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"The Luck of Thirteen Wanderings and Flight through Montenegro and Serbia"

They chewed the
cud with an air of incomparable wisdom so remote from the look of
reproachful misery that is generally worn by an ox. Goats came in from
the hills with their hair clipped in layers, which gave them the
appearance of ladies in five-decker skirts; and children were playing a
queer game. They jumped loosely round in circles with bent knees, making
a whooping-cough noise followed by a splutter. We saw it often
afterwards, and decided that it must be the equivalent to our "Ring o'
Roses."
Work was over for the day, the sun set behind the hills which ringed us
round, and we went to kill time in a cafe.
While we were exchanging coffees with an "American," who was showing us
the excellences of his wooden leg which he had made himself, a
breathless man ran in.
He had been searching the town for us. The governor had ordered him to
put us up, as his had the notoriety of being a clean house. Having taken
a room already with the amiable old lady we feared to disappoint her, so
we decided not to move.


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