A FUTURISTIC CONTRIBUTION TO CARNIVAL GAIETY The spectacle at Nice is rarely subtle, but always amusing. "What the French can't think of-in the way of great cars topping the roofs" (see text, page 474), mounted groups, and ludicrous figures-leaves little to be desired in the way of mirth-provoking quips and cranks. Just then a bright-eyed girl, showing perfect teeth below a black velvet domino and wearing a pink Pierrot, bombarded my companion's palate with purple confetti at close range (see page 470). The duel with the gendarme had stirred his heart to its task and the confetti almost choked one already disgruntled. As he dashed from my side, I was disloyal enough to suspect that he resented such. saucy impudence. The man would get himself laughed at! He reappeared with a confetti sack whose red cotton strap crossed his breast like a burlesque diplomat's ribbon. The next I knew he and the French girl with the provocative eyes were mixing giggles, while each tried to scatter confetti where the other would be finding it for weeks. After that he was more Norman than Anglo-Saxon. He must have exhausted three pillowcases of ammunition against countless Amazons. Every time I looked at him he was spitting out bright bits of paper, into the swallowing of which he had nearly been betrayed by his boisterous laughter. Color not only suffused his face, but was making inroads on such portions of his polished head as were left uncovered by his velours hat, now most un-AngloSaxonly awry. It was nearly morning before I could lure my roommate back to the hotel, where a scrubwoman, hoarding confetti in one corner of the lobby with a broom, seemed to resent the added treasure which we brought with us. Before he dropped off to sleep he chuckled to himself. Evidently the littered A YOUNG REVELER LIFTS HER MASK This may have been the bright-eyed girl in the velvet domino and pink Pierrot who bombarded the author's companion with purple confetti (see text, page 469). A LITTLE TOUCH OF SPANISH AMONG THE CONFETTI OF NICE Nice's large population of French and Italian descent, augmented by A FLOWER SELLER À LA CARNIVAL This Provençal in the rakish native hat sells some of the blossoms FLORAL AMMUNITION FOR THE FLOWER BATTLE In the glad revolt against routine and boredom, everyone from gray- The crowing cock surmounting each dial is probably not meant to represent the Gallic emblem, but merely the barnyard specimen whose untimely reveilles cause more consternation than merriment to rural sluggards. There isn't any logic in a carnival, anyway! THE DANCE OF THE WEAVERS IN THE CITY OF PERFUME To the stranger the most colorful features of the Riviera's flower battles are the Provençal dances, rendered in native costume to the accompaniment of old songs and choruses. This number at Grasse is similar to that at Vence, and was directed by the same man, acting as the shuttle. |