The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1910-10-24

playing with the carrots.
 At my own table, I make the ac- quaIntance of a young school teacher from Nuremberg. He tells me that he has come to SaIzburg for the Mozart Musical Festival, and that he heard the wonderful Mozart Mass, which was sung that day in the cath edral His beer, bread, and cheese probably constitute his dinner, and the same can be said of all the other guests save myself. They are all able to make a healthy and sociable meal at a trifling cost. Elsewhere din ner would cost ten times as much, and there would be those awful and inevitable three walters to tip.
 The Nuremberger goes away and Tyro1ean costume and carrying with them not only beer, bread, butter, and cheese, but also postcards. They pro- ceed to write on the postcards, but I notice with surprise that they are writing in musical notation. They are musicians from Vienna. They Salsburg Musical Festival and that they also heard that superb mass.
 Healthy Beer-DrinIkers.
 Let not us, English and American water drinkers, despise these people as lazy beer-swillers. Their knowl- average Englishman. Their love for the open-air is as great our own. Many of them have alpenstocks and ice axes and have come from the the vast ice-felds of the Uebergossene Aim. Englishmen also go in for mountain ping, but only weIl-to do Engl1shmen as a rule. Here in the Germanic Alps you meet thou sands of humble German and Aus trian families trudging along with a1penstocks and Rucksacks and doing sometimes their thirty or forty miles a. day.
 an institution in Bavaria and Aus tria, and I should not be surprised if it were an 1nsp ection of these beer halls which once led an English Pro- testant bishop to open a. public-houSe with prayer and religious cerem onies. The beer in these places is always is better, think, than any of the Austrian and Bavarfan beers which are exported, and which were them selves. by the way, originally mon astery beers. As for the whole sys- tenn of monastic beer-sel1ing I know too little about it to be able to speak with certainty, but as far as I have been able to observe, it does not en- courage excessive drinking.
 One of the oldest and best-known monastic cellars is the Stiftske1ler of the ancient Benedictine Abbey of St. Peter. This consists partly of a square open overhead, the ground level, and several ancient rooms and recess es opening in from it-St. Peters room, St. Paul's room, and perhaps others. The ceiling of the rooms Is groined like the Westminster Abbey cIofstersy. and one or the Wal1S IS the DaS6 or the huge Monchsberg rock on the summit whereof. nearly 400 feet above, towers the Hohen Sa1zburg, the old fortress of the prince-bishops. The surround ings are almost as old as Christianity, the Catacombs hollowed out of the 1iv ing rock in the adjacent graveyard of St. Peter dating from the time of St. Rupert, 5s2 years after Christ.
 As at Mullins, snatches of gay, old fashioned German drinking songs adorn the walls. There are also. of course, deers' antlers, drinking-horns, prehistoric tankards, o1d-fashioned ta- Ib1es and chairs, etc. Wine of different sorts and prices is sold as well as beer. the ordinary table wine of the monas- try being supplied in large beer-g1ass- es, not in bottles. Regular meals are also served, but on Fridays and other days of abstinence there is only fish, never meat.
 Walters are employed here, and ev- cry evening after vespers one of the Benedictines puts in an appearance. A most courtly and dignff1ed old man, he passes from table to table making pleasant remarks, offering his snuff box with all the grace of cardinal, and shaking hands with acquaintan- ces. He never drinks with any of his guests and never loses atom of his di gnity. At the same time, his pres ence never seems to throw wet blan-