My Twenty-five Days.

It was the diary of a guest at the watering place, of the last occupant
of my room, and had been forgotten at the moment of departure.

These notes may be of some interest to sensible and healthy persons who
never leave their own homes. It is for their benefit that I transcribe
them without altering a letter.

"CHATEL-GUYON, July 15th.

"At the first glance it is not lively, this country. However, I am going
to spend twenty-five days here, to have my liver and stomach treated, and
to get thin. The twenty-five days of any one taking the baths are very
like the twenty-eight days of the reserves; they are all devoted to
fatigue duty, severe fatigue duty. To-day I have done nothing as yet; I
have been getting settled. I have made the acquaintance of the locality
and of the doctor. Chatel-Guyon consists of a stream in which flows
yellow water, in the midst of several hillocks on which are a casino,
some houses, and some stone crosses. On the bank of the stream, at the
end of the valley, may be seen a square building surrounded by a little
garden; this is the bathing establishment. Sad people wander around this
building--the invalids. A great silence reigns in the walks shaded
by trees, for this is not a pleasure resort, but a true health resort;
one takes care of one's health as a business, and one gets well, so it
seems.

"Those who know affirm, even, that the mineral springs perform true
miracles here. However, no votive offering is hung around the cashier's