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The Man That Corrupted Hadleyburg and Other Stories

At The Appetite-Cure
This establishment's name is Hochberghaus. It is in Bohemia, a short day's journey from
Vienna, and being in the Austrian Empire is of course a health resort. The empire is made
up of health resorts; it distributes health to the whole world. Its waters are all medicinal.
They are bottled and sent throughout the earth; the natives themselves drink beer. This is
self-sacrifice apparently--but outlanders who have drunk Vienna beer have another idea
about it. Particularly the Pilsner which one gets in a small cellar up an obscure back lane
in the First Bezirk--the name has escaped me, but the place is easily found: You inquire
for the Greek church; and when you get to it, go right along by--the next house is that
little beer-mill. It is remote from all traffic and all noise; it is always Sunday there. There
are two small rooms, with low ceilings supported by massive arches; the arches and
ceilings are whitewashed, otherwise the rooms would pass for cells in the dungeons of a
bastile. The furniture is plain and cheap, there is no ornamentation anywhere; yet it is a
heaven for the self-sacrificers, for the beer there is incomparable; there is nothing like it
elsewhere in the world. In the first room you will find twelve or fifteen ladies and
gentlemen of civilian quality; in the other one a dozen generals and ambassadors. One
may live in Vienna many months and not hear of this place; but having once heard of it
and sampled it, the sampler will afterward infest it.
However, this is all incidental--a mere passing note of gratitude for blessings received--it
has nothing to do with my subject. My subject is health resorts. All unhealthy people
ought to domicile themselves in Vienna, and use that as a base, making flights from time
to time to the outlying resorts, according to need. A flight to Marienbad to get rid of fat; a
flight to Carlsbad to get rid of rheumatism; a flight to Kalteneutgeben to take the water
cure and get rid of the rest of the diseases. It is all so handy. You can stand in Vienna and
toss a biscuit into Kaltenleutgeben, with a twelve-inch gun. You can run out thither at any
time of the day; you go by phenomenally slow trains, and yet inside of an hour you have
exchanged the glare and swelter of the city for wooded hills, and shady forest paths, and
soft cool airs, and the music of birds, and the repose and the peace of paradise.
And there are plenty of other health resorts at your service and convenient to get at from
Vienna; charming places, all of them; Vienna sits in the centre of a beautiful world of
mountains with now and then a lake and forests; in fact, no other city is so fortunately
situated.
There is an abundance of health resorts, as I have said. Among them this place--
Hochberghaus. It stands solitary on the top of a densely wooded mountain, and is a
building of great size. It is called the Appetite Anstallt, and people who have lost their
appetites come here to get them restored. When I arrived I was taken by Professor
Haimberger to his consulting-room and questioned:
'It is six o'clock. When did you eat last?'
'At noon.'
 
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