He reproduced the manner of this ragged fashionable, his grotesque calm, his ridiculous dignity; and having induced his fellow-actor, Serres, to get up a like metamorphosis for the part of Bertrand, the piece obtained a marvelous success. The management of the Ambigu, appreciating the service Lemaitre had rendered the theatre, immediately raised his salary to a high figure, and from that day, as the saying is, his fortune was made. Saturday is the usual pay-day in French theatres, and it was one of the first illustrations of the eccentricity of Lemaitre's character that he took a whim to have himself paid every Saturday in silver five-franc pieces. Then throwing over his shoulder the bag of money, he would walk proudly through the crowd which was waiting to see him at the door of the theatre. One of the earliest developments of Lemaitre's independence of spirit and contempt of the honeyed adjectives of critics was displayed in his refusal to pay those amiable taxes which are so much the rule in Paris, if not in all European cities. Generous enough in his own way with the abundant earnings of his art, Lemaitre declined to pay for puffery. A well-known journalist of the time, counting on his success with less eccentric artists, called one day at Lemaitre's residence and suggested that the actor should smooth over the rough places of criticism by a liberal _douceur_. Lemaitre refused. "It is but a small matter to you," said this gentle literary bandit: "a thousand or twelve hundred francs a year--what does so trifling a sum signify to one who has your splendid income? And thanks to this modest subvention you will be constantly well treated in my columns." To which Lemaitre replied, "Monsieur, I will not be eulogized for gold: other eulogies or none." Two days later a slashing article against Lemaitre appeared in the columns over which the blackmailer had control. Lemaitre made no complaint, but knowing that it would not be long ere his assailant would visit the green-room of the theatre according to French custom, he waited in patience. A night or two later the critic appeared. Lemaitre walked up to him, made a low bow, and while the crowd in the green-room were attending to see what would follow, slapped the fellow's face. Naturally, this liberty was resented by the journalist, who struck back at Lemaitre; but the actor, who was gifted with extraordinary muscular power, took both the man's hands in one of his own, and holding him thus, said to the witnesses of the scene, "To-morrow, if it is necessary, I will fight this _miserable_; but before all I desire to treat him in your presence as he merits--that is to say as a vulgar scoundrel." With this he dragged the blackmailer to the door and kicked him out.