, and which has a great pavilion as
its open-air dining-hall, you are likely to find most of the people,
English and American, whose movements are recorded in the society
papers, taking their mid-day meal. The American millionaire at
Carlsbad, however, fares just as simply and just as cheaply as does any
half-pay captain, for Dr. Krauss and Dr. London are no considerers of
persons in their dieting.

In the afternoon, about five o'clock, all the world goes to one of the
cafes in the valley to listen to a concert and to drink hot milk; and in
the evening a meal, as simple as dinner has been, is eaten. This is the
hour to see Pupp's at its best. In the little grove of trees before the
house, where the big band-stand is, there is an array of tables, each
with its lamp upon it. In the outside verandah of the great restaurant
there are more tables, and inside the glazed verandah and in two long
rooms, each rising a step above the other, are a host of people supping.
The scene is like some great effect at a theatre, and I know nowhere
where one can find any restaurant shining with light as Pupp's does on a
summer night. The restaurant in the Stadtpark is always crowded when the
band plays there, but the attendance is very hurried and casual, and
contrasts badly with Pupp's and the other first-class restaurants. At
the two Variety Theatres in the lower town one can, by booking a table
in advance, sup fairly comfortably, and listen while one sups to a very
good variety entertainment.

At Gieshuebl, where Herr Mattoni makes a fortune by bottling the spring
water, and which is little more than an hour's drive from Carlsbad,
there is an excellent restaurant where the fare is the same as that
found in Carlsbad.

Marienbad

All that I have written of Carlsbad, concerning its food and drink,
applies to Marienbad. There is the same freedom as to dining-places, and
on a sunny day a man will take his meal in one of the creeper-grown
bowers which are erected on the edge of the park by the hotels which
face it, or at the Kursaal garden. On a dull day he will dine at
Klinger's, the house which has a special celebrity, but which, with its
rather stuffy rooms and its much ornamented plate-glass windows, which
never seem to open quite wide enough, is pleasanter on a cool day than a
hot one; or at the New York, which has its rooms ornamented after the
style the Parisians call "the New Art."

There are several good restaurants in the env