w.

A man was selling honey in the comb accompanied by his bees, which must
have followed him for miles. They testified their displeasure at his
selling their honey by stinging him and most of the buyers.

No one seemed to know when the train was leaving. Station-master,
porters, all had a different tale. At last we decided to risk seven
o'clock in the evening, and the four orderlies and ourselves, copper
tray and all, bade farewell to the Belgian sisters, who had cut off
their hair, and wandered across to the station. The train arrived two
hours late and stood, ready to go out, guarded by tatterdemalions with
guns.

"You can't get in yet," said one of them barring our way.

"Why?"

"Ne snam."

The freebooting instinct arose in us; we awaited our opportunity, dodged
between two soldiers, and settled ourselves comfortably. Several
officials looked in and said nothing; another came and forbade us to
stay there, and passed on. An old woman came with a broom and cleaned
up. We sat on our feet to get them out of the way, somebody squirted
white disinfectant on the floor, and we were left in peace.

The train started at eleven, moved as far as a siding and stayed till
four. We found the four Red Cross men had only nine shillings between
them. Three had stood all the way from Salonika, as during an
unfortunate moment of interest in the view their seats had been
appropriated by a fat Serbian officer, his wife and daughter. The
fourth, a porter from Folkestone, had settled down on the floor, saying
"he wasn't going to concarn himself with no voos."

They had new uniforms, yellow mackintoshes, white kit bags, and
beautiful cooking apparatus, which took to pieces and served a thousand
purposes.

In the chilly morning we got out at Stalatch, just too late for the
Vrntze train. Luckily the station cafe was open.

The four Englishmen ordered beefsteak, but were given long lean
tasteless sausages. They asked for tea and were given black Turkish
coffee in tiny cups half full of grounds. We asked about the trains, and
were told we should catch the one next day. We argued, and extracted the
promise of a luggage train, which would soon pass.

Why is it that in Serbia they always, on principle, say, "You can't,"
after which under pressure they own, "Somehow you can"? In Montenegro
they say, "Certainly you can," after which they occasionally find that
"Somehow you can't."

At last the luggage train came. We sat on the step d