beforehand vast and elaborate
preparations, ramifying through the whole nation. Each section had
brought provisions sufficient for their own consumption in addition to
several special dishes for the guest-tables; but the contribution of each
section was not consumed by its own members.

It was evidently a part of the scheme that all should derive from a
common stock, so that the feeling of brotherhood and common property
should be preserved in this monumental fashion.

The guest-tables were the only tables to be seen. The bulk of the
feasters sat on the ground. The tables were brought forward by the men
themselves--no such thing as domestic service was known on this day--from
a wood close at hand, where they and the chairs had been placed in
readiness. The linen and crockery used had been sent for the purpose
from the households of every town and village. The flowers were plucked
in the mountains early that morning by the children, and the gold and
silver plate used for adornment were supplied from the churches. Each
dish at the guest-tables was served by the men of each section in turn.

Over the whole array seemed to be spread an atmosphere of joyousness, of
peace, of brotherhood. It would be impossible to adequately describe
that amazing scene, a whole nation of splendid men surrounding their new
King and Queen, loving to honour and serve them. Scattered about through
that vast crowd were groups of musicians, chosen from amongst themselves.
The space covered by this titanic picnic was so vast that there were few
spots from which you could hear music proceeding from different quarters.

After dinner we all sat and smoked; the music became rather vocal than
instrumental--indeed, presently we did not hear the sound of any
instrument at all. Only knowing a few words of Balkan, I could not
follow the meanings of the songs, but I gathered that they were all
legendary or historical. To those who could understand, as I was
informed by my tutelary young friend, who stayed beside me the whole of
this memorable day, we were listening to the history of the Land of the
Blue Mountains in ballad form. Somewhere or other throughout that vast
concourse each notable record of ten centuries was being told to eager
ears.

It was now late in the day. Slowly the sun had been dropping down over
the Calabrian Mountains, and the glamorous twilight was stealing over the
immediate scene. No one seemed to notice the coming of