PEEPS OF FRANCE.

Otago Witness, Issue 3869, 8 May 1928, Page 78

PEEPS OF FRANCE.

(Special for. the Otago Witness.} These articles, from the pen of a New Zealand girl, who has gone to France to complete her cducation, have been specially written for my Little Folk. We hope that after reading them, you will have a new idea of a country which, to many of you, is known only as another place to be learned about in a rr eo rr ranhv lesson.—DOT. ° ; XIV. Mes Petites,—Cannes has returned once more to its usual habits of blue skies and sunshine, and the “ White Riviera ” has become a thing of the past. The poor gardens are still feeling the after-effects of the snow, but boating and tennis are in full swing, and the south bids fair to be very gay for the rest of the season. Nice, about an hour’s run from here by train, is even more gay than Cannes —very much bigger, with a magnificent sea front and Croisctte, and a very fine casino. Of course you know what a casino is? It is one of the places of amusement both, at Nice and Cannes, also at Paris and in all French towns to which trippers and holiday-makers go. At the casino all the lightest forms of entertainment take place—for example, musical revues, operettas, exhibitions of dancing, and so on. At Nice the casino is built right on the beach, with the main part of it actually standing in the sea. Inside it is light and airy, and very spacious, with large dancing floor surrounded by little tables and chairs, something in the style of a cabaret, only bigger, and at one end of the hall is a stage, with a space set apart, ol course, for the orchestra. The

roof is made largely of glass, and from the outside the big dome looks very beautiful with its bright colours reflected in the light of the setting sun. , At night, with the lights twinkling round the bay, and the moon shining over the water, the whole scene is even more lovely, and, indeed, it would be difficult to find a more beautiful part of the “Cote d’Azur” than this lovely spot—Nice, and Monaco not many miles further on.

Here in Nice, too, as in most French towns, great and small, is a “ Musee ” or local museum. The French take ’a great pride in their museums and collections of. curios and antiques, and some specially interesting things are to be found at Nice —among them, old peasant costumes, .worn up to fairly recent times by the villagers in the country round about. The costumes are very picturesque, with wide, full skirts, closely-fit-ting velvet bodices, lace caps with drooping edges, and shawls fastened generally in front with a big brooch or clasp. At a fancy dress party to which I went recently, a tiny French toddler of four or thereabouts came dressed as a little Provencal peasant in a costume of the above description—and very sweet she looked too.

After exploring the museum, we wandered along the seashore, turned up a side street, and went to look at the cathedral, after which we prowled about some of the old streets near by—so quaint and picturesque, with their tiny pavements, dear little shops, and rough cobblestones.

In the more modern parts of the town the houses are built for the most part in villa style, with shutters over the windows and narrow balconies—while many of the villas are surrounded by big gardens, with firs and palms, green lawns, and sheltering pine plantations. The shops, cf course, are very beautiful—English and French for the most part, with a sprinkling of little American stores as well.

A fair was in progress in one of the market squares, and everything was very lively. There were merry-go-rounds, swings, switchback railways, and stalls of all kinds, with a band playing, and throngs of excited children everywhere. The French are very ligfft-hearted folk, and young and old enter into all forms of amusement with a will. They consider our way of keeping Sunday very quiet, for all their cinema theatres, operas, and racecourses remain open to the public on Sunday just the same as on any weekday, and Sunday fairs, or “ foires,” as they are called, are a regular institution, and most entertaining, too, I can assure you. If you ever travel in the French Riviera, you should certainly visit Nice. Yours, Jeanne. COSY CORNER CLUB AND OLD WRITERS. Dear Old Writers, —The following letter has come to me from Elaine of the Cosy Corner Club. I give it to you as it was sent to me, and hope that some of you will feel disposed to do as Elaine asks.—Your friend, DOT. Dear Dot, —I have been reading the letters sent to you by your Little Folk, and have come to the conclusion that you are a very fortunate person indeed to have such a large and loyal following. But what happens to your contributors when they become 21 years of age? 1 know that they send you an Old Writer’s letter once a year, but what happens in the meantime? I wonder if some of them would write to me, and help to swell the ranks of members of my Cosy Corner Club. The programme, which will be found in the Ladies’ Page, is attractive and it would only mean one letter a month for six months of the year. Do you think they would? It would be very gratifying to me to have some of your ex-Little Folk in the club—any who are no longer children and are interested in the programme I have prepared. Hoping that this appeal will meet with a response.—l am, dear Dot, ELAINE, of the Cosy Corner Club.