short-sighted. To diminish the attractions of Versailles
would certainly prove an unwise policy, as the stream of tourists, which
is the chief source of profit to Versailles and its population, would
inevitably be diverted to some other channel.

Only a short time ago a Societe des Amis de Versailles was created for
the purpose of safeguarding its artistic and natural beauties. The
government gave the organization its approbation and there is something
delightfully ironical in the fact that the military authorities of the
same government are planning to destroy what the society, fathered by
the Ministere des Beaux Arts, was formed to preserve.

Another modern aspect of the park of Versailles was noted during the
late winter when, after a sharp freeze, all the youth of Paris had
seemingly gone out to Versailles for the skating only to be met by a
freshly-posted notice which read:

Defense
De Patiner Par
Arrete du 17 Decembre, 1849

These signs were posted here and there about the park, in the courtyard,
on the postern gate, on trees, everywhere. The authorities were bound
that there should be no flagrant violation of the order of 1849.

"You see," said one of the park guardians, "_c'est defendu_; but as we
are only two and the crowd is very large we can do nothing." This was
evident. Thousands overran the Grand Canal, which at its greatest depth
was scarcely more than a yard to the bottom, and so, despite of
monarchial decree, Republican France still skates on the ornamental
waters of Versailles when occasion offers.

"_N'oubliez pas le petit balayeur, s'il vous plait_," was as often heard
as "_Allez vous-en_."

On the whole it was rather a picturesque sight. A thick haze hung over
the now white "Tapis Vert," and the nude figures of the Bassin d'Apollon
were clothed in a mantle of snow, while the white-robed statues of the
Allee Royale, one could well believe, shivered as one passed.

[Illustration: _The Bassin de Latone, Versailles_]

The fountains of Versailles, the "Grands Eaux" and "Petits Eaux," which
shoot their jets in air "semi-occasionally" for the benefit of Paris's
"good papas" and their children, are distinctly popular features, and of
an artistic worth neither less nor greater than most garden accessories
of the artificial order. The fact that it costs something like ten
thousand francs to "play" these fountains seems to be the chief memory
which one retains of them in operation, unles