makes up his mind to pick out a doctor for his wife, from the first
days of his marriage. So long as his feminine adversary fails to
conceive the assistance that she may derive from this ally, she will
submit in silence; but later on, if all her allurements fail to win
over the man chosen by her husband, she will take a more favorable
opportunity to give her husband her confidence, in the following
remarkable manner.

"I don't like the way in which the doctor feels my pulse!"

And of course the doctor is dropped.

Thus it happens that either a woman chooses her doctor, wins over the
man who has been imposed upon her, or procures his dismissal. But this
contest is very rare; the majority of young men who marry are
acquainted with none but beardless doctors whom they have no anxiety
to procure for their wives, and almost always the Esculapius of the
household is chosen by the feminine power. Thus it happens that some
fine morning the doctor, when he leaves the chamber of madame, who has
been in bed for a fortnight, is induced by her to say to you:

"I do not say that the condition of madame presents any serious
symptoms; but this constant drowsiness, this general listlessness, and
her natural tendency to a spinal affection demand great care. Her
lymph is inspissated. She wants a change of air. She ought to be sent
either to the waters of Bareges or to the waters of Plombieres."

"All right, doctor."

You allow your wife to go to Plombieres; but she goes there because
Captain Charles is quartered in the Vosges. She returns in capital
health and the waters of Plombieres have done wonders for her. She has
written to you every day, she has lavished upon you from a distance
every possible caress. The danger of a spinal affection has utterly
disappeared.

There is extant a little pamphlet, whose publication was prompted
doubtless by hate. It was published in Holland, and it contains some
very curious details of the manner in which Madame de Maintenon
entered into an understanding with Fagon, for the purposes of
controlling Louis XIV. Well, some morning your doctor will threaten
you, as Fagon threatened his master, with a fit of apoplexy, if you do
not diet yourself. This witty work of satire, doubtless the production
of some courtier, entitled "Madame de Saint Tron," has been
interpreted by the modern author who has become proverbial as "the
young doctor." But his delightful sketch is very much superior to the
work wh