N coming out of the Church of Notre Dame des Champs, on the Boulevard Montparnasse, on any bright Sunday morning, the stranger to Paris is amazed at hearing the Sabbath stillness shattered by a dozen youths who fairly attack the church-goers, thrusting newspapers in their faces and shouting their wares. Surely, thinks the visitor, it is at least another war, and buys a paper, through which he struggles on a hunt for the latest sensation, only to find that he has purchased an ordinary copy of the royalist paper "L'Action Française." Or, on coming up out of the subway at the Porte Maillot at seven o'clock any Saturday evening, you find yourself between the barrages of opposing parties, each furiously endeavoring to save your political morals by selling you his sheet. The average Frenchman, despite the pictures drawn by a certain class of French novel, is a home-loving person. He spends his evenings in the bosom of his family, or sits in the corner of his favorite café, which has come to be a second home to him, chatting or playing cards with his cronies. Theatres, especially since the war, are too expensive for his slim income. Sports and physical culture as the American knows them, as something for every one to indulge in, do not exist for him.

But what the Frenchman does have is his politics. There he finds his intellectual interest, his never-ending material for discussion, his reason for buying the evening paper, and frequently for the lads who sell them their opportunity to blow off considerable quantities of "steam." And how indeed can he escape politics? He is practically Government-owned. If his matches don't strike and they seldom do-it is because of the Government monopoly. If his telephone connection is poor-and it usually is it is because of the Government monopoly. If his father dies in the country, and he cannot learn of the fact until twelve hours later, it is because the Government controls the telegrams and doesn't work after eight in the evening. And so on.

He is always of the opinion, therefore, that, no matter what his ills may be, they arise from the malevolence or the incompetence of politicians. Like the

By GOLDA M. GOLDMAN

The writer, who is English director of broadcasting for the Radio Institute of the Sorbonne, characterizes French politics as "the sport substitute of men and boys, the plaything of the chosen few." This despite nine parties and a passionate general interest in their policies.

citizens of all the countries of the world, he seldom counts his blessings. He is out to fight the Government, being convinced that his party, which is out, would do better were it in. This is many times easier than it would be in the United States, where at the most one must be, say, Democrat, Republican, or Socialist. Mildly speaking, there are at least nine divisions which are political groups of importance in the Senate and the House of Deputies, and the mass of voters, like their representatives, are similarly split up. These groups run as follows: Extreme Right, Royalists; Right, Republican Federation; Center Right, Democratic and Social Republicans; Radicals; Radical Socialists; Republican Socialists; Independent Socialists; Unified Socialists; Extreme Left, Communists.

The

Naturally, these parties overlap considerably, but to think that they have no definite points of debate is not to understand the French mind. The Frenchman is an ardent individualist, and likes to be different from his fellows. wonder is that there are only nine parties! That they are considered also to have wide divergences of opinion is demonstrated by the huge number of newspapers in Paris, each of which has its politics, waiting for the wary and the unwary alike at the Porte Maillot. There is, to begin again at the Extreme Right, "L'Action Française," the lively, Right, "L'Action Française," the lively, satirical organ of the royalists, headed by Léon Daudet, writer and son of Alphonse Daudet, and by Charles Maurras. Swinging across to the opposite side, is the paper of the Extreme Left, the Communist organ "L'Humanité," lurid with full-page, shrieking cartoons. In between these, we have the conserva

tive sheet "Le Figaro;" the evening paper of the "Center" politicians, which is the very good "L'Intransigeant;" the Socialist journals, "Le Populaire" and the trades-union paper "Le Peuple;" and the organs of the Left Wing, which supported Léon Blum, Herriot, and Painlevé at the last elections, and foremost among which is the "Quotidien." There is the solid evening paper "Le Temps," always for the Government, conservative, and scrupulous; the "Journal des Débats," a little more Center, but very serious; "L'Euvre," belonging to the Radical Socialists, against the Government, crying out for the dissatisfied masses. And so it goes, each Frenchman buying the paper whose policy pleases him.

Frequently these papers force action upon the Government, whether it be the Government they support or combat. For instance, "Le Matin," always against the Communists, practically forced the Government's hand when Briand would have temporized in the Rakovsky affair. Rakovsky, the Soviet Ambassador in Paris, signed the manifesto calling upon all soldiers to rally to the Red banner in case of war as against national banners. The Foreign Office suggested that he be recalled, and he wasn't. "Le Matin," guided by the alert Stéphane Lauzanne, talked until Briand had to ask that he be recalled. When Rakovsky finally went off one morning, without so much as a good-by, "Le Matin" put its victory in a nice little box on the first page: "Au revoir, M. Rakovsky. Au plaisir de ne pas vous revoir!" (So long, M. Rakovsky. Here's to the pleasure of not seeing you again!")

HE habit of placing political posters THE all about town shows the interest which the Parisian takes in this matter. Wherever a wooden fence can be found surrounding a building in the making or anything of the sort you will find it plastered thick with propaganda, both Communist and conservative. Perhaps on the same wall there will be one calling upon the Workers of the World to take action on some point, while next to it the Centerists have placed one telling about dreadful conditions in Russia due to Soviet tactics. There is one such

board on the Boulevard des Italiens, where thousands out for a pleasure stroll, or movie and café bound, must pass it on a Sunday afternoon. There is invariably a crowd, reading word for word the frequently long dissertations placed there. The average American would give it a glance, discover it was not news of a prize-fight or new picture, and pass on.

Another very interesting point is the interest which French youth takes in this question, and to appreciate this properly one must understand something of the difference between university life in America and university life in France. The University of Paris unites in its several faculties some thirty thousand students today, and one might reasonably expect a tremendous amount of extracurricula activity. This is not the case, however. I have said that for the Frenchman sports as a pastime for every one do not yet exist. I once asked a Frenchman what he thought of American bankers and lawyers who went off in the afternoon to play golf, and he shrugged his shoulders and replied, "We simply wonder when they work."

Just as the older man has no sport life, so it is very rare with the young men and women. There is practically no athletic association at the University of Paris-no football team, no basketball team, no running, nothing which entices the mass of students. Indeed, there is no gymnasium within college walls, though the Cité Universitaire will have a large athletic field. The French have so far disregarded that side of life. Neither is there a dramatic association, a debating club, a newspaper or literary organ, or any of the other thousand and one groups in which the American college boy and girl find the joy of their four years. And so, just like their

fathers, those boys who in our schools would be full of "college spirit" and the leaders in outside activities here in France are interested in politics. This is where their animal spirits are let loose. They are members of the big Nationalist group, Jeunesses Patriotes, or of the royalist clan.

IT may be as well to say a word here

about this "Action Française" which presents so many unusual features. The only thoroughly well organized group in France, I should say, are the royalists, who make so much noise that an outsider like myself tends to overrate their

found dead in a taxi. The chauffeur said that he had entered it alive and had committed suicide. The father said he had been murdered, and accused the chauffeur of conspiracy with his political chauffeur of conspiracy with his political enemies. At the sensational trial the verdict was returned for suicide. Then the chauffeur sued Daudet for libel, and the father was fined and sentenced to a suspended prison term for saying that his son had been murdered! Although all decently minded persons and practically every newspaper cried out against it, the conviction went through, and last year found Daudet barricaded in the office of his newspaper, while thousands of his youthful adherents patrolled the streets to prevent his being taken to prison to begin the term. Finally, one morning at five o'clock the Chief of Police arrived, with literally hundreds of police, and called upon Daudet from the street to surrender himself and save more bloodshed, which, after a little speech, he did.

It is perhaps because they do get so

When one lives in the constant suspense which accompanies frequent bloodless Cabinet revolutions, for example, it is hard to grow disinterested. The Daudet affair did not stop there, to the pleasure of the public, for the chief act in the tragi-comedy had not been played. It became apparent that public opinion was so strongly against the Government action in imprisoning the royalist leader that he would shortly be pardoned, but his young friends would not wait for so prosaic an event. One noontime they occupied all the telephone booths in the Ministry of the Interior, while one of their number telephoned to the director of the prison telling him to free Daudet quickly and quietly, so as to avoid any scene. The director had been expecting such an order, but to make sure he telephoned back. The only free phone was that where the conspirator was placed, so the prison chief talked to the same person, who reaffirmed the order. With tears of joy in his eyes, Léon Daudet learned that he was free and that a car was waiting for him. And when he had been driven away he found he had been liberated by a trick, and was whisked away into hiding, from which he only emerged after crossing the Belgian border. You can have no idea of the delighted enthusiasm with which the French populace followed the acts in this drama which was played at the expense of the authorities. Now Daudet continues to write for his paper and addresses his assembled adherents by radio!

It is easy to see, therefore, why youth, which ever loves a thrill, swells the ranks of the "Action Française" to battle with the legions of the Jeunesses Patriotes, even though as, a matter of course, they would not know what to do with a king if they had one. I know, since the young folks of all classes of society are attracted to this spirited organization, a young man who delivers papers who is also a Camelot du Roi, as they are called. He wears dirty linen and seldom washes his hands, but he wears a broadbrimmed black hat and carries a stick with an air. Perhaps he is carrying over some ideas from his evening job as waiter and chanteur in an old cabaret, where he dresses in doublet and hose and sings songs of the forgotten centuries. He probably thinks all life would be one sweet old song.

there any college in the United

are never in power, their allegiance to

candidates are Republicans or Democrats? Yet all elections at the Sorbonne depend upon that question rather than upon, "Shall there be an honor system?" or "Shall the students own and operate motor cars?" And again, like their parents, the students are convinced that all their ills come from the Government. I have seen hundreds of students waiting for the results of the bachelors' examinations crowding the streets about the Sorbonne and shouting wildly, while police reserves were called out. And because the posting of the results was an hour or two late they were shouting, not, "Where is the Dean?" or "Send out the professors!" No, indeed. They were shouting: "A bas Herriot! A bas Herriot!" ("Down with Herriot!"-the Minister of Public Instruction.)

As

Despite all this show of interest, one is surprised to find that the Frenchman votes very seldom and has comparatively little authority as a citizen. Elections. are not a yearly occurrence, as with us, when there is always some one to vote for. They come every four years, and all the important officials are appointive rather than elective, or are elected indirectly instead of by the people. briefly as I can make it, here is the outline of the voting powers: The country is divided into departments, corresponding roughly to our States, and the departments are subdivided into arrondissements, corresponding to our counties. Then there are the cities, or communes. The voter elects the municipal councilors, the arrondissement councilors, the general councilors (department), and the Deputies, or members of the lower house of Parliament.

The commune is governed by a mayor elected by the municipal council. The arrondissement is governed by a subprefect, and the department by a prefect, both appointed by the Minister of the Interior. The country is governed by the Chamber of Deputies, elected by the people; by the Senate, elected by the general and arrondissement councilors and by the Deputies; by a President, elected by the Parliament; and by a Cabinet, appointed by the President on parliamentary majority indications. Since Parliament, disputing with the Ministers, can cause their being changed, since a change of Ministers can cause a

change of prefects and sub-prefects, and so on all down the line, it is quickly seen that there are few civil officers who are responsible to the people. It is even possible, for that matter, to remove a President, as was done in the startling

who have no politics. He presents himself as a candidate, not as a party candidate, and he governs France in the same way. He says he has no time for politics! He says he has no time for politics! Whether the French learned their lesson from two years ago that fateful summer when their politicians played with the security of the country, each trying to get the power into his own hands instead of trying to stabilize the Government-remains to be seen. Although the foolish things done constantly by the mass of voters makes one question daily the wisdom of the democratic ideal, perhaps it would be better if the French elected more of their officials directly, and so had them in hand; for certain it is that with all his passion for the question of government, the French citizen has very little to say about how it shall be conducted, and the score of important men of the various parties can too easily jeopardize the country's security for their personal ends. There is a great mass of eligible French who never exercise their voting privilege, and it is largely because of this defect in their electoral system which causes them to

feel that their votes are wasted and ineffective.

It would be hardly fair to conclude such a discussion without a word concerning the attitude of the Frenchwoman. Admittedly, France is the last country in Europe to consider woman's rights. I quote from an article in "Le Temps:" "We are, as far as concerns the legal status of women, the most backward people in Europe. The French woman is always a minor; she battles, without great hope so far, for the vote and eligibility; she cannot dispose of her goods without the consent of her husband, nor get a passport without authorization; her children do not belong to her, and she cannot, alone, assure them a regular situation. In short, one wonders at her patience in still supporting such subjection, and the indifference with which feminist propaganda is thrown at us. In truth, the French women hardly interest themselves in their rights, and scorn the question of their legality."

These words of M. Gaston Rageot sum up fairly well the present situation. There is a feminist organization that has accomplished much, with no resort to militaristic methods, but perhaps that has been facilitated by the fact that they are arguing for what has already been accomplished in other countries. As in other twentieth-century innovations, the French are slowly following in the wake of modern women's rights. M. Poincaré has declared himself frankly for the vote for women, but the men are much frightened by the idea that they may soon have women councilors seated side by side with them, and one Deputy has suggested that the women should elect a municipal council of the same size as the men's and do all their discussion therein -the only difficulty being that their decisions are to be considered if the gentlemen choose!

As a matter of fact, the average Frenchwoman takes the attitude that has made the French salon famous. She

is interested and intelligent in political matters, and she understands perfectly that by exercising her charms she can control politics all she wishes without the trouble of going to the polls. She rebels against her subjection in financial matters, for example, but otherwise she is little disturbed.

Politics will undoubtedly remain as they are in France for a long while to come-the sport substitute of the men and boys, and the plaything of the chosen few.

T

HIS month of June on the Thames and the Hudson will be unusually trying for the college rowing coaches and for the oarsmen themselves, because of the double objective the four-mile race and the shortdistance try-out for the Olympic selection to be held on the Schuylkill course the first week in July. Massachusetts "Tech," having finished competitive rowing for the season, is out of the picture; but, in spite of the results of the carly season, in which, for instance, Princeton was a severe disappointment, there is hardly one of the college Varsity eights that will admit the certainty of a closed door to the Amsterdam adventure. The reason for this is the fairly even spread of remarkable rowing material and the reasonably standardized methods employed in stroke and rigging.

Yet there are certain eights that swing into this June stretch richer than others in possibilities and prospects. First comes Harvard, one of the heaviest and most powerful combinations that ever sat a race boat. The Crimson already has shown a terrific racing punch at the short distance, and will be favored for the four-mile affair, both because of that punch and the plainly evident power and experience. It is a precedent-breaking organization in many ways, and I say organization advisedly, for, despite the remarkable precision of effort, Harvard's

Wine World

By HERBERT REED (Right Wing)

Varsity is not to be considered as a mere machine. It has proved, too, that men above 190 pounds can "pull their weight" and more, when properly boated. It has proved that it can take some of the pulling burden off Jack Watts at stroke so that he can concentrate on racing generalship without worrying about the "pile in front of the oar," and it has been enriched by a string of victories as a "front-racing" crew, which is an inestimable advantage in the twocrew contest or contests to come. Further, it is in the hands of Ed Brown, a coach who has shown the rare ability to conserve that cherished individualistic tendency of all Harvard athletes, and at the same time produce a team. That is indeed a remarkable achievement. No doubt the Crimson coach will lengthen the stroke somewhat for the long pull without letting go of any of the spurting ability in the high thirties so extremely necessary this season. Certainly there is nothing left to be desired.

Next-Yale. Here is another unbeaten eight with a rather different history and background, but undoubtedly a smashing good one in the making. Ed Leader fooled some of the experts not too familiar with his methods in the very

first race. The New Haven coach con

tinued experimenting up to almost the last moment before the first public apof his crew. pearance That always means that he knows he has something and will risk a lot of changes in order to put together as nearly perfect a combination as possible. It was a boat-load of blasé veterans that was beaten last year. It does not mean that he is in desperate mood. When his winning march was halted last year, it did not mean that he had a poor crew. He has never had such a thing since he took hold at Yale. And I think it will be found that he has something exceptional in hand this year.

The choice of Tappen at stroke turned out to be a happy one. Leader and his chief aide, Murphy, have a happy faculty of bringing out these last-minute wonders. The average follower of Yale eights is not prepared for their sudden advent because he has not been out with the coach day after day. If he had been, he would have learned that these marvels had simply been cases of promising men who had the happy faculty of "taking coaching" and of suddenly realizing on it almost overnight. That is one of the secrets of Leader's success. I have no doubt that there is to be a great four-mile race at New London. There will be more to say about it on the eve of the event.

Let us turn now to the Hudson. Unless something unforeseen turns up in the meantime, there is not much doubt that young Dick Glendon's Varsity, experienced and well together behind the stroking of Eric Lambart, will be widely favored when it goes to the mark. Illnesses and other mishaps delayed the crew in striking its real gait, but once the Childs Cup was impressively won the crew began to show something of the qualities that made it famous a year ago. It is a big, strong, well-paced, fast crew, and should be quite as good as a year ago. Because of the considerable "layback" with plenty of shoulder on the sweeps at the finish of the stroke, it looks more like an English university crew than any of its American contemporaries. What it needs now is mostly mileage, which should be forthcoming in the period of preparation at Poughkeepsie if the weather is at all favorable.

At the beginning of the season it was expected that the elder Glendon would

restore the prestige of victory to Annaprandolis. But there had been a hiatus in his coaching there, and there were various mishaps that made the revival even more difficult, so that at this writing the makeof the first Varsity is unsettled. Without disparaging the work of young Butler from Washington, who was in charge a year ago, last year's eight had a hybrid style-something left over from Glendon, and something from the Washington school grafted on. It was thereTfore disappointing, although the loss of a veteran No. 7 at the last moment undoubtedly upset the machinery considTerably. So the veteran coach has something of a task on his hands. If he man ages to shake his boat-load down to his own famous style, then it will be very much in the hunt over the PoughkeepsieHighland course, but not otherwise. There is a chance that seems to be the situation just now.

California and Washington, the latter with stowed-away mileage of rowing on lake water, look like prospects for the first division at Poughkeepsie, just as they were a year ago. California beat Washington under the new coach, Ulbricksen, on home waters, and that was an impressive achievement for young Ky Ebright, the coach and former Washington coxswain. Ebright now has

system working extremely well. The best of material also is available. And I am inclined to think that Ebright is in position to offer his men a chance at the Olympic try-out, win or lose at Poughkeepsie. If that is so, he has golden bait for the Golden Bears. From what I have seen of his crews, Ebright has kept the stroke as close to the old Washington standards in the matter of detail as any

tell much about his prospects at Poughkeepsie. Pennsylvania fared none too well in the early races, which may mean much or nothing. It can at least be said that his Varsity showed steady improvement. Comment on other crews and the American Henley must be reserved foranother issue.

ONE of the great runners of all time

has captured the Long Beach Marathon and will undoubtedly head the selection for the American team that will travel the long route at the Olympics. For years Joie Ray was our greatest miler, and equally our most insufferable athletic personality. But the genius that changed almost overnight from a miler that seemed to have run his course to a sensational Marathon trial winner has also changed overnight to a superb egoist. A great racing head and a great racing heart have put him beyond all criticism. Should Joie come out tomorrow with the statement that he was the reincarnation of Pheidippides, there probably would be none to dispute him. If, which is more likely, he should inquire, "Who was this guy Pheidippides, anyhow?" the athletic world stands ready to assure him that he was no Joie Ray, no matter what else he might have been. In the course of chaffing, however, it might be wise to consider the wonder of the man's style. For myself, I prefer to think of him as a reincarnation of Willie Day. Only the very oldtimers will remember this famous little star who covered the ground like a blown soap-bubble. To compare Joie's style with Day's is the greatest praise of which I am capable.

Underwood & Underwood