supply and raise the prices on what they kept for sale.[21] The consequence was that Paris suffered from a continual dearth of vegetables and fruits.  Statistics published by the United States government showed the maximum increase in the cost of living in four countries as follows:  France, 235 per cent.; Britain, 135 per cent.; Canada, 115 per cent.; and the United States, 107 per cent.[22] But since these data were published prices continued to rise until, at the beginning of July, they had attained the same level as those of Russia on the eve of the revolution there.  In Paris, Lyons, Marseilles, the prices of various kinds of fish, shell-fish, jams, apples, had gone up 500 per cent., cabbage over 900 per cent., and celeriac 2,000 per cent.  Anthracite coal, which in the year 1914 cost 56 francs a ton, could not be purchased in 1919 for less than 360 francs.

The restaurants and hotels waged a veritable war of plunder on their guests, most of whom, besides the scandalous prices, which bore no reasonable relation to the cost of production, had to pay the government luxury tax of 10 per cent, over and above.  A well-known press correspondent, who entertained seven friends to a simple dinner in a modest restaurant, was charged 500 francs, 90 francs being set down for one chicken, and 28 for three cocktails.  The maitre d’hotel, in response to the pressman’s expostulations, assured him that these charges left the proprietor hardly any profit.  As it chanced, however, the journalist had just been professionally investigating the cost of living, and had the data at his finger-ends.  As he displayed his intimate knowledge to his host, and obviously knew where to look for redress, he had the satisfaction of obtaining a rebate of 150 francs.[23]

Nothing could well be more illuminating than the following curious picture contributed by a journal whose representative made a special inquiry into the whole question of the cost of living.[24] “I was dining the other day at a restaurant of the Bois de Boulogne.  There was a long queue of people waiting at the door, some sixty persons all told, mostly ladies, who pressed one another closely.  From time to time a voice cried:  ‘Two places,’ whereupon a door was held opened, two patients entered, and then it was loudly slammed, smiting some of those who stood next to it.  At last my turn came, and I went in.  The guests were sitting so close to one another that they could not move their elbows.  Only the hands and fingers were free.  There sat women half naked, and men whose voices and dress betrayed newly acquired wealth.  Not one of them questioned the bills which were presented.  And what bills!  The hors d’oeuvre, 20 francs.  Fish, 90 francs.  A chicken, 150 francs.  Three cigars, 45 francs.  The repast came to 250 francs a person at the very lowest.”  Another journalist commented upon this story as follows:  “Since the end of last June,” he said, “445,000 quintals of vegetables, the superfluous output of