to a country-cart.  A donkey and a cow together, are sometimes met with, and one man, going to the festival at Iglau, had his wife and children in a little wagon, drawn by a dog and a donkey.  These two, however, did not work well together; the dog would bite his lazy companion, and the man’s time was constantly employed in whipping him off the donkey, and in whipping the donkey away from the side of the road.  Once I saw a wagon drawn by a dog, with a woman pushing behind, while a man, doubtless her lord and master, sat comfortably within, smoking his pipe with the greatest complacency!  The very climax of all was a woman and a dog harnessed together, taking a load of country produce to market!  I hope, for the honor of the country, it was not emblematic of woman’s condition there.  But as we saw hundreds of them breaking stone along the road, and occupied at other laborious and not less menial labor, there is too much reason to fear that it is so.

As we approached Iglau, we heard cannon firing; the crowd increased, and following the road, we came to an open square, where a large number were already assembled; shrines were erected around it, hung with pictures and pine boughs, and a long procession of children was passing down the side as we entered.  We went towards the middle, where Neptune and his Tritons poured the water from their urns into two fountains, and stopped to observe the scene.  The procession came on, headed by a large body of priests, in white robes, with banners and crosses.  They stopped before the principal shrine, in front of the Rathhaus, and began a solemn religious ceremony.  The whole crowd of not less than ten thousand persons, stood silent and uncovered, and the deep voice of the officiating priest was heard over the whole square.  At times the multitude sang responses, and I could mark the sound, swelling and rolling up like a mighty wave, till it broke and slowly sank down again to the deepest stillness.  The effect was marred by the rough voice of the officers commanding the soldiery, and the volleys of musquetry which were occasionally discharged.  It degraded the solemnity of the pageant to the level of a military parade.

In the afternoon we were overtaken by a travelling handwerker, on his way to Vienna, who joined company with us.  We walked several miles together, talking on various matters, without his having the least suspicion we were not Germans.  He had been at Trieste, and at length began speaking of the great beauty of the American vessels there.  “Yes,” said I, “our vessels are admired all over the world.”  He stared at me without comprehending;—­“your vessels?” “Our country’s,” I replied; “we are Americans!” I can see still his look of incredulous astonishment and hear the amazed tone with which he cried:  “You Americans—­it is impossible!” We convinced him nevertheless, to his great joy, for all through Germany there is a curiosity to see our countrymen