At Liubovia the hills receded, and the valley was about half a mile
wide, consisting of fine meadow land with thinly scattered oaks,
athwart which the evening sun poured its golden floods, suggesting
pleasing images of abundance without effort. This part of Servia is a
wilderness, if you will, so scant is it of inhabitants, so free from
any thing like inclosures, or fields, farms, labourers, gardens, or
gardeners; and yet it is, and looks a garden in one place, a trim
English lawn and park in another: you almost say to yourself, "The man
or house cannot be far off: what lovely and extensive grounds, where
can the hall or castle be hid?"[7]
Liubovia is the quarantine station on the high road from Belgrade to
Seraievo. A line of buildings, parlatorio, magazines, and
lodging-houses, faced the river. The director would fain have me pass
the night, but the captain of Derlatcha had received notice of our
advent, and we were obliged to push on, and rested only for coffee and
pipes. The director was a Servian from the Austrian side of the
Danube, and spoke German.
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