India 2001 books

Montenegrins seem to be
ashamed of walls, and they adore royalty. In every room one finds
portraits of the King of Montenegro, the queen, the princes, the King of
Italy, his queen, the Tzar of Russia, the grand dukes and duchesses, the
King of Serbia and his princes, and to cap all a sort of comprehensive
tableau of all the male crowned heads of Europe--including
Turkey--balanced by another commemorating all the queens of
Europe--excluding Turkey--the spaces left between these august people
are filled with family portraits, framed samplers, picture postcards or
a German print showing the seven ages of man over a sort of step-ladder.
After lunch, loaded with grapes which Miss Petrovitch's peasant friend
brought us, we trooped down to the steamer, which had been an old
Turkish gun monitor and had been captured when the Montenegrins took
Scutari.
The boat was crowded, and the Frenchman took refuge in the captain's
cabin, which was crammed with red pepper pods, and went to sleep. Jo
began sketching at once.


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