Rensselaer Republican, Volume 16, Number 52, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 September 1884 — THE PARIS POOR. [ARTICLE]

THE PARIS POOR.

How Cheaply Thousands, of Them Buy Their Food. Have you ever heard how thousands upon thousands of the very poor of Paris are fed, and how cheaply they buy their food ? I have been told something about it, but did not quite get all the social machinery of the matter into my head until I wont and Saw it. You know well enough that there is no such thing as wastefulness in all I’ranee. The French people not only have economy, but they have a more useful virtue even than that. They have facility. They |frot only can save, but they can make the most out of what they save. Here is the way this thing is managed. Everything that cannot possibly be used and reused at the hotels is scraped together, and it becomes the perquisite of the chiefs or certain other domestiques of the establishment. Bits of meat of every sort, bread, butter, vegetables, pastry and sweets are gathered together in a heap ready for the buyer. Men and women, young and old--usually old-come round to these hotels and restaurants and large houses and buy all these leavings which they take away in great baskets swung upon their backs. The less prosperous dealers doing business on the capital of a few francs, take their stuff away wrapped in old newspapers; and all this food goes to the markets. Here in the night it is assorted; meat, vegetables, bread pastry put into separate piles, and then arranged in due proportions on plates to be sold. Many fu.mil iAarr-T amtnld f.hnngnjd n of families—live wholly upon these leavings, year in and year out. The woman of the family comes to the market and buys what she wishes for the day—or can afford to buy—and takes it home with her, either in a basket or a bit of newspaper, as her means may enable her. In other instances many come to the market and do their eating their, buying their plate of victuals, and usually getting a piece of fresh bread from an opposite stall. These plates of food are sold anywhere iro:n two cents to twelve cents. lam told that a family consisting of five persons can be fed on os little as twenty-five cents a day. You would suppose that all these scraps of food—the leavings of the leavings—would look uninviting. Not so. Kemembera French hand lias touched it all, and as if by magic it is turned into a sightly and appetizing meal. When I was first in the market I saw old women bringing masses of food" wrapped in newspapers, which they sold for a few sous, and in a few minutes it was all assorted and transformed into rather inviting dishes. Then there were the buyers and the eaters. Perhaps in all there were 100 in the market where I was, eating their food standing at the counters. Families of working people sometimes are a bit ashamed to buy of these dealers, which nevertheless they do, under the pretext of getting the food for their dogs. However, this is all perfectly well understood, and though it is lying, yet it is not lying. But this time the crowds of indigent poor were gathered around the soupkettles ranged along the sidewalks outside the markets, and so I sauntered out and along with the crowd. My eyes were opened. Here was a side of Paris life I had never seen before. I know the poor of London well—their aniI did not know there was just the same class in Paris. I really saw r stones converted into people. It w'as in this wise. Around one soup-kettle, where an old woman sat, I saw, I should say, ten half-starved, pinched, chilled men, and boys, and girls. These were waiting for some generously disposed person to come along to bnv them a bowl of soup. As each gentlemen or lady approached the soup woman, the miserable creature would crowd up, but would not persistently beg, though their eyes would look imploringly toward the soup. Well, now for the miracle. I saw four miserable looking men, and as many half-naked boys, and I handed the old woman a franc to give them each a bowl of soup. Instead of my eight, instantly there were eighty around me! Where on earth they came from I don’t know; howthey came and, all the rest of it, left upon my mind the impression of a miracle wrought before my very eyes. The stones were converted into people. I went to the other side of the market and selected a soup kettle about which I saw a boy and girl standing and shivering. I wished to see if again this marvel of multiplication would be wrought. I cast about me and saw, other than the boy and girl, a few strollers passing and repassing. As quietly as I could—almost shyly—l handed the woman a franc, and lo and behold, there were not less than a score of like wretched men and women, and boys and girls imploring for soup, and this—in all seriousness—was in the twinkle of an eye. The soup smelt savory and looked nice, and with the ladle the bowl was filled from the kettle, in which a bone and a sausage and vege'able were boiling. Two cents a bowl! That is all. Good, tasteful soup at 2 cents a bowl.— liev. Robert Laird Collier. '