Photo by Carroll S. Aldea 



ne;ar vii:w of rut monastjjry, showing th^ huge; i^oundation waIvIv and the: 



WOODEN STRUCTURES BUIET ABOVE IT 



tary self, banqueting on lamb (pot roast), 

 rye bread, ripe olives, goats' milk cheese, 

 and red wine. 



Later I was conducted to another and 

 smaller building, placed over the monks' 

 little terraced gardens, on the steep slope 

 of the mountain. As I discovered, I was 

 the guest of honor and had a whole house 

 to myself. 



HOSPITALITY A NECESSITY, NOT A VIRTUE 



Hospitality is a virtue common to 

 Greek monasteries, doubly to be appreci- 

 ated since the inns are wretched and in 

 the villages are often entirely lacking. 

 This hospitality a century ago was not 

 a virtue, but a necessity, for the monas- 

 teries had thus to satisfy the Turkish 

 government to avoid being plundered. 

 Happily the tradition persists long after 

 the requirement has ceased. 



The lean, unshaven youth who had first 

 met me — he was not a monk, but acted 

 .as porter and kitchen boy — said some- 



thing which I guessed to be the reassur- 

 ing information that his name was Geor- 

 gios, and that, having served as butler in 

 an Englishman's family in Athens, he 

 could talk English; the latter confidence 

 he communicated with great pride. 



I promptly hailed him joyfully as a gift 

 of the gods, but our friendship was dis- 

 appointing. Snobbishness, particularly in 

 the wilderness, is not an American vice, 

 yet I could not find that the ex-butler 

 and I had much in common. 



My objection to Georgios began early, 

 as I inquired how many monks were then 

 living at the monastery and received the 

 answer, "Yes, oh yes." 



"But how many, how many, monks are 

 there here?" I asked, speaking very 

 slowly. 



"Yes, yes ; oh yes." 



I made one more attempt, reversing 

 my question, and in conclusion asked if 

 there were "50, 100, how many?" 



He hesitated for a moment, looked 



I 



316 



