a novel of incident like the present tale as
there is in that fine novel of manners: "A Hungarian Nabob." Yet even in
"Szegeny Gazdagok," many of the minor characters (e.g., the parasite
Margari, the old miser Demetrius, the Hungarian Miggs, Clementina, the
frivolous Countess Kengyelesy), are not without a mild Dickensian
flavour, while in that rugged but good-natured and chivalrous Nimrod,
Mr. Gerzson, the Hungarian novelist has drawn to the life one of the
finest types we possess of the better sort of sporting Magyar squires.

Finally, this fascinating story possesses in an eminent degree the charm
of freshness and novelty, a charm becoming rarer every year in these
globe-trotting days, when the ubiquitous tourist boasts that he has
been everywhere and seen everything. Yet it may well be doubted whether
even he has penetrated to the heart of the wild, romantic, sylvan
regions of the Wallachian and Transylvanian Alps, which is the theatre
of the exploits of that prince of robber chieftains, the mighty and
mysterious Fatia Negra, and the home of those picturesque Roumanian
peasants whom Jokai loves to depict and depicts so well.

R. NISBET BAIN.

Contents

CHAPTER

I. BOREDOM
II. A NEW MODE OF DUELLING
III. AN AMIABLE MAN
IV. CHILDISH NONSENSE
V. SHE IS NOT FOR YOU
VI. BRINGING HOME THE BRIDE
VII. THE CAVERN OF LUCSIA
VIII. STRONG JUON
IX. THE GEINA MAID-MARKET
X. THE BLACK JEWELRY
XI. TWO TALES, OF WHICH ONLY ONE IS TRUE
XII. THE SOIREES AT ARAD
XIII. TIT FOR TAT
XIV. THE MIKALAI CSARDA
XV. WHO IT WAS THAT RECOGNIZED FATIA NEGRA
XVI. LEANDER BABEROSSY
XVII. MR. MARGARI
XVIII. THE UNDISCOVERABLE LADY
XIX. THE SHAKING HAND
XX. THE FIGHT FOR THE GOLD
XXI. THE HUNTED BEAST
XXII. THE SIGHT OF TERROR
XXIII. THE ACCOMMODATION
XXIV. CONCLUSION

POOR PLUTOCRATS

CHAPTER I

BOREDOM

"Was it you who yawned so, Clementina?"

Nobody answered.

The questioner was an old gentleman in his eightieth year or so, dressed
in a splendid flowered silk Kaftan, with a woollen night-cap on his
head, warm cotton stockings on his feet, and diamond, turquoise, and
ruby rings on his fingers. He was reclining on an atlas ottoman, his
face was as wooden as a mummy's, a mere patch-work of wrinkles, he had a
dry, thin, pointed nose, shaggy, autumnal-yellow eyebrows, and his large
prominent black eyes protected by irritably sensitive