New Year's Day in Paris, save for those oracular imperial utterances which European statesmen and financiers used to await with nervous anxiety, is, I expect, much the same at present as it was a quarter of a century ago. As at the close of the old year people in England were surfeited with puddings, pantomimes, and Christmas numbers, so at the commencement of the new Parisians were bored with baroques along their boulevards, the étrenne or new year's gift tax, the shadows of former gay bals masqués, shoals of visiting cards by every post, and by having to pay the inevitable round of visits to exacting friends who would otherwise have certainly “cut” them.

People with a large circle of friends were accustomed to lighten the heavy étrenne tax by sending on to B the box of bonbons received from A, and forwarding to A the new year's gift sent by C, while to C was consigned the present which B might have favoured them with. Thus it was no uncommon thing for a box of bonbons or other present to be constantly on the move throughout the 1st., changing hands four or five times and returning perhaps the last thing at night to the very individual who had unconsciously started the game and had given a hundred francs for the étrenne the day before.

A story used to be told of a well-known Parisian viveur, who, on coming home after a round of complimentary visits, found on his table the particular packet of bonbons which he had sent by his valet to a lady of his acquaintance some hours previously.