Jasper Banner, Volume 2, Number 9, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 5 April 1855 — A Winter Scene in Paris. [ARTICLE]

A Winter Scene in Paris.

As I passed through the Champs Elysee with my dispatch, a feature indicative of the season and its suppose d continuity, met my eye. Severe . ladies, the French would perhaps civil them amazons, defiant of the l.jow darkening the atmosphere by its thick and heavy flakes, were amusing themselves in charioteering sleighs of slight but graceful conformation, drawn by one horse, whose head was ornamented with crimson .plumes, and on whose gear the music •pf bells rung cheerily, as, answering tu. ihelash of Ida. fair ctfftditttiasri... lift •sprang forward and darted up and down the broad avenue. Some half dozen of these spirited dames who, thus determined to astonish the world with noble horsemanship, sparkled like children of the mist, amidst the cold and pelting element, and diverted by their skillful gyrations many a solitary individual from contemplating his own cheeless, miserable lot, as, blown by the wind, saturated by the snow, and-tripped up by the slip--pery surface, he staggered on his bleak and wintry passage. Who and ii-nut ‘laugh and crackling thong thus be* guiled stern February of his stormy pride, I have no means of knowing. In Paris one witnesses so many strange scenes that surprise ceases to be, after a time, an emotion of the human mind, and whether they were fair scions of that aristocracy which the revolutionary fermentations of France have heaved up to the surface from their long negnelcted bed of rest, or the Mogadors, who, one day the cynosure of all eyes at the Hippodrome, on the next dispense übiquitous smiles, and change their loves with the sun, I know not. Thus much I only aver, that, the ease with which they ‘ handle thejibbdhs,” and the stern grace with which they applied the stringing lash, was the theme of general admiration. Instead, however, of being the messengers of-na-ture’s fixed resolve to confirm and strengthen our icy chains, they proved to be, in all probability, the bright, but fading, genii of departing winter.* Long before' night had gathered all to their homes and snug iiresides, the h*’iow had changed its character, and become rain, and the next morning, instead of a glossy railroad on which imperial and Amazonian personages might shoot along before the eyes of admiring spectators, there was nothing to be seen but mountains of blackened snow, and mud, in one interminable sea of nastiness.—CorriXyondent of Ike