The New Frontiers of Freedom from the Alps to the Ægean by E. Alexander Powell
page 70 of 169 (41%)
page 70 of 169 (41%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
"He does not," was the answer.
"Then you must have picked up some Serb or Italian," I hazarded. "Niver a wurrd of thim vulgar tongues do I know," said he. "Then how do you and the bishop get along?" "Shure," said Father Mullane, in the rich brogue which is, I imagine, something of an affectation, "an' what is the use of bein' educated for the church if we were not able to converse with ease an' fluency in iligant an' refined Latin?" When we were leaving Spalato, Father Mullane presented us with a _Bon Voyage_ package which contained cigarettes, a box of milk chocolate, and a five-pound tin of gum-drops. The cigarettes we smoked, the chocolate we ate, but the gum-drops we used for tips right across the Balkans. In lands whose people have not known the taste of sugar for five years we found that a handful of gum-drops would accomplish more than money. A few men with Father Mullane's resource, tact, and sense of humor would do more than all the diplomats under the roof of the Hotel Crillon to settle international differences and make the nations understand each other. I had been warned by archæological friends, before I went to Dalmatia, that the ruins of Salona, which once was the capital of Roman Dalmatia and the site of the summer palace of Diocletian, would probably disappoint me. They date from the period of Roman decadence, so my learned friends explained, and, though following Roman traditions, frequently show traces of negligence, a fact which is accounted for by |
|