Investigating in Paris (France) the conditions of charity institutions I
was struck by one particularly funny custom which prevailed in one of
them. After the applicant had been tortured and questioned until he
would prefer death to a renewal of the ordeal he was given as many
packages of chocolates as he had children, chocolate of the best kind,
also a certain amount of meat and bread tickets. On the back of each
ticket was written the stores where he could exchange it for meat or
bread.
One of the investigators, having told me that "they" sold these tickets,
especially the meat tickets, I decided to find out the reason for this.
I stationed myself in a butcher's shop around the Place de la Bastile,
whose name and address was on the back of a ticket. Until 10 A. M. I had
not seen a single ticket coming and I was already drawing certain
conclusions when I saw a woman coming in. She laid down on the table
five francs' worth of tickets and got two francs in exchange. Then
another and another one came and all received forty per cent. of the
value. Why?
The next day I obtained a few tickets myself, and going into another
butcher shop whose address was also marked on the back of the ticket I
ordered four pounds of meat. Politely the man served me, and when he had
tied up the parcel nicely, I tendered him the tickets. The man got red
with rage and brusquely snatched the parcel, put his meat back on the
nails, then, still without speaking a word, only looking daggers at me,
he proceeded to scrape together all the spoiled pieces and bones he
could find. This he weighed, and wrapping it up in a piece of dirty
paper he handed it to me with the remark: "That's good enough for you."
"But, sir," I said, "you get paid for meat and not for scraps and
bones."
"Clear out, clear out, you pauper," he yelled. "What impudence--what
impudence." And to a new customer who had just come in he explained,
"These paupers are getting impossible to deal with."
He pushed me out and I had to get rid of my parcel at the gutter. The
odour of it was sickening. But then I understood why they were
exchanging tickets for forty per cent. of the face value. With the money
thus obtained they could get a piece of meat elsewhere--a piece of meat
that was eatable.
These tickets are paid to the butcher less ten per cent. every first of
the month. Why are tickets given instead of money for meat, for bread?
There must be a reason. There must be some one interested. They are
quite abundantly given. Very little ready cash. Blankets, shoes, aprons,
meat tickets, bread tickets. Then think of the little consideration
shown the feelings of the poor. Why advertise him as a pauper
everywhere, at the butcher's and baker's?
As to the chocolate, I learned that a certain rich lady had bequeathed a
certain amount of money specially for this purpose, namely, that
chocolate of a certain brand should be given to the children of the
poor. The good old lady must have loved sweetmeats herself very much and
she evidently thought that there was no greater misfortune than to miss
the sweet bite. Bless her poor soul!