Графични страници
PDF файл
ePub

NOTES ABOUT TEA.

is own. But he has dressed them up so well, with so uch spirit, so much verve, such gayety, such a glorious ash of fresh young animal spirits, that we are persuaded nat Maurice Bouchor, may, if he pleases, become a poet ho will live.

And only eighteen! How many have there been in the orld's history who, being young, could also feel the fleetng bloom of life, and sing of it as Maurice Bouchor

ngs:

Divine jeunesse, O bon soleil joyeux,
Tu verseras en nous la pourpre étincelante!

NOTES ABOUT TEA.

BY E. DUFFIELD JONES.

It is not our purpose in the present paper to enter upon iny lengthened disquisition as to the cultivation of the ea-plant, or the manner in which all the various descriptions of tea are prepared for the foreign consumer; but, while glancing briefly at a few incidental matters appertaining to the tea trade which appear to us to be more especially worthy of notice, mainly to offer some explanatory remarks with regard to the names by which some of the principal varieties of the leaf are known among the Chinese.

The four great tea-ports of China are, Canton (a corruption of the Chinese Kuang-chou), Foochow, Shanghai, and Hankow, which derives its name, "Han-mouth," from the fact of its being placed at the point where the river Han flows into the Yang-tsze kiang, five hundred and eightytwo geographical miles from Shanghai. This great port in Central China was opened to foreign trade by the last treaty, and oddly enough, though it is such a populous and busy place, the Chinese do not call it a city of even the third class, but it is considered the first of the five chen, or great commercial marts of the empire; hence the natives very frequently speak of it as Han-chên, instead of Hankow.

It is hardly necessary to remark that both black and green teas are exported from China to foreign countries; the latter, however, is the less important branch of the trade, for in 1872 the green teas formed only one seventh part of the whole amount exported, and one thirteenth part of the amount which was sent to this country.

At one time it used to be the fashion in England to call all tea "bohea." This term, it may be well to remark, was derived by foreigners from the Cantonese pronunciation of the Woo-hee or Woo-hsi Hills, in the province of Fohkien, of which the port of Foochow is now the outlet. The chief kinds of black tea are known by the names congou, soochong (or souchong), and pekoe (which used sometimes to be written pecco); and the main varieties of green tea are called young hyson, hyson, hyson-skin, gunpowder, and twankay. subsidiary names, of which more anon. Besides these, there are many With regard to the meaning of the terms, many of the names contain an allusion to the shape or color of the leaf, the time of gathering, or the way in which it is prepared. Congou is a corruption of kung-foo, which simply means "labor;" souchong (seao-chung) is the Chinese for "little sprouts;" the word pekoe is arrived at through the Cantonese dialect from pai-hao, i. e. "while down or hair." This kind is so called, because it is made from the young spring-leaf buds, while there is still a down upon them. The name hyson is a corruption of the words he (or hsi) chun, that is, "fair spring; young byson is yu chien, i. e. " before the rains," by which the Chinese expression for it is signified that this description of leaf is picked before the "grain rain period," which occurs in the third moon (April). Hyson-skin is the foreign designation of pi-cha, literally" "the native name for gunpowder tea of Tun-kes, "beacon-brook," the name of a place. is yuan choo," round pearls ;" and twankay is a corruption Other kinds of black tea are orange pekoe and inferior

"skin tea;

[ocr errors]

66

97

[ocr errors]

(mei),1 "red plum-blossom;" tseao-shê, " sparrow's tongue;' pekoe, which the Chinese call respectively shang-seang, powchong (pao-chung), so called because it is wrapped up 'very fragrant," and tsze-hao, “carnation hair ;” hung-moey in small parcels; campoi (chien-pei), "careful or selected firing;" choo-lan, "pearl-flower," so named because the leaves are scented with that flower; oolong (hêi lung), "black dragon; " then there are " dragon's pellet," on's whiskers," "fir-leaf pattern," "autumn dew," etc. ""dragPekoe the Chinese also call chün-mei, or " prince's eyebrow." Oopak is simply the Cantonese pronunciation of Hoo-pei, the province in which Hankow is. We often hear of Moning congou, Kyshow or Kaisow congou, etc.; these are merely labor" teas, grown in the districts of Moning (Cantonese for Woo-ning, "military rest "), and Kai or Chieh-show, though we rather doubt if either of these districts can possibly produce all the "labor which they are credited. teas with

[ocr errors]

86

[ocr errors]

ing skin;
Of the green varieties, young hyson is also called mei-pien,
gunpowder is also termed ma-choo, or "hemp pearls;" and
or "plum petals: " old hyson is he (hsi) pi, or “flourish-
Tsung-lo or Sung-lo is the name of a place;
imperial ta-choo, or "great pearls; "there is also a kind of
green tea called choo-lan, "pearl flower."

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

lance;" shou-mei, "old man's or longevity eyebrow; Besides the foregoing, the Chinese have several other names for different kinds of tea, such as ke-tseang, "flagyin-chên, "silver needle;" tsao-chun, "early spring;" koo"bitter cloves," etc. ting, "Chop names are fancy designations of parcels of tea. The word "chop" belongs to that jargon called pigeon actions are most commonly carried on in China, owing to (or pidgin) English, by means of which commercial transthe foreign and native traders not being acquainted with one another's languages. The term "chop " is not a very definite one, for it is applied at one time to a parcel of one or two hundred chests, and at another to one of six or seven hundred.

The Chinese dealers in tea, who bring the commodity to the different ports for sale to foreigners, must not be confounded with the growers, who are usually only small teafarmers. The tea is collected from them by brokers, and then sold to the dealers, who give the various parcels felicitous and high-sounding names, some of which get so well-known and popular that they are used again season We do not mean to say that all the tea which is brought to England goes through so many hands, for foreign firms sometimes send their own Chinese agents into the tea districts with large sums of money, and these men contract, on behalf of their employers, with the teafarmers for their crops, and then bring the teas down in native boats to the nearest Treaty ports. These teas are called "contract teas."

after season.

this country belongs to the class called congou or “labor" As nearly the whole of the black tea annually brought to tea, the following account, given by Mr. Doolittle, an American writer, of the method of preparing it, will doubtless be interesting to the reader : —

place. The object of this is not to dry them, but only to "1. The leaves are exposed in the sun, or in an airy wilt them slowly and thoroughly.

"2. A quantity of the leaves thus wilted are put into a shallow vessel, usually made of the splints of the bamboo, and trodden down together for a considerable time, until all the fibres and stems of the leaves are broken. Men, barefooted, are employed to do this work, because the Chinese do not appear to have found out a more convenient,

expeditious, and effective method of attaining the object in

view.

by the hands of the operator, the object being to cause
"3. The leaves are then rolled in a particular manner
them to take a round or spiral form. If not rolled in this
way, they would remain flat, a shape not adapted to the
spread out, are passed around for some time in a circular
foreign market. While lying on the vessel, the hands,

1 When two Chinese sounds are given, the one in the parenthesis is that
of the court dialect.

manner, parallel to the bottom of the vessel, lightly touching the leaves.

4. They are now placed in a heap to heat for half an hour or longer, until they become of a reddish appear

ance.

"5. The leaves are then spread out in the sun, or in a light and airy place, and left to dry.

"6. The leaf is next sold to the agents of foreigners, or to native dealers, who take it away and expend a great deal of labor upon it before it is shipped to foreign countries. It is sifted in coarse sieves, and picked over several times, in order to separate the different qualities, to remove the stems, the large or flat leaves, etc. It is dried several times over slow fires in iron pans, in order to prevent its spoiling through any moisture that may still be retained in it."

The process necessary to make oolong, says one of her Majesty's vice-consuls in China, in a recent Commercial Report, is very simple: in fact, such tea is the pure article in its most unsophisticated form, and with the least amount of manipulation. The green leaves are plucked from the bushes and gathered into baskets by women and children; they are then spread on a covered floor for twenty-four hours; then stirred and tossed in a metal pan over a fire, until they attain a curled-up spongy appearance, and possess the proper smell. Finally they are fired in a wicker basket, shaped like an egg-cup, the waist of which is divided by a sieve, upon which about seven pounds of tea are placed; the basket is set over an open charcoal oven, the fire of which has been previously banked up with lime and ashes, and emits no smoke. The oolong, however, when sold to the foreigner, has not been sufficiently fired to withstand the trying effect of a long voyage home, and has to re-undergo the latter process in the foreign hong, for six to eight hours, before it is finally packed for export. The Chinese themselves drink the simple decoction of tea without any addition of sugar or milk, and pour off the infusion almost directly after the boiling water has been poured on the leaf; they also frequently make their tea in a cup provided with a cover. We have also heard that "there are other plants used for tea by the poor Chinese; the leaves of one or two species of camellia are sometimes employed for the purpose in districts where they are abundant; but these and all other plants are considered poor substitutes for the true tea by the natives themselves."

In Mongolia and some parts of Russia, what is called brick tea is largely consumed. This is made to a great extent in the tea districts of Central China by softening refuse leaves, twigs, and dust with boiling water, and then moulding the compound into large flat cakes, like tiles or bricks. The nomad Mongols use this curious article not only for drinking purposes, but also in the place of a circulating medium!

It will doubtless be interesting to our readers if we here make a few brief remarks on the subject of the adulteration of tea in China and at home, though we can only glance very cursorily at the question. In his Report on the trade of Canton for the year 1872, Sir D. B. Robertson, C. B., says, "The article called 'lie tea' is composed of various substances, and principally of the cactus-leaf and the sweepings and dust of the tea go-downs [i. e., warehouses]. Large quantities are made in Canton for mixing with the true teas, and it is difficult to detect the adulteration. The admixture of iron filings is also frequent, and this is particularly observable in the teas of 1871 and 1872 seasons. The tea-men have been warned against the practice, but it still prevails, and probably will until the law against the adulteration of food is enforced in England, and reclamations are made here [at Canton] in consequence." This is not very reassuring to tea-drinkers at home, and the information we get from Shanghai is equally, if not more, depressing. Her Majesty's Consul at that port, speaking of the teas which "owe their origin to districts with which Shanghai 2 is in immediate relation," observes, "What is

1 It may be well to explain that the term Hong includes the merchant's house, office, and go-downs, i. e. warehouses, where his goods are all stored. Separate go-downs are generally devoted to the storage, etc., of tea.

2 The greater part, in fact, nearly the whole, of the tea which is exported from Shanghai, comes from Hankow, Kiukiang, etc.

known as 'maloo mixture' - a medley of used tea-leaves, the leaves of the peach, plum, etc., and filth of all sortsis manufactured in Shanghai, for shipment to England, t a varying extent; and, though unfit for consumption in food, is largely consumed by the tea-drinking classes t home!" It is currently believed by many people that te is much adulterated after its arrival in this country, and that various English leaves such as those of the slo hawthorn, beech, and willow—are used for this purposes but after a careful investigation we are of opinion that whatever a few unscrupulous retail dealers may do, these stories are in the main a delusion nowadays, although it a just possible that such adulteration may have taken place in the days when the duty was high, and tea cost from ten to fifteen shillings per pound. The truth of our statement will be at once apparent when we point out that common Chinese tea, or rather "rubbish," can be bought on the London market at twopence or threepence per pound (ex clusive, of course, of the duty), which can be mixed with the better kinds of tea, and that, as the duty is only sixpence per pound, there is not much temptation for any one especially in these days of public analysts, to run the risk of a criminal prosecution by selling a compound of sloe and other leaves. As mentioned above, tea not uncommonly arrives from China mixed with foreign leaves, etc. and a friend, learned in these matters, has informed us that he once saw some "green tea" from Canton without any tealeaves in it at all, the precious importation being entirely made of some other leaf! This tea is said to have been made in Macao, and was sold in London and shipped to the Continent! Report says that there is a man who has an establishment somewhere on the Thames and who will convert" Canton caper" (a black tea) into green-tea gunpowder, and that this has often been done when green teas were very dear! We are not acquainted with the modus operandi in this curiouss ubsidiary branch of the London tea-trade, but we trust that the details are of an innocent nature. The coarse, rank tea which is sold in England at a low rate, and which is popularly called "broom-sticks," is, we imagine, third-crop leaf, which is picked late in the season, and not improbably it contains a large admixture of the "rubbish" spoken of above.

Every one is familiar with the appearance of tea-chests, but we imagine that not many people have any idea how their leaden lining is made, and we will, therefore, conclude these notes with an account of the process, for which we are indebted to Mr. Lockhart's "Twenty Years' Experience in China: "

"The plumber has a furnace on the floor, with an iron pot on the fire with melted lead, and a small iron or brass fadle. He also has two flooring tiles rather more than a foot square, which are covered with paper, pasted smooth and firm over one surface. One of these tiles is placed on the floor, but raised about three or four inches, with the papered surface upwards. The other tile is laid upon this, with its papered surface down. The man gets on the tiles, and sitting on his heels, takes a ladleful of lead; putting the toes of one foot to the ground, he dexterously lifts with his left hand the front edge of the upper tile, and pours the lead with a sweep between them. Then raising his foot from the ground, the upper tile yields freely to his weight, and the melted lead is pressed between the papered surfaces, the surplus escaping at the edges. He immediately raises the tile, removes the sheet of lead and proceeds to make another. His fellow-workmen examine the sheets, as they are thrown off; if, as happens at times they are irregular, they are returned to the melting-pot. If they find them in good order, they rapidly cut them square by the aid of a rule, and solder the small sheets together to serve as large ones. Paper is then pasted down on them, and they are ready to be used as lining for the chests. Sometimes the thin leaden chest is covered with paper after being made up; at other times the separate sheets are covered, and any imperfections attended to afterwards. The paper being inside, the lead chest does not affect the tea, which it would do, were the lead and the tea placed in contact."

MAD DOGS AGAIN.

THE metropolis appears to have been lately under some rturbation regarding mad dogs, probably on no sufficient ounds, for the occurrence of only one or two cases of bidness is apt to spread alarm, and raise a general war ainst the canine species. While such may be the comon fe ling, there are persons inclined to doubt the very istence of hydrophobia. We have heard a noted veterary surgeon declare that this disease, as so called, was a lusion, and that, when it occurred in human beings, it as some other disorder — meaning, possibly, a variety of anus. The medical profession is certainly at a loss conrning the actual character of the disorder, and there are so differences of opinion as to its mode of treatment. It conclusive, however, that call it what we may, there is rabid condition incidental to dogs, wolves, and cats. ackals in India are also said to be liable to the disorder. the rabid condition, the saliva of the animal is of a Disonous nature; and the virus may be communicated by ocalation to the human being, and prove fatal to life. To communicate the disease to our system, it is not essenal that the animal should bite; it will be quite sufficient it lick any scratch or laceration on the hand or any ther part of the body. That the inoculation affects the lood, is exceedingly obvious, for the action of the heart disturbed, and death ensues more from a stoppage of the irculation than from any other perceptible cause.

Among the writers on pathology and surgery who have given close attention to the disease ordinarily called hydrophobia, we may mention Cæsar H. Hawkins, Sergeantsurgeon to the Queen. Some years ago, he delivered a lecture on this particular disease at St. George's Hospital, which has just been printed with his other works. It is the most lucid and comprehensive account of this frightful disorder which we have yet seen. He begins by telling the sad story of a boy of thirteen years of age, who had the misfortune to be bit on the right hand by a spaniel dog, which he was driving from the house. The dog was tied up by its master, to keep it from doing harm, but it died four or five days after inflicting the injury. The wound was small, and having healed, the boy felt nothing wrong for several weeks. He then complained of pains in his shoulder, and when his mother attempted to wash him, he felt a choking sensation, and ran away with dread. Admitted into St. George's Hospital, he was treated with certain medicines to allay spasmodic convulsions in the throat; but without avail. The convulsions and a difficulty in swallowing were only symptoms of a mysterious disorder throughout the system. At length he became furiously delirious; then the violence subsided, and he died calmly without a struggle, little more than fifty hours from the first time that any spasm had been observed.

The remarks made by Mr. Hawkins are worth quoting: "In this case, the actual hydrophobia, or dread of water, was very great during most of the time; but this horror is by no means constant, and forms no essential part of the disease. I have even seen patients glad to swallow frequently, with much effort and exertion of the will, it is true, but still they did it, on account of the comfort they derived from the act, probably by washing away the viscid secretions of the throat. The spasms were principally of the muscles of the fauces, throat, and neck, and are generally confined to these parts." The examination of bodies after death does not reveal any great derangement, except a certain degree of congestion in the stomach and blood. In the present case, as in others, the symptoms partly resembled those of tetanus; and from want of accurate observation, it seems likely that tetanus is often mistaken for hydrophobia. There is this important dissimilarity, however, between the two ailments: "Traumatic tetanus may arise from any kind of injury whatever, a burn, a wound, a dislocation without any wound, a splinter inserted in a nerve or fascia, a mere laceration, a mere scratch; in hydrophobia, on the contrary, there must be inoculation from the saliva and other secretions from the mouth of a

rabid animal." Hydrophobia would thus almost appear to be a kind of blood-poisoning superadded to tetanus. Mr. Hawkins says it is "probable that the poison is formed in the tough viscid secretion of the fauces, which gives so much distress to the patient, those parts being invariably much altered in color, and the glands enlarged. With this fluid of the mouth, whether mucous or salivary, or both, repeated experiments have been made, and have constantly succeeded in producing the disease in the inoculated animal."

There is some consolation in knowing, that of those who are bit by rabid animals comparatively few die of the injury. Pretty much as in the case of contagious disorders, the virus acts only where there is a certain susceptibility

[ocr errors]

in the person inoculated. Many, again, who are bitten, and might be in a state for it, do not receive the poison, because it is wiped off by the clothes, or because several have been bitten successively. I remember an account of a physician, a Dr. Ingelhong, who was engaged in some experiments with ticunas poison, and accidentally let the knife he was using drop down on his foot, on which he sat down, and said: 'In five minutes, I am a dead man.' When two or three minutes had elapsed, however, the doctor thought he might as well wipe his foot, and shortly found that he was not dead, and that the poison had been arrested by the clothes. The disease is, in fact, from these and other causes, much more rare than the public fears would lead one to imagine."

There is a curiously mistaken notion regarding hydrophobia. It is generally thought that the disease takes its name from a fear of water in rabid animals. Mr. Youatt an eminent naturalist, has pointed out that there is no hydrophobia in the dog. In a rabid state, his thirst is excessive, owing to the uncomfortable viscid condition of his mouth and throat. Instead of running away from water, he plunges his face into it up to the very eyes, and assiduously, but ineffectually, attempts to lap. Mr. Hawkins adds: “I may observe as to this point how completely the symptom of hydrophobia generally present in the human species is vulgarly transferred to the dog. I actually remember it being stated, that a London magistrate ordered a suspected dog to be taken to the pump, and there trying to drink, it was immediately turned loose again, with perfect confidence that it was not mad, after this very satisfactory test!"

On being bit by a dog presumedly rabid, the best thing to do is to make an excision of the part, or, at the very least, to apply lunar caustic. Mr. Youatt told Mr. Hawkins, "that a great many persons, in consequence of his peculiar practice, applied to him after they had been bitten by dogs, and that he always used lunar caustic, which he had employed upon himself and his servant every time, and in round numbers, perhaps four hundred others, and that, out of this number, one had died of fright, but none had had hydrophobia. This is a considerable number, of whom many must have been bitten by really mad dogs; and, on the whole, I am rather inclined to favor the argenti nitras, than the potassa fusa, if it can be got, to every suspected part."

Instances occur of many persons being bit by a dog in a rabid condition, and of the virus taking effect in only one of them; so much depends on predisposition and other circumstances. Fright and irritability of constitution may act very injuriously, and placidity of temper under the application of remedies is much to be commended. If the virus has taken effect, the disorder will usually manifest itself in from five to six weeks after being bitten. Whether a person in a state of hydrophobia can give it to another, "has not been proved." Cases, however, are produced of hydrophobia being communicated from dog to dog, to three

or four in succession.

Mr. Hawkins speaks doubtfully of any chance of saving the patient after the virus has demonstrably inoculated the system. By administering extract of Cannabis indica, and so forth, you may assuage the symptoms. "But, after all," he says, "what do you gain if you remove altogether the spasms, which are so prominent a symptom during a greater

part of the complaint? These spasms are only a symptom of the disorder, whatever it may be, just as they are in tetanus, indicating some obscure irritation of the nervous centres from some unknown cause. There are many hours' quiet in hydrophobia, the spasms in this case [that of the boy] scarcely being present for more than two hours out of the last twelve, but the disease was going on." In short, the disorder, when fairly established, may be considered ineradicable. "We have, in fact," he candidly adds, “no principle to guide us in the treatment of hydrophobia. We do not even know the mode in which the poison acts, whether it is carried into the circulation by the absorbents, as is most probable, so as to effect a change in the whole blood, just as the poison of small-pox does; or whether, as is often supposed, it causes some mysterious effect upon the nerves of the injured part, and, through them, on the brain and nervous centres."

In a letter lately addressed to the Times, Dr. Burdon Sanderson gives a popular summary of the premonitory indications of madness in dogs. The animal, he says, loses its natural liveliness; mopes about, and seeks to withdraw into dark corners; its appetite becomes depraved; it eats rubbish with avidity; and it snaps at other dogs. Any such appearance of snapping shows it is not safe. A healthy dog which is at large notices and takes an interest in the sights and sounds when walking out. "The rabid dog, on the contrary, goes sullenly and unobservantly forward, and is not diverted by objects obviously likely to attract it." If the dog be tied up, its bark loses its ring, and acquires a peculiar hoarseness. As the disorder increases, a viscid saliva is discharged from the mouth, the lower jaw hangs as if paralyzed, the poor animal has an evident difficulty in swallowing, and he probably loses the power of his hind-legs. The madness is not confined to any particular season, though most common in summer, and, as already stated, the animal does not shun water. Dr. B. Sanderson concludes by advising the destruction of all ownerless dogs; for usually in large towns they are 'the carriers of contagion.

One thing, and a very important one, remains to be specified. As prevention is better than cure, we cannot speak too strongly of the necessity for treating dogs with that degree of kind consideration which will go far to avert their falling into a rabid condition. Too frequently are they neglected, kicked about, half-starved, and denied proper shelter from the weather. Those who do not treat dogs with a proper regard to their wants, ought not to have them. The creatures had better be put out of existence than maltreated. Besides regular food and shelter, dogs require water to allay their thirst, particularly in warm weather, and neglect on this score is perhaps, more than anything else, the cause of madness. We believe that rabies more frequently occurs in male than female dogs. At least, the females in the smaller and tender varieties are more easily managed as pets. This circumstance alone points to the error, or, indeed, the cruelty, of drowning female pups, and allowing the male ones to live. Nature, it is to be remembered, cannot be outraged with impunity.

AT A MAN-MILLINER'S.

BY EVELYN JERROLD.

MONSIEUR TROIS ÉTOILES' admirers and customers (the terms are by no means synonymous, for admiration is cheap, and Monsieur Trois-Etoiles' dresses are costly), base their reverent regard on loftier reasons than the mere fashion of the moment. They believe in Monsieur's mission a regenerative one in the matter of trains and underskirts, and polonaises. They consider that a male reformer was necessary, averring that women's minds are too absorbed by the study of details to be able to regulate the general principles of costume; they consider that Monsieur deserves his celebrity, his irreproachable horses, that Swiss

villa at Enghien, all the moral and material harvest heb reaped, by real services rendered to the art of self-decor tion.

We, who judge these novices by their outward efte are biased in our conclusions by a mean prospective d other results- bills whose totals invariably contain i figures. This is unworthy of us, I have been assurd Monsieur is an artist, and should be judged from a pure artistic point of view. "See his atelier, (who would da call it a shop or work-room?) examine his studies in th rough, unprejudiced by any fear of paying for them; and Monsieur will have one traducer the less. Such are the theories and recommendations of the Comtesse O Tempor and Maréchale O Mores. Would I, if converted, man public renunciation of the normal masculine faith? Na march to Notre Dame in the simple attire (it was but a sheet) of ancient apostates, but, according to that m terrible modern practice, put my recantation into black and white? I would. Monsieur did not receive his car tomers' husbands, brothers, and fathers as a rule; but the Comtesse and Maréchale are all powerful in the atelier, and an exception was made in my favor.

We pass through a double door; we mount a padded staircase, hung with silk, heated like a conservatory pable of raising pines, and smelling of poudre de ra Evergreens to right and left make a dwarf avenue of the staircase. There are flowers in hanging corbels - camellias and lilies; there is an eternal ascending and descending procession of pretty women: briefly, we mount Jacob's ladder. And the ladder leads to pleasant places. On the first floor there is a busy, noiseless coming and going, the flutter and frou-frou of femininity, and still that perfume of flowers that neither sew nor spin, but simply deal at Monsieur Trois-Étoiles', and find that function arduous enough. On either side folding doors were opened wide, and in and out passed young girls, whose figures presented fantastic outlines, being clad in the costumes of six months hence whose heads were strange and wonderful with uppublished chignons. These horribly progressive damsels speeded the parting customers with polite assurances of quick delivery, welcomed the coming with nice little ready made phrases of delight and surprise. The excessive, the hyperbolical was cultivated in speech, as well as in manner and dress. The blondes were too blonde, and made one wink with their splendor; the brunes were too sombre, and depressed the observer. There was no medium between the milkmaid's kirtle and the duchess's train. The skirts had a superabundance of plaits, or none at all. It was a panorama of fashion plates of 1883. In the first saloon sat the secretary, perched on a small platform, and ticking down every visitor that entered, the orders given, and the dates when mesdames must positively have that falbala or this cotillon. Here the Maestro is occasionally to be found bowing in his clients like a prince of the blood royal. Today he is absent en consultation it is whispered.

We traversed three or four large saloons, furnished with a quiet taste that, to some minds, did the great man-milliner rather more credit than most of the garments he has named and patented. Broad oak tables were in the centre of the rooms, and spread out upon them cuttings of pink, green, yellow, and black fabrics, interspersed with delicate laces and exquisite specimens of the artificial floriculturist's art, in garlands, bouquets, and "trimmings." Everywhere the same subdued, decidedly genteel agitation reigned. Ladies

foreigners for the most part, and the noisiest persons present were choosing stuffs and patterns, served by serene, abstracted, and dignified young gentlemen, who made discreet inquiries concerning" the next article," like so many dukes in reduced circumstances. No bustle, no verbosity or insistance.

At times myrmidons came and questioned the young noblemen in rigid frock-coats as to a shade, a measurement, a combination of colors or stuffs, a novelty in trimming, a heresy in shapes; and the youths dropped a brief, dignified, disinterested answer, with the air of splenetic bards divorced from the ideal. And silently to and fro passed the gracious young girls with novel chignons, dressed in black,

AT A MAN-MILLINER'S.

d trailing through the saloons skirts that were veritable odels, practical examples of Monsieur's art. I surmised at a wise trade policy dictated their presence. They ere living temptations for the clientes, plastic realizations what a pair of scissors would make of these cuttings on e tables. By studying those animated and perambulatg canons of taste, the dullest Teuton, the most primitive ansatlantic possessor of newly-struck "ile," could choose er pouff, her bodice, her sash, without thereby exposing erself to the derision of the boulevards. The choice might e rendered quite perfect and Parisian by a consultation ith a formidably dignified lady between two ages, as the rench phrase politely describes the predicament into hich we must all fall unless the gods love us, to whom I as told to bow as the genus loci. But she was frigid. Monieur's establishment is uniformly iced to several degrees elow zero — - and she would have been a more than ordiarily bold Columbian who had dared solicit that ducal ame's advice in the matter of stuffs and façons. She is ue Première, the chief forewoman; a terrible authority, nd a lady whose lessons in deportment would make the ortune of any young ladies' seminary. The hundred ichest wardrobes in Paris have no secrets that she does 10t share. She knows when Lady A.'s green silk was urned; she knows every item on the glove budget of the Princess B. A lady to propitiate.

- not

Monsieur was still invisible. We advanced in search of him into the farthermost saloon, where on wonderfully lifelike manikins are hung the complete toilettes, perfected a day or two ago, and ready for delivery. Monsieur gives his private view no less than the contributors to the Salon, and in a studio that will quite bear comparison with the comfortless barns of the Rue des Martyrs. The walls are one vast sheet of looking-glass, and reflect head, shoulders, and unto the last inches of the trains. From morning to night groups of well-bred enthusiasts collect around the studies, and the fumes of most delicate incense rise into the illustrious Trois-Étoiles' nostrils. The more extravagant costumes are generally labelled for Germany, when not, it must be said, for England. The simple creations quite Arcadian even these! - remain in Paris. They are studied. arranged, worked up like a five-act drama, and cost rather more two hundred francs the stuff, six or eight hundred francs the make, or, as Monsieur's artists say, the composition. The ecstasies excited by these regenerative conceptions are almost delirious: there are breathless fits of admiration, mute rhapsodies before the decorated manikins; everything else has disappeared for the worshippers-waltzes, balls, husbands, children, lovers; the Antinous himself-above all, the Antinous would shrink into insignificance beside those pendent rags. we grope reverently in the plaits to discover how the vaporAnd ous scarf that floats behind is attached under the sash, the primitive raison d'être of the flounce, the secret of the mystic marriage of Epaulette with Bodice. It is enthralling, and quite as intellectual as our daily drive round the Lac. The Première stands before her masterpieces, and modestly receives the felicitations of the spectators. The only drawback to the triumph is that the masterpieces in question cannot go into decent society in the character of their present possessors. La Première feels this sorely; "but then we can see them at the Opera," is the comforting reflection suggested to her. A moving tempest of tulle, Chinese crape, and lace passes before us, borne aloft at arm's length by damsels, who disappear in its clouds. That is Madame O Tempora's dress, and the Comtesse disappears to try it on behind folding doors, through the chinks of which a white vivid light is streaming. We are left during the trying-on process in a genteel chaos of discreet young ladies, clients, and clerks. The Maestro is still invisible, but he is replaced by a young man, small, spare, and active, who dances from point to point in the midst of clerks, customers, fleuristes, show-women, cuttersout, etc., ejaculating orders in dubious French, like a wellbred but epileptic clown.

At last I am informed that the first stages of the tryingon process are over. We can penetrate into the illuminated

101

sanctuary. The sanctuary is rather like the coulisses of a glasses are affixed to the walls. The centre of the room is minor theatre. The windows are bricked up, enormous void; around it on a species of counter, on sofas, chairs, shreds of tulle, spangles, beads: the costumier's room and ottomans, are odds and ends of stuff, flowers, ribbons, before a new ballet or burlesque. A row of footlights fitted with movable shades serves in lieu of chandelier, keeping person and the toilette under examination as they ought to the upper part of the room in shadow, and illuminating the be illuminated in every decent ball room. Here is Madame O Tempora, receiving the shower of electric light, bare necked, though it is not later than 2 P. M. without, with a complacent equanimity that says a good deal for the strength of her nervous system. A young woman is kneeling before her, pinning up an invisible plait in the bodice, festooning a new "effect" (amongst other ameliorations Monsieur has reformed the dress-maker's phraseology; it is now highly artistic and picturesque) at the side. Under the raised arms little girls pass to and fro, handing strips of muslin, flowers, and pinboxes. A shred or flower is taken now and then, and plastered, with the decision of sudden inspiration, on the skirt. It is a dress rehearsal. Three times already the illustrious Trois-Étoiles has been sent for. Three times, with the air of a veteran victor at the decisive moment of a hot engagement, La Première has half opened an inner door to announce that the Maestro is about to appear. He is near at hand, in the next room, bestowing a consultation on a lady with an eyeglass, apropos of a newly-made magnificent costume, which he considers his chef-d'œuvre. He is right. I cast an indiscreet glance into the adjoining room when the door opens, and I must allow that the composition in question is a very poem, a piece of the wardrobe of Utopia. A dress of white fage, ornamented with points de Venise, so intertwined and involved as to make the masculine brain giddy; the corsage is cut square: the whole is rich, and withal simple. It would befit a sofa and novel at home, and not be out of place at the Orleans' garden-parties at Chantilly. The doors open wide, the Maestro appears. pink and white dapper man, with fat and shiny face; his is disappointing, though undeniably Britannic. He is a His person hair parted in the middle; his moustache pendent, and highly oleaginous. A thick white throat inclosed by a fawn-colored ribbon, a tight-fitting frock-coat, a chronic smile, a bow that does not incline his body; these are the descriptive items remarked by a cursory observer of the great Trois-Etoiles. His voice is strong and high; his accent is boldly insular. He looks round with an absent air, then suddenly speaks. He has seen at a glance what is missing in Madame O Tempora's toilette. The train has been drawn out carefully to its full length before his arrival. "What are you thinking of, Esther? Madame's figure must have nothing but draperies. Too low in the neck. An épaulette en biais. hip. Take half that bouquet at the breast away. And do A suçon to the right at the you go to Trouville this year, madame?" easy, assured, and well bred. He has genius of a certain His manner is kind, undeniable tact, and imperturbable sang-froid. And I think he believes in his mission. He will not dress every He would not bestow a glance on those clumsy Germans in the first room. I hear he refuses to make for a certain popular actress, because she does not share his ideas of the capabilities of her figure, and wants her dresses too low. He converses in English with old docile trusted customers like Madame O Mores, and for her he consents to give a little professional exhibition.

one.

A messenger is despatched to remote regions, and presently the folding-doors are thrown open, and two young slight damsel, whom the master calls Mary, a dark-eyed ladies enter, preceding an extraordinary apparition. A English girl, with that indescribable air known as vispa in Italian, lista in Spanish, espiègle or délivré in French, and perhaps "wide-awake" in English, advances erect and haughty, dressed as a rainbow. Like a queen of comedy she places herself in the strong white light of the footlamps. The electric rays smite on multitudinous scales

« ПредишнаНапред »