Читать книгу The Lands of the Tamed Turk; or, the Balkan States of to-day онлайн

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For a Balkan city Belgrade is exceptionally apt in acquiring the ways and “means” of the Westerner. As the traveller is about to leave the hotel to take a train a hall bell is rung, followed by a general mustering of all hands, from the head clerk to the cook’s helper, each of whom expects to receive some token of appreciation for services rendered. I suppose I had helped at least sixteen to establish themselves in business, and was just about to make a second start for the depot when one of the confederates came running breathlessly towards me. Would I be good enough to wait just one moment because the zimmer mädchen (and Heaven knows I tipped her munificently each time she brought me warm water for shaving or lined the marble bathtub with a sheet—and in Belgrade a bath costs seventy-five cents, anyway) was on her way downstairs? But time was precious with me and as I drove away I heard, faintly, the tardy and disappointed zimmer mädchen clattering along the flagstone hall.

I even saw an automobile, of uncertain vintage and questionable parentage, in Belgrade, honking its noisy way through the crowds of gaping peasants near the market.