m of _two francs_.
It is true that the animal has neither symmetry nor blood, but it is the
indigenous pony of these mountains; it is a slow, sure-footed beast, and
it will carry you up and down the steepest hill-side with exemplary
patience and sagacity. Do not lose your own patience, however, if you
mount one of them. They have no trotting, nor galloping, nor any other
pace whatever in them, out of the half-amble half-walk at which they
commonly proceed. But then, they know no better food than
mountain-grass, or the occasional luxury of some chopped straw, and they
will follow you all round the village for a slice of bread held before
their noses. Nevertheless they suit the country; they accommodate the
visitors; and there is not a spare horse to be got in the village by
half-past ten, for love or money.

The day's ramble ended, and dinner duly dismissed, every body--that is
to say, every body who is any body at all--adjourns to the _salle de
reunion_, the large assembly-room built over the baths. This is really a
handsome well-arranged ball-room, full of mirrors, ottomans, and
benches; at one end is a billiard and card room, and behind are rooms
for robing. Here, upon the payment of a napoleon, you have the _entree_
for the season; and here the guests meet, more upon the terms of a large
family than as though they were strangers. Etiquette is relaxed; every
body knows every body. The elder men take to billiards and
_ecarte_,--the graver ladies form into little _coteries_; a younger one
goes to the piano, a circle is made, a romance is sung; and then, as the
strain becomes lighter, the feet beat in sympathy, and the gay quadrille
is formed. At eight or nine o'clock the room is at its fullest; the
village minstrels are called in--some half-dozen violins, a clarionet,
and a cornet; the music becomes louder, the mazy waltz is danced, and
the enjoyment of the day is at its crowning point.

Happy, happy days! still happier, still more delightful nights! No
trouble, no excess--health and cheerfulness going hand-in-hand. The most
refined society in France, and yet the most simple and most unaffected;
good-humour and politeness ruling all things: all calculated for
enjoyment, nought for disquietude and regret!

At eleven o'clock it is understood that every body vacates the room;
and, within half an hour after, not a sound is to be heard in the
village, save the dash of the cascade, and the murmuring of the silvery
Dor.