eyes scintillate as they take notice of what they consider the great
wealth of sterling silver about the machine I bestride. Eastward from
Altenburg the main portion of the road continues for the most part
unridably loose and heavy.

For some kilometres out of Raab the road presents a far better surface,
and I ride quite a lively race with a small Danube passenger steamer
that is starting down-stream. The steamboat toots and forges ahead, and
in answer to the waving of hats and exclamations of encouragement from
the passengers, I likewise forge ahead, and although the boat is going
down-stream with the strong current of the Danube, as long as the road
continues fairly good I manage to keep in advance; but soon the loose
surface reappears, and when I arrive at Gonys, for lunch, I find the
steamer already tied up, and the passengers and officers greet my
appearance with shouts of recognition. My route along the Danube Valley
leads through broad, level wheat-fields that recall memories of the
Sacramento Valley, California. Geese appear as the most plentiful objects
around the villages: there are geese and goslings everywhere; and this
evening, in a small village, I wheel quite over one, to the dismay of
the maiden driving them homeward, and the unconcealed delight of several
small Hungarians.

At the village of Nezmely I am to-night treated to a foretaste of what
is probably in store for me at a goodly number of places ahead by being
consigned to a bunch of hay and a couple of sacks in the stable as the
best sleeping accommodations the village gasthaus affords. True, I am
assigned the place of honor in the manger, which, though uncomfortably
narrow and confining, is perhaps better accommodation, after all, than
the peregrinating tinker and three other likely-looking characters are
enjoying on the bare floor. Some of these companions, upon retiring,