The contemptible pig still constitutes the chief article of export, but the raising of swine, instead of the cultivation of the soil, although the latter is by no means unprolific, has been handed down from generation to generation as an ingenious method of the Servians for saving the products of their country from the destructive raids of the Turks.[1] In some districts, however, fruits and cereals are cultivated and exported in abundance. Many thousands of cases of plums find their way to France annually, whence they are re-exported to America, and sold under the label of French products. From this fruit is pressed the national drink of Servia, _slivivitz_, a sort of plum brandy, which, when imbibed freely, produces most grotesque effects—so I am told. [1] To those of the Mohammedan faith pork is a forbidden delicacy. Although the whole kingdom covers little more than twice the area of the state of New Jersey, the regular army consists of some twenty thousand men. The organization of it, however, is based upon a law enacted in 1893 which, if executed, would place in the field three hundred and thirty-five thousand men, but financial stringencies have curbed the application of this statute. For every Servian between the ages of twenty and thirty, military duty for two years in the regular army is compulsory; and during the remaining years of his middle life he is classed in the first, second or third divisions of the reserves, according to his age. Belgrade itself, the capital of the country, has a population of eighty thousand, being about the size of Hartford, Connecticut, and it is a singular fact, as well as an amusing one, that no less than two thousand of this number are policemen. These guardians of the peace, who are at the same time units of the army, are well-drilled and are housed in military barracks. [Illustration: DRINKING A FRIENDLY GLASS OF _SLIVIVITZ_.] Naturally, the army is the phase of Servian life most often met with in the capital. You will see it on every hand, at all hours and clothed in every conceivable colour of uniform. It throngs the parks and takes complete and indisputable possession of the cafés; in which the prices of beverages advance simultaneously with the tuning-up of the gypsy orchestras. Should you drive out to one of the rather ridiculous race-meets you will notice that the army-officers’ race is the most important event on the programme. Like as not, upon such an excursion, the King will drive past you, bowing graciously; although the races are comparatively crude affairs, he and the other members of the royal household are ardent devotees of the sport.