"Dosta dosta," said she; "plenty, plenty of queer folk I saw at Yetholm in my grandfather's time, and plenty I have seen since, and not the least queer is he who is now asking me questions." "Did you ever see Piper Allen?" said I; "he was a great friend of your grandfather's." "I never saw him," she replied; "but I have often heard of him. He married one of our people." "He did so," said I, "and the marriage-feast was held on the Green just behind us. He got a good, clever wife, and she got a bad, rascally husband. One night, after taking an affectionate farewell of her, he left her on an expedition, with plenty of money in his pocket, which he had obtained from her, and which she had procured by her dexterity. After going about four miles he bethought himself that she had still some money, and returning crept up to the room in which she lay asleep, and stole her pocket, in which were eight guineas; then slunk away, and never returned, leaving her in poverty, from which she never recovered." Ithen mentioned Madge Gordon, at one time the Gypsy queen of the Border, who used, magnificently dressed, to ride about on a pony shod with silver, inquiring if she had ever seen her. She said she had frequently seen Madge Faa, for that was her name, and not Gordon; but that when she knew her, all her magnificence, beauty, and royalty had left her; for she was then a poor, poverty-stricken old woman, just able with a pipkin in her hand to totter to the well on the Green for water. Then with much nodding, winking, and skellying, I began to talk about Drabbing bawlor, dooking gryes, cauring, and hokking, and asked if them 'ere things were ever done by the Nokkums: and received for answer that she believed such things were occasionally done, not by the Nokkums, but by other Gypsies, with whom her people had no connection.
Observing her eyeing me rather suspiciously, I changed the subject;asking her if she had travelled much about. She told me she had, and that she had visited most parts of Scotland, and seen a good bit of the northern part of England.
"Did you travel alone?" said I.
"No," said she; "when I travelled in Scotland I was with some of my own people, and in England with the Lees and Bosvils.""Old acquaintances of mine," said I; "why only the other day I was with them at Fairlop Fair, in the Wesh.""I frequently heard them talk of Epping Forest," said the Gypsy; "a nice place, is it not?""The loveliest forest in the world!" said I. "Not equal to what it was, but still the loveliest forest in the world, and the pleasantest, especially in summer; for then it is thronged with grand company, and the nightingales, and cuckoos, and Romany chals and chies. As for Romany-chals there is not such a place for them in the whole world as the Forest. Them that wants to see Romany-chals should go to the Forest, especially to the Bald-faced Hind on the hill above Fairlop, on the day of Fairlop Fair. It is their trysting-place, as you would say, and there they musters from all parts of England, and there they whoops, dances, and plays; keeping some order nevertheless, because the Rye of all the Romans is in the house, seated behind the door:-Romany Chalor Anglo the wuddur Mistos are boshing;Mande beshello Innar the wuddur Shooning the boshipen."Roman lads Before the door Bravely fiddle;Here I sit Within the door And hear them fiddle.
"I wish I knew as much Romany as you, sir," said the Gypsy. "Why, Inever heard so much Romany before in all my life."She was rather a small woman, apparently between sixty and seventy, with intelligent and rather delicate features. Her complexion was darker than that of the other female; but she had the same kind of blue eyes. The room in which we were seated was rather long, and tolerably high. In the wall, on the side which fronted the windows which looked out upon the Green, were oblong holes for beds, like those seen in the sides of a cabin. There was nothing of squalor or poverty about the place.
Wishing to know her age, I inquired of her what it was. She looked angry, and said she did not know.
"Are you forty-nine?" said I, with a terrible voice, and a yet more terrible look.
"More," said she, with a smile; "I am sixty-eight."There was something of the gentlewoman in her: on my offering her money she refused to take it, saying that she did not want it, and it was with the utmost difficulty that I persuaded her to accept a trifle, with which, she said, she would buy herself some tea.
But withal there was hukni in her, and by that she proved her Gypsy blood. I asked her if she would be at home on the following day, for in that case I would call and have some more talk with her, and received for answer that she would be at home and delighted to see me. On going, however, on the following day, which was Sunday, Ifound the garden-gate locked and the window-shutters up, plainly denoting that there was nobody at home.
