It is unfortunately true that Dumas is dead. This has been ascertained through the German newspapers. He died on December 5 at the home of his son at Puys, near Dieppe. I am being urged more strongly than ever, to enter the Government. The Minister of Justice, M. Emmanuel Arago, called and stopped to dinner. We talked. Louis Blanc dropped in after dinner. I persist in my refusal. Besides Emmanuel Arago and the friends who usually dine with me on Thursdays, Rochefort and Blum came. I invited them to come every Thursday if we have many more Thursdays to live. At desert I drank Rochefort’s health. The cannonade is increasing. The plateau of Avron had to be evacuated. December 31.--D’Alton-Shée paid a visit to me this morning. It appears that General Ducros wants to see me. Within three days the Prussians have sent us 12,000 shells. Yesterday I ate some rat, and then hiccoughed the following quatrain: _O mesdames les hétaires Dans vos greniers, je me nourris: Moi qui mourais de vos sourires, Je vais vivre de vos souris_. After next week there will be no more washing done in Paris, because there is no more coal. Lieutenant Farcy, commander of the gunboat, dined with me. It is bitterly cold. For three days I have worn my cloak and hood whenever I have had to go out. A doll for little Jeanne. A basketful of toys for Georges. Shells have begun to demolish the Fort of Rosny. The first shell has fallen in the city itself. The Prussians to-day fired 6,000 shells at us. In the Fort of Rosny a sailor working at the gabions was carrying a sack of earth. A shell knocked it off his shoulder. “Much obliged,” commented the sailor, “but I wasn’t tired.” Alexandre Dumas died on December 5. On looking over my notebook I see that it was on December 5 that a large hearse with an “H” on it passed before me in the Rue Frochot. We have no longer even horse to eat. *Perhaps* it is dog? *Maybe* it is rat? I am beginning to suffer from pains in the stomach. We are eating the unknown! M. Valois, representing the Société des Gens de Lettres, came to ask me what was to be done with the 3,000 francs remaining from the proceeds of the three readings of Les Châtiments, the guns having been delivered and paid for. I told him that I wanted the whole amount turned over to Mme. Jules Simon for the fund for the victims of the war. January 1, 1871.--Louis Blanc has addressed to me through the newspapers a letter upon the situation. Stupor and amazement of little Georges and little Jeanne at their basketful of New Year presents. The toys, when unpacked from the basket, covered a large table. The children touched all of them and did not know which to take. Georges was nearly furious with joy. Charles remarked: “It is the despair of joy!” I am hungry. I am cold. So much the better. I suffer what the people are suffering.