he is a perfect artist with the pen ; with rapid, sure, and graceful lines he draws in a few seconds an eagle with outstretched wings, or a well-executed likeness of ,ome well-known public character. He then >ffers them to the spectators gratis, and merely r'or the honour of having his talenb recognised. \t tho same'time he sells steel pens, which aiv good and cheap, and honestly declares that his irt is based on the pens, which persons need only buy in order to ilraw and write like him. '' It only requires a little practice," he aiids, with :i knowing smile.

A colleague on the other side of the boulevard loudly offers a hundred francs to tho man who can mend broken china better than ho. A hundred francs — Heaven knows where he got them from, or if they are real — lie on his table beforo him, and attract not a few gamins. " I could," he relates, " have long ago have been a rich man if I would have sold tho secret of my composition to the Government. The director of the great porcelain factory at Sevres would tjive half his fortune for it ; but then my discovery would only benefit the few, while now it is common property," and so on. The bottle costs only a half-franc. He then feels in a heap of gay pieces of china, and very cleverly composes of the pieces of china a plate or a cup. which he strikes in order to prove the solidity of his composition, and finally assures us that tie once mended a broken gun-barrel, with which its owner still goes out shooting. Really more cannot be expected. Let us go into

THE CAFES

— that is to say, sit down outside in the shade of the awning, if a place is to be had. The large cafes on the boulevards are filled from eight o'clock in the morning till midnight or past. On the inner boulevards there are at least a hundred cafes, which all do a roaring brade. We have secured a table and a couple of chairs and survey the heaving mass, but have not been seated five minutes ere we are laid under contribution. The flower girls, of whom I here must be legions in Paris, are the first. When sent away they lay a small bouquet on blie table and go aside. The stranger or novice who is not up to the trick probably fakes up the bouquet ami smells it; at once the girl i-> back and asks for two sous. She will say quite boldly : " You have accepted it, and you must keep it, sir." What can you do, surrounded as you are by a hundred ladies aud gentlemen ? and in all public localities in Paris you must be very careful not to make yourself ridiculous. A man approaches our table with most lamentable gestures ; he is deaf and dumb. He hands us a small printed paper, on which we find the sign language of the deaf and dumb ; above it is the motto, " Have pity for a poor deaf and dumb." Although we are beginning to feel annoyed at being so incessantly pestered, still the woebegone face of the man in the midst of this merry rejoicing world moves us. We give the man two sous, bub he has hardly taken them ere a sergeant de ville seizes him rather roughly and leads him off, with the Avords, " Have 1 caught you again, you vagabond ? " We distinctly hear the deaf aud dumb man imploring to be let go this time, but the man in uniform is inexorable. Ere now fear has been known to restore speech, is the consolation we adopt for having been swindled. We light a second cigar, and naturally throw the glowing stump on the ground. But at the same instant an old man's greedy hand is stretched out to it, and he pats it in a bag. The cigar stump collectors are nearly all old people, who have selected this wretched trade as a last resource to keep them from starvation. For these poor fellows are huugry twice a day regularly, bub they aie satisfied if they gut something to eat once a day. But can it be believed that the cigar stump* form a considerable article of trade at the great Halle ? Yet such seems to be the case. The market gardeners imkrs out of them a fluid to kill the insects and grubs on the vegetables growing on the immense plain of St. Deuis, and the smokers of the capital supply the necessary material for the sprinkling.

DIVERS TRICKS.

A little boy is crying at the corner of a street — of course on one of the gratings of the sewers. The poor boy has evidently lost something ; in

a few seconds fifty curious people have gathered around him, aud we hear the sad story. His father, a h.irsh, severe man (it is often, too, a sick mother), has sent him to the baker's with a live-franc piece ; at the corner he was thrust off tho pavement by the crowd, fell, and lost the coin m his fall, which slipped through the grating, and was consequently hopelessly lost. Is nob this a sad story 't If the boy plays his part cleverly — if he howls and cries, and tears his hair, swears that he daro not venture home for fear of his father, who will beat him to death, or because his sick mother will now have nothing co eat, as it was her last money, he would soouer throw himself into the Seine, and so on — a compassionate gentleman gives him half a franc; others tollow the liberal example, and the lost money is thus easily rcuido up. The whole thing, however, is only a trick, in which two or three aro generally engaged, and a hundred sbeps further on the accomplice awaits the fortunate result. If, as at times will occur, the police interfere, the father himself comes up and confirms his son's statement ; but more often the unhappy boy bolts on the appearance of the sergeant de ville. The Parisians are well aware of these tricks, but this does not prevent them from being taken in again and again ; but foreigners are the principal persons on whose purses tho swindlers, grout and small, .speculate. Thus, some years ago, a man went from hotel to hotel in the Faubourg St. Honore, who knocked at every door aud begged for alms, "so that he could" bury his only son, who had died yesterday." Tho raau, though he wore a blouse, looked perfectly respectable and honest ; he wept bitter tears at the same time, described his son's illness and sufferings circumstantially, aud in conclusiou produced a sum of sixteen francs or so, which he had already collected, but he must have thirty, as the funeral cost that amount. This mau had been living on his son's burial about two years. With the nightfall other industrials are visible, who can only show in the evening. A man comes up and posts himself in the middle of the road, puts his nab cautiously and mysteriously on the ground, with a caudle by its side, aud then begins his pathetic address. His object is co attract public attention to what is hiddeu under the hat. " Never, so long as Paris has existed," he exclaims, " has any thing so cheap, so line, so remarkable been seen. The greatest •savants are not agreed as to tho solution of the marvel." The hat still remains at the same spot ; at times the orator prepares to raise it, out hesitates, and begins his speech afresh. This lasts a good quarter of an hour or longer, according to the impatience of tho hearers, who at leugbh throw him a couple of pennies so that he may raise his hat. What is then visible is naturally not worth the trouble ; a " gold " watch chain for five cents, small " gold " rings, with " real stones, for two cents, or something of the sort. Man}' go away annoyed and abuse the humbug, who probably has nob breakfasted yet, though it is nine o'clock at night. For the following trick two gamins are needed, but they are easily found. An elegant gentleman conies up, who is glad to get off the dirty macadam on to the clean trottoir. The gentleman steps daintily through the mud, but unluckily an ass of a gamin stumbles against his -.tick, which falls in the dirt. Another gamiu (the accomplice), however, runs up at once, picks the stick out of the dirt, wipes it clean, ,uul hands it to the gentleman, who is glad, at any rate, bo save his new gloves. This service is worth its penny. " Why do not the rascals work?" one may ask. Well, the truth is the Parisian gamin is a vagabond, aud if he worked liked other honest people, the French capibal would be poorer by one of its most interesting types. Besides, the gamins are not so very bad, ufter all, as they do not know what else to do, volunteer in their seventeenth year, and become capital food for powder.