Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 197, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 August 1918 — PESSIMIST IN PARIS IS ‘SIREN’ [ARTICLE]

PESSIMIST IN PARIS IS ‘SIREN’

Gloomy Ones Are Named for the Unwelcome Air Raid Signal. OPTIMIST IS A “BERLOQUE” People Have Joyous Time While Walting In Subway Stations—Crap Game Holds Interest of the Crowd.

Paris. —Two more words have been added to that very growing dictionary of war words. In Paris these two Words have achieved a new significance. Pessimists are now known as “sirens” and optimists are “berloques.” The significance is . self-explanatory to those who have experienced an air raid in Paris. Many dread the screeching, weird, bansheelike wail of the alarm giving siren more than the actual danger from the raiders, while the “berloque,” that lively little bugle call telling that all danger is past and that one may rest safely in one’s bed. is indeed a friend welcome as any optimist.

A Paris bookkeeper who suddenly left the city when the raids over the capital became too frequent and went to Nantes has been sued by his employer for S6O damage for leaving without notice. The case, not the only one of its kind in the French courts today, is attracting attention. The bookkeeper’s explanation was that his nerves were upset by the bombs and shells and that he thought himself justified in getting out of danger. The court held that a bombardment by airplanes and long-range guns could not be considered a sufficient reason for the breach of contract and gave judgment for the amount named.

The darkened streets of Paris have caused many persons to roam around town after returning from the theater or a visit because of the difficulty in finding the streets find house numbers. An attempt to Improve this condition is to be made soon by placing luminous numbers traced in little buttonlike mirrors which reflect and magnify the smallest glimmer of light on the houses of the city. One would think upon descending to one of the large and centrally located underground railway stations which are used as shelters that a soiree was in progress instead of an air raid. This is what the correspondent saw one evening during a raid when he was obliged to seek cover in one of the subway stations: In one corner a violin, accompanied by two guitars, was doling out a tune to which a “squadron” of youthful aviators were waltzing around, their partners beihg a group of pretty danseuses who had hurriedly left a neighboring

theater wearing their costumes, makeup and all. In another corner a group of Poilus, loaded down with their trench equipment, having been caught in the underground while on their way to the railroad depot and to the front, were singing “Madelon,” their “Tipperary,” in rather discordant tones. But It was singing just tfye same. Crap Game Holds Crowd.

An unusual feature of this particular “soiree” was a genuine all-Ameri-can crap game—not for keeps. It would hardly be an exaggeration to say that half of the crowd In the station had edged around the half dozen spare American doughboys—three of whom were gentlemen of color —to witness this contest in bone throwing. The colored gentlemen handled their dice with a deftness that was delightfully reminiscent of “somewhere In Harlem,” to say nothing of their proficiency in the vocabulary of the game, which Parisians have since learned is a very essential adjunct to any skill at It.

Investigation of casualties following an air raid over the capital have proved to the authorities that the greatest number St casualties are not the result of injuries received from the bombs of the raiders, but of carelessness on the part of the victims. Parisians have become too accustomed to air raids. They stay out of doors to see the bursting of the shells from the antiaircraft guns and others leave their shelters and go home before the signal. As a result recently 23 persons were injured, some because they did not keep under' cover long enough, and others because they stood at their windows watching the bursting shells as if it were an exhibition of fireworks. The police have again warned the population. “The better, protection of the city,” says an order, “is no reason for neglecting the precautions dictated by common sense.”