there is verily a hurrying to and fro of all the citizens; husbands
hastening from magazine to dwelling to inform their wives and families,
mothers running to call their children, children their parents, and
everybody scampering to call the attention of their sisters, cousins,
and aunts, ere we are vanished in the distance, and it be everlastingly
too late.

We have been worrying along at some sort of pace, with the exception of
the usual noontide halt, since six o'clock this morning, and the busy
mosquito is making life interesting for belated wayfarers, when we ride
into Sarengrad and put up at the only gasthaus in the village. Our bedroom
is situated on the ground floor, the only floor in fact the gaathaus
boasts, and we are in a fair way of either being lulled to sleep or kept
awake, as the case may be, by a howling chorus of wine-bibbers in the
public room adjoining; but here, again, Igali shows up to good advantage
by peremptorily ordering the singers to stop, and stop instanter. The
amiably disposed peasants, notwithstanding the wine they have been
drinking, cease their singing and become silent and circumspect, in
deference to the wishes of the two strangers with the wonderful machines.
We now make a practice of taking our bicycles into our bedroom with us
at night, otherwise every right hand in the whole village would busy
itself pinching the "gum-elastic" tires and pedal-rubbers, twirling the
pedals, feeling spokes, backbone, and forks, and critically examining
and commenting upon every visible portion of the mechanism; and who knows
but that the latent cupidity of some easy-conscienced villager might be
aroused at the unusual sight of so much "silver" standing around loose
(the natives hereabout don't even ask whether the nickelled parts of the
bicycle are silver or not; they take it for granted to be so), and
surreptitiously attempt to chisel off enough to purchase an embroidered
coat for Sundays. From what I can understand of their comments among