urrent periods of plenty were both as open as the day.

The "man of law" and Hirschler began by shaking hands, for they were old
acquaintances; it would have been difficult to find a process-server in
Paris who was not an old acquaintance of Dumas. After which the visitor
informed Hirschler that he had come to distrain.

"To distrain? I did not know we had got as far as that," said Hirschler.
"Wait a moment. I must go and see." It meant that Hirschler repaired to
the kitchen, where stood a large oaken sideboard, in a capacious drawer
of which all the law documents, no matter by whom received, were
indiscriminately thrown, to be fished out when the "mauvais quart
d'heure" came, and not until then.

"You are right," said Hirschler, but not in the least worried or
excited, "I really did not know we had got as far as that. I must ask
you to wait another minute. I suppose a third or a fourth of the total
amount will do for the present?"

"Well, I do not know," said the process-server with most exquisite
politeness. "Try what you can do. I fancy that with a third I may manage
to stop proceedings for a while."

The third or fourth part of the debt was rarely in the house; messengers
had to be despatched for it to Cadot, the publisher, or to the cashier
of the _Moniteur_, _Constitutionnel_, or _Siecle_. Meanwhile the
process-server was feasted in a sumptuous way, and when the messenger
returned with the sum in question, Hirschler and the process-server
shook hands once more, with the most cordial _au revoir_ possible.

As a matter of course, the same process-server reappeared upon the scene
in a few months. The comedy had often as many as a dozen
representations, so that it may safely be said that a great number of
Dumas' debts were paid six or seven times over. Even sixpence a line of
sixty letters did not suffice to keep pace with such terrible
improvidence, though the remuneration was much more frequently fourpence
or fivepence. It rarely rose to sevenpence halfpenny, but in all cases a
third went to Dumas' collaborateurs, another third to his creditors, and
the rest to himself.

I have allowed my pen to run away with me. One more story, and then I
leave Alexandre Dumas for the present. It is simply to show that he
would have squandered the fortune of all the Rothschilds combined: I
repeat, not on himself; he would have given it away, or allowed it to be
taken. He had no notion of the value of money. About a year afte