Peter Kompiš

“ Probably he had been a soldier himself and would not spoil the game of his comrades.
“Shoe laces, peace goods, will last forever, 2 crowns, 80 hellers a pair”, cries a lame soldier standing at the entrance of a dry goods store.
In front of posters crowds are always standing many deep. The League for the Integrity of Hungary has the most striking poster: in a red field a white map of Hungary, cut into Slovak, Serbian and Roumanian territory. ”

“ Men are engaged in sweeping it away, but the piles are not decreasing. Everything seems somehow damp and dirty, the station buildings, street cars, pavements. On the square by the depot every one is busy and every one is noisy; the open spaces are filled with tents, tables and benches; people are selling black bread, bakery goods of various univiting shapes, candy, hot sausages, sodawater, lemonade, bacon. ”

“ All of them will clear out—Roumanians, Serbians and the Czechs”, says an old gentleman. “I don’t care who comes, Czech or Serb or Frenchman, as long as I can make a decent living.” Everybody looks with disapproving eyes at a man who speaks unpatriotically. ”