Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 129, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 June 1915 — THESE IRON TIMES LAY BARE THE SOUL OF THE PARISIAN PEOPLE [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THESE IRON TIMES LAY BARE THE SOUL OF THE PARISIAN PEOPLE

Now the Mask of Frivolity Is Off and One Sees the Solemn and Perhaps Severe Intention of the Men, Women and Children of the Republic—France Leads the World in Honoring Its Flag—Gayest Capital of Europe Seen in War Time.

By EDWARD B. CLARK.

Staff Correspondent of the Western Newspaper Union. j Paris.—When I left the United States a Frenchman of wide fame told

me that when I reached Paris I would see the real soul of the people. Only last August Paris was hemmed in by war. Today while the .toe has his gaze on the capital of the republic he looks on it over leagues of land multiplied visibly in number since the day when Von K 1 uck ’ s right swept by the outz er fringe of forts to the Grand Morin and there met the soldiers of France who.

makinf a .stand and then assuYning the offensive, drove the German lines back slowly and in fair order, but nevertheless in retreat. It is the iron times which have laid bare the soul of the Parisian people. Like other Americans I had thought of Paris as being a place largely of glitter and gayety. Paris in its lighter moods perhaps approaches the frivolous, but now what was a mask is off and one sees the solemn and perhaps severe intention of these men, women and children of the republic. The real seriousness of the nature of Paris and Paris is typical of France —is in evidence befoiw the jury of the world. Paris, colorful Paris, today is robed in black. The setting of all the street scenes is somber. The footlights are turned low. Paris works, goes about its daily routine as if its strong men Still were, within its borders, and it does it apparently with as high a heart as it carried in the day of peace.

Sits in Semidarkness. Like London, Paris sits at night in semidarkness. The army of France guards the frontier and the inner line to which its foes have pierced. Paris Itself is guarded by its reserves of troops, men far beyond boyhood, and , by its vigilant watchmen of the night ' who make their rounds in swift and steady flight over home of poor and rich. I have just looked on a review of several regiments of the reserve guard of Paris. The place chosen for the marching by of the troops was the Esplanade des Invalides, the great parklike plain outlying the huge structure of the Invalides built by Louis le Grand as a home for the aged and the permanently disabled soldiers of his monarchy. Since that day France has been a monarchy, empire and republic, but the Invalides still stands and still shelters the defenders of the land. There were many thousands of the guards of Paris in the review. The younger men are all at the front, but these men of the home guard have not passed the years of'hard service, even if time has touched their hair with white. They are sturdy-looking soldiers, and many of them show in the erectness of their carriage and their peculiar and unmistakably military stride, that they have not forgotten the training in camp or in field, In France, Algeria or Morocco, when, as youths of nineteen, they entered their country’s service.

. Proud of It* Defender*. The Parisian is proud of his defenders. It would be nearer the truth today perhaps to say that the Parislenne is proud of her defenders, for Paris today largely is a city of women, although one must not forget the children. In England soldiers march through the Strand and down through Piccadilly on their everlasting way to Tipperary, for so the bands proclaim the line of march. But in England the troops pass through lines of seemingly apathetic onlookers, giving no cheer and on inspiriting or commending" word. Of course, Englishmen feel, but they do not show their feelings. In Paris, how different it is! Today, with the shadow of war over it, Paris, as has been said, is serious, but the sight of marching, uniformed Frenchmen and the sound of music bring Paris out of its solemnity. It cheers and “God speeds” ltd defenders. Another thing Paris does, a thing almost unknown in England and America. When the colors of a regiment pass the onlooking throng, the head of every man and boy is bared, and every maw and child does honor to the Sue ' Soldiers of all lands salute the passing colors, and in Germany, in Austria and in Russia I understand that the civilians do likewise. France, however, I believe leads the world in civilian honor to the emblem* of government and it* regiments. Paris has been visited on several occasions by the aeroplanes and Zeppelins of its present enemy country. - '-rhe Parisian ha* taken these call* with a certain appearance of iadiffer-

ence Which seemingly at times amounts to a high disdain. Actually, I believe from what I have seen on the streets here, the Parisian is rather disappointed when-an alarm of the approach of hostile aircraft turns out to be false.

Watch foe Aeroplanes. It is interesting to an intense degree to watch the evening promenaders view the skies. A light is seen far off toward the horizon line. It approaches rapidly and speculation immediately begins as to whether or not the oncomer is friend or foe. In a minute or less the whir of the machinery of the airship is heard and the Parisian whose eyes have not been vigilant gets the news by way of his ears, and then every face in the Grande Boulevard is upturned. »

Last night two aeroplanes whirled directly over the heart of the city. They were flying low, and Paris was quite certain that some German taubes were coming to call. The visitors, however, proved to be French airships which had varied from their usual lines of air march and were bisecting the city instead of drawing its circumference. There are many guardian aeroplanes in Paris and about it. I am convinced that the Parisians today feel certain that their air defense is perfect, and that if a fleet of enemy ships should come sailing over, on destruction bent, it would be routed if not destroyed. I also have a feeling that Paris would like to witness just such an engagement. It is apparent unless signs and symptoms are utterly deceiving, that Paris looks up nightly not through fear but through a sort of hopeful expectation. Last night after the friendly aero-

planes had cut the city in two several times, they retired seemingly for the night. Nearly all Paris gobs to bed very early these days. I first fell into this Parisian custom last night. I had not gone to sleep, before a tremendous whirring made me leave bed for floor and make rapid progress to the window.

Pari* I* Ever Alert An airsihp with a brilliant searchlight was churning madly about just above the roof on the opposite side of the narrow street Quick as I was in getting to the window, the Parisians, men, women and children who live in the many apartments in the sevenstory buildings opposite, were at their windows before I reached liny outlook post Paris is alert, and while it goes to bed early and goes to sleep, I suppose quickly, it has an ear open for sky sounds and it obeys instantly the first noisy summons. The aeroplane, which was just over the roof last night, was a friendly one. Its searchlight was brilliant, its concentrated rays picking out every speck in the atmosphere as they swept rapidly through vertical and horizontal planes. The ship had come lower than usual, and its noise just above my roof was thunderous. No one knows just when he will be summoned to his midnight window to learn that the clamoring visitor without is bent on something other than the preservation of the peace of Paris. However, the Parisian seems to like his almost nightly excitement, and there are no lihes on the faces in the streets the next day to show that fear and anxiety have been using their knives to cut furrows. I came to Paris direct from London. Friends in America and in England had said that the passage of the channel was dangerous. I had been told on leaving the United States that there was a good chance the ship of passage would be sunk by a submarine before Liverpool was sighted.

No Enemy In Sight.

There was more perturbation among the friends of the passengers on shore than there was among the passenger*. The boat which brought ine to Boulogne from Folkestone went at a terrific pace. The channel pa*-

sage almost always is disagreeable, but on the day that I came over it was the reverse Of disagreeable, and as far as the eye could determine, it was the reverse of dangerous, but the eye cannot see into the depths. At any rate, no vessel was seen which sails under, on. or over the seas ard which would have been bent on the destruction of a boat flying the English flag and carrying some soldiers among its passengers. One could hardly get a thrill from thinking of danger on such a beautiful day. The channel was almost glassy In Its look. One channel boat has made one passage at least on which no traveler had so much as a hint of seasickness. Boulogne today Is held largely by the British. It is a hospital base for the English wounded. Last year, just as the war was breaking out, the French people of Boulogne were fearful that England would content itself with fighting on the sea and would not send troops to help France. There was great anxiety in Boulogne, and there was whispering that the English government would not do its utmost, and that its soldiers were to stay at home. Then one morning a change came over.-Boulogne. English transports bearing troops were seen coming out of the channel haze. Boulogne, fisherfolk and merchant folk, went mad with Joy. “Les Anglaise!’’ was the cry. It is probable that soldiers never in the world before, except when relieving some beleaguered pity, had so warm a welcome.

See Soldiers Everywhere. From Boulogne to Paris the railroad runs south and southeast. of the road runs through country which the Germans penetrated last August. There are a few traces only of their temporary occupation. The French themselves, however, in order to impede the foe, had destroyed some bridges, and these today are only just about again ready for use. The train in which I traveled passed through Amiens, where it was within considerably less than thirty ifalles of the present firing line. Peronne, which is only a little way over plain and hill from Amiens, is today in possession of the German forces. A few hours after I had left Amiens a German aeroplane sailed over the place and dropped bombs. All along the line from .Boulogne to Paris one sees soldiers. There are

engineer troops and others engaged in the work of railroad guarding, and in some cases of railroad maintenance. It is a constant moving picture of wartime color. In the fields of France the women, the children and the old men are at the nurture of the crops. Their task is just as vital to the well-being of any country as is the hard duty of the men at the front Into Paris I come at dusk. Many of the street lamps are out, the shades are drawn at the windows and the great French capital is shrouded and almost silent. War even today is not far removed from the city’s walls.

Edward B. Clark.

Barricades Built to Keep Germans Out of Paris.