Nicolas Ravolati. He had taken up his old
trade, that of carpenter. He was working alone at the back of his store.

The old woman opened the door and called:

"Hallo, Nicolas!"

He turned around. Then releasing her dog, she cried:

"Go, go! Eat him up! eat him up!"

The maddened animal sprang for his throat. The man stretched out his
arms, clasped the dog and rolled to the ground. For a few seconds he
squirmed, beating the ground with his feet. Then he stopped moving, while
Semillante dug her fangs into his throat and tore it to ribbons. Two
neighbors, seated before their door, remembered perfectly having seen an
old beggar come out with a thin, black dog which was eating something
that its master was giving him.

At nightfall the old woman was at home again. She slept well that night.

MY TWENTY-FIVE DAYS

I had just taken possession of my room in the hotel, a narrow den between
two papered partitions, through which I could hear every sound made by my
neighbors; and I was beginning to arrange my clothes and linen in the
wardrobe with a long mirror, when I opened the drawer which is in this
piece of furniture. I immediately noticed a roll of paper. Having opened
it, I spread it out before me, and read this title:

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