We talked a good deal with Mr. Poplington about the hotels of Buxton, and we had agreed to go to one called the Old Hall, where we are now.  There was a good many reasons why we chose this house, one being that it was not as expensive as some of the others, though very nice; and another, which had a good deal of force with me, was, that Mary Queen of Scots came here for her rheumatism, and the room she used to have is still kept, with some words she scratched with her diamond ring on the window-pane.  Sometimes people coming to this hotel can get this room, and I was mighty sorry we couldn’t do it, but it was taken.  If I could have actually lived and slept in a room which had belonged to the beautiful Mary Queen of Scots, I would have been willing to have just as much rheumatism as she had when she was here.

Of course, modern rheumatisms are not as interesting as the rheumatisms people of the past ages had; but from what I have seen of this town, I think I am going to like it very much.

Letter Number Seventeen

[Illustration]

BUXTON

When we were comfortably settled here, Jone went to see a doctor, who is a nice, kind old gentleman, who looks as if he almost might have told Mary Queen of Scots how hot she ought to have the water in her baths.  He charges four times as much as the others, and has about a quarter as many patients, which makes it all the same to him, and a good deal better for the rheumatic ones who come to him, for they have more time to go into particulars.  And if anything does good to a person who has something the matter with him, it’s being able to go into particulars about it.  It’s often as good as medicine, and always more comforting.

We unpacked our trunks and settled ourselves down for a three weeks’ stay here, for no matter how much rheumatism you have or how little, you’ve got to take Buxton and its baths in three weeks’ doses.

Besides taking the baths Jone has to drink the waters, and as I cannot do much else to help him, I am encouraging him by drinking them too.  There are two places where you can get the lukewarm water that people come here to drink.  One is the public well, where there is a pump free to everybody, and the other is in the pump-room just across the street from the well, where you pay a penny a glass for the same water, which three doleful old women spend all their time pumping for visitors.

[Illustration:  Pomona encourages Jonas]

People are ordered to drink this water very carefully.  It must be done at regular times, beginning with a little, and taking more and more each day until you get to a full tumbler, and then if it seems to be too strong for you, you must take less.  So far as I can find out there is nothing particular about it, except that it is lukewarm water, neither hot enough nor cold enough to make it a pleasant drink.  It didn’t seem to agree with Jone at first, but after he kept at it three or four days it began to suit him better, so that he could take nearly a tumbler without feeling badly.  Two or three times I felt it might be better for my health if I didn’t drink it, but I wanted to stand by Jone as much as I could, and so I kept on.