The Argosy — page 291: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

274 Among the Hungarians. shade of vine-clad trellises in the open air. In my imagination there were fountains of pure water washing away all stains and impurities, and long processions of men and maidens bearing the fruit on their heads, all decked with flowers, and singing and dancing to the sound © of harps and flutes. | Had I not seen pictures to that effect, read poetical descriptions of it, and had not I always been encouraged by my childhood’s instructors in this delusion? And now, behold, there were not any snowy garments at all: the Hungarians had on coarse shirts, and loose drawers tucked up above the knee; and I came to the conclu- sion that they had never seen any fountains of pure water, and wouldn’t have known the use of them if they had. For there was a kind of griminess about them, burnt in by the sun, which seemed to indicate that they never washed either themselves or their clothes. In fact, they had a fine contempt for the ordinary rules of cleanli- ness. One black-eyed, purple-legged fellow, with the grape-juice just drying on his bare feet, seized a basket, and ran off down the steps and into the vineyard, and presently returning with a load of the fruit, shot it into the press, and, with all the dust and dirt of the road still clinging to his feet, mounted, and began to tread the grapes, and soon stood almost knee-deep in the liquor, which, having served him as a sort of foot-bath, was to be the drink, perhaps, of future genera- tions of refined, fastidious palates. Having seen this I became melancholy, and preferred to leave the rest of the manipulations of earth’s choicest nectar in obscurity. The other apartments of the house were built around the wine- press. There was but one of tolerable size—that which was to serve as dining, drawing, and dancing-room. ‘The rest were more like cells in a honeycomb: tiny bedrooms, and a kitchen; all, of course, upon the ground floor. Presently, out darted the sprite in the big apron, with a copper saucepan in one hand and a large metal spoon in the other. She took her station upon the terrace, motioned the gipsy band to silence, and proceeded to sound the dinner-gong upon these instru- ments. All the doors of the honeycomb cells opened at once, and the inmates exhibited the most laudable devotion to punctuality by marching straight to the dining-room—decorated with green in our honour—and seating themselves in grave expectation. ‘The cook herself (without her apron) soon appeared, a rather anxious ex- pression upon her pretty face, which, however, gradually gave place to a beaming satisfaction, as she saw the appreciation of her skill, and the prompt vanishing of the various dishes of her fabrication. We drank to the health of the cook with enthusiasm. During the repast the gipsies upon the terrace had not ceased playing. ‘The door was half open, and we could see the men distinctly from where we sat. ‘There were at least eight or nine of them, nearly all handsome men; dark complexioned, with regular EOPMICELIOOL KS, (E00)