it, dit-il). He will sell,
moreover, every grain at a hundred sous, and for this great
botanic production he will lay out only fifty centimes.
Hereupon Rollinat asked him naively:--

"Well, why, then, do you not set about it at once?"

To which Balzac replied:

"Oh! because I have so many other things to do; but I shall
set about it one of these days."

Stavenow, in Schone Geister (see foot-note, p. 70), tells an anecdote of
Balzac, which may find a place here:--

One day Balzac had invited George Sand, Chopin, and Gutmann to
dinner. On that occasion he related to them that the next day
he would have to meet a bill of 30,000 francs, but that he had
not a sou in his pocket. Gutmann asked what he intended to do?
"Well," replied Balzac, "what shall I do? I wait quietly.
Before to-morrow something unexpected may turn up, and give me
the means to pay the sum." Scarcely had he said this when the
door bell rang. The servant entered and announced that a
gentleman was there who urgently wished to speak with M.
Balzac.

Balzac rose and left the room. After a quarter of an hour he
came back in high spirits and said:

"The 30,000 francs are found. My publisher wishes to bring out
a new edition of my works, and he offers me just this sum."

George Sand, Chopin, and Gutmann looked at each other with a
smile, and thought--"Another one!"

George Sand to her son; Paris, September 4, 1840:--

We have had here great shows of troops. They have fione the
gendarme and cuisse the national guardsman. All Paris was in
agitation, as if there were to be a revolution. Nothing took
place, except that some passers-by were knocked down by the
police.

There were places in Paris where it was dangerous to pass, as
these gentlemen assassinated right and left for the pleasure
of getting their hands into practice. Chopin, who will not
believe anything, has at last the proof and certainty of it.

Madame Marliani is back. I dined at her house the day before
yesterday with the Abbe de Lamennais. Yesterday Leroux dined
here. Chopin embraces you a thousand times. He is always qui,
qui, qui, me, me, me. Rollinat smokes like a steam-boat.
Solange has been good for two or three days, but yesterday she
had a fit of temper [acces de fureur]. It is the Rebouls, the
English neighbours, people and dogs, who turn her head.

In the summer of 1840 George Sand did not go to