racter by translation. One word in
explanation. The Montenegrins cannot utter the simplest remark
without invoking the Almighty in some form or another. The use of the
word "Bog," or "God," is incessant.

Picture an aged man, whose grey stubble fringes a weather-beaten and
furrowed face with a grizzled moustache. He is smoking a grimy
tchibouque in a contemplative fashion, as he stands on the outskirts
of the chattering throng. To him approaches a second stalwart, lean
man about the same age and appearance. He is also smoking a long
tchibouque; it is a custom which the elder inhabitants have adopted
from the Turks.

"May God protect thee," says the new-comer gravely, as though he had
never given vent to such a momentous utterance before.

"May God give thee good fortune," answers the other, with equal
solemnity; and removing their pipes, they clasp hands and fervently
kiss each other. Then the smoking is resumed, and between the puffs
the following conversation ensues.

"How art thou?" says the new-comer, gazing with affection at his old
comrade.

"Well, thank God," replies the other.

"Thank God."

"And how art thou?"

"Well, thank God."

"Thank God."

Now it is the new-comer's turn for the Montenegrin catechism.

The questions already asked and answered are only the prelude, so to
speak, before they settle down to serious business. "Kako ste?" ("How
art thou?") is simply as meaningless as "How do you do"; in fact, a
mere matter of form.

"Art thou well?" says the questioner, referring to the other's state
of health, who replies--

"I am well, by God, thank God."

"Thank God," says the questioner, breathing more freely, and
continuing.

"How is thy wife?" "How are thy children?" "Thy grandchildren?" "Thy
brother?" "Thy sister?" To all of which a deep-toned "Well, thank
God," is given.

Having satisfied himself that the whole family is in reasonable
health, and quite certain that he has omitted no important relation,
the catechiser proceeds to inquire as to the other's worldly
possessions.

"How are thy crops?"

"God will give me a good harvest."

"How are thy horses?" "Thy sheep?" "Thy goats?" "Thy cows?" "Thy
pigs?" "Thy bees?"

It must be clearly understood, to appreciate the humour of the scene,
that the formula has been shortened to avoid vain repetition. Every
question is asked in full, and answered with a pious "Dobro, hfala
Bogu" ("Well, thank God"). Not a word is omitted. The conc