at twenty-nine francs, and on "small paper" at twenty-four francs. In
1853 the original drawings were bought by one of the Rothschilds for
about 60 pounds; they would now, probably, be worth at least 1,000
pounds. The ordinary copies of the book itself bring about 6 pounds, the
large paper copies about 30 pounds, and a copy in old morocco can hardly
be estimated--you may pay anything for it, as a copy in old calf has sold
for 240 pounds.

Such is the natural history of a book pretty valueless as literature, the
"Fables" of Dorat. In the early edition of "Brunet's Manual," published
in 1821, the large paper copies of the work, with the engravings in the
earliest state, are priced at from fifteen to eighteen francs. These
vignettes had gone out of fashion; they have come in again with a
vengeance. The high prices, eighty or a hundred pounds, are merely the
beginning of what the great collectors are ready to pay, and to do, and
to suffer in the cause of Dorat. In M. Cohen's catalogue of all these
old illustrated books special mention is made of M. Paillet's copy of the
"Fables." It is "a superb example, with all the engravings printed
separately." But M. Paillet describes this specimen far more lovingly.
All the designs are separately printed, and, oh joy! all have all their
margins uncut. The book is "all that man can dream of" in the way of
perfection. Cuzin did the binding, in yellow morocco, tooled with roses
and butterflies. "Reader," cries M. Beraldi, "if you are not a collector
you cannot imagine the difficulty of getting such a copy. It is the
thirteenth labour of Hercules." First you buy your text, then you must
have the separately printed _fleurons_. These can only be picked up here
and there, in sales and stalls. Perhaps you purchase half of them in one
lucky investment. With no great difficulty you secure another lot. Then
begins the hunt--you buy assortments at the price of bank notes, merely
for the sake of two or three out of the mass. You offer to barter twenty-