. Hungary. found a piano in an empty roomhard by, played Hungarian music full of fire andpathos. One of the stories that amused us—though mostof its effect depended on the excellent mimicrywith which it was accompanied—was this : Twosolemn and very aged monks, who were stayingat one of the many watering-places of Hungary,met in the bath, immersed in warm water up totheir beards. The ceremony of mutual introduc-tion over—each having mentioned his name andrank—one asked the other: Are you from thediocese of Gyulafehervar ? The other, turninghis head in a leisurely manner from side to side,snappe
. Hungary. found a piano in an empty roomhard by, played Hungarian music full of fire andpathos. One of the stories that amused us—though mostof its effect depended on the excellent mimicrywith which it was accompanied—was this : Twosolemn and very aged monks, who were stayingat one of the many watering-places of Hungary,met in the bath, immersed in warm water up totheir beards. The ceremony of mutual introduc-tion over—each having mentioned his name andrank—one asked the other: Are you from thediocese of Gyulafehervar ? The other, turninghis head in a leisurely manner from side to side,snapped out emphatically: Nem / (No). There was silence for a time, and then the firstcontinued : Are you from the diocese of Szekes-fehervar V To the same slow movement came theanswer : Nem / With a pause between each question, the in-quirer continued: Are you from the diocese ofNagy varad V Nem / Are you from the diocese of Kalocsa VNemf Are you from the diocese of Szatmar-Nemeti V ALL SOULS DAY, DESZE. ESZTERGOM (GRAN), BUDAPEST, AND BAGS 249 Then, slowly moving his head up and down, thequestioned gently answered, IgenP (Yes). There was a long silence before the first speakerresumed the conversation, asking: Why do notyou ask me where I come from V I never wasinquisitive, was the deliberate reply of the other,who, on passing soon afterwards our friend theDean—with whom he was acquainted—mumbledout: * The bath-master told me all about himbefore I went in. On the way to the boat the Dean sang in a lowvoice, in dialect, the quaint folk-songs of Styria,the home of my wife, to her great delight, generallybreaking off in the middle in an almost inaudiblechuckle. Next morning, in an apartment adjoining thesacristy of the Cathedral, a Bishop in purple andlace most kindly showed, and related to us thehistory of, precious objects contained in glass casesin the centre of the room, and sumptuous vest-ments hung in presses near the walls. Those whoremember the splendid collection w
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