ral. Vauquelin, having made a
calculation of all the lime contained in the oats given as food to a
hen, found a greater quantity of it in the shells of her eggs. So, then,
a creation of substance takes place. In what way? Nothing is known about
it.

It is not even known what is the strength of the heart. Borelli says it
is what is necessary for lifting a weight of one hundred and eighty
thousand pounds, while Kiell estimates it at about eight ounces; and
from this they drew the conclusion that physiology is--as a well-worn
phrase expresses it--the romance of medicine. As they were unable to
understand it, they did not believe in it.

A month slipped away in doing nothing. Then they thought of their
garden. The dead tree, displayed in the middle of it, was annoying, and
accordingly, they squared it. This exercise fatigued them. Bouvard very
often found it necessary to get the blacksmith to put his tools in
order.

One day, as he was making his way to the forge, he was accosted by a man
carrying a canvas bag on his back, who offered to sell him almanacs,
pious books, holy medals, and lastly, the _Health Manual_ of Francois
Raspail.[5]

This little book pleased him so much that he wrote to Barberou to send
him the large work. Barberou sent it on, and in his letter mentioned an
apothecary's shop for the prescriptions given in the work.

The simplicity of the doctrine charmed them. All diseases proceed from
worms. They spoil the teeth, make the lungs hollow, enlarge the liver,
ravage the intestines, and cause noises therein. The best thing for
getting rid of them is camphor. Bouvard and Pecuchet adopted it. They
took it in snuff, they chewed it and distributed it in cigarettes, in
bottles of sedative water and pills of aloes. They even undertook the
care of a hunchback. It was a child whom they had come across one
fair-day. His mother, a beggar woman, brought him to them every morning.
They rubbed his hump with camphorated grease, placed there for twenty
minutes a mustard poultice, then covered it over with diachylum, and, in
order to make sure of his coming back, gave him his breakfast.

As his mind was fixed on intestinal worms, Pecuchet noticed a singular
spot on Madame Bordin's cheek. The doctor had for a long time been
treating it with bitters. Round at first as a twenty-sou piece, this
spot had enlarged and formed a red circle. They offered to cure it for
her. She consented, but made it a condition that the oint