_.

In the village there are numerous hotels and boarding-houses, capable of
suiting the pockets and the wishes of all the middling, and even of the
lower classes of society:--but there are three or four principal
houses,--and especially two, reserved for the aristocracy; and here all
the _elite_ of the visitors congregate. We wealthy English may laugh at
the moderate expense for which this kind of thing can be done in France,
but we are not apt to grumble at it when we find it suit our pockets;
and, therefore, take with you at once the description of the kind of
fare you are likely to meet with here, and the amount of damage it will
do to your fortune. In these large hotels, then, which are commodious
houses, a vast number of bedrooms are provided for the guests, and two
good reception-rooms; besides an immense _salle-a-manger_. Some sixty or
a hundred guests can be accommodated in each house, and can sit down at
table together. Breakfast is served between nine and ten,--and a
glorious breakfast it is! All kinds of good things, which an old
_artiste_ from Paris comes down for the season to cook: ending with
fruits of many kinds and _cafe-au-lait_--that Continental beverage which
John Bull can no more imitate than he can the wines of the Rhone or the
Rhine:--in short, 'tis as good a breakfast as they could put on the
table at Verey's. Dinner is ready at six, and maintains its proper
superiority over the breakfast, both in the number of dishes and in the
length of its service. The wines are good, and the fruits delicious, for
they all come from Clermont--whence many a wagon-load of comestibles is
tugged weekly over the mountains to satisfy the exigencies of the
fastidious invalids!

Well: they give you these two glorious spreads, your room, your light,
your linen, and your attendance, for _five francs a-day_.

And how is this day passed? Why, 'tis a true castle of indolence, is
Mont Dor-les-Bains; "a pleasing land of sleepy-head," where every one
follows the bent of his own fancy, and where the only serious occupation
is, to forget all care and to do nothing. After rising from the
breakfast table, parties are immediately formed for the promenade or the
distant excursion; and, for the latter, some two or three score of boys
and girls are stationed on the Grande Place, each in charge of an animal
disguised with the name of a horse, which you hire for the whole day, to
go where, and how far you please, for the enormous su