Will you go to the sea? - Yes, at Paname-Plage

Who was calling for the creation of Paris-Plage? It's been done, and for a long time. How did I know? Oh ! quite simply.

Two kids in Poulbot were chatting on Place Saint-Michel, around 6 o'clock in the evening.

—Are you coming there? asked one. - Where ? - At the sea ? - Sometimes !

And I followed the two kids who unknowingly took me in front of Notre-Dame. Arriving there, we went down to the bank pleasantly shaded by large devil trees, which stretched their branches towards the murky water because they were dying of thirst.

Ah! the charming spectacle! Other kids, their pants pulled up to mid-thigh, were splashing in the calm water, while low-cut workers like luxury chickens were stretching out their muscular anatomy on the hot stone.

The two kids at Poulbot were dressed in sea bathing gear (or almost).

“It’s just like in Deauville,” said one. “Minus the tide,” observed the other. — What do you say, Bille-en-Tête!

— What, “that I say”, Pipe-en-Bois?

— Nature!.. The “fluxque” and the “refluxque” we have it too... when the riverboats pass through it!

The bank of the Montebello quay was now teeming with regulars. Some had brought folding bags; others, their dinner. Here a plumber sang that his parents had come to pick him up, while further away two little girls danced “La Java”.

Leaning against a tree, a haired designer was sketching, near him, a bald poet (yes, bald) was writing. I passed behind him and read: It was on the quay of Montebello that I saw the water coming up!

I didn't insist. A cry had just been uttered: How long does this guy take? It's been a quarter of an hour and all we see is his hair. We were alarmed but we understood: the black ball was not a hairy skull, but a punctured poodle's belly.

And the sun also came to take its daily bath in the Sea of Paname.

JEAN DES FAUVETTES