whole cloud of butterflies
rises to settle elsewhere. Julien's, Sylvain's, La Rue's, the Cafe de La
Paix, Maire's, Paillard's all had their time when there was not a vacant
seat in their rooms at 1 A.M. Durand's, in the summer of '92, was the
society supping-place. At the Cafe de Paris, where M. Mourier, a former
_maitre-d'hotel_ of Maire's reigns, the British matron and the
travelling American gaze at the _haute cocotterie_--who patronise the
right fork of the room as you enter. At Maxim's, any gentleman may
conduct the band if he wishes to, and the tables are often cleared away
and a little impromptu dance organised. At the Cafe Americain, the
profession of the ladies who frequent it at supper-time is a little too
obvious. You should take your wife to Durand's. She will insist on going
to the Cafe de Paris. You should not take her to Maxim's, and you cannot
take her to the Americain. Of course, the supping-places I have
enumerated are but a few of the many, for there is no Early Closing Act
in France, every restaurant in Paris keeps open till 2 A.M., and some
later, and supper is to be had at all of them. Personally, I am never
happier at supper-time than when I am sitting in the back room at the
Taverne Pousset picking crayfish out of a wooden bowl where they swim
in savoury liquid, pulling them to pieces, and eating them as they were
eaten before forks and spoons put fingers out of fashion. The Restaurant
des Fleurs, the newest of the Parisian restaurants, in the Rue
St-Honore, is making a bid with its decoration in the "new art" style to
capture those who sup.

Miscellaneous

Since Cubat in dudgeon gave up his restaurant in the Avenue of the
Champs Elysees, there has been no prominent foreign restaurant in Paris.
Cubat, whose restaurant in St. Petersburg is so well known, brought
Russian cookery to Paris; but though the Parisians are fond enough of
cheering for the Dual Alliance, they did not dip into their pockets to
keep the Russian restaurant in existence. An expensive German
restaurant, a relic of the last exhibition, showed its lights just off
the great boulevards, but after a time disappeared. There are Viennese
restaurants on the boulevards and in the Rue d'Hauteville, and Spanish
and Italian establishments may be found by the curious who wish to
impair their digestion. The Englishman or American who has been feeding
on rich food for any length of time, often yearns for perfectly simple
food. At Henry's