But my room at the "Hotel de la Paix" was warm, and I sat over my "Flamme Bleue" all the morning.

After I had been treated with sulphur for "scabies" a couple of weeks, a hole came in my throat just like the one I had on my foot--a white hole with a black band round it, and all the flesh for about six inches beyond it a deep scarlet.

One morning the boy who washed me said: "I beg your pardon, sir, but what are you being treated for ?" "Scabies," said I.
Said he: "Don't say I said so, sir, but show the M.O.that thing on your neck.

You haven't got scabies, and this sulphur will kill you soon." So I waited for the M.O.till he did his rounds.

When he came to me he said the usual, "Everything all right with you ?" "No," said I."I've got a scabie on my neck that is worrying me." So he had a look at it and said: "I don't think this treatment is doing you much good.