PARIS AND LONDON, 1917.

Pukekohe & Waiuku Times, Volume 6, Issue 270, 27 April 1917, Page 4 (Supplement)

PARIS AND LONDON, 1917.

Great Transformation.

Women Run Empire's Capital

Wo reproduco herewith two in teresting art/cles from independent sources. Individually and in conjunct/on they throw bright light on the changes that have been wreaked 'n the characters of two groat natons as reflected iu their respective capitals. Tho one i.i written by a Frenchman in tho Morning Post, and the other by A Countryman in tb> Daily Express.

T HAVE been mixing for some t.me -®- past (says the Frenchman) with all sorts and conditions of people l>oth in public places nntf in private circles, and 1 Imvo come to the concln.Ton ttm the weight of suspense is hanging over Paris no longer. There s deeply seated in all sections of the community a confident feeling of coming victory which has caused Par s to resume the old habit, with its indefinable lightness born of wit, its laughing scepticism, its resoluto self-confidence. In a word, Paris has become something like herself again, externally at a,nv rate. You heard even the saddest in tho crowd bandying joke or Iwn mot of some sort together. As a matter of fact, to a casual oliserver tiie c tv might give the impression of being the Gay City 10div'va. The streets are quite busy, the restaurants and the terrasses of the cafes are crowded, and mourning has not by any means stopped fashion in its career. I was told at tho Printomps that they did a roaring trade last Summer, though it is only fair to add that sonio —if not most—of their customers were Englsli ladies. Tho crowds making daily in tlie;r thousands for tho Invr.lidos to seo not Napoleon's tomb, but the trophies won from the Boschcs in tho present war, seem to hav;o quite cast aside, for the nonce at least, all their sad thoughts and pre-oceupat : on. And if you happen to walk with if. Parisan up or down the Champs-Elysees, near the Arc do Triomphe, he will —with undisguised pnd» and defiance —point out to you the Astoria Hotel, the manager df which was arrested, he will say, and shot as a spy .it the beginu ng of tho war, and whero tho Kaiser was to have held his famous banquet on August 14 or 15, 1914 ! Tho Hotel Astoria has long been a military hospital.

THE HIDDEN FEELING

And yet, peering under tho surface of things, who could truly say that th s apparently gay, indifferent life of Paris is not artificial, and perhaps self-im-posed? Is not one somewhat deceived by the mere aspect of crowds that swarm in the cafes and of a Paris that has become the main thoroughfare leading from the provinces to tho front and back 2 After p.ll, signs of war aro not wanting: I counted three shops closed out of five in tho Rue do Turhgo, once so busy, and, standing at tho Concorde end of the Tu.V.leries Garden, there is tho exhibition of the Cit-3 reeonstruite, every day reminding its numerous visitors of the provinces where the enemy has destroyed thousiindu of homes that are to bo reconstructed as soon as tiie invader is ousted from the land.

Truly, if you only care to examine ■into your surroundings, you will see, jyftor your first impression is over, that tho Parisian does not require the constant passing to and fro of numberless poilus, with the r service or wound badges and the sight of the armless or legless wounded, to lie reminded of tlitwar. By tho way, 1 was interested to learn tb.it an inverted V on a French soldier's left arm implies u months service in the trenches, while an upright V )on hi; arm wains a wound. These V's are caKed*bisques. And I also notaced repeatedly that the one-legg«d French poilu is not so n'mblo with his crutches as tha British Tommy. Th's difference is probably due t.i tho fact that, thanks to his outdoor games and sport-, the Briton is naturally more active than the Frenchman. However this niaylie, the Parisians do not require to be reminded of the ever- present horror of the war by soldiers wounded or unwounded. And for olio long famil ar with the idiosyncrasy of Paris, there is no doubt that under the outward brilliancy that catches the eye tho real underlying thought of Paris is still the war.

LONDON RE-VISITED.

SOLDI EPS FIRST!

You see 't lat the very door of the theatre where the throng meets, when everyone turns respectfully a-side at the sight of a soldier in the queue. The motto is: Los so I date no font pase la queue.," and tho soldiers are gently pushed forward in front of the crowd. Xo doubt the comic films have tho'r turn ; but before entering the house you can seo tho crowd scrutinising the "map sold in Berlin" exhibited in tho hall, the map in which Great Briton, ha,j become a German co'ony and Franco reduced to her remotest southwestern Department, the Basses-Pyren-ees ! Once in tho house the applause of tho audience is cxc.ted not so much by the more or less droll antics of the funny men, as by rlie war films, and more especially bv a production called Los So'dats do plomb. Very ingenious and touching indeed, these leaden soldiers! A L. tt lo boy whoito father s an officer at tho front, has been prevented with a box of toy sold'ers by an old un.ie of bis tat!or, whe> teaches him what a reinforcement means. The father had saiel, ill his latest letter, that lie was go'ng t:> be semt with his men as a reinforcement. for a (Moult operation, after v. liich ho was, ff st'U alive, to e nie back on leive. !n bs dream th;> chiid sends his toy soldiers to ivinforoe his father, and lo! the toy sold ers are scon on the* «creen moving forward and winning the position, The< next morning i lie' lather arr.ves ami .s welcomed by hi; boy, who simply says: "Father, i knew vein bad heeui vetorious: 1 sent my M>ldiers to vour rescue!"

BIS AND 'ITBE

Ami how tlic iiud : ont << hursts oi;t into hravos and emotes when nnotli. r :!:arrcter 1 n the Kevtie, (ia.sp.ird. declaims hi, jrivit U rmie on t;ie M'r:ic'o of th.' Mrrn. ! (iaspard the very t\pe of til,. I*" rend I p:;ihi. :is cr\"-t -;l!' liy l{< lie Heniani'n in lis novel. Til',' '.!!((•! -•; of thai Iio::li —:: I e of th > I'.-st. produced I• v tli.i Hill' h.-is l>"en f.iii-!'. that (laspard could not • o«v!.!\ eve.>|' the notice of the revni-te. Indeed, lie makes I in c|»i';il; n Vei>o, end in heiiitilul t. rn«I«» ul;ieh r>":i!ls I h:\fc of I'hiinhoau 111 Ifostnlid's I/A'frh.n. he gives t > .ill i 111h11s<|11 • (vol! iohI«t) ih" rii'lit explanation of >\ h;it I>eep!e stupidly oil iiiTaile d" !;i .Miirni'. "A niir:i"lo indeisll" says he, p I 117 p" -ioil:lte speech (spice nnfortllllatelv 11 i 1 > i( I - (I not ,i t i in). "What iihonus, thru 2 Vghtlv nrMches .ml <•(• i'lll. >r-marelies, wounds. h.irilsh ps niiK ih.wh liero'e d'ods liv I he thousand! A miracle. ind 'ed. Your genius, O •T«ifVro!) A.ml -o he goes on en ,; l. n th •>

end, ho is loudly acclaimed for minutes on end by tho audience.

WHAT DOES ENGLAND THINK?

You cannot, you must not, bel:eve that Paris lias: not kept, is not keeping, the war in the forefront of its thoughts If you could only hear tho eager questici'o asked about England r« soon as it ■« known that the interlocutor has come ',ioin there! " What do they think of tho war in Englnnd? How long do they think the war will last? How right Kitchener was nlxiut the duration of the war! What do the English tlrnk of the French?" Question follows question without pause. And you. in turn naturally ask: "What do you think of the Englsli?" "Truly, they r.re doing splendid work now . . . The offensive on the Somme bids fa!r t> be the beginning of the end. . . Now that tho English are in earnest wo are sure to get them (the Boschcs, of course!) . . . Really, tho Engish have been extremely chic." And so on. As a matter of fact, as one of my numerous quost'oner* sad to mo, it is n retrospective shame to think, now that we •ire all arrayed against barbarism itsc!'i\ that there ever wero any difference-; between tho English and ourselves. If you happen to have friends in Paris whom you have not seen since tho war broke out, and call on them one afternoon, you may encounter a very painful oxper : eneo which will at once teach you a lot about the attitude of Paris nowadays. Such was my c.tso. I was on friendly terms with ?. Judge whoso country seat was in a village in the Department of Aisne, now in the hands of the Germans. As I wa3 anxious to know how lie and his family had boon n neo tho war I went to his Paris house, hoping to find him at home, as I knew the judges have had no holiday since tho war broke out. I asked the concierge whether Monsieur or Madame B. was in. "Why, nr," said she, "don't you know that M. B. has been j> prisoner in tho hands of the Germans since August, 1914?" "What? What do you mean?" And then camo tho story.

Tho declaration of war Ifound my friend, with his fam'ly (lria wife, his son, his daughter-in-law. and two grandchildren) at his country seat in Aisne. Tho son at once joined his regiment. A few days afterwards, as the Germans were rush ng through the North, M. B. decided that his wife should take the grandchildren awav from the danger zone. As for himself and h's daughter- n-law, they would stay for a *few days to put some valuables into a place of safety before the Huns arrived. Too late! The Germans camo tho following morning, and the family had never met again. Madame B. hoard of her husband through a third party during the first months that followed the invasion ; he had been commanded by the Germans to act as Mayor of his village. But she had not heard any direct news of him for over fourteen mcnths now; she had only heard quite recently that he had been taken a,s a hostage into Germany. As to tho daughter-'n-law, no news whatever r.bout her since the very beginning. To crown all, the son had been k-lied at Verdun some months before.

London under tho leaden skies of a dull January day has a quality of unattractivencKs that one need not fear to iind in tho country. At home wo dress lor tho bad weather and for tho muddy tracks that wo call roads out of politeness to the rural district council that mis-manages them. In London shooting boots or rubbers would be eyed askance, but for a thin-booted generation crossing sweepers had piled up to tho side of the pavement the mud and tilth that the snow had stirred and when tho lamps wero lit to emphasize the darkness and one attempted to cross the road and went 'in over the ankles, there was a sudden feeling that our rural district council must have established a war-time branch in the metropolis.

When I was last in London the woman who is in earnest was to l>o seen hero and there, but there seemed to be no sphere in which she had asserted lie'rseli:. Tho girl workers whom one saw at lunch timo or as they went to and from tho city were a frt vo'ous generation, still immersed in (heap fiction and finery, given to {giggle without duo cause. She was of quite another type, the good-look ng "bus conductress who I"rst attracted my attention and then mv sympathy, f.vr tho work in vile wc\jtb;r on an omnibus without eithor shelter eir a se'at s surely too severe even for war time.

The costume wa.s eiiiite adequate to tho needs, but it is ill sttind'ng for hours cn e i nd, and even the struggb for fares in a bus packed with humans much as lie it ng.s are packed in a barrel ii'ust cease to be stimulating after a while. On the I'nderground Railway a determined lady came along to put my hone-sty to a test that it survived, and in tho club tho wa'ters had become vaitresM's, and the change was not for the weufje. Tho newcomers i-ppoared to bo learning tho odd trick that nil club waiters po.»se>s of carrying the> dignity e i the hoii-o oil ih->r shoulders. The uniform is neat and becoming, and the secretary told me that the work i* we>!l eione, ane! that member* < f a (e-rta'n have* congratulated bin and expressed the ir gnvt content.

Humour hud. 11 that there are some women polie:< in the noghhonrhood of l.eieester--(|iiare. 1 only pas-rvl through ( ii. e. and then t '.e force was incurably masculine. So were the jan tors ont"d.> t!ie theatres .Mid t]ie drivers of t 1 V-(a. 1 s, hut not the drivr-iy* of many motor-lorry. private car. and other ( enveyani i": - they were girls and v.oiih ii, (inietly (onfidcnt amid the «• *»rn; of train:', niak'ng no ni'stakes. Oic< would ho glad to know that somewc'i:u i (vinin ttee of the kind c*,t,:h- ---! shed :i| the Ministry < f Munit.ons had 'it its iliarj.e I lie health of girls and woiP 'ii do'nj* work of this The -train cannot he h\rhf.

I?v i m (it the Inn- ef (Imi't, 'ji I'le' int. i)Hii .•■; with a "linio.se of plane Ire,s wo d pigeon- and grass plots, <r wh eh small naii h.es of snow were frv•'i-' t'l 1 oe;> elcin. the -oli- ilor I hn ! to roe S3*. ;it the receipt of custom. In tl'o ofihc by wlii'-h he is rpprtMidiod

PORTIA'S PART

! were lady clerks, n an outer office lady | typists copying documents that looked quito unnecessary n war time.

It b a good bus'ness, this of the lawyers; tho folio is 72 words, if my memory of old law student days bo reliable, and tho pr'ce, wh lo various, is always remunerative. "I think it likely," said tho lawyer gravely, "that we shall find Portia coming to her own after the war." Ho d d not appear to bo pleased by the prospect. At present I believe a woman may qualify as a lawyer, but may not practice. We are petting on . A man in tho club told me that women doctors can now take the degrees of tho Colleges of Surgeons and Physicians; before the war tho woman who holds t!ie leading medical degree of Great Brita'n, the M.D. of I/ondon, could net bo a Licentiate of the RoynS College of Physicians! It cumo less with a of surprise to srv? women in places to which they could not have fought their w«<y before tho war, than to realise tho change in tho typo of girl worker in the parts of I/ondon I knew best. A sober earnestness over every task, and such sm'los and whispers as I noted were apparently tho effect of some other cause thaji tho expression of mora self-con-sciousness. Ono does not know what trouble born of war has laid a restraining hand on mirth, though here and there deep mourning left small room for doubt, but it looked as though girlhood and womanhood had discovered their dignity in the stress nnd urgency of tho femes, and had altered, consciously o.- unconsciously, the whole aspect of the r service.

AT THE BAXK. Only one surprise awaited me, and that was in Lombard-street, in one of tho oldest establishments to be discovered there—a place of grave elderly men with whom I enjoy ta chat when raro occasion permits, 1 was thinking of other th'ngs than tho changes 'r. city lifo when 1 aoked for my passbook and tho very attractive young lady in charge explained that I must have it in my own possession—a perfectly true ul-agnosis of the case, as it proved. For many years, indeed, the old bank been tho home of business and bullion, but who, before these latter days scattered our conventions to all tho w nds of heaven, would have looked for beauty there? Aro they sensitivo, emotional, susceptible in the City of London? Is the pursuit of commerce in all its varied forms sufficient to keep the pulse at norma! heat? Perhaps to-day, yes: but in the pip ng times of peace? \\ hat a chance for the writers of romances, tho lovers of London. I am neither the one nor the other, but groping train wards that evening by way of city streets from which all activity had passed, tho cloud wrack parted and the mcon came to lend the darkness a little touch of radiance and mystery. Then 1 was conscious of something of tho romance of those dim wherein men spin the threads of commerce that unite China with Peru and London with far Cathay. And I thought of the great changes, tho passing of merry boys and determined men to the realms of life and death, and the silent invasion of I/Ondon by those whose presence will lighten dcrk corners and lend to the city a charm that is not its own.