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CHAPTER XXVIII.MAROS UJVÁR.THE most extraordinary sights in all Transylvania are the mines. The enormous dimensions of the salt-works, the peculiar way of working them, the vastness of the halls which thus are formed, the gloom and the transient illu- mination, overwhelm you with astonishment and wonder, and a vague sense of awe. I do not remember ever to have seen anything which impressed me like the salt mine at Maros Ujvár. It leaves behind a recollection you cannot get rid of,-seizing hold of your mind with an irresistible power ; it fills it entirely with its undefined and seemingly endless greatness. For me, the sight of these dim chambers was an event in my life ; and had I seen nothing else in Transylvania, I should not have considered my journey had been unprofitable. The salt bed lies two hundred fathoms from the river Maros, the average height of which is on a level with the surface of the salt; and there being danger in such close neighbourhood, a new channel was dug for the stream to carry it further off. This was done, lest in time the water might wear its way through the soil and reach the salt, inundating the mine, and otherwise working mischief. All danger from that side is now averted. The space covered by the salt is 350 fathoms long by 300 broad. The known depth in the earth to which it goes is 70 fathoms. Thus far has the boring-rod penetrated, and always pure salt has been found. The yearly produce at present is 1,000,000 cwt. ; the selling price 4fl. 50kr. per cwt. ; the cost of working is 60kr. per cwt., thus leaving an immense profit to the Government. But let us descend the mine. Broad wooden steps lead in a zigzag direction down a shaft; you soon perceive crystals which have formed on and between the planks which serve to board the sides; a step or two more, and no planking is needed to keep back the soil,-the welllike passage being now cut through a hard crystalline mass as firm as a rock. You have already reached the salt, and now on all sides, turn where you may, or descend for more than a hundred feet, you still have above, below, and around you, floor, and wall, and ceiling, of this seemingly greyish marble. You come to a landing; the stairs cease. To the right, a portal is cut in the crystal wall, and a gallery leading downwards with a slight incline is hewn through it, like the passage running behind the boxes in a theatre. Of course it is very still here, locked up as you are in the centre of this dead hard world; but as you sweep round, sounds of knocking and a din of confused noises rise up about you. One step more, and you stand on a brink, looking out on indefinite, }t may be endless, space. The eye cannot at first penetrate the gloom, but you see here and there a light twinkling far, far below you, and you feel by the air that a vast space is in front, a vast expanse like the ocean, over which a breath is moving. It reminded me of my childish notion when a boy, that it might be possible to stand on the world's edge, and look over into the unfathomable beyond. And here I was now verily looking over into what seemed chaotic night. It is difficult to describe, not so much the place itself, as the conflicting feelings that arose and quickly fought for possession of the mind. At first you are stupefied at the mighty height, and depth, and breadth which you gradually apprehend is there. Then comes wondering curiosity with a sudden rush, but still all is vague in your senses ; and you stare at the roof which you can touch with your hand, and follow it, hanging over that tremen- dous abyss as far as you can, till your sight is unable to reach any further. At last, a conception of the truth steals over your brain, and you understand that the place where you are is a gigantic hall, and you, a mere fly, are creeping along the cornice of one of the walls, high up in the air, on a few boards of overhanging scaffolding. On one side of you is the continuation of the wall, but whither does it go ? all yonder is hidden in obscurity, and your imagination whispers of distances interminable ; but suddenly below in that chaos or Avernus, in that bottomless gulf or everlasting night,-for at moments it is each and all these to you,-a bright blaze kindles. Great Heaven, what a sight ! As the pile of straw flickers into flame, the shadows are forced back. Then in the partial glare, perpendicular walls are revealed, such as no rockhewn temple, still less one built up by men's hands, has ever yet shown. What is the famed Elephanta to this ? a puny puppet's house with its columns ten feet high ; here the pillars, were any needed, must be near 200 feet in height; for at that elevation, the flat ceiling stretches across, unsupported, from wall to wall, though 120 feet apart. And all is cut out of the hard salt rock,-strong and cohesive, even as though it were granite. The light is imperfect ; it gives hints of other halls further on, of passages broad and high, but whose size, direction, and meaning are involved in the impenetrable obscurity. In the neighbourhood of the blaze are human figures, naked from the waist upwards, standing in rows and wielding hammers, which as they fall on the hard floor raise the din you heard at your approach. From the ceiling close to your head, stalactites of salt crystals are hanging. The platform where you are standing is formed by massy beams let into the wall, on which the flooring rests. This was done while the floor-now so fearfully low down-was as yet but a few feet beneath the ceiling. All was prepared then, in anticipation of the time when the present gulf would be below. The gallery goes round two sides of the hall; suddenly it stops, and instead of continuing along the wall a bridge is flung across to another wall, for here is one of those iside passages which the flame partially lighted up just now. As you look down while crossing the strong beams, and hovering-literally hovering-in the gloom, the thought occurs of that terrible bridge of Dante. But you pass on, and are now on firm ground, that is to say, on the rock of salt, and a corridor hewn through it brings you to a spot exactly facing that, where on entering you first suddenly emerged from the wall and had before you that great chamber. From one side to the other is 240 feet across. I now went down by a broad stair with a succession of landing-places, to reach the floor where the men were at work. At different stations a date was chiselled in the wall, stating the year in which the excavation thence had been begun ; for in that vast chamber the working had gone down step by step, till at last the whole floor, always descending, had left the ceiling at the height I have described. Every few years, when the floor had been thus lowered five or ten feet, a new flight of steps was added to the stair, and at the last landing-place, on a tablet or niche in the salt rock, the month and year were inscribed. A very curious phenomenon was here discernible ; all engraved forms remain as at first ; the cut lines are sharp, and unchanged as though cut on stone, but the whole figure or letter has contracted and is reduced in size. The process goes on equally, for there is no disproportion anywhere. The design or writing is exactly the same as it was originally, only the letters have all grown smaller than when put there ten years ago. A gallery hewn through the rock is on every side firm and smooth as marble. When first formed, it was full three feet wide, yet on measuring it after sixty years- it is found to be some inches narrower ; yet there is no inequality anywhere, no rifts in the side walls, no deflection. Thick beams of wood placed as scaffolding in a shaft or passage in the salt, are in time so pressed together, that the strong pine stem is forced to bend, and gets crushed to such a degree that the very filaments are separated. Nor can it be otherwise when we consider the force employed; some million tons of matter are moving, not owing to disruption or in obedience to the law of gravity, but of them- selves, as by an instinct, blindly accomplishing an irresistible decree. For the rock literally grows, by slow degrees expands, and the two sides of the passage in that subterranean place will for a thousand years be uninter- ruptedly getting nearer to each other. And an age will come when the space between them has been passed over, when the gap that kept apart those two walls, inanimate, yet tending forward with irrepressible striving, has ceased to be, and the long separated will again have met. Thus that seemingly inert mass does move, and with the certainty of fate ; yet with a slowness, with so slow a creeping motion, that the mind even is baffled by it and loses itself in the interminable time. I was now on the floor of the chamber. Looking up, I tried to get but a glimpse of the ceiling, but long before my sight could reach it, there hung in mid-air impenetrable darkness. I still endeavoured to follow upward the line of perpendicular wall nearest me, to let my vision creep up it, as it were, and try to reach the gallery where I had been, just beneath the ceiling, but it was ail in vain, the distance was too great. In that place the Monument might nearly have stood. But now a bonfire of straw was again lighted, and on high I could see some forms. At, may be, 120 feet from the ground, the walls ceased to rise perpendicularly; they advanced in gable form towards each other, till the two inclines were not more than thirty-six feet apart. The cohesive power of the salt-rock is here at once made intelligible. The walls of the chamber were 120 feet apart, y et no beam, or pillar, or arch was needed to support the broad ceiling, horizontal like that of a room. As was said above, the excavation takes place literally by steps. On the floor a long line of salt, like the step of a stair and about as high, is gradually loosened. Several men stand on it side by side, and each swinging his pickaxe brings it down beneath the block on which he is standing with immense force. They all strike together ; this causes a greater vibration throughout the mass than if the blows were separate, and the long square block is the more easily detached. A wedge, which one might suppose would facilitate the work, is not used, because more salt would be lost by employing it. A greater quanity would be broken and fly off than is the case with the pickaxe. After a time, levers are put beneath it, and the men working at them at last uplift the piece; it is a perfectly square column about five feet long. It is then broken into smaller lengths, by a few mart blows on the suface and side, and the blocks split off a smoothly as if sawn into square pieces, each weighin as near as possible ninety-vie pounds. For every such block the miner receives 4kr. They must be less than a cwt. for the convenience of handling them. These blocks look exactly like large paving-stones of Scotch granite, and are nearly as hard. They are thrown about as though they were usch, and neither break nor chip. The men at work here have nothing on except the loose Hungarian trousers, or a petticoat of linen. They are obliged to work so, for otherwise the salt would get between their clothing and the skin, and cause an insupportable irritation. There is an agreeable temperature in the mine which never varies, and for diseases of the lungs the atmosphere is very beneficial. The pick of the miners is straight and sharp at both ends, like that used by stonemasons; its weight is fifteen pounds, an the force of the blow is greatly augmented by the elasticity of the handle, which struck me as being out of all proportion to the size of the iron insturment; but I was told it was purposely so then nd elastic, in order to prevent the concussion from harring, as each blow otherwise would do, the men's arms and shoulders. These hendles were of oak, and hardly thicker than the hazel saplings used for driving-whips.I said tht the salt was like blocks of hewn stone. In one part of the mine they had been applied to building purposes, to raise a buttress wall fifty feet high against a partition which was ain danger of giving way; an old mine being behind. Nothing could be neter than this masonry. The base was lrage, and the wall as it rose receded, each square of salt being about a couple fo inches behind the other. As cement, the fine salt laying about was used. The whole amalgamated and grew together, and had become like a solid rock. This cohesion is tricking as you climb over the hills of salt formed of the refuse. It has become one mass, and is as firm beneath your feet as the turfy slope of a mountain. I am agriad to state how many million cwt. are lying here, flung away never to be used. For only the large square blocks are sent up to the magazine, the rest, the fragments, it is not thought worth while to employ. There is such abundance, such an inexhaustible store, that a thousand tons of this small salt, though pure and good as the rest, are quite unheeded. At the salt mine near Déé:s, 1,200,oo cwt. of refuse salt are lying in the valley, and 400,00 cwt. more are still in the mine; but at Maros Ujvár, the quantity is far more considerable. The yearly produce at Déé:s is 120,000 cwt. Indeed, the quantity of salt that Transylvania possesses is something bordering on the fabulous. It is said that there is sufficient to supply the whole of Europe for hte next thousand years. It lies in the earth as a comopact mass, descending to a depth which in some places has not yet been reached. The line of the salt formation may be traced on the map. It begins at Vielicka in Gallicia, and crosses Transylvania till it reaches Okna in Wallachia. On the territory thus passed over the principal salt springs are to be found. The only purpose to which the refuse salt is applied is for feeding cattle. In order that it may not be turned to any other use, it is, before being sold, discoloured by mixing with it two per cent. of oxide of iron, and one per cent. of coal. The Government furnish this at the reduced price of one florin per cwt. The poor, however, eat it rather than pay the higher price for the pure salt.Some years ago, a lake had formed in the Maros Ujvär mine, but by means of efficient machinery it was cleared in four months. The water, which was a thick brine, was pumped into the Maros, and thus again several thousand cwt. of the mineral were lost. There is water in another part still, and day and night the engines are at work to clear it out. Every minute, 25 cubic feet of water are brought to the surface and turned into the river. In every cubic foot are contained 13 lb. of salt ; thus every twenty-four hours, 268,000 lb. of salt are unavoidably flung away. This work, when I was there in April, had been going on since November without one moment's intermission. Sometimes the water has its source below, and then it is hardly possible to get the mastery over it. This is the case in one mine near Déé:s; it is filled thirty fathoms deep with water, and is therefore closed up. Were there but a little more spirit of enterprise than there is in the country, saline baths would long ago have been formed here as well as at Déé:sakna. The brine has been turned to good account in Bavaria, and bathing places have sprung up, to which visitors come from all parts of Europe, enriching the whole neighbourhood, and bringing life and trade and active enterprise to places where formerly were only a few workmen's cottages. Mehadia shows what may be done when an endeavour is made to raise a place into notice, by providing fitting accommodation for visitors. If, in making the excavation, rows of columns of gigantic circumference had been left standing-and to do this would have been easy enough-what a temple would thus have been formed ! Why it would be a wonder of the world, with nothing on earth to equal it in size or solemn grandeur. Deep down in the earth, hewn out of the smooth rock, a hall with columns 20 feet thick, and rising nearly 200 feet to support the roof above.I dwelt so long on this fancy, that at last I saw the wonderful work before me, and the myriad torches which, when great rites were being observed, filled all the air with glare and flitting shadows. The officer of the mine who was so obliging as to accompany me, explained the Roman method of obtaining the salt. Instead of sinking a shaft, and forming galleries, they dug a large circular opening in the ground. The pit thus excavated was funnel-shaped, twenty feet in diameter at the top, and ending at bottom in a point. Up the sloping sides they carried the salt ; they never dug low down, in order not to have far to mount with their loads. Arrived at a certain depth, they left the pit and opened a new one, beside the other; taking always only from the surface, and leaving untouched the store that was below. In modern times great improvements have been adopted in the mode of working these mines, so as to do so with as little loss as possible. To the south, a new gallery has been pushed forward from the vast hall already spoken of, for in that direction the salt-rock is supposed to be inexhaustible. On the north side, however, though a thick bed of salt is known to exist, nothing is taken, in order to allow a wall to remain as protection to the mine, in case of any dangers from water that may arise in that quarter. There is a machine at work here which raises the water to a stage halfway up the shaft, and thence to the surface. The iron pipes are covered with the dripping water, but this being nearly all salt forms a thick crystalline crust around them, and prevents the formation of even a particle of rust. On breaking off the cake of salt from the iron tube, the surface beneath it was found to be as fresh as when first cast. The water of the Maros is so entirely free from lime, that the sides of the boiler in which it is used remain without any calcareous deposit forming upon them,-a fortunate chance which saves much trouble. Formerly the miners were free from military service, which was a great inducement for them to choose this employment. They are exempt no longer; and, in consequence, are less willing now to adopt mine-work as a livelihood. It is difficult to find men, and the pay has therefore been increased to 20-25f1. per month. In one part a side gallery had been formed, and the square blocks of salt are sent down a gutter of wood to the floor below, whence with the rest they are hauled up by a machine. There is a very clever contrivance to impede the progress of these blocks, as they flew down the smooth board with a fearful velocity. The three boards in which they slid formed a sort of tramway. At intervals one end of a heavy plank hung down in this gutter, the other upper end being suspended by a hinge. Thus the blocks in passing down had to lift up this plank every time, in order to pass under it ; and as this was often repeated, their progress was retarded, and they reached the bottom with greatly diminished velocity, instead of, as they otherwise would have done, at headlong speed. The simplicity of the arrangement, and adaptation to the purpose intended, were admirable. To walk about in this strange subterranean world had a great charm for me, and I was sorry to quit it ; but it was time to go. A large network of rope hung down from above, and getting into it, lights in hand, we were drawn upward. I had begged that when halfway up, a heap of straw should be lighted, in order that while swinging in the air, I might look down upon this wonderful place, and take in at one view ceiling, walls, and floor. We gave a signal ; the flame burst forth, and its reflection reached even our faces as we mounted in the darkness. I saw the whole in all its grandeur. In a moment we heard voices above us, then there was a burst of daylight, and we were again in the upper world. Some of the excavations, begun according to the old system, are not continued. In one is an echo that is really quite enchanting in its effect, and long as I stayed to listen to it, I would gladly have remained still longer to continue calling forth those undulating articulations. I stood on a gallery over a large cavernous place, and called. Immediately from unseen vaults the same sound was repeated by a thousand voices, but in two different notes; a modulation like that in a shake, when the learner produces slowly the two alternate tones. That was just the beauty and the charm ; it was a waving sound, rising and falling, and not ceasing, but repeating itself on and on, always further and further off, till at last, at a remote distance, you still thought you caught the faint reverbe-rations. And now some one took up a block of wood and struck the floor of the gallery. Rising up out of the darkness, and from places above you, and from caverns, which by the rush of sounds you knew must be existent somewhere near, came a great concussion,-a havoc of rushing voices, all speaking, and all speaking at once in thunder. They came tumbling in on every side ; and I might have been excused for fearing I had been too bold; that I had invaded a realm where I ought not to have entered; and that a world of spirits was threatening and calling me to desist. Yet above the din, the two separate sounds, distinct, yet harmonizing, rose audibly; and as the hubbub subsided, the whole pulsation-that is the very word-kept beating on with equal but everdeclining motion. The two circumstances which so arrested the attention, were the pulsing movement of the sounds, and the fact that the modulation produced by the union of the two always made them seem like human tones ; and as they continued so long, you ceased to connect them with their real origin, and listened as though really a host of living voices had of themselves suddenly spoken out in chorus. You heard the tremulous movement to the very end, even when far, far off, the last of it was just ebbing away. In one part of Maros Ujv-,r a quite novel method of proceeding has been adopted. The mine is worked like a quarry; the whole is open to the sky, and the blocks of salt are hewn as blocks of marble elsewhere. The rain has no influence ; the only inconvenience it occasions is the formation of large pools of water. At the quay there are stores of salt piled up in walls twenty feet high. It might be supposed that remaining thus uncovered and exposed to the elements the blocks would melt or deteriorate, but they are so hard that the weather does not injure them. The rampart is still distinctly discernible which the Romans threw up round the area containing salt. They did it either to mark its boundary, or to protect it from possible inundation. Though the country immediately around is now bare of trees, it was not always so. On the hills grew formerly oak-woods, but these have been all. destroyed. Beech-wood for fuel now costs, at Maros Ujvár, 11fl. 70kr. per klafter,*28_1 while at Thorda the price is 5fd. It is brought up the river in the boats that come to fetch the salt, though it might be floated down the river from Toplitza more cheaply. The vast woods on the Oranyos, near Abrudbanya, do not at present even pay for their superintendence ; but were the projected railway carried out which would pass by Thorda and Maros Ujvär-two places on which Government has spent enormous sumsthe wood, now useless, might be floated down to Thorda,. and delivered here and in the neighbourhood for a few florins a klafter. Nothing could be kinder than the attention I received from the officers of the works, and with true Hungarian hospitality, one of them made myself and his colleagues stop at his house, as we passed, to take refreshment. He was a jovial fellow, blunt, hearty, straightforward ; with all the bluff sterling qualities-without the rudeness- which were supposed to form the staple characteristics of the classical Old English squire. He had fought in the revolution; and to judge by his fine burly figure I should think the blows he dealt were hard ones. His wine was excellent; and we were so merry that it was with regret that I rose to take leave. Everywhere in Hungarian houses, you find, besides a care for neatness, a wish to have a dwelling that answers to something more than the absolute necessities of life. Here there were nice prints on the walls, and pretty furniture, and a sort of simple unpretending elegance. My host told me I ought to have come to him instead of putting up at the inn; that he would have been glad to receive me and have done his best to make me comfortable, and I am sure I should have been so. To me, hospitality with the Hungarians seemed an instinct : they exercise it because they cannot help it. It is quite the same sort of feeling as the English captain imputed to his crew, who vowed they would not fight till some supposed grievance had been removed. "Won't you?" was the answer. "Now I'll tell you what I'll do the first French ship that comes in sight I'll run alongside her, and we'll soon see if you'll fight or not. Why, when you see a Frenchman you can't help fighting." And so it is with the Hungarians. High or low, they cannot help being hospitable : it is a natural impulse with them to take in the stranger, and make him break bread under their roof. Indeed, you may walk into their dwelling and demand hospitality as a right, and I doubt if any would take it amiss. I have done so ; and my embarrassment at what-though I did it-I felt to be an unwarrantable act, was instantly removed by the pleasure shown at being able to receive a guest. The Hungarians say the Saxons are wanting in hospitality. I did not find this ; but I can well understand bow the opinion might arise. The Germans altogether, -I do not mean those of Transylvania, but Germans generally,- have not that natural ease of manner, that self-possession, which the French and the Hungarians possess. Nor do they think as quickly; and hence there is not that readiness of resource which is called for on a sudden emergency. The charm of manner in a Hungarian lady or gentleman on receiving you as guest, no one can ever forget who has had the pleasure of experiencing it. Nothing can be more gracefully winning. I confess I have found nothing like it elsewhere. And it is the same, modified somewhat according to station, in all ranks. The German in his very nature is different altogether from the Hungarian; his manners generally are different, and his manner too is not the same when he welcomes you to his house. There is no awkwardness about a Hungarian; there is a great deal about most Germans. The one feels embarrassed if, unexpectedly, a total stranger makes his appearance ; the other is perfectly collected and self-possessed, no matter what his rank or that of the stranger may be. There is as much ease in his manner as though the two were equals ; and he has the talent of making you, in the very first moment, feel at home under his roof. The German generally lives more frugally than the Hungarian. He economizes, while the other is more inclined to say, "To-day let us eat and be merry, for to-morrow we die." He may, therefore, not always be so well provided on an emergency, and by a process of thought-so in accordance with German nature-decides how all difficulties can be evaded and the thing managed. This naturally impairs the case and warmth of his advances. The Hungarian does not give the matter a thought; he bids you come in; and as to difficulties, if there are any, they will be got over in some way or other. He will give you what he has-his very best-and he naturally believes that you will receive what he offers in the same spirit as it is given. The German is more umstdndlich (ceremonious and circumstantial) : you are quite welcome, but there is no denying that your presence deranges him, or rather, his household, more than is the case with his neighbour. And without his willing it, you possibly feel this. I said above, hospitality with the Hungarian is a sort of instinct. Although you are a perfect stranger, he at once offers it; indeed, it is just because you are a stranger that he is so ready to do so. The Transylvanian Saxon is more cautious in his nature,-the Hungarian says he is suspicious,-and if, though quite unknown to him, you were to knock and claim hospitality, you would certainly not find that unreserve with which a Hungarian would bid you enter. But bring a letter or a greeting from a friend as your credentials, and then all is done to welcome and to show you honour. Any man of education is received with open arms by the Saxon clergyman or professor. They all are only too glad of an opportunity for fresh intellectual converse, and to obtain direct tidings from the great world of letters beyond the barrier of their mountains. I hope not to be misunderstood, when I say that the Hungarian exercises hospitality like the Arab in the de- sert, as a natural law, to all comers. It is an inheritance from his nomade ancestors, and there is in it all that cha- racterizes its exercise in the East : the Saxon rather as one who, having passed out of that more primitive state, expects, first, certain observances, which the social institutions of a more artificial state of existence demand. Two anecdotes related to me by a well-known Saxon clergyman will hardly be out of place here. While making a tour, he, with a party of friends, arrived at a Szekler village, L ztrfalva, during the harvest. The place was empty, all the inhabitants being busy in the fields. At last they met a solitary peasant, of whom they asked the way to the inn. " There is no inn here," was the answer. "But where shall we go ? We must enter somewhere to rest and get refreshment." The peasant immediately told them, " I live yonder, at such a number. Here is the key of my house-door. In half an hour I shall be back with a load of corn. I must go now, or I would accompany you. Excuse my not doing so; but go alone : open the door, walk in, and make yourselves comfortable till I come." The party accepted the friendly offer, and in half an hour the Hungarian returned with his wife, who made a fire and cooked a meal for them. My informant, whose guest I then had the pleasure of being, and whose thorough knowledge of the people and talent for describing them, is known and appreciated throughout Transylvania, added, " This chivalrous hospi- tality characterizes the whole Hungarian population, down to the very lowest class. You find it in all. No German would have done what that Szekler did, and allowed us to enter his house alone, utter strangers to him as we were. But I will tell you another incident, which is also characteristic. One of my farm servants went with a load. of corn to the mill, and as he expected to be absent twenty-four hours, he took with him hay enough for the cattle during that time. However he, as well as others who were waiting, was detained longer. Consequently he had no more provender. A Hungarian, who saw this, said, ` Come with me;' and taking him to his stable, gave him the necessary forage. He did not even ask to whom the oxen belonged, or where my man came from." I have alluded, I believe, to a shade of suspicion which shows itself in the character of the Saxon. More than one of their clergymen affirmed the truth of this. In towns, and among the more educated, this, as might be expected, no longer shows itself ; but the Saxon peasant still receives your advances and answers your questions with evident caution. It arises, no doubt, from his position in olden times, when at every moment he was exposed to some vexatious inroad on his rights or histerritory. He consequently looked with distrust on every one who approached that was not of his own nation ; and with the pertinacious unchangingness which characterizes every peasantry, this feeling has clung to him, just as he himself clings to each old habit and long since antiquated system. But my little bright-eyed Hungarian lad is at his post in the waggon, in his capote of black and crimson. I know he is longing to be off, and again rattling along the road. So farewell to Maros Ujvár, and may I live to see its wonders and hear its echo once again ! Text Archive Home | Book Details | Table of Contents |