re as well as its gaslight and its supplies of ice, but wealth only.
The humblest abode of a Philadelphia mechanic contains comforts and
conveniences which are wellnigh unattainable luxuries in all but the
most splendid apartments of the most luxurious city of Europe.

Nor do all the delicate artifices of French cookery suffice wholly to
replace for an American palate the dainties of his native land. The
buckwheat cakes and waffles, the large, delicate-flavored, luscious
oysters, the canvas-back ducks, the Philadelphia croquettes and
terrapin, find no substitutes on this side of the water. The delicious
shad and Spanish mackerel have no gastronomic rivals in these waters,
and the sole must be accepted in their stead. We miss, too, our
profusion and variety of vegetables, our stewed and stuffed tomatoes,
green corn, oyster-plants and sweet potatoes. As for fruits, the smaller
varieties are far more abundant and much finer here than they are with
us. Strawberries, cherries, raspberries, gooseberries, apricots--all of
great size and exquisite flavor--tempt and enchant the palate. But our
rich profusion of tropical fruits, such as bananas and pineapples, is
wholly unknown. Peaches are poor in flavor and exorbitant in price. As
for meats, poultry is dearer in Paris than at home, a small chicken for
fricasseeing costing six francs ($1.20 in gold), and a large one for
roasting ten francs ($2). Beef and mutton are at about the same prices
as in Philadelphia and New York. Butter costs from sixty to seventy
cents a pound. One can easily see, therefore, that it takes all the
skill and experience in domestic economy of Parisian housekeepers to
maintain the prices of living at anything like its present standard in
_pensions_ and hotels. But, in truth, the general standard of
French cooking has been much lowered since the war. A really sumptuous
French dinner is no longer to be procured at any of the tables d'hote or
the leading hotels, and if ordered at a first-class restaurant it will
cost twice as much as it used to do.

Rents, though somewhat lowered from their former proportions, are still
very high, a really elegant unfurnished suite of apartments costing from
five thousand to ten thousand francs a year, according to location; and
if furnished, nearly as much more. Two thousand francs is the lowest
rent which economy, desirous of two or three bed-rooms, in addition to
the parlor, kitchen and dining-room of an ordinary suite, ca