"An' we kairs it because foki pens our Saviour, the tikno Duvel was born apre the Boro Divvus, 'pre the puv, avree in the temm, like we Rommanis, and he was brought 'pre pash an ash yag--(_Why you can d.i.c.k dovo adree the Scriptures_!).

"The ivy and holly an' pine rukks never pookered a lav when our Saviour was gaverin' of his kokero, an' so they tools their jivaben saw (sar) the wen, and d.i.c.ks selno saw the besh; but the ash, like the surrelo rukk, pukkered atut him, where he was gaverin, so they have to hatch mullo adree the wen. And so we Rommany chals always hatchers an ash yag saw the Boro Divvuses. For the tickno duvel was chivved a wadras 'pre the puvius like a Rommany chal, and kistered apre a myla like a Rommany, an'

jalled pale the tem a mangin his moro like a Rom. An' he was always a pauveri choro mush, like we, till he was nashered by the Gorgios.

"An' he kistered apre a myla? Avali. Yeckorus he putchered the pash- grai if he might kister her, but she pookered him _kek_. So because the pash-grai wouldn't rikker him, she was sovahalled againsus never to be a dye or lel tiknos. So she never lelled kek, nor any cross either.

"Then he putchered the myla to rikker him, and she penned: 'Avali!' so he pet a cross apre laki's dumo. And to the divvus the myla has a trin bongo drum and latchers tiknos, but the pash-grai has kek. So the mylas 'longs of the Rommanis."

(TRANSLATION.)--"Yes--many a time I've had to go two or three miles of a Great Day (Christmas), early in the morning, to get ash-wood for the fire. That was when I was a small boy, for my father always would do it.

"And we do it because people say our Saviour, the small G.o.d, was born on the Great Day, in the field, out in the country, like we Rommanis, and he was brought up by an ash-fire."

Here a sudden sensation of doubt or astonishment at my ignorance seemed to occur to my informant, for he said,--

"Why, you can see that in the Scriptures!"

To which I answered, "But the Gipsies have Scripture stories different from those of the Gorgios, and different ideas about religion. Go on with your story. Why do you burn ash-wood?"

"The ivy, and holly, and pine trees, never told a word where our Saviour was hiding himself, and so they keep alive all the winter, and look green all the year. But the ash, like the oak (_lit_. strong tree), told of him (_lit_. across, against him), where he was hiding, so they have to remain dead through the winter. And so we Gipsies always burn an ash- fire every Great Day. For the Saviour was born in the open field like a Gipsy, and rode on an a.s.s like one, and went round the land a begging his bread like a Rom. And he was always a poor wretched man like us, till he was destroyed by the Gentiles.

"And He rode on an a.s.s? Yes. Once he asked the mule if he might ride her, but she told him no. So because the mule would not carry him, she was cursed never to be a mother or have children. So she never had any, nor any cross either.

"Then he asked the a.s.s to carry him, and she said 'Yes;' so he put a cross upon her back. And to this day the a.s.s has a cross and bears young, but the mule has none. So the a.s.ses belong to (are peculiar to) the Gipsies."

There was a pause, when I remarked--

"That is a _fino gudlo_--a fine story; and all of it about an ash tree.

Can you tell me anything about the _surrelo rukk_--the strong tree--the oak?"

"Only what I've often heard our people say about its life."

"And what is that?"

"Dui hundred besh a hatchin, dui hundred besh nasherin his chuckko, dui hundred besh 'pre he mullers, and then he nashers sar his ratt and he's kekoomi kushto." {30}

"That is good, too. There are a great many men who would like to live as long."

"_Tacho_, true. But an old coat can hold out better than a man. If a man gets a hole in him he dies, but his _chukko_ (coat) can be _toofered_ and _sivved apre_ (mended and sewed up) for ever. So, unless a man could get a new life every year, as they say the _hepputs_, the little lizards do, he needn't hope to live like an oak."

"Do the lizards get a new life every year?"

"_Avali_. A _hepput_ only lives one year, and then he begins life over again."

"Do snails live as long as lizards?"

"Not when I find 'em rya--if I am hungry. Snails are good eating. {32} You can find plenty on the hedges. When they're going about in the fields or (are found) under wood, they are not good eating. The best are those which are kept, or live through (literally _sleep_) the winter.

Take 'em and wash 'em and throw 'em into the kettle, with water and a little salt. The broth's good for the yellow jaundice."

"So you call a snail"--

"A bawris," said the old fortune-teller.

"Bawris! The Hungarian Gipsies call it a _bouro_. But in Germany the Rommanis say stargoli. I wonder why a snail should be a stargoli."

"I know," cried the brother, eagerly. "When you put a snail on the fire it cries out and squeaks just like a little child. Stargoli means 'four cries.'"

I had my doubts as to the accuracy of this startling derivation, but said nothing. The same Gipsy on a subsequent occasion, being asked what he would call a _roan_ horse in Rommany, replied promptly--

"A matchno grai"--a fish-horse.

"Why a matchno grai?"

"Because a fish has a roan (_i.e_., roe), hasn't it? Leastways I can't come no nearer to it, if it ain't that."

But he did better when I was puzzling my brain, as the learned Pott and Zippel had done before me, over the possible origin of churro or tchurro, "a ball, or anything round," when he suggested--

"Rya--I should say that as a _churro_ is round, and a _curro_ or cup is round, and they both sound alike and look alike, it must be all werry much the same thing." {33}

"Can you tell me anything more about snails?" I asked, reverting to a topic which, by the way, I have observed is like that of the hedgehog, a favourite one with Gipsies.

"Yes; you can cure warts with the big black kind that have no sh.e.l.ls."

"You mean slugs. I never knew they were fit to cure anything."

"Why, that's one of the things that everybody knows. When you get a wart on your hands, you go on to the road or into the field till you find a slug, one of the large kind with no sh.e.l.l (literally, with no house upon him), and stick it on the thorn of a blackthorn in a hedge, and as the snail dies, one day after the other, for four or five days, the wart will die away. Many a time I've told that to Gorgios, and Gorgios have done it, and the warts have gone away (literally, cleaned away) from their hands." {34}

Here the Gipsy began to inquire very politely if smoking were offensive to me; and as I a.s.sured him that it was not, he took out his pipe. And knowing by experience that nothing is more conducive to sociability, be it among Chippeways or Gipsies, than that smoking which is among our Indians, literally a burnt-offering, {35} I produced a small clay pipe of the time of Charles the Second, given to me by a gentleman who has the amiable taste to collect such curiosities, and give them to his friends under the express condition that they shall be smoked, and not laid away as relics of the past. If you move in _etching_ circles, dear readers, you will at once know to whom I refer.

The quick eye of the Gipsy at once observed my pipe.

"That is a _crow-swagler_--a crow-pipe," he remarked.

"Why a crow-pipe?"

"I don't know. Some Gipsies call 'em _mullos' swaglers_, or dead men's pipes, because those who made 'em were dead long ago. There are places in England where you can find 'em by dozens in the fields. I never d.i.c.ked (saw) one with so long a stem to it as yours. And they're old, very old. What is it you call it before everything" (here he seemed puzzled for a word) "when the world was a-making?"

"The Creation."

"Avali--that's it, the Creation. Well, them crow-swaglers was kaired at the same time; they're hundreds--avali--thousands of beshes (years) old.

And sometimes we call the beng (devil) a swagler, or we calls a swagler the beng."

"Why?"

"Because the devil lives in smoke."

CHAPTER III. THE GIPSY TINKER.