A Versailles Christmas-Tide

find his own tongue spoken around him, and his conventions governing society. But let him leave London one night, cross the Channel at its narrowest-an

lance around the gorgeous state equipages, an unsatisfactory meal at one of the open-air cafés, and a scamper back to Paris. But our winter residence in the quaint old town revealed to us the exis

clocks have run down, as though they realised the futility of trying to keep pace with the rest of the world. The future m

f feverish hurry-scurry than do the conventions of reposeful Versailles. And these fiery chariots of modernity, with their ghoulish, fur-garbed, and hideously spectacled occupants, once their raucous, cigale-like birr-r-r has died away in the distance, leave infinitely less impression on t

er a period of bewilderment that it dawned upon us that the sepulchral garb and heavy crape veils reaching from head to heel were not necessarily the emblems of widowhood, but might signify some state of minor bereavement. In Britain a display of black such as is an everyday sight at Versailles is undreamt of, and one

only to cast it aside after a few months' wear, and that therefore the period of wearing the willow must be grea

r hotel proprietor, who had just told us that during the first

r all. For a husband, yes; for a father or mother, yes; for a

his belief that in refusing to mourn in the most lugubrious degre

, three years had been fortunate enough not to lose a parent, sister, brother, uncle, or aunt. A perfectly natural reaction appeared to urge the ci-devant mourners to robe themselves in lively checks and tartans. It was as though they said-"Here at last is o

alids we were almost certain to encounter a funeral procession either approaching or leaving Notre Dame. And on but rare occasions was the great central door undraped with the sepulchral insignia which proclaimed th

reverently uncovering and soldiers saluting as it passed-the dirge-like chant of the Miserere never failed to fill m

n seldom forgot to cast a warm glow over the gay, white-painted houses. And though the women's dress tends towards depression, the brilliant military uniforms make amends.

stout blue cotton and sabots are common. Sometimes velveteen trousers, whose original tint years of wear have toned to some exquisite shade of heliotrope, and a russet coat worn with a fur cap and red neckerchief, compose an effect that for harmonious colouring would be hard to beat. The female of his species, as is the case in all natural animals, is content to

amily raiment with a view to durability. Flimsy finery that the sun would fade, shoddy materials that a shower of rain would ruin, offer no temptations to her. When she expends a few sous on the cutting of her boy's hair, she has it cropped u

ys have the picturesque and almost indestructible bérets of cloth or corduroy. Cloth boots that will conveniently slip inside sabots for outdoor use are greatly in

case the bargain appeared astounding. One Sunday morning an enterprising huckster of gimcrack jewellery, venturing out from Paris, had set down his strong box on the verge of the market square, and, display

the larger proportion of the community reside in flats, which can be rented at sums that rise in accordance with the accommodation but are in all cases mod

urchase a bottle of vin de gard, a thin tipple, doubtless; but what kind of claret could one buy for fourpence a

e scrap of tripe, the slice of garlic sausage, the tiny cut of beef for the ragout, cannot be heavy items. Everything eatable is util

tivity that lasts for several hours. Long before dawn, the roads leading townwards are busy with all manner of vehicles, from the great waggon drawn by four white horses drive

m, sit the saleswomen, their heads swathed in gay cotton kerchiefs, and the ground before them temptingly spread with little heaps of corn salad, of chicory, and of yellow endive placed in adorable contrast to the scarlet carrots, blood-red beetroot, pinky-fawn onions, and glorio

ket laden. From stall to stall Madame passes, buying a roll of creamy butter wrapped in fresh leaves here, a fowl ther

or the strong arms of the squat little maid, by buying a mess of cooked spinach from the pretty girl whose red hood makes a happy spot of colour among

waxed moustaches, who looks a general at least, and is probably a tram-car conductor, bears his bunch of turnips with an air that dignifies the office, just as the young sub-lieutenant in the light blue cloak and red cap and trousers carries his mother's apples and lettuces without a thought of shame. And it is easy to guess the nature of the déje?ner of this sim

ck of lavender or brown bandboxes strapped in a cardboard Tower of Pisa on his back, he parades along, his wares finding re

he jotting, busy with his customers, was all unconscious; but an old crone who sat, her feet resting on a tiny charcoal stove, amidst a circle of decadent greens, detecting the Artist's action, became excited, and after eyeing him uneasily for a moment, confided her suspicions as to his ulterior motive to a round-faced young countryman who retailed flowers close by. He, recognising us as customers-even then we were laden with his violets and mimosa-merely smile

ave carried the heavy baskets home, and are busy preparing lunch. At eleven o'clock the sharp boy whose stock-in-trade consisted of three trays of snails

hose assistant dexterously cuts the peeled tubers into strips, is fully occupied in draining the crisp golden shreds from the boiling fat an

he unsold remainder of the goods disposed of; the worthy country folks, their pockets heavy with sous, are well on their journe