File:Hungary (1909) (14783935565).jpg

Identifier: hungary00stok (find matches)
Title: Hungary
Year: 1909 (1900s)
Authors: Stokes, Adrian, 1854-1935 Stokes, Marianne
Subjects:
Publisher: London : A. and C. Black
Contributing Library: Robarts - University of Toronto
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Toronto

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owner,which formed a candelabra, striking, if somewhatbarbaric, in style. At one end of the white room,hung with arms and antlers, was a minstrels gallery,on which were arranged brass hunting-horns, andother spiral instruments of the same metal. Thegramophone behind them, which played huntingtunes after dinner, was out of sight. On my second visit we went out for wild-boar,but failed to find any, though they were known tobe in the part of the forest we went to. A gale ofwind was blowing, and the tree-tops, waving about,made a great noise. It was said to be impossiblein these conditions to drive the beasts with thefew beaters who had been got together at shortnotice, so we adjourned to land under cultivation,and devoted ourselves to shooting pheasants andpartridges for the rest of the day. One day the lady and gentleman from thisplace, happening to be in Kalocsa, were goodenough to take supper with us at the hotel, wherewe were joined by the Waldmeister and a friend A COTTAGE AT ZSDJAR
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KALOCSA, AND ACROSS CROATIA TO FIUME 157 of theirs. The Gipsies came to play, and after supper—there being no other guests present—we danced. Then our friend took the vioHn from the leading Gipsy and played and sang Hungarian music, the Gipsies accompanying him. One song that he sang with much pathos seemed typically Hungarian. We had several times heard it, and my wife asked him to tell her the words, which she felt sure must be beautiful and touching. I think I can turn the refrain into English, he replied; and these are the words he sang : For the running horses,And the pretty wifies.Oh! whatPity grow old.** I have translated it, whispered his wife to theear of mine. Among other things, we remember our last walkwith the Prelate before he left Kalocsa on hisappointment as Bishop of ... . It was a sultryevening, and all around us, far away beyond thegreat teeming plain, huge masses of cumuluscloud towered up. Some were lit a warm rosecolour, fading into silvery greys; others told

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