National Geographic : 1914 Oct
Photo by A. W. Cutler SLOVAK MARRIAGE: THE HAPPY COUPLE WERE ON THE POINT OF GOING TO THE} CHURCH FOR THE CEREMONY The girl on the left and the two on the right are the bridesmaids, each wearing many petticoats tinies not his own. Whilst he lives he is a demigod, and when he dies thousands go out to attend him as they did the primas Munczi, who left a million in money and a memory lasting as memories go. As for the peasant, one thing only can come between him and his gaieties. On Sunday morning, with no trace of the glorious carouse, but with every trace of deep and still reverence, he listens to the man of God-a simple priest who could have walked out of the pages of Gold smith's "loveliest village of the plain" listens, with a full sense of the reality of things, humbly, penitently, to the fath erly, reproving voice, and in the after noon forgets. BUDAPEST THE BEAUTIFUL "0, thou art fairer than the evening air, Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars." A moon serene, untroubled, set in the steadfast blue; stars fainting in a clear sky; the steady flow of the broad river; lights, shadows, and-save for the tinkle of tram-bells and the sound of water, the wash of some passing ship, softly "lap ping on the crag"-silence. It is such a night as Byron would have loved. Dark against the background and clear rise those hills whence, centuries ago, the Pagan Magyar hurled his martyr saint into the great river. "Falls the red sunbeam on the Hills of Buda, Light of the Kings that dwelt of old in Asia And drew the rude Te Deums of the Magyar. Old, old, and ever old, the Hills of Buda, Clear as the crystal justice of dead Matyas, Brooding upon the lovely land of Arpad. The spirits of dead yesterdays breathe o'er them, Phantoms of worlds that have been, songs elusive, There where the Gods dwelt-on the Hills of Buda."