The fish loves water for its part, No fish’s shape is mine! For me the wine that warms the heart Born beside Tokay’s vine. What’s water unto me? Whoever drinks not wine No Magyar can be. Cold beer the Germans swill, We quaff the grape with song, For beer from water they distil, Two pints a penny strong-- Wine to me bring here, Who drinks it not, the Magyar name He holds not ever dear. Hungary ranks high among wine-producing countries, at least a million acres being under cultivation of the vine, while the Tokay wine is limited to that grown within an area of about twenty square miles. [Illustration: A YOUNG MAGYAR CSIKÓS] In contrast to the stern heights of the mountains the Great Plain of Hungary, the Alföld, which has been called the “heart and brain and soul” of Hungary, is a startling contrast. It is 35,000 square miles in area, and the soil is rich, so that it lies like an oasis amid the encircling heights. It is the greatest plain in Europe and is at an average height of 350 feet above the sea. Quantities of corn are grown here, but in some places the ground is still too swampy for such cultivation, and the people live by gathering the reeds and rushes with which to make mats, and osiers for baskets. On the far-reaching Alföld it is the majestic _Nothing_ that awes and impresses you. There are neither trees nor pastures, neither hills nor dales, neither flocks nor people. Simply miles and miles of _nothing_, arched over by the blue of heaven, but if you look closely you will find on the sand the tiny traces of fairy footsteps. It has its own peculiar fairies as well as its own peculiar grasses, flowers, birds and insects. _Fata Morgana_ is the sovereign who queens it over them there; but she shows herself more rarely every year. Silence broods over all, and subtle fitful shadows chase each other across the “large neglect” of this broad expanse, where patches of long knotted grass and charming water weeds wave and toss feebly in the balmy breeze. Wild ducks and moor-hens share the shelter of “withied” swamps with the heron, the crane and the stork, and gaze without a sign of fear or trepidation on the rare passer-by. But this was written many years ago, and much of the area has been drained since then.