ey know." "Ah!" returns gouty ROBINSON, with conviction, "I never have been to anyone but REM. He's the chap. All the English go to him. Best man in Royat." And if it weren't the hour for one of them to go and drink Eugénie water, and for the other to take his second glass of St. Mart, they would have a row and come to blows.
* * *
PULLER tells me that there's one London Doctor, describing himself as a Gynæcologist ("A guinea-cologist," parenthetically remarks PULLER), who always sends his patients here. I think he says his name is Dr. BARNES. "He sends so many," says PULLER, "that I propose changing the name of the place from Royat-les-Bains into Royat-les-Barnes." I see why he introduced the name of BARNES. Fortunately he is so delighted with this jeu de mot, which I fancy I've heard before, that he is off to tell his friends in the Parc, and, as I pass a group, I overhear him explaining the point of it to a French lady and her husband, with whom he has a speaking ac