Round About the Carpathians | Page 4

the place, but there was not much to be done in the time, and I got very tired of waiting: the "half-hour" was anything but "small;" however, one must be somewhere, and in Hungary waiting comes a good deal into the day's work. I was rather afraid my Wallack was indulging too freely in slivovitz--otherwise plum-brandy--a special weakness of theirs; but after an intolerable delay we got off at last.
Soon after leaving the town we came upon an encampment of gipsies; their tents looked picturesque enough in the distance, but on nearer approach the illusion was entirely dispelled. In appearance they were little better than savages; children even of ten years of age, lean, mop-headed creatures, were to be seen running about absolutely naked. As Mark Twain said, "they wore nothing but a smile," but the smile was a grimace to try to extract coppers from the traveller. Two miles farther on we came upon fourteen carts of gipsies, as wild a crew as one could meet all the world over. Some of the men struck me as handsome, but with a single exception the women were terribly unkempt-looking creatures.
It was fully six o'clock before we reached Oravicza; the drive of twenty-five miles had taken eight hours instead of four, as the Wallack had profanely promised.
We entered the town with a feeble attempt at a trot, but the poor brutes of horses were dead beat, and neither the pressure of public opinion nor the suggestive cracking of the driver's whip could arouse them, to becoming activity.
Oravicza is very prettily situated on rising ground, and the long winding street, extending more than two miles, turns with the valley. Crawling along against collar the whole way, I thought the street would never end. There are very few Magyar inhabitants in this place, which is pretty equally divided between Germans and Wallacks; the lower part of the town belongs to the latter, and is known as Roman Oravicza, in distinction to Deutsch Oravicza. The population is altogether about seven thousand.
I fancy not many strangers pass this way, for never was a shy Englishman so stared at as this dust-begrimmed traveller. I became painfully self-conscious of the generally disreputable appearance of my cart and horses, the driver and myself, when two remarkably pretty girls tripped by, casting upon me well-bred but amused glances. All the womenkind of Oravicza must have turned out at this particular hour, for I had hardly passed the sisters with the arched eyebrows, when I came upon another group of young ladies, who were laughing and talking together. I think they grew merrier as I approached, and I am quite sure I was hotter than I had been all day. "Confound the fellow! can't he turn into an innyard--anywhere out of the main street?" thought I, giving my driver a poke. He knew perfectly well where he was about to take me, and no significant gestures of mine hastened him forward in the very least. Presently, without any warning, we did turn into a side opening, but so suddenly that the whole vehicle had a wrench, and the two hind wheels jolted over a high kerbstone. Meanwhile the group of damsels were still in close confab, and I could see took note that the stranger had descended at the Krone. We were all in a heap in the courtyard, but we had to extricate ourselves as best we could, for not a soul was to be seen, though we had made noise enough certainly to announce our arrival.
I pulled repeatedly at the bell before I could rouse the hausknecht, and induce him to make an appearance. At length he deigned to emerge from the recesses of the dirty interior. Having discharged the Wallack in a satisfied frame of mind (he had the best of the bargain after all), I was at leisure to follow mine host to inspect the accommodation he had to offer me. A sanitary commissioner would have condemned it, but _en voyage comme en voyage_. With some difficulty and delay I procured water enough to fill the pie-dish that did duty for the washing apparatus. I had an old relative of extremely Low Church proclivities who was always repeating--for my edification, I suppose--that "man is but dust;" the dear old lady would have said so in very truth if she had seen me on this occasion.
After supper I strolled into the summer theatre, a simple erection, consisting of a stage at the end of a pretty, shady garden. Seats and tables were placed under the lime-trees, and here the happy people of Oravicza enjoy their amusements in the fresh air, drinking coffee and eating ices. Think of the luxury of fresh air, O ye frequenters of London theatres!
The evening was already advanced, the tables were well filled;