Punch & Judy

In the Luxembourg Gardens, close by the alley where bad-tempered old gentlemen play frenzied croquet every Sunday, a new Punch & Judy show was operating last week with the consent and approval of the Senate of the French Republic. For years the root-te-tooting of the Luxembourg's Guignol has been supplied by a marionettist known as M. Brioche. Recently elderly M. Brioche rang down his little curtain for the last time and died.

The Luxembourg Gardens, once the gardens of sour-faced Marie de' Medici, do not belong to the City of Paris, but to the State. It is the duty of the Senate, which meets in Marie's palace, to decide whether pink or orange dahlias shall be planted in the garden beds, who shall sell gaufres (waffles) and lemonade, and whether or not the renter of toy boats shall be provided with a burglarproof shed.* A month ago, therefore, contestants for the Guignol concession, vacant since M. Brioche's death, were solemnly called before the Bar of the Senate. Five applied, three defaulted, only two were heard. At the last minute the competitive performance was moved from the Senate Chamber itself to the large private offices of Senator Labrousse. A committee of three senators acted as final judges. The jury was composed of the young children of Senators and their friends, aged four to twelve. As many other Senators as could crowded into the back of the hall.

Two Punch & Judy theatres were set up by tail-coated, gold-buttoned lackeys. The contestants appeared: a M. Jane, a M. Robert Desarthis. M. Jane, a modernist, introduced into his performance such persons as Charlie Chaplin and Bicot, the French cinema comedian. MM. les Senateurs and their children would have none of him. Puppeteer Desarthis, an entrepreneur who had already had many a successful season farther south in the Pare de Montsouris, triumphed.

He gave an elaborate show. He hao two assistants. His puppets were specially carved by Barna de Toth, and embraced such additional personages as Puss in Boots, Hop-O'-My-Thumb, Red Riding Hood, and some fearsome Calabrian brigands. After the trial the Government provided hot chocolate and cakes for the jury. Senators were comforted with the thought that the combined ages of M. Descarthis and his young assistants did not total 60. The Guignol problem of the Luxembourg Gardens had probably been solved for another 30 years.

*Seldom has the Parisian Press been so excited about a crime as it was last summer when a hard-hearted criminal stole all the toy boats from the Luxembourg basin.

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