"But you must eat to live," she protested.
We intimated that this was of the nature of a truism, but failed to see
the connection.
"But look at them," she expostulated, holding out a large basket of
apples; and we suddenly remembered that "Jabooka" means also apples, and
realized that she was not a land agent.
Then on once more. In the deep valleys were large modern sawmills, but
the houses were ever poor, and the windows grew smaller and smaller and
were without glass. At the junction of the Kolashin road, from the
north, we picked up a jolly Montenegrin with a big dog. He was a driver
by profession, and he hurried our lethargic progress a little. Then the
front spring broke. It was mended with wire and a piece of tree; when we
started again the reins snapped.
We halted once more at a cafe filled with Americans; some had only left
their native land six months agone, yet to the peasant they were all
"Americans." Some of them seemed very dissatisfied with the reception
which they had received, and we don't wonder.
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