Six Croat maidens—any number divisible by six and two would do as well—sorted themselves into two groups of three, which for awhile seemed to ignore each other’s existence, the sisters of each triad alternately dancing to one another, and then joining hands, like three Graces as they were, and circling round; till of a sudden the rival orbits seemed to feel each other’s influence, a quick _rapprochement_ took place, and all six, interlacing their arms, tripped round in a fairy ring, faces outwards, till a starry disruption once more surprised us, and in a twinkling the revolving orb was split up into a new triad of twin constellations spinning round on their separate axes, till it made one giddy to look at them—ribbons, kerchiefs, and cometic plaits—and, sooth to say, the nebulous envelopes of the statuesque!—flying off centrifugally. The dance was in parts surprisingly graceful; and the dancers, though mostly homely, were certainly prettier than the average North-German _Bauerin_. Their hair was inclined to light shades which one hardly expected to see in so southern a clime, and their eyes were generally blue. There was one maiden, however, more comely than the rest, with dark almond eyes and raven hair, of a strange type, that one meets with now and again in South-Sclavonic regions; a waif from the lands of the morning, an Oriental beauty shrouded in no winding-sheet and entombed in no harem, but set off by the light white muslin of Croatia. Then there were other dances in which the men performed, which were distinguished by stamping, and every now and then interrupted by a comic ‘spoken.’ We heard some songs, too; such as one would imagine might break from a flock of sheep if they were to burst into spontaneous melody—a wearisome succession of baa-baas, varied at intervals by an attempt to see how long they could keep on at one note! The poverty of the instruments seemed to narrow the range of the human voice.