she added, taking off Maggie's bonnet and looking at it while she made an observation to the old woman, in the unknown language.The tall girl snatched the bonnet and put it on her own head hind-foremost with a grin;but Maggie was determined not to show any weakness on this subject, as if she were susceptible about her bonnet.
`I don't want to wear a bonnet,' she said, `I'd rather wear a red handkerchief, like yours' (looking at her friend by her side).`My hair was quite long till yesterday, when I cut it off: but I dare say it will grow again very soon,' she added apologetically, thinking it probable the gypsies had a strong prejudice in favour of long hair.And Maggie had forgotten even her hunger at that moment in the desire to conciliate gypsy opinion.
`O what a nice little lady - and rich, I'm sure,' said the old woman.
`Didn't you live in a beautiful house at home?'
`Yes, my home is pretty, and I'm very fond of the river where we go fishing - but I'm often very unhappy.I should have liked to bring my books with me, but I came away in a hurry, you know.But I can tell you almost everything there is in my books, I've read them so many times - and that will amuse you.And I can tell you something about Geography too - that's about the world we live in - very useful and interesting.Did you ever hear about Columbus?'
Maggie's eyes had begun to sparkle and her cheeks to flush - she was really beginning to instruct the gypsies, and gaining great influence over them.The gypsies themselves were not without amazement at this talk, though their attention was divided by the contents of Maggie's pocket, which the friend at her right hand had by this time emptied, without attracting her notice.
`Is that where you live, my little lady?' said the old woman, at the mention of Columbus.
`O no!' said Maggie, with some pity, `Columbus was a very wonderful man, who found out half the world and they put chains on him and treated him very badly, you know - it's in my Catechism of Geography - but Perhaps it's rather too long to tell before tea....I want my tea so.'
The last words burst from Maggie, in spite of herself, with a sudden drop from patronising instruction to simple peevishness.
`Why, she's hungry, poor little lady,' said the younger woman.`Give her some o' the cold victual.You've been walking a good way, I'll be bound, my dear.Where's your home?'
`It's Dorlcote Mill, a good way off,' said Maggie.`My father is Mr Tulliver, but we mustn't let him know where I am, else he'll fetch me home again.Where does the queen of the gypsies live?'
`What! do you want to go to her, my little lady?' said the younger woman.
The tall girl, meanwhile, was constantly staring at Maggie and grinning.
Her manners were certainly not agreeable.
`No,' said Maggie, `I'm only thinking that if she isn't a very good queen you might be glad when she died, and you could choose another.If I was a queen, I'd be a very good queen, and kind to everybody.'
`Here's a bit o' nice victual, then,' said the old woman, handing to Maggie a lump of dry bread, which she had taken from a bag of scraps, and a piece of cold bacon.
`Thank you,' said Maggie, looking at the food, without taking it, `but will you give me some bread and butter and tea instead? I don't like bacon.'
`We've got no tea nor butter,' said the old woman with something like a scowl, as if she were getting tired of coaxing.
`O, a little bread and treacle would do,' said Maggie.
`We ha'n't got no treacle,' said the old woman crossly, whereupon there followed a sharp dialogue between the two woman in their unknown tongue, and one of the small sphinxes snatched at the bread-and-bacon and began to eat it.At this moment the tall girl who had gone a few yards off, came back and said something, which produced a strong effect.The old woman seeming to forget Maggie's hunger, poked the skewer into the pot with new vigour, and the younger crept under the tent, and reached out some platters and spoons.Maggie trembled a little, and was afraid the tears would come into her eyes.Meanwhile the tall girl gave a shrill cry and presently came running up the boy whom Maggie had passed as he was sleeping - a rough urchin about the age of Tom.He started at Maggie, and there ensued much incomprehensible chattering.She felt very lonely, and was quite sure she should begin to cry before long: the gypsies didn't seem to mind her at all, and she felt quite weak among them.But the springing tears were checked by a new terror, When two men came up, whose approach had been the cause of the sudden excitement.The elder of the two carried a bag, which he flung down, addressing the women in a loud and scolding tone, which they answered by a shower of treble sauciness; while a black cur ran barking up to Maggie and threw her into a tremor that only found a new cause in the curses with which the younger man called the dog off, and gave him a rap with a great stick he held in his hand.
Maggie felt that it was impossible she should ever be queen of these people, or ever communicate to them amusing and useful knowledge.
Both the men now seemed to be inquiring about Maggie, for they looked at her, and the tone of the conversation became of that pacific kind which implies curiosity on one side and the power of satisfying it on the other.
At last the younger woman said in her previous deferential coaxing tone, `This nice little lady's come to live with us: aren't you glad?'
`Ay, very glad,' said the Younger man, who was looking at Maggie's silver thimble and other small matters that had been taken from her pocket.He returned them all expect the thimble to the younger woman, with some observation, and she immediately restored them to Maggie's pocket, while the men seated themselves and began to attack the contents of the kettle - a stew of meat and potatoes - which had been taken off the fire and turned out into a yellow platter.
