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

He made a thousand apologies, and finally ran off
wringing his fat hands, found with great difficulty four more eggs and
cast them into the boiling water.
"There," he said, "you can have your four eggs."
"It's not the eggs," answered Jan, "it's you."
Jo was roaring with laughter. Some of the morning she had been in a
woman's house listening to one of the policeman's tales of the
professor, and soon the whole village was rocking with amusement at
"Teshko."
At last the horses arrived--six miserable-looking beasts, but this time
all had shoes. One was commandeered by the professor.
"He is the greatest philosopher in all Serbia," whispered an official to
Jan.
"Ah, I guessed there must be some reason," said Jan.
We had a send-off, all the village came to see us go away. The day was
a repetition of our previous experiences. A long tramp in the mud. At
the top of the highest pass we had yet reached was an old wooden
blockhouse.
We came upon it unexpectedly, rounding a corner.


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