Some Odd Trades That Surprise the Globe Trotter.

Tuapeka Times, Volume XXIV, Issue 1888, 16 April 1892, Page 2 (Supplement)

Some Odd Trades That Surprise the Globe Trotter.

Paris a Childless City— Where the Nurse Maids Come From— A Painter of Turkeys' Legs— Ant Farmers— dealers in Second-Hand, Bread.

This gay city is a mine of queer trades, Boenes and incidents. Tho globe trotter's eves bulge out and his hair stands on end ag he noses about in the out of the way nooks and corners of the great city. One of the first things that call forth exclamations of surprise is that Paris is childless. Tou nee bonnet in dainty caps and aprons trundling the offspring of the wealthy, but in the lower sections of the city among the bourgeois, the little ones are not numerous. The tradesman who has his shop on th« ground floor and his sleeping r rooms on the fourth or fifth story could not keep his children without losing the services of his wife, whom he wants to help him in his business. If he kept children his wife would be obliged to live upstairs, so he sendsout his Jabies to nurse as soon as they are born, with the intention of letting them remain in the country until they are five or sis years old ; and the ouvricr, who has generally but one garret room up a dozen flights of stairs, does the same thing. The result of this is that more than fifty per cent, of the children born in Paris die in the baby farmers' hands before reaching tneir second year.

It may interest the reader to know that the hundreds of nurse-girls one Bees in the open spaces in the gardens of the Palais Rival, the different squares and the Champs Elyisees arc invariably country girls, never Pansiennca The bon/ics, with nuat dresses, snow-whue lr.ee caps, and long streamers down the back, mostly come from the north of France. The girls with large black bows on their heads are from Alsace, and the fantastically dressed damsels with bright green bcdicc3, beads and short velvet skirts generally hail from Brittany. They are seldom prcttv, though blight and fresh looking. Hoise flpsh is stili eaten by the Parisians, much as euch a statement may horrify my readers across the sea. At least a thousand hoiscs are killed hero every year to supply this meat to the capital. About thirty shops sell nothing but horse, mule and donkey's flesh. Many of them have o?er their doors, boucherie /itppiqm, and do a rushing trade amongst the working population who have no foolish scruples about eating portions of what is certainly the cleanest of animals. It ia no secret that the ni.-ij >r part of the "beef steaka" at the restaurant? as well as ninetenths of the sausages come from defunct gee-gees. The thin flattened sausages from the north of France are made from horseflesh, and the Lyons sausages from the meat of the docile donkey.

While on this subject it may be worth while to add that the animals killed yearly in the Paris slaughter houses include gome 250 000 oxen, CO 000 cows, 250,000 calves, 2,000.000 sheep, 250.000 p : gs and 8,000 horses, and it is calculated that these yield over 400,000,000 pounds of batchers' meat.

There are many queer trades in Paris. One of the oddest is that of " painter of turkeys' legs." This artist is known only to the poultry dealing fraternity, and is a highly useful member of the community. By his artistic skill he enables tho trader to palm off a bird of patriarchal age, with a certain vague romance as to the date of its dec ase, upon a misguided house, or even upon an experienced buyer, who has learned to judge a turkey aftf j r the manner of cookM-y-book writers. Turkeys when freshly killed Have shiny b ack legs and claws, but a 9 the Hay of their death becomes more or lesi a mitter of ancient history, their lower extremities assume a slaty, dingy gray color. Old turkeys, too, have long claws and homy looking beaks, which the ingenious artist pares acd varnishes. The artist goes round to his customers three or four times a week, paints the feet of the birds with his solution (which was sold as a trade secret to the present owner for £40), carefully pares the nails and beak, and there you have a turkey that will fetch half as much again. It ia only during the desperate struggle with the ancient beast that ensues at dinner time that you realise how fraudulent are its pretentions to juvenility.

"Ant farmers," though only numbering half a dozen or so in Paris, are by no means to be overlooked in our study of odd trades,. We take one, for instance, who rejoices in the name of Mile. Blanche. Sh3 is not prepossessing in appearance. Her skin look* like dried pippins, and is tanned like croco. dile hide. She has leather gauntlets and trousers, a regular coat of armor, but notwithstanding this she is gnawed and bitten by her ungrateful stock to such an extent that she is perfectly hideous. She sleeps in the middle of the sack of ants, and her epidermis has become so insensible to the bites of those insects that she slumbers soundly and sweetly while hundreds of them are endeavoring to extract a meal from her thick skin. She was some time ago compelled to remove her quarters to a spot just outside Paris, because the neighbors not unreasonably objected to the stray members of he? farm skirmishing on their own account in the pantries of the adjoining houses. Mile. Blanche supplies breeders and keepers of pheasants, the zoological gardens, aquariums find large bird dealers with ants' eggs, and receives neverless than ten large flour sacks of ants a day from Germany and elsewhere. By keeping them in a great heat and feeding them well they are induoed to lay a vast quantity of eggs. It is interesting to record that Mile Blanche is by this time possessed of a handsome fortune.

Dealers in " second-hand bread " are nu» merous. It is collected by rag- pickers from ash barrels. The dirty pieces are placed on one side, for sale to rabbit and poultry dealers, dog fanciers, and others, and fetch three pence a basketful. On the other side are the cl<^an pieces of bread. These are baked, rasped, and sold to the ham dressers, hotels and similar establishment for powdering hams, etc., stuffing, pudding and like culinary operations. They also cut the bread into piec;s as big as dice, bake and sell them in small packets for putting into soup.

" Cat-killers" are not numerous, but the few who monopolise the trade make a great deal cf money out of it. They walk through Paris about midnight with a sack and^a couple of terriers, and when they catch sight of astray puss eft go the dogs, who seldom return to th< ir master without their prize. Their skins arc sold to furriers, and their flesh to the keepers of eating-houses in the suburbs, where "rabbit stew" is a favorite dish. But for stewed rabbit one likes to be satisfied that a bunny has been sacrificed, so the workmen who delight in this dainty require to see a rabbit's head as a proof of the bona fules of the dish. Tuisi would puzzle an ordinary individual, but the "cat-killer " ia a genius and a Frenchman, and is not so easily disposed of. He also deals in rabbit skins, and has an arrangement with the cooks in the neighbor* hood tq let. hjm have the heads, at the same time as the skins of the rabbits, for hig penny qr two. By this ingenious method he, is enabled to send out to his customers two or three cats' bodies minus the tails with each rabbit's head, and one more dainty dish is added to the Parisian meuu, and eight or ten shillings to the well-filied purse of the exterminator of the feline race. The French capital harbors the largest number of cats of any city in the world in proportion to its size, Whole colonies of them are to be found in the vicinity of the markets, where they feed on broken victuals and make incessgnfc war on the rats, -

If you want to see the alararniest of slums visit the Rue Sainte Marguerite, which runs from the Uuedu Faubounr Saint Antoine to the Rue de Charonne. You will there find a large shanty frequented cLiefly by the lowest stratum of rag-pickers. You can there get a cup of coffee with brandy for a penny. You will find many such slums on all sides of Paris as you leave the centre and near the fortifications, but most of therii are in proximity to the exterior boulevardn, which run concentric with t'je fashionable ones. At ten minutes' walk from the Jardm des Plantes, behind the Orleans railway station, you have the villa des Chiffoniers, or Bag-pickers' villa, resembling a collection of big rabbit hutches, which, however, are inhabited by human bcin»s. It is a city within a city, but no more like Paris than Pekin is like New York. It is the metropolis of misery in the capital of luxury. Yet all the people there are honest and hard working, each one being owner of his own hutch or cabin. The walls are built of all sorfs of rubbish, and the roofs are formed of old sardine box e s,old tin cans of all kinds and castaway sheet iron. The place is not being rapidly improved off the surface oi Paris.

The worst of all the slums is the centre of Paris was lately demolished ; the famous Quartier Maubert, on the Boulevard St. Germain, opposite the College de France. Its mosfc curious feature waa the horrid den kept by Le Pere Lunette, and called the 11 Lapin Blanc," or White Rabbit. It was not far from the Palais de Justice, so was a natural resort for criminals of all sorts as well as for the honest poor. The market for cigar and cigarette ends, and thrown away tobacco, is still held these on the open Bpace,