Persons who rescue others from drowning at Paris receive from some public fund, either police or municipal, a reward of twenty francs (16s. 8d.) I have been credibly informed that it is not an infrequent arrangement between two scamps, that one is to fall into the river, and then the other takes a heroic plunge, seizes the sinking victim, and emulates the skill and courage of Cassius, when, "from the waves of Tiber he bore the troubled Cæsar." But the modern Cassius and Cæsar, if the reward is attained, devote it to a gastronomic sacrifice, and feast sumptuously on what was so nobly acquired. A young female on the Quai Voltaire, having excited suspicion by falling too frequently into the river, was told that no reward would be given for any future salvage; consequently the subsequent wettings of her garments were reserved for the washing tub.
TREES AND FLOWERS.
Perhaps the most general taste in France, amongst all classes and conditions of people, is for ornamental trees and flowers; you see them everywhere. On the Boulevards you find rows of the Oriental plane, acacia, horse-chestnut, hickory, catalpa, maple, and various other trees. Every nook or corner, not required for some industrial or domestic purpose, is planted. The yards of horse repositories or forges have trees or scandent plants trained on the walls; and in private residences, and the enclosures belonging to public offices, trees and flowers abound. Balconies and window-stools display boxes and flowerpots wherever the aspect is favorable; and even in northern aspects the hardy ivy is encouraged to push its verdant tendrils. In the palatial gardens and public parks, Flora appears to be not merely the presiding, but the monopolising deity. Great care is bestowed on the cultivation of those places; but it is worthy of remark and imitation on the part of strangers, that where an enormous population have free access, without any distinction of age or class, no trespass is committed—the blossoms are unplucked, and the boughs unbroken. Flower shows are very frequent in Paris, and are always certain of attracting a numerous and fashionable assemblage. I have attended on many such occasions; and my candid judgment of the gardens and horticultural exhibitions I have seen is, that profusion and mediocrity appear to be their leading characteristics. I can freely and fairly acknowledge that many of the choicest productions of our gardens, our best fruits and finest flowers, have been originally derived from France; but our cultivation, whether of trees or plants, results in a decided superiority. However, I have seen a vast deal worthy of admiration in their horticulture, and I hope that speedy improvement will attend their future labors. I shall now close my horticultural remarks with an anecdote which I ascertained to be strictly true.
A PRETTY THIEF.
In 1864 there was a show of fruits and flowers in the Rue de la Chausée-d'Antin, and the proprietor of a suburban nursery exhibited a collection of orchides, grown and blown to perfection. One flower was of surpassing size and beauty, and was deservedly considered the gem of the exhibition. On the second day, a young woman of prepossessing appearance, whose attire and manner indicated that she belonged to the industrial class, appeared to be quite enchanted by the splendid orchis, and her encomiums, and perhaps her good looks, attracted the attention of the exhibitor. He paid her some gallant compliments, and ventured to inquire her name.
"Monsieur, it is in the catalogue."
"Then, Mademoiselle, it must be 'Rose;' you are indeed worthy of the same designation as the pride of our parterres."
"Monsieur is right in his conjectures as to my name, but he is mistaken in the comparison by which he compliments me so greatly."
"May I presume, to ask where Mademoiselle resides?"
"I live, Monsieur in the Rue d'Amsterdam, No. —."