Mm Vannoy Mont-bars et Md. Ribeaucourt
L’Amant de la Lune
drame en 7 tableaux de
Paul de Kock.
L’Ambigu Comique tous les soirs

For years some unknown person has thus maybe gratuitously advertised the house in question, and his identity is one of the mysteries of Paris. Two well-known Parisian journalists, piqued by the eccentricity of the advertisement, lay in wait one whole night and day for the purpose of discovering its author, but their effort was fruitless. While on the subject of these colonnes, we may note the fact that their exteriors are covered with advertisements, the most conspicuous among them being the bill of fare of the “Dîner de Rocher,” a three-franc ordinary on the Boulevard Montmartre. The interior announcements are not of a nature for publication, and in that respect resemble kindred establishments this side the Channel. Next in importance to the hoardings and “spectacle” columns are the kiosques, in which the newspaper trade of Paris is chiefly carried on. The front is open, with the paper stall before it; but the remaining sides are of coloured glass, and each square contains an advertisement painted or stained upon it, generally in large letters. At night the light in the interior gives the kiosque a very gay and festive appearance. There are various minor methods of attracting public attention practised by the Parisian traders. The managers of the Louvre and Pygmalion, establishments similar to our Shoolbred’s and Meeking’s, give to each of their customers an air balloon with the name of the establishment from which it is issued painted upon it. Thousands of these are constantly bobbing about along the principal thoroughfares. The tickets given to seat occupiers in the public gardens and parks are beautifully illuminated cards covered with trade announcements. Some of the restaurants give each of their lady-customers a fan in summer, which is prettily ornamented with advertisements. At Duval’s famous eating establishments the backs of the bills of fare are sold for a large sum to advertising contractors. It is calculated that this firm issues 30,000 cartes a day. Space will not allow us to enumerate the further thousand-and-one plans—some sensible, some silly—which the Parisians adopt for attracting public attention; we therefore pass on to the last and most important medium for advertisements—the Parisian newspapers. In French journals, as in some English, the réclame, or editorial puff, is eagerly sought after; and for unblushing effrontery in selling their pens to pushing tradesmen, we must yield the palm to our brother scribes across the water. “They order this matter better in France.” Only a short time since M. de Villemessant, the editor of Le Figaro, gave a delightful specimen of the art in his own columns. He commenced by relating the history of the Duke of Hamilton and the sheep’s wool left on the brambles. Then came a long description of the homes of the Highland shepherds, and their spinning wives. The English word “homespun” being thus introduced, the article wound up by advising les gentlemen français to rush to a certain shop in Paris where homespun was sold, and be measured for suits. A few days after the article had been published, its author was sauntering along the Boulevards clad in a homespun suit of the latest cut and pattern.

We present a choice specimen of the réclame cut from the pages of the Parisian gommeux’s favourite journal:—

Le Figaro n’oublie pas que son aïeul était coiffeur, aussi ne dédaigne-t-il pas de parler des chevaliers du démêloir, surtout lorsque ceux-ci se recommandent à l’attention du public par des qualités hors ligne.

Nos lecteurs du quartier de l’Arc-de-Triomphe, y compris les Ternes, l’avenue de l’Impératrice, Neuilly, etc., ne se doutent pas qu’ils possèdent dans leur voisinage, 47, avenue de la Grande-Armée, un expert en fait de coiffures de femmes et d’hommes... Il se nomme Rivals et n’en connait pas (pardon!) pour la dexterité du peigne et la légèreté du rasoir.

Here is another of these exquisite specimens of artistry in puffing. It is from La Vie Parisienne of a short time back:—

—Les voyageurs pour la ligne d’Italie montent en voiture.

—Une minute, sac à papier! je n’ai pas pris mon café.

—Un qui se croit encore au temps des diligence: le chemin de fer n’attend pas.

—N’est-ce que cela, cher? monte dans mon compartiment, et tu n’auras pas à regretter la chicorée du buffet.