fellow, we must admit, my friend), he with his soft
voice, 'Monsieur,' said he, 'that your dress may fit you well, it must
be made according to your figure. Your figure is exactly reflected in
this mirror. We shall take the measure of this reflection.'"

"In fact," said D'Artagnan, "you saw yourself in the glass; but where
did they find one in which could see your whole figure?"

"My good friend, it is the very glass in which the king sees himself."

"Yes; but the king is a foot and a half shorter than you are."

"Ah! well, I know not how that may be; it would no doubt be a way of
flattering the king; but the looking-glass was too large for me. 'Tis
true that its height was made up of three Venetian plates of glass,
placed one above another, and its breadth of the three similar pieces in
juxtaposition."

"Oh, Porthos! what excellent words you have command of. Where in the
world did you make the collection?"

"At Belle-Isle. Aramis explained them to the architect."

"Ah! very good. Let us return to the glass, my friend."

"Then, this good M. Voliere--"

"Moliere."

"Yes--Moliere--you are right. You will see now, my dear friend, that I
shall recollect his name too well. This excellent M. Moliere set to work
tracing out lines on the mirror with a piece of Spanish chalk,
following in all the make of my arms and my shoulders, all the while
expounding this maxim, which I thought admirable: 'It is necessary that
a dress do not incommode its wearer.'"

"In reality," said D'Artagnan, "that is an excellent maxim, which is,
unfortunately, seldom carried out in practice."

"That is why I found it all the more astonishing when he expatiated upon
it."

"Ah! he expatiated?"

"Parbleu!"

"Let me hear his theory."

"'Seeing that,' he continued, 'one may, in awkward circumstances, or in
a troublesome position, have one's doublet on one's shoulder, and not
desire to take one's doublet off--"

"True," said D'Artagnan.

"'And so,' continued M. Voliere--"

"Moliere."

"Moliere, yes. 'And so,' went on M. Moliere, 'you want to draw your
sword, monsieur, and you have your doublet on your back. What do you
do?'

"'I take it off,' I answered.

"'Well, no,' he replied.

"'How no?'

"'I say that the dress should be so well made that it can in no way
encumber you, even in drawing your sword.'

"'Ah, ah! throw yourself on guard,' pursued he.

"I did it with such wondrous firmness that two panes of glass burst out