The landlord’s four daughters offered me a hearty reception, and made it evident by their sparkling eyes and their delighted manner, that they felt all the pleasure and dignity of hospitality. Everything the place could offer was at our disposal, and they seemed as if they could not do enough to make us comfortable. Various members of the family appeared in turn, in order to be introduced to me, and all, even the children, conducted themselves with the most unembarrassed courtesy. The sons-in-law of my host and a young relative, who was the village schoolmaster, sat down to table with the head of the family and myself, whilst the daughters waited upon us. Luckily for me I had chanced upon them just at Easter time, so we were allowed to partake of meat. The table was ornamented with a great variety of coloured Easter eggs, and after dinner the “egg-touching” ceremony began, each person offering the small end of an egg to his neighbour, saying as he did so, “Christ is risen.” This appeared to be a favourite amusement with the children, and many eggs were broken by their little hands. I was delighted with the charming manner in which the youngsters grouped together, and after the repast was over sang us an Easter hymn. I cannot refrain from giving my readers the very Grecian names of my kind entertainers. My host was called Gavril, one of the sons-in-law was Kleobulas Christophagu Gavrilidis, and the other Socrates. The schoolmaster was Michel Ivanidas, and the four daughters respectively Minerva, Terpsichore, Penelope, and Zoisa; another maiden present was called Evanthia. How can we account for such classic names, if I am not correct in asserting that these people are the direct descendants of the early Greeks? Next morning I was astir at about four o’clock, and walked out into the fresh and balmy air. A gentle wind was wandering about the mountains, stirring the waving foliage of the trees, and rippling the bright water of the streams as it passed. Thrushes and nightingales poured forth their sweetest melody on all sides, and a delicious perfume was wafted around from innumerable flowers, and the hedges of myrtle by which the fields are surrounded. Only one thing was wanting to the scene—where was the rustling sound of trees on the declivities of the mountains? As I looked up, the first glance told me the soil was in the highest degree fitted for their culture, and yet the eye could only discover a variety of shrubs and mountain plants interspersed with a few blackened stumps.