If you cannot live without Kissingen you had better take with you the necessary ingredients, and prepare your beverage yourself. Country dispensaries dispense with such drinks.
No gentleman should go out of town without half a dozen high hats, in separate packages. They are just the thing for summer rambles in the woods. But remember to touch your beaver where the hemlock boughs are low. White duck is recommended for travelling suits. If the weather should moderate unexpectedly you can procure caloric at the kitchen fire. The finest kid gloves are to be worn on fishing excursions.
Ladies should have with them as much jewelry as possible, borrowed or otherwise. A few five-thousand-dollar dresses will be appropriate when you go out to see the sun rise. The sun is quite fastidious about such things, and warmly approves an effective toilette.
It will not be necessary to carry with you opera librettos. Any well-regulated country tavern can furnish everything of that sort that you will require.
Have a few billiard-balls in your pocket, however. In cloudy weather you can improvise a game on the dining-room table. Travelling Chinamen will probably furnish you with queues.
If you should be invited to try the fruit of the oak tree, on the theory that it is the American filbert,--very superior,--you can take your friend's word for it, without eating.
Get up early in the morning and go out to shoot Welsh rabbits for breakfast. The exercise will improve your appetite.
Find out all the novelties you can. It is a good thing to watch the black cat fish. Feelin' weary of that sport, you can sit on the rocks and tell the servant to bring you the evening paper on a silver salver.
Observe carefully the auriferous sunsets among the mountains. You will thus be enabled to determine with sufficient accuracy how gold is "closing" in New York.
Finally, write occasional letters to the Evening Babble. If your name is JONES, sign yourself "SENOJ." This thin disguise will be very pretty and will deceive your most intimate friends. Say in your correspondence that the tables of the house where you stay are "loaded with all the luxuries of the season." If convenient, show your letters to the landlord, whisper to him, "JONES fecit," and explain the little joke about the signature. This courtesy may somewhat alleviate your board bill.