GAY PARIS

Evening Star, Issue 19664, 17 September 1927, Page 22

GAY PARIS

A SUNDAY PICTURE. Just ns London seems to fall into a heavy slumber from dawn to dusk on a Sunday, a,slumber that spoils boredom for the people who are unable to join the ranks of “ week-enders,” who escape to the seaside or the country, so Paris seems to grow more vital, more brilliant, more full of joio do vivre on this so-called Day of Rest. Certainly on Sundays most people have been to one or other of the many attractive churches on both sides of the River Seine. But afterwards they leave all made ready to take part in some of the many entertainments staged for the day. Thousands of men and women have gone to a Rugby football match at Colombes to watch the teams from London and Paris play; thousands more will be found at a motor race, a cycle race, the fashionable horse race meeting at Longchamps, where the mannequins in full glory of new spring and summer fashions will rapture as much attention as the racing.

Three orchestral concerts are advertised lor the alternoon. At each one a, lam oils conductor will load his moil through a Jiecthoven programme given in honor of the centenary of the great composer; there is to be, a performance of grand opera at the Opera (Joiniqne; and at the Gomedic Franeaiso round about noon there was a long queue of men and women standing waiting for the doors to open for the performance of one of the t rench classics.

Then, apart from all these athletic and artistic entertainments, there are innumerable open air shows, which give much insight into the life of the people ol Laris, and provide an abundance of color.

Sunday markets in tin's city arc things of joy. London's Petticoat Lane provides an interesting study of typos, but that market does not seem so real a picture of a section of a big city's life as tiie Sunday morning market on Montparnasse. Dozens of shops arc open. The Luxembourg Dardens arc full of men, uomcn, and children, flic last-men-tioiicd gurgling with joy as they sail small boats on a large pond, or sib spellbound before a Lunch and Judy show. Lovers are silling in these gardens, totally oblivious of passers-by. Students arc here, books on knee and thoughts elsewhere, and painters galore. And. outside the garden walls another street market is in progress. This is in tho hands of artists, who for the time being have turned into salesmen. There is a .strong element of chance about this particular market, because most of the people who come along to inspect cherish a secret hope that they will “spot a winner,” which is to say, that they will bo able to buy for a small sum the work of an artist who may be struggling to-day, but who may be famous in the near future. For the student of city life there could he no more fascinating pageant than that which takes place on any Sunday in Laris. To sit outside any cafe is as inter-, esting as to watch any well-staged play; to go to the Bois is to look on while the people of Paris indulge in a glorified picnic; to sit in the Champs Ely sees is to be bewildered by the thousands of elegant motor cars making their way to Saint Cloud, Saiiri, Germain, Versailles, Longchamps,. and watching these motors also sends one's heart momentarily to the mouth. Never did cars whiz past at such breathless speed, and never did drivers manage to avert accidents in so dexterous a fashion.