Identifier: hungary00stok (find matches)
Title: Hungary
Year: 1909 (1900s)
Authors: Stokes, Adrian, 1854-1935 Stokes, Marianne
Subjects:
Publisher: London : A. and C. Black
Contributing Library: Robarts - University of Toronto
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Toronto

View Book Page: Book Viewer
About This Book: Catalog Entry
View All Images: All Images From Book
Click here to view book online to see this illustration in context in a browseable online version of this book.

Text Appearing Before Image:
gohere. Of course we cant go there, are remarkswe have sometimes overheard, without being ableto find a reason for the unwritten law. Many ladies were in the garden when we arrived,and how lovely in their delicate summer clothes !Where in the capitals of Europe would you findsuch pure comple.xions, such beauty of feature andof hair, such graceful figures, more perfect breedingcombined with winning manners, or more con-summate taste in dress ? The prevailing typewas neither brunette nor blonde, but somewherebetween the two. The men were extremely smart and dressed inthe latest cosmopolitan fashion. We were taken to call on a famous sculptor,whose studios in a small park are among severalgiven by the State to artists of distinction; andthen we started for the heart of the country. A year or two before we went to Hungary, whilestaying at a watering-place in South Tyrol, we, atdifferent times, made the acquaintance—whichripened later into friendship—of two people. One A HUNGARIAN BABY
Text Appearing After Image:
FROM AUSTRIA TO ORSOVA 9 was a lady of high aristocratic birth, who shallbe known in these pages as the Grafin; theother, a dignitary of the Roman Catholic Church,shall be called, until he became a Bishop, thePrelate. Both were Hungarians ; both were surewe should find much to interest us and topaint in their country; and both invited us tovisit them. Our first visit was to the Grafin and her daughterin Budapest. We left there one fine hot morningin June in a crowded train, and an uneventfuljourney of about four hours, across the plainssouthwards, brought us to Kalocsa. The Prelate was at the station, and we drove intwo ramshackle open cabs for a mile or so, over apaved but very dusty road, to his fine old house hardby the Cathedral—a house of two stories, pale yellowochre in colour, with a great roof of brown-greytiles. In a niche over the doorway was a pictureof the Madonna, and above that the arms of thearchbishopric in stucco. The main doors were thrown open, and thesmiling sist

Note About Images