The working women of Paris celebrated Saint Catherine's Day joyfully yesterday.

Yellow and green, orange-yellow, acid green, or white trimmed with yellow and green, the bonnets of Saint Catherine brightened the streets of Paris yesterday. But were the young girls as cheerful as their bonnets?

One of them, a Red Indian with a milky complexion under her headdress of paper feathers, sketching a dance step in the middle of a mocking group, drew this remark from a spectator:
-Dance today, my girl, you will cry tomorrow.
-And then! asks the Red Indian, will I borrow your handkerchief?

But these isolated dances are rare. The young girls prefer, in groups, to divide the amused crowd that calls out to them. Would to the gods that she would do nothing but that! When night falls, another flood, coming from who knows where, mingles with the laughing and charming flood. There is frightened laughter and shouting and sometimes the sound of a slap, when a scolded Catherinette finds, not without reason, that the fact of having a multi-colored bonnet on her head does not give any thug the right to kiss her.

Around them, however, people murmur: "How they are having fun!" But it seems that this gaiety is too exuberant to be true, too noisy to be profound. Who knows if these twenty-five years proclaimed with great fanfare of hairstyles would not prefer to the annual distractions of the great boulevards the daily asylum and peace of a home?

An air of youth and gaiety floated in the rue de la Paix, the great street of Parisian elegance. Of carnivalesque gaiety, one must admit. We looked at the symbolic bonnets to admire the sumptuous disguises where the fantasy and taste of our "seamstresses" had given themselves over to their heart's content. There were only marquises and marchionesses, pages, dancers, poster babies and dogaresses. Not one who was not in costume. A group of female guards of the seraglio, with high white domed headdresses, adorned with the golden crescent, surrounding a dazzling sultana dressed in silver, caused, among a group of slaves with ochre skin, an enormous sensation. There were even some negresses, real ones perhaps... The street made a big success of a charming group of workers wearing with swagger the becoming costume of American sailors and who strove with a rare conscience to shout: "Hip! hip! hurrah!..." A Chinese scholar or a mandarin, we do not know, in a sumptuous dark blue dress. was very noticed. And a black and red devil, pricking his scantily clad companions with his golden pitchfork, won all the votes.

Flowers fell tirelessly from the enchanted balconies of this enchantment. A few young girls threw cigarettes. The street smelled of orange blossom... Traffic was more than difficult. The crowd gathered on the sidewalks delighted in the pretty and free spectacle. The drivers and their customers took on leaning attitudes. All the faces, stretched out towards the animated balconies, smiled.
Champagne was served in all the workshops and there was wild dancing all afternoon. There were intimate parties in all the fashion houses, some brilliant, others charming, all joyful. The one that brought together, yesterday, at Mme Madeleine Vionnet's, the 46 young apprentices from her professional school had a special character, joyful and solemn at the same time. In fact, prizes were distributed to the winners. Miss Beckmans, president of the workers' union, congratulated them on their stubborn work and the wonderful results. Mr. Dangel, director of the house, on behalf of Mrs. Madeleine Vionnet, who was absent, knew how to say the most flattering words to them and what was not a chore for him embraced the charming young girls: Misses J. Bony, Jeanne Arnoult, A. Chevalier, G. Sally, Linette Theuret, Lucienne Capdeville, Juliette Bocard, Madeleine Boissard, who thus had their little labor party, among the turbulence and gaiety of their pretty comrades. The outings were quite lively. Crazy groups coming from the rue de la Paix, the place Vendôme and the Champs-Elysées mingled with the crowd on the boulevards and performed wild rounds around the amused passers-by. In the evening, the dancing continued and many Catherinettes found themselves at the Foire aux Fiancés, because, you know, you never know...