THE COU-it.
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economy and with thriftincss enough
to apply that knowledge, lire little
above the eighteen-cent a day limit
per person, for actual food cost. I
had always lived economically, but
when asked to test in a practical way
the experiments of the government
food experts I hartfly thought the
allowance would be sufficient. We
have lived in about our ordinary way,
aiming at variety a little more than
usual, perhaps, but in keeping close
account I have seen the figures go
down to an average of fifteen cents a
day for each member of the family."
If that man who makes two blades
of grass grow were only one had grown
before, is a benefactor, commendation
and recognition is due her who pro
vides delicious and healthful food for
four persons J at sixty-five cents a day.
When the cost of living may be re
duced without affecting the quantity
or quality there is bo mucli more to be
set aside for a rainy day, for travel,
for education, for music, and the vari
ous intellectual luxuries the absence
of which shortens the distance be
tween animal life and human.
J
AN APRIL JOKE.
Some little cloud children 'way up m the
ky,
Were daadag together in play!
Said oae to tie others: "Oh, come, let o
try
Aad loot the earth-children today,
Wc will call oa the wind; I am sure at the
wont,
He will help us remind them 'tk April the
finL"
Then a dear kttle cloud said, "I know what
to do,
kwaheh-tthejollitfun.
We wg all nestle clearly together near you
Okaarriag delight of the sun.
I ace the earth' children already at play,
They think thay are sore of a warm pleas
ant day.
Then moaning and sobbing and crying in
rain
Some of us swiftly must go,
Aad alter a time, when the sun shines
again,
Why others may follow in snow.
The last must fafl down as cold icy haiL
B the waad will but help us our joke cannot
fcfl."
H the little earth's children just knew that
the sun
as hidden by cloudsm their play,
That the tarn, and the hail and tfae snow
hat for fun
Had pound aad had petted and frolicked all
day
I think they would feel very foolish, aad so
I venture to tell them aow they all know!
Kary Day Harris.
PARIS LETThR.
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It is early io the momiog yet the art
student has before this taken his easel
and hunk of bread to the bit of cloister
which is all that is left of the old mon
astery once a palace and now a museum.
Herds of little children are led here
every day to be taught many pages of
their country's history. Other students
from the Sorbonoo saunter here and
joke among the broughtfrom-every-wbere
relics. The Provencal comes to
Paris too at this season (spring) with his
bride. They have just passed V trot's
down on the street de )a Paix.
His spring flower garden has ex
hausted tbeir vocabulary of beau, chic,
raviaeaot, exquis. Her millinery heart
strings are torn because maman bought
her wedding hat at the Bon Marche and
he pulls her gently away from the win
dow saying: " Voyons, voyonB, ma cherie
viens done, viens.'
She soon regains her spirits in that
happy, spring-intozirated crowd. They
wonder through the Tuiieries gardens
along the Seine by the old book stalls
until they come to the Pont Neuf. He
stops and bujB her a bunch of violets
from an old flower women and ae he
gives her an extra sou the staunch ven
der ardently crosses herself murmuring:
"Dieu te nit les nouveaux maries." They
wander on past the great fouutain of
Saint Michel, and as they mount the
long boulevard ehe keeps very close to
her husband. Here they are in the
student's quarter that ehadowy spot
where he bad often dined. They pass
two professors whose lectures he had
followed. In this cafe "quel bon dine
"Oh, the good old days!" ''Not equal
though to these ma cherie,'' he eajs.
suddenly looking down at his bride. But
here is my old cafe and my old waiter
Jacques, who saye, "No, indeed, we have
not forgotten M. Marion.' The shrewd
carcon knows that the presence of
madame means more than a sou for him.
"What would madame like?" he asks
eagerly.
Monsieur Marion orders her a syrop
with bkcuits and cakes. While madam
is sipping her syrop and monsieur is
chatting with Jacques of the "old days"
she sees across the way an imposing old
wall and a bit of gai den inclosed by a
tall iron railing.
It is the Thermes of the old Musee de
Cluny. Our friends think of going in
here, but the comfortable benches and
bronze cupids of the Luxembourg gar
den seem more attractive to their second
day's honeymoon. In spite of their de
cision I am going to ask you to come
with me to the Thermes and the old
Hotel de Cluny. These old baths were
probably built in the latter part of the
second century by Constantino Chlore,
Constantino's father. They were un
doubtedly part of a magnificent palace
with extensive gardens winding along
the Seine. It was here that Julian
lived for a time and was crowned by his
troops in 360. Valerius and Valens also
passed some months in the palace. It is
the only remnant of Soman building left
in Parir. Then came shortly the bar
barian invasions and this Caesar's castle
became in tiae the dwelling place of the
Frankkh king until they transferred
their abode ti the isle known as the Cite.
After this the estate went from hand to
hand until in 1310 it waa bought by a
Cluny monk. Very little ot that won
derful old place was then left; little but
what exists today with the exception of
the gardens. Upon the remaining frag
ments the Abbe Jean de Bourbon built
the Hotel de Cluny which even today is
one of the most beautiful spots in all
Paris and perhaps in France. It re
mained in the hands of the monks, who
offered it frequently to the kings of
France as a guest house for visiting
royalty until a century ago. Then the
great revolution confiscated it, as it did
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nearly ali church property. Its fate
until 1813 was somewhat dubious, when
it was bought from M. du Somerard by
the government and converted into a
museum. -
I cannot tell you how great is the
charm of this building with its splendid
old fire-places, its magnificent oak ceil
ings, and its treasure houses ot antiqui
ties. Especially the additional charm
in the spring time when the chestnut
trees are in bloom and the irj that
spreads over its walls takes on a fresher
hue.
You can certainly satisfy your pet
hobby here unless it be of a scientific
nature. If you have a fondness for old
china there is a roy&l collection ot old
Rouen, a fair amount of Delft and woa
drous glass. If you have an inclination
for old laces and embroideries "vous y
etee." Old ivory too, so finely carved
that your eyes fairly ache at the sight of
it Knockers such a collection You
can think to your heart's content how
Buch and such a one would look on your
front door. And keys! Such mighty
affairs, but with designs that would at
tract even a WhiBtler or a Monvel.
I do not wonder that the widow of
Louis XII. a sister to Henry VIII, chose
the Cluny as the abode of her widow
hood. Her room looks out onto that
ivy-wound garden and is still called "La
Chambre de la Reine Blanche" because
the French queens had the happy cus
tom ot wearing white for their mourn
ing. From her room opens a small
Gothic chapel whose very atmosphere is
religious, so holy is its architecture
From the chapel a winding staircase
leads to the garden. Standing here when
the wind is blowing it has often seemed
to me that I heard the rattling of soma
old monk's rosary on his way to say ma
for "La Reine Blanche,' or even the
approaching of Francois retinue on the
way to do homage to her.
James V of Seottland was married
here te Madeline and many more royal
personages have staid here. The Cluny
has well withstood th.3 vicissitudes ot
fortune. In the revolution this aristo
cratic dwelling place of kings and their
kin became the meeting place of repub
licans, then a dissecting room and finally
a printing office, until an antiquarian
purchased it for his treasures. At his
death the government awoke to its value
and made it a national museum. This
old building, with its hosts of souvenirs
is veritably sacred in the annals ot
French history.
Nele Dowrah.
Van Clove Miss Peachblow is as
beautiful as as
Icbabod As what?
Van Clove Well, as her own photograph!
MSMMMIMII
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