there was a cross on it; but it was not a Romish church, for all that.
The inhabitants were adherents of Luther--Swabians, mixed with Magyars.

The municipal authorities, in their holiday attire of blue cloth, had
grouped themselves about the town hall. The older men wore their long
hair brushed back from the temples and held in place by a curved comb.
The young men had thrust into the sides of their lambskin caps gay
little nosegays of artificial flowers. _They_ proposed to fire a grand
salute from the pistols they had concealed in their pockets.

Meanwhile, the dignitaries underneath the umbrageous beech-tree were
passing the time of waiting pleasantly enough. Maple wine mixed with
mineral water was a very refreshing drink in the intense heat; besides,
it served as a stimulant to the appetite--_appetitorium_, they called
it.

Three wooden benches, joined together in a half-circle, formed a
comfortable resting-place for the committee of reception, the chief of
whom, the vice-palatine, was seated on the middle bench, drawing through
the stem of his huge carved meerschaum the smoke of the sweet Veker
tobacco. His figure was the living illustration of the ever true axiom:
"_Extra Hungariam non est vita_,"--an axiom which his fat red face by no
means confuted,--while his heavy, stiffly waxed mustache seemed to add
menacingly: "Leave the Hungarian in peace."

He shared his seat with the clergyman, whose ecclesiastical office
entitled him to that honor. The reverend gentleman, however, was an
extremely humble person, whom erudition had bent and warped to such a
degree that one shoulder was lower than the other, one eyelid was
elevated above its fellow, and only one half of his mouth opened when he