CHAPTER III


Of all the spots on this fair, broad earth where the jaded globe
wanderer, surfeited with hackneyed sight-seeing, may sit in
perfect peace and watch the world go by, there is none more
fascinating nor one presenting a more brilliant panorama of
cosmopolitan life than that famous corner on the Paris boulevards,
formed by the angle of the Boulevard des Capucines and the Place
de l'Opéra. Here, on the "terrace" of the Café de la Paix, with
its white and gold façade and long French windows, and its
innumerable little marble-topped tables and rattan chairs, one may
sit for hours at the trifling expense of a few _sous_, undisturbed
even by the tip-seeking _garçon_, and, if one happens to be a
student of human nature, find keen enjoyment in observing the
world-types, representing every race and nationality under the
sun, that pass and re-pass in a steady, never ceasing, exhaustless
stream. The crowd surges to and fro, past the little tables,
occasionally toppling over a chair or two in the crush, moving up
or down the great boulevards, one procession going to the right,
in the direction of the Church of the Madeleine, the other to the
left heading toward the historic Bastille, both really going
nowhere in particular, but ambling gently and good humouredly
along enjoying the sights--and life!

Paris, queen of cities! Light-hearted, joyous, radiant Paris--the
playground of the nations, the Mecca of the pleasure-seekers, the
city beautiful! Paris--the siren, frankly immoral, always