Morning journal and courier., 1881-12-02
Treading the yVfne-Press iu Hungary
 From The Argosy.l


 The chief apartment of the house, occupy ing the center of it, and being entered i'm mediately from the front steps, was that devoted to the wine-press. It was like huge barn, the floor of trodden and beaten earth, and the door large and wide, to facili- tate the entrance of immense baskets of grapes, and to give ingress to the only light which the place afforded. Here, when the eye grew accustomed to the gloom, discov- cred dark forms moving to and fro. On two sides were large vessels, something like enor- nous barrels small wooden pulpits, and in each of these man appeared to be danc- ing. Around him were others, who, from time to time, flung the grapes beneath the dancers feet, or arranged mysterious taps and screws, which were to aid the flowing of the grape juice into the great vats in the cellar below. looked into the barrels, and saw that .tlre dancers, or treaders, were stamping on the skins and stems of the grapes, piled at least foot in thickness, and drained of their juice by the process, the fruit having been thrown in promiscuously as it was picked only that, in one case, the grapes were white, and in the other purple. The overseer, sturdy Wallachian, with a fierce black moustache and ringlets, looked narrowly at the little steams of juice that ran from the taps and when, at last, those from one bar rel dwindled, and then came drop by drop and stopped, the treader swung himself to the ground, and, with shovels and wooden vessels, proceeded to empty it of the pressed grape skins and stalks, and refill it with fresh ruit. Anduhere must say my romantic diff usions as to the threading of the wine press, and all the patriachal institutions which surround It, vanished at once and for ever. I had had dim ideas of snowy gar ments dyed purple with the juice of the grape, and the delicate feet of girls treadlne the luscious fruit under the shade Of v1ne-clag treIlises in the open air. In my imaginatiod there were fountains of pure water washinn away all stains and impurities, and long prog sessions of men aud maidens bearing the- fruit on their heads, all deeked with flowers, and singing and dancing to the sound of harps and flutes. Had not seen pictures to that effect, read poetical descriptions of it. and had not always been encouraged by my childhoods instructors in this delusion And now, behold, there were not any snowy gar ments at all the Hungarians had on coarse shirts and loose drawers tucked up above the knee, and came to the conclusion that they had never seen any fountains of pure water, and wouldn't have known the use of them if they had. For there was kind of griminess about them, burned in by the sun, which seemed to indicate that they never washed either themselves or their clothes. In fact, they had fine contempt for the ordinary rules of cleanliness. One black-eyed, purple legged fellow, with the grape-juice just dry ing on his bare feet, seized basket, and ran of down the steps and into Hhesyineyard, and presently returning with load of the fruit, shot it into the press, and, with all the dust and dirt of the road still clinging to his feet, mounted, and began to tread the grapes, and soon stood almost knee-deep in the liquor, which, having served him as 8 sort of foot bath, was to be the drink, perhaps, of future generations of refined, fastidious palates. Having seen this became melancholy, and preferred to leave the rest of the manipuIa- tions of earth's choicest nectar in obscurity.