It was settled most unexpectedly. During my attendance at Law School, Abraham Goldsmith, Wilbur Larremore, son of Judge Larremore, and I used to hold weekly quizzes at my house. In that way I had renewed my friendship with Goldsmith, who had been my classmate in the City College. One evening, early in December, 1878, Goldsmith called and informed me that Samson Lachman and he contemplated starting a law firm. I had always been very fond of Goldsmith, and Samson Lachman had won my unlimited admiration when I listened to his Commencement Day oration and saw him receive eleven prizes, which were about all that one man could take. Hence, Goldsmith found me very receptive, and before we separated that evening, our partnership was an accomplished fact. We both agreed that Lachman was entitled to head the firm. As Goldsmith expressed indifference as to his position, and as Lachman, Morgenthau & Goldsmith sounded more euphonious, that order was adopted. We agreed to start on January 1, 1879. Our average ages were twenty-three. We hired offices at No. 243 Broadway at an annual rental of $400. Our net receipts for the year 1879 were $1,500. Our practice, as well as our income, grew steadily, but I shall abstain from relating many details, as most of the matters involved were not of public interest. A rather interesting affair, because some of the participants are well known to the public, was the dissolution in February, 1893, of the firm of Wechsler & Abraham, of Brooklyn. We represented Wechsler, and William J. Gaynor, afterward Mayor of the City of New York, represented Abraham. Their partnership agreement contained a very peculiar dissolution clause. They were to meet on February 1, 1893, and bid for the business, and a bid was to be final only if the non-bidding partner had failed to increase it during a term of twenty-four hours. When we met, I drew attention to the fact that if we acted under the contract, either side could prolong the matter indefinitely, and recommended that we amend the agreement by reducing the limit to one hour. This was agreed to on condition that both parties would deposit $500,000 as an earnest of their intentions to complete their bid, the unsuccessful bidder to have his check returned to him. Isidor Straus pulled out a certified check of $500,000 and I instructed Wechsler to make out his check. When Wechsler admitted that he did not have that much in the bank, I showed them an underwriting that I had secured from the Guaranty Trust Company and the Title Guarantee & Trust Company, to finance our purchase to the extent of $1,000,000. The auction then proceeded, and both factions were cautiously watching each other. Gaynor, Abraham, and the Strauses several times retired to the other end of the room for conference, Nathan Straus constantly pulling at one of his big cigars and pretending that they had about reached the limit of their bidding. I had arranged