"No doubt managers would welcome them with enthusiasm," said Dumas, "and likely enough we shall divert a branch of that Pactolus River which is irrigating the domains of M. Scribe" (1822). Later on in his "Mémoires" he says: "Complete humiliation; we were refused everywhere." [Illustration: STATUE OF DUMAS AT VILLERS-COTTERETS] From Villers-Cotterets the scene of Dumas' labours was transferred to Crépy, three and a half leagues distant, a small town to which he made his way on foot, his belongings in a little bundle "_not more bulky than that of a Savoyard when he leaves his native mountains_." In his new duties, still as a lawyer's clerk, Dumas found life very wearisome, and, though the ancient capital of the Valois must have made an impress upon him,--as one learns from the Valois romances,--he pined for the somewhat more free life which he had previously lived; or, taking the bull by the horns, deliberated as to how he might get into the very vortex of things by pushing on to the capital. As he tritely says, "To arrive it was necessary to make a start," and the problem was how to arrive in Paris from Crépy in the existing condition of his finances. By dint of ingenuity and considerable activity Dumas left Crépy in company with a friend on a sort of a runaway holiday, and made his third entrance into Paris. It would appear that Dumas' culinary and gastronomic capabilities early came into play, as we learn from the "Mémoires" that, when he was not yet out of his teens, and serving in the notary's office at Crépy, he proposed to his colleague that they take this three days' holiday in Paris. They could muster but thirty-five francs between them, so Dumas proposed that they should shoot game _en route_. Said Dumas, "We can kill, shall I say, one hare, two partridges, and a quail.... We reach Dammartin, get the hinder part of our hare roasted and the front part jugged, then we eat and drink." "And what then?" said his friend. "What then? Bless you, why we pay for our wine, bread, and seasoning with the two partridges, and we tip the waiter with the quail." The journey was accomplished in due order, and he and his friend put up at the Hôtel du Vieux-Augustins, reaching there at ten at night. In the morning he set out to find his collaborateur De Leuven, but the fascination of Paris was such that it nearly made him forswear regard for the flight of time. He says of the Palais Royale: "I found myself within its courtyard, and stopped before the Theatre Français, and on the bill I saw: "'Demain, Lundi Sylla Tragédie dans cinq Actes Par M. de Jouy' "I solemnly swore that by some means or other ... I would see Sylla, and all the more so because, in large letters, under the above notice, were the words, 'The character of Sylla will be taken by M. Talma.'"