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About The Sunday Oregonian. (Portland, Ore.) 1881-current | View Entire Issue (Dec. 31, 1922)
XITE SUXDAY OREGOXTAX. TOKTLAND. DECEMBER 31, 1922 CURRENT HAPPENINGS PICTORIALLY PRESENTED BY DARLING ..... ... i . Ma r . ; ; j . . ......... : - 7 1 : : : : - : i THOSE EUROPEANS ARE CERTAEVLT, BTSOXQ OS THE MANOFACTUREOF-CHRISTMAS TOYS. ii " JSCT THAT WE OUGHT TO bOVE THE BOOTtEGGEB MOKE, BUT THE MCKDEB ME2CHANT lESSUj 111'' y. 'TWAS THE WEEK AFTER CHRISTMAS. WHEN Alt THROUGH THE HOUSE . , te-r-s sec c ) r ( HFYr . : , " 5i 1 jS- !'. HON 530 YOU ' ' " UPP05B vpoAra eVR30(M& OUT. in .SOCKET ISttWNCj ' t'Kg THAT 3 - ml- 4 Aft rp-r.v JF THERE IS "ONE UNQUESTIONABLE. DUT OK X (.l KRNMEXT T IS JO KAUTTAJN THS , PUBLIC HIGHWAY. 1 f ' Ifc . I V mi) P. - A JT SHIPS lJ'ty) SEEM9 GREAT TO HAVE- THE KIDS HOME FROM SCHOOL AGAIN. DOESN'T ITT 1 ITl iOMCOME ' FOR. YOU ANP 3' 1 - ' w r . tuC run nDRfcl TftllAV 0R Sowe CtEM tfcUNWY IN iltlll. .OOKINt,Ve1-1-7 lnr ? Good ove wower So k0"4 Ms- ggh- y : Sl 1 THE MARRIED LIFE OF HELEN AND WARREN BY MABEL. HERBERT UBNER. Unexpected Denouement of Expensive Dinner at Cafe de La Pais Illustrates Grafting Upon Americans by French in Paris and Psychology of Tourists Who Like to Be Overcharged as Well as to Pay for Everybody's Plate. rHOM do you think I bumped into?" Warren threw Jiis hat and stick on the bed. "The Bartons! Down Btairs ivaiting we're all going out to dinner." "The Bartons?" amazed Helen, gathering up the Paris postcards she had been writing home. "Didn't know they wera over here." "Been here, a month sailing Sat urday. Just ran into them on the Hue Royale. Hustle now. All right as you are don't stop to fuss." "Dear, have you any stamps? How's she dressed?" "Didn't notice. Oh, you're good enough. That's all I got." "Where're we going?" hastily af fixing the stamps. "I suggested Vian's but Barton wants to go to the Cafe de la Pais." "Yes, and order a lot of expensive dishes and you'll .pay the bill! That's the way it was with the Cros bys last week. I don't mind enter taining at home, but I don't see why you should dine everybody you meet in Paris." "Now don't start that!" irately, net me out a clean collar," peel ing off his coat to wash up. i Ignoring his admonition not to dress, with resentful haste Helen changed to her maise charmeuse. She had looked forward to a cosy aUmerAt Henrietta's, .a quaint Latin quarter restaurant. Now they must go to a noisy expensive place and of course it would be Warren's din ner. Downstairs in the Louis XV re ception room, she greeted the Bar tons with forced cordiality. After the usual volubility of Americans meeting abroad, they crowded into a taxi and were whisked off to the Cafe de ia Paix. At that popular rendezvous the head waiter, ever alert for the tip lavishing Americans, gave them a choice wall table with the long red leather seats. "If we'd only known you were here!" Mrs. Barton threw back her wrap, exposing an unbecoming French gown. "We could have gone so many places together." Helen, who loathed sightseeing with friends, murmured polite re grets. , . : "We'll pass up the oysters," War ren was intent on the menu. "Get oysters at home. Hors d'oeuvres. And what kind of soup?" "St. Germain's one of their spe cialties. And we had some good duck here the other night," sug gested Mr. Barton. "But I don't see it on the card." The hovering head waiter eagerly assured them they coulid have duck, though it was not on the menu tonight. . Duck's always' so rich and heavy," demurred Helen, JsnowinB anything cooked special would be exorbitantly priced. . But Warren, ignoring her re straining nudge, gave the order. "What do you people drink? How about Chablis? 1916 is a good year." "Chablis's rather dry," protested Helen. "Don't you like Graves?" for that was always the cheapest of the light wines. But again her economical sugges tion was ignored. . The dinner ordered up to the des sert, the usual exchange of expe riences followed. Hotel accommodations, the rates they were paying, the restaurants they had discovered, the shops and the general tendency to overcharge Americans. "They're certainly out to do -us this year," complained Mr. Barton. "Always did trim you in Paris," shrugged Warren. "Well, I'll never buy another gown here." Mrs. Barton's tone was em phatic. "The styles are too extreme and they're not well made." "Yes, I've found that out," agreed Helen. "You can do better at home and for less money. And hats! I've given up trying to get hats here." "Yet we've, always been hypno tized by the thought of Paris hats and gowns. There never was any thing so over-rated." "About all I'm buying this year are veils, gloves and perfume." "Their gloves are good and cheap. but you can't get long gloves with clasps and I hate buttons they're always coming . off. Just look bought yesterday.". Mrs. Barton held up a long white glove minus two buttons. . , ... . "That's the way they sew. Tou have to go over everything." "And silk stockings! I always thought Paris was the place to get silk stockings, but they're much higher and not nearly as good as ours." "I never bought but one pair here. They don't have size eight, so I had to get misses' stockings and length en the tops," laughed Helen. "Of course you can get lovely hand-embroidered underwear, and very cheap, but nobody wears it any more it's too bulky. We all wear Silk." "And shoes! No wonder the American shoe shops flourish over here." . "I was talking to some American women the other day and they all said the same thing. We're really finding out we can buy much better at home." . "Except -antiques," qualified Helen. "I love the antique shops. Have you been along the Rue de Bac? Those narrow streets in the Latin quarter are lined with an tique iops. That's where I buy all my "presents." . "Presents! Do you have to take something to everybody too? Next time I'm going to buy them before we sail, so I yon't have that hang ing over me. And the duty get ting through the customs! It almost spoils the trip." "Try Mrs. Stevens' plan," laughed Helen. ''She keeps a box marked Presents from Europe.' When she sees anything cheap and attractive she buys it. Then, after each trip, she has her presents all ready." "Watch him carve that duck," in terrupted Warren, who had been discussing exchange rates with Mr. Barton. "Great work! One of Voi en's waiters, wasn't it, who could get 60 slices from one duck?" With surgical precision the elderly waiter carved, while bis assistant stood deferentially by. Mashing the liver and gizzard to a pulp, he mixed it with the red blood gravy and poured it over all. ' 'Voila, messieurs!" he beamed, placing the silver platter on the table. "I want to take back some of these pepper grinders we never see them at home." Helen ground a bit of pepper, over her steaming duck. "I wonder where I can get them?" "Oh, any of the big stores," sug gested Mrs. Barton. "I think I saw some at the Bon Marche on one of those outdoor tables. "Isn't that the cheapest way to display goods? Imagine any of our big department stores putting their bargain counters on the sidewalk! You'd think you were at a pushcart market." "They've always done that here the very best stores. Of course, they've lovely things inside, but those cheap street tables piled with everything from tinware to tawdry jewelry!" "Stop knocking and enjoy this duck," admonished Warren. "The French shops may not be all they're cracked up to be, but the restau rants are. Beat food in, the worldU Worth coming to Paris once a year if only for the eats." "The way they cook these- peas in lettuce juice they're delicious," en thused Helen, forgetting momentar ily her anxiety about the bill. For dessert they had fresh straw berry tart and coeur de creme the heart-shaped cream cheese smoth ered in thick sweet cream. They lingered almost an hour over the coffee, the tall glasses always more alluring than after-dinner cups. "Well, where do we go from here?" Warren glanced at his watch. "Folies Bergere? Just put on a new show there a frisky one, too." . .' "I haven't packed yet and you know we're leaving for London in the morning," regretted Mrs. Bar ton. "But 'if we don't stay too late" "Oh, if you have to pack, I wouldn't go," discouraged Helen, knowing Warren would pay for the tickets. "And I'm tired we've been up late every night." "It's a darn shame we didn't know you were here," remarked Mr. Bar ton for the third time. "We'd have had some great parties." 'The bill!" Warren had beckoned the waiter. "L'addition !" The waiter's voluble French was unintelligible. "What in blazes is he spluttering about? I want the bill! L'addition!" "He says there isn't any bill," grinned Mr. Barton, clipping a cigar. "No bill? What's the joker "This dinner's on me. I've a charge account that's why i insist ed on coming here. We always etop at the Grand, so we" eat here a lot." "Now, you can't get away with anything like that," protested War ren. "I ordered this dinner." "That's all right, we dined with you in New Xork. - Jt' already chalked up against me," puffing at the cigar as the waiter held a match. "You can't always have things your way." Helen felt the color rush to her face. She had been flagrantly un just. Mr. Barton had intended to pay all along! They WERE nice people! She even managed a genuine response to Mrs. Barton's once more, ex pressed regret that they had not met sooner. "Maybe we'll all be here next year. I hope to get over in August," remarked Mr. Barton, as they walked through the cafe to the lobby of the Grand hotel. ' "Afraid I can't plan that far ahead. But if we're here, we'll cer tainly look you up," Warren assured them. With the usual parting felicita tions for a smooth channel trip and a pleasant homeward voyage, they left them at the lift. . Outside on the crowded Boulevard des Capuclnes, Warren signaled a taxi. "No, dear, let's walk," demurred Helen. "Its a wonderful night," gazing down the festive avenue, gay with lights and sidewalk cafes. ' "Well, that's the time you guessed wrong," he grunted, as they strolled on. "Kept trying to shave down the order so darned afraid I'd spend a few francs!" , . "But you always DO pay! Every body takes advantage of you. I thought " - "Well, what ot it What if I had paid?" belligerently. "We're not eo hard up we can't have a few friends to dinner." "But over here you ask everyone you meet. Dear, it isn't necessary to " "Til ask whom I darn please! Met Holman this morning at the Amer ican. .Express. Ue' to dine with, us tomorrow night. Now I'll not be held down while we're in Paris. We're going to blow ourselves every rrfeal. Food's the best thing they do here and we're going to hit it hard!" (Copyright, 1022, Mabel Herbert Har per.) ' Next week Lost in a London Fog. GRANITE TRACT OBTAINED New Concern at Ashland to Pre pare Building Material. ASHLAND, Or., Dec. 28. (Spe cial.) Exclusive rights on a tract of land joining the Blair granite quarry lave been obtained by John M. Newell, a granite dealer, who re cently came to Ashland from east ern Oregon. The granite dike on this property is said to.be a con tinuation of that on the Blair tract, which produces an exceptionally fine quality of stone. Marble will be handled for interfvr building work by the new company, which will be known as the Ashland Granite company. A workroom has been prepared in the city and .pneumatic tools in stalled' for carving and lettering. strictly as a retail manufacturer Aaell.n ian,l.. .' . I. IL . . . uecw.u. w,Lu nits uunsumei. Several orders already have been placed for spring delivery. Hot Lake Couple Get License. (Br Chicago-Tribune Leased Wire.) CHICAGO, Dec. 28.- A marriage license was issued here today to Ernest L. McKown, 28, and Winifred Hilyard, 25, tooth, of Hot Lake, Or.