sells for a franc the package in Paris may be had in St. Pierre for half the amount, unless the supply is low, when a bounty of ten or twenty centimes is asked until a ship comes in.
We found stores lacking certain stocks because of the loss of the Marie-Amélie, which had sailed from France with the spring orders of the island merchants and had disappeared with its crew—had never reached its haven. A favourite brand of cigarettes, the Elegantes Jaunes, were wanting—"Je regrette, Monsieur—la Marie Amélie, vous savez—" And the re-order had not yet arrived. So every one smoked something else until shelves could be replenished. There was a certain kind of silk. We searched for it in the tidy shops, but always came the answer, "Ah, yes—there should be bolts of it—mais, la Marie-Amélie . . ."
It was the same with French biscuits at Madame Littaye's whose establishment is a little Louvre from perfume to hats; and with Fourteenth of July lanterns at Monsieur Briand's, who makes photographs, besides selling butter and Algerian wine; and with the buttons needed for a coat. The loss of the Marie-Amélie affected rather keenly our shopping tours. But increased, also, the sense of romance and tragedy which pervades isolated St. Pierre.
