Assuniption Day, August 15, is one of the religious festivals which free-thinking France has taken over from the Church and converted into what are called bank in England. This year, a Sunday, and as the public would certainly disapprove of losing a day off, the Government thoughtfully transferred the celebration to. the Monday. Any Parisian who wandered into the Bois de Boulogne that day might have imagined him. self carried back a good many years. It was quite a Parisian holiday scene. No foreign tourists thick boots and strange clothes offended the eye. Every convenient. Patch of grass was occupied by a family. Babies lay under the shade of trees or cunningly-propped umbrelles, and kicked their chubby gs in the air, while papa, in his shirt-sleeves, played ball with his older offspring, stopping from time time to make sure that the loth wrapped round the wine-bottle vas properly moistened to keep the precious liquid cool. Down by the river, stout men fished sedately and days bathed merrily. It was a glorious old-fashioned day of rest that put a glow on pale cheeks and new life into jaded frames, The Parisians who took refuge in the Bois were wise in their gen-loration, The city was almost unbearably hot. The asphalt in the: streets, though not actually soft, gave off mephitic odours, Early in the afternoon the thermometer: marked 86 deg. ahr. in the shade fand the breeze was like a sirocco. /Strong men collapsed in cafes and fealled feebly for cooling drinks. dog, observing a yellow and white eat' seated nonchalantly beside a bench in the Boulevard, Poissonide picked up his ears instinety but went on his way, trying: to look indifferent. No ardour of the chase was left in him, A holiday of a more strenuous type was illustrated in the even ing at the principal railway sta tions when the trains began—to discharge their loads of returning Parisians. This year's Assumption railway trafic on the French lines. must have been one of the largest Jon record. not only on account of the beautiful weather but of the impending increase in faves. Theiftisis afifi an integral part of the French nature and. the knowledge that railway ticket taken last week would east 30 per cent, more than it costs today must" have influenced a gt vacation us, The Gare St. Lazaro, the re clu Nord und, in lesser de-Jerees, all the other termini were jehock-full in. the of sunburnt and more or less dishevelled people of all ages and conditions, all laden with hand-baggage and all in a great hurry to get home either by means of a problematical or the friendly and reliable "To complete the picture, we should perhaps bestow a thought Jon the adult male Parisian who has Rot gone away. He has seen his wife off at the station on her way to the seaside, has maintained a becoming attitude of mild resigna tion in the face of discomforts. to Jconte, and has pulled down his waistjeoat and tilted his hat ever slightly on one side as the train steamed out and left him to his Jown devices. It is a pleasant feel-ting at first, but domestic freedom soon begins to develop drawbacks. The fun of making the morning coffee wears thin under the strain of having to sally forth onan empty stomach and fetch the milk jand rolls. Even a favourable resstaurant, when visited every day, is apt to arouse thoughts of same-ess in cooking. The worst moment of all is when he returns home at night and surveys his unmade bed, his unswept floors, his slippers and other articles of elothlying where he left. them. This is one of those rare moments when Madame triumphs over Mon-Seiur without saying a word.
The Motoring Microbe It appears from official figures that the microbe of motoring continues its ravages in France with undiminished vigour. The examin-[ers who issue driving licences (except in 16 departments in which this duty is entrusted to the min-
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.