were
accused of taking all the best land and doing nothing with it. And
the question of the tobacco regie raged. Podgoritza I found greatly
changed. The outer world had rushed in on it. The tobacco factory
dominated the town. "God willing, we shall burn it down!" said the
populace cheerfully. True, it employed many hands, but they
complained the pay was low, though they admitted that the girls had
never earned anything before. In truth, regular work was a new thing
in Montenegro. The end of the days of indefinite coffee- and
rakia-drinking and recounting of past battles was now approaching.
The middle ages were leaping at one bound into the twentieth
century, and the Montenegrin was angry and puzzled.

The Italians had undertaken to construct a railway, quays, and
harbour works, and offered fair wages for workmen. The Montenegrins
demanded fantastic payment and imagined that by standing out they
would get it. To their astonishment the Italians imported gangs of
far better workmen and finished the work. Then the Montenegrins
cursed the Italians and hated them bitterly. Even Montenegrin
officers openly boasted that they did not know the price of the
regie tobacco as they smoked only contraband, and feeling ran so
high that the Italian Monopol buildings at Antivari were attacked
and damaged.

At Podgoritza I met again the Albanian coachman Shan, who had served
me very faithfully on my previous visits. He took me to the house of
his family. A striking contrast to the Montenegrin houses, it was
spick and span and even pretty, for the Albanian has artistic
instincts, whereas the Montenegrin has none. Left to himself, his
taste is deplorable.

Further signs of change in the land soon showed themselves. Rijeka
had already grumbled. At Danilovgiati I was at once approached by a
youth, who proudly showed me a Serbian paper containing his portrait
and verses by himself. He was lately come from Belgrade, where he
was a student, one of the many who have there been made tools of by
unscrupulous political intriguers. He indignantly inveighed against
the poverty of Montenegro and ascribed every evil to the Prince. I
suggested that the Montenegrins themselves were among the laziest on
God's earth, and could with energy do very much more with their
land. But he blamed "the Government" for everything. No learning,
no progress, he declared, was possible. You could not even import
the books you wanted. He hurled his accusations broadca