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THE 
 
 ROMANY RYE; 
 
 A SEQUEL TO " LAVENGRO." 
 
 BY GEORGE BORROW, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 "THE BIBLE IN SPAIN," "THE GYPSIES OP SPAIN," ETC. 
 
 Fear God, and take your owu part.' 
 
 IN TWO- VOLUMES.-YQL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET. 
 
 1857. 
 
 {The Right of Tmmlaticn is reserved.} 
 
LONDON: WOOUKAI.L AND KINDRR, PRINTERS, 
 ANGEL COURT, SK IN.VER STREET. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 IT having been frequently stated in print that 
 the book called " Lavengro " was got up ex- 
 pressly against the popish agitation, in the years 
 1850-51, the author takes this opportunity of 
 saying that the principal part of that book was 
 written in the year '43, that the whole of it was 
 completed before the termination of the year '46, 
 and that it was in the hands of the publisher in 
 the year '48. And here he cannot forbear ob- 
 serving, that it was the duty of that publisher to 
 have rebutted a statement which he knew to be 
 a calumny ; and also to have set the public right 
 on another point dealt with in the Appendix to 
 the present work, more especially as he was the 
 proprietor of a review enjoying, however unde- 
 servedly, a certain sale and reputation. 
 
 1 ' But take your own part, boy ! 
 For if you don't, no one will take it for you." 
 
 With respect to " Lavengro/' the author feels 
 
 A 2 
 
 896996 
 
VI ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 that he has no reason to be ashamed of it. In 
 writing that book he did his duty, by pointing 
 out to his country people the nonsense which, to 
 the greater part of them, is as the breath of their 
 nostrils, and which, if indulged in, as it probably 
 will be, to the same extent as hitherto, will, 
 within a very few years, bring the land which 
 he most loves beneath a foreign yoke : he does 
 not here allude to the yoke of Rome. 
 
 Instead of being ashamed, has he not rather 
 cause to be proud of a book which has had the 
 honour of being rancorously abused -and exe- 
 crated by the very people of whom the country 
 has least reason to be proud ? 
 
CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Page 
 The making of the Linch-pin. The sound Sleeper. 
 
 Breakfast. The Postillion's Departure .... 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The Man in Black. The Emperor of Germany. Nepotism. 
 Donna Olympia. Omnipotence. Camillo Astalli. -The 
 Five Propositions 9 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Necessity of Religion. The Great Indian One. Image- 
 Worship. Shakespear. The Pat Answer Krishna. 
 Amen. 17 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The Proposal. The Scotch Novel. Latitude. Miracles. 
 Pestilent Heretics. Old Fraser. Wonderful Texts. 
 No Armenian 32 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Fresh Arrivals. Pitching the Tent. Certificated Wife. 
 
 High-flying Notions 56 
 
viii CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Page 
 
 The promised Visit. Roman Fashion. Wizard and Witch. 
 Catching at Words. The Two Females. Dressing of 
 Hair. The New Roads. Belle's altered Appearance. 
 Herself again 64 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The Festival. The Gipsy Song. Piramus of Rome. The 
 Scotchman. Gypsy Names ...... 82 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The Church. The Aristocratical Pew. Days of Yore. 
 The Clergyman. " In what would a Man be Profited?" . 97 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Return from Church. The Cuckoo and Gypsy. Spiritual 
 Discourse 107 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Sunday Evening. Ursula. Action at Law. Meridiana. 
 Married already 120 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Ursula's Tale. The Patteran. The Deep Water. Second 
 Husband 144 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The Dingle at Night. The two Sides of the Question. 
 Roman Females. Filling the Kettle. The Dream. The 
 Tall Figure 157 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Visit to the Landlord. His Mortifications. Hunter and 
 his Clan. Resolution 174 
 
CONTENTS. IX 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Page 
 Preparations for the Fair. The last Lesson. The Verb 
 
 Siriel 179 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The Dawn of Day. The last Farewell. Departure for the 
 Fair. The fine Horse. Return to the Dingle. No Isopel 190 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Gloomy Forebodings. The Postman's Mother. The Let- 
 ter. Bears and Barons. The Best of Advice . . .198 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 The Public-house. Landord on his Legs again. A Blow 
 in Season. The Way of the World. The grateful Mind. 
 The Horse's Neigh 212 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Mr. Petulengro's Device. The Leathern Purse. Consent 
 to purchase a Horse . 227 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Trying the Horse. The Feats of Tawno. Man with the 
 Red Waistcoat. Disposal of Property .... 235 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Farewell to the Romans. The Landlord and his Niece. 
 Set out as a Traveller 245 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 An Adventure on the Roads. The Six Flint Stones. A 
 Rural Scene. Mead. The Old Man and his Bees . 248 
 
X CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Page 
 
 The singular Noise. Sleeping in a Meadow. The Book. 
 Cure for Wakefulness. Literary Tea Party. Poor Byron . 263 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Drivers and Front Outside Passengers. Fatigue of Body 
 and Mmd. Unexpected Greeting. My Inn. The Go- 
 vernor. Engagement 273 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 An Inn of Times gone by. A first-rate Publican. Hay and 
 Corn. Old-fashioned Ostler. Highwaymen. Mounted 
 Police. Grooming 281 
 
 CHAPTER XXY. 
 
 Stable Hartshorn. How to manage a Horse on a Journey. 
 Your best Friend 291 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 The Stage-coachmen of England- A Bully served out 
 Broughton's Guard. The Brazen Head . . . . 300 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 Francis Ardry. His Misfortunes. Dog and Lion Fight. 
 Great Men of the World 316 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 Mr. Platitude and the Man in Black. The Postillion's Ad- 
 ventures. The Lone House. A goodly Assemblage . . 327 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Deliberations with Self. Resolution. Invitation to Din- 
 ner The Commercial Traveller. The Landlord's Offer. 
 The Comet Wine . 342 
 
CONTENTS. XI 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 Page 
 Triumphal Departure. No Season like Youth. Extreme 
 
 Old Age. Beautiful England. The Ratcatcher. A Mis- 
 adventure 353 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 Novel Situation. The Elderly Individual. The Surgeon. 
 A kind Offer. Chimerical Ideas. Strange Dream . 361 
 
ONE day Cogia Efendy went to a bridal festival. The masters 
 of the feast, observing his old and coarse apparel, paid him no 
 consideration whatever. The Cogia saw that he had no chance 
 of notice ; so going out, he hurried to his house, and, putting 
 on a splendid pelisse, returned to the place of festival. No 
 sooner did he enter the door than the masters advanced to 
 meet him, and saying, " Welcome, Cogia Efendy," with all ima- 
 ginable honour and reverence, placed him at the head of the 
 table, and said, "Please to eat, Lord Cogia." Forthwith the 
 Cogia, taking hold of one of the furs of his pelisse, said, " Wel- 
 come, my pelisse ; please to eat, my lord." The masters look- 
 ing at the Cogia with great surprise, said, "What are you 
 about?" Whereupon the Cogia replied, " As it is quite evident 
 that all the honour paid, is paid to my pelisse, I think it ought 
 to have some food too." PLEASANTRIES OF THE COGIA 
 EDDIN EFENDL 
 
THE ROMANY RYE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE MAKING OP THE LINCH-PIN. THE SOUND SLEEPER. BREAK- 
 FAST. THE POSTILLION'S DEPARTURE. 
 
 I AWOKE at the first break of day, and, leaving 
 the postillion fast asleep, stepped out of the tent. 
 The dingle was dank and dripping, I lighted a 
 fire of coals, and got my forge in readiness. I 
 then ascended to the field, where the chaise was 
 standing as we had left it on the previous even- 
 ing. After looking at the cloud-stone near it, now 
 cold, and split into three pieces, I set about prying 
 narrowly into the condition of the wheel and axle- 
 tree the latter had sustained no damage of any 
 consequence, and the wheel, as far as I was able 
 to judge, was sound, being only slightly injured 
 in the box. The only thing requisite to set the 
 chaise in a travelling condition appeared to be a 
 linch-pin, which I determined to make. Going 
 VOL. I. B 
 
2 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. I. 
 
 to the coinpaiiion "wlieel,' I .took out the linch-pin, 
 wlticji; I r <&b s ied'd>wh;tVitlv me to the dingle, to 
 serve me as a model. 
 
 I found Belle by this time dressed, and seated 
 near the forge : with a slight nod to her like 
 that which a person gives who happens to see an 
 acquaintance when his mind is occupied with im- 
 portant business, I forthwith set about my work. 
 Selecting a piece of iron which I thought would 
 serve my purpose, I placed it in the fire, and 
 plying the bellows in a furious manner, soon 
 made it hot ; then seizing it with the tongs, I 
 laid it on my anvil, and began to beat it with 
 my hammer, according to the rules of my art. 
 The dingle resounded with my strokes. Belle 
 sat still, and occasionally smiled, but suddenly 
 started up, and retreated towards her encamp- 
 ment, on a spark which I purposely sent in her 
 direction alighting on her knee. I found the 
 making of a linch-pin no easy matter ; it was, 
 however, less difficult than the fabrication of a 
 pony-shoe ; my work, indeed, was much facili- 
 tated by my having another pin to look at. In 
 about three-quarters of an hour I had succeeded 
 tolerably well, and had produced a linch-pin 
 which I thought would serve. During all 
 this time, notwithstanding the noise which 
 
Ch. L] THE ROMANY RYE. 3 
 
 I was making, the postillion never showed his 
 face. His non-appearance at first alarmed me : 
 I was afraid he might be dead, but, on looking 
 into the tent, I found him still buried in the 
 soundest sleep. " He must surely be descended 
 from one of the seven sleepers/' said I, as I 
 turned away, and resumed my work. My work 
 finished, I took a little oil, leather, and sand, and 
 polished the pin -as well as I could ; then, sum- 
 moning Belle, we both went to the chaise, where, 
 with her assistance, I put on the wheel. The 
 linch-pin which I had made fitted its place very 
 well, and having replaced the other, I gazed at 
 the chaise for some time with my heart full of 
 that satisfaction which results from the conscious- 
 ness of having achieved a great action ; then, after 
 looking at Belle in the hope of obtaining a com- 
 pliment from her lips, which did not come, I re- 
 turned to the dingle, without saying a word, fol- 
 lowed by her. Belle set about making prepara- 
 tions for breakfast; and I, taking the kettle, went 
 and filled it at the spring. Having hung it over 
 the fire, I went to the tent in which the postil- 
 lion was still sleeping, and called upon him to 
 arise. He awoke with a start, and stared around 
 him at first with the utmost surprise, not un- 
 mixed, I could observe, with a certain degree of 
 
 B 2 
 
4 THE ROMANY EYE. [Ch. I. 
 
 fear. At last, looking in my face, he appeared to 
 recollect himself. " I had quite forgot/' said he, 
 as he got up, " where I was, and all that hap- 
 pened yesterday. However, I remember now 
 the whole affair, thunder-storm, thunder-bolt, 
 frightened horses, and all your kindness. Come, 
 I must see after my coach and horses ; I hope we 
 shall be able to repair the damage." " The 
 damage is already quite repaired/' said I, " as 
 you will see, if you come to the field above/' 
 "You don't say so," said the postillion, coming 
 out of the tent ; " well, I am mightily beholden to 
 you. Good morning, young gentlewoman," said 
 he, addressing Belle, who, having finished her 
 preparations, was seated near the fire. " Good 
 morning, young man," said Belle, " I suppose you 
 would be glad of some breakfast ; however, you 
 must wait a little, the kettle does not boil." 
 " Come and look at your chaise," said I ; " but 
 tell me how it happened that the noise which 
 I have been making did not awake you ; for 
 three-quarters of an hour at least I was ham- 
 mering close at your ear." " I heard you all the 
 time," said the postillion, " but your hammering 
 made me sleep all the sounder ; I am used to 
 hear hammering in my morning sleep. There 's 
 a forge close by the room where I sleep when 
 
Ch. I.] THE ROMANY RYE. 5 
 
 I 'm at home, at my inn; for we have all kinds of 
 conveniences at my inn forge, carpenter's shop, 
 and wheelwright's, so that when I heard you 
 hammering, I thought, no doubt, that it was the 
 old noise, and that I was comfortable in my bed 
 at my own inn." We now ascended to the field, 
 where I showed the postillion his chaise. He 
 looked at the pin attentively, rubbed his hands, 
 and gave a loud laugh. " Is it not well done ?" 
 said I. " It will do till I get home/' he replied. 
 "And that is all you have to say?" I demanded. 
 " And that 's a good deal/' said he, " considering 
 who made it." "But don't be offended," he 
 added, " I shall prize it all the more for its being 
 made by a gentleman, and no blacksmith ; and 
 so will my governor, when I show it to him. 
 I shan't let it remain where it is, but will keep 
 it, as a remembrance of you, as long as I live." 
 He then again rubbed his hands with great 
 glee, and said, " I will now go and see after my 
 horses, and then to breakfast, partner, if you 
 please." Suddenly, however, looking at his hands, 
 he said, " Before sitting down to breakfast, I am 
 in the habit of washing my hands and face : I 
 suppose you could not furnish me with a little 
 soap and water." " As much water as you please," 
 said I, " but if you want soap, I must go and 
 
6 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. I. 
 
 trouble the young gentlewoman for some." " By 
 no means/' said the postillion, " water will do at 
 a pinch/' "Follow me," said I, and leading 
 him to the pond of the frogs and newts, I said, 
 " this is my ewer ; you are welcome to part of 
 it the water is so soft that it is scarcely neces- 
 sary to add soap to it ; " then lying down on the 
 bank, I plunged my head into the water, then 
 scrubbed my hands and face, and afterwards 
 wiped them with some long grass which grew on 
 the margin of the pond. " Bravo," said the pos- 
 tillion, "I see you know how to make a shift :" 
 he then followed my example, declared he never 
 felt more refreshed in his life, and, giving a bound, 
 said, " he would go and look after his horses." 
 
 We then went to look after the horses, which 
 we found not much the worse for having spent 
 the night in the open air. My companion again 
 inserted their heads in the corn-bags, and, leaving 
 the animals to discuss their corn, returned with 
 me to the dingle, where we found the kettle 
 boiling. We sat down, and Belle made tea and 
 did the honours of the meal. The postillion was 
 in high spirits, ate heartily, and, to Belle's evident 
 satisfaction, declared that he had never drank 
 better tea in his life, or indeed any half so good. 
 Breakfast over, he said that he must now go and 
 
Ch. I.] THE KOMANY RYE. 7 
 
 harness his horses, as it was high time for him 
 to return to his inn. Belle gave him her hand 
 and wished him farewell : the postillion shook 
 her hand warmly, and was advancing close up 
 to her for what purpose I cannot say where- 
 upon Belle, withdrawing her hand, drew herself 
 up with an air which caused the postillion to 
 retreat a step or two with an exceedingly 
 sheepish look. Recovering himself, however, he 
 made a low bow, and proceeded up the path. 
 I attended him, and helped to harness his horses 
 and put them to the vehicle ; he then shook me 
 by the hand, and taking the reins and whip 
 mounted to his seat ; ere he drove away he thus 
 addressed me : " If ever I forget your kindness 
 and that of the young woman below, dash my 
 buttons. If ever either of you should enter my 
 inn you may depend upon a warm welcome, the 
 best that can be set before you, and no expense 
 to either, for I will give both of you the best of 
 characters to the governor, who is the very best 
 fellow upon all the road. As for your linch- 
 pin, I trust it will serve till I get home, when I 
 will take it out and keep it in remembrance of 
 you all the days of my life : " then giving the 
 horses a jerk with his reins, he cracked his whip 
 and drove off. 
 
8 THE ROMANY EYE. [Ch. I. 
 
 I returned to the dingle, Belle had removed 
 the breakfast things, and was busy in her own 
 encampment : nothing occurred, worthy of being 
 related, for two hours, at the end of which time 
 Belle departed on a short expedition, and I 
 again found myself alone in the dingle. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE MAN IN BLACK. THE EMPEROR OP GERMANY. NEPOTISM. 
 
 DONNA OLYMPIA. OMNIPOTENCE. CAMILLO ASTALLI. THE FIVE 
 
 PROPOSITIONS. 
 
 IN the evening I received another visit from the 
 man in black. I had been taking a stroll in 
 the neighbourhood, and was sitting in the dingle 
 in rather a listless manner, scarcely knowing how 
 to employ myself; his coming, therefore, was by 
 no means disagreeable to me. I produced the 
 hollands and glass from my tent, where Isopel 
 Berners had requested me to deposit them, and 
 also some lump sugar, then taking the gotch I 
 fetched water from the spring, and, sitting down, 
 begged the man in black to help himself; he 
 was not slow in complying with my desire, and 
 prepared for himself a glass of hollands and 
 water with a lump of sugar in it. After he had 
 taken two or three sips with evident satisfaction, 
 I, remembering his chuckling exclamation of 
 " Go to Rome for money/' when he last left the 
 
 B 3 
 
1 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. II. 
 
 dingle, took the liberty, after a little conversa- 
 tion, of reminding him of it, whereupon, with 
 n he ! he ! he ! he replied, " Your idea was not 
 quite so original as I supposed. After leaving you 
 the other night I remembered having read of an 
 emperor of Germany who conceived the idea of 
 applying to Rome for money, and actually put 
 it into practice. 
 
 " Urban the Eighth then occupied the papal 
 chair, of the family of the Barbarini, nicknamed 
 the Mosche, or Flies, from the circumstance of 
 bees being their armorial bearing. The Emperor 
 having exhausted all his money in endeavouring 
 to defend the church against Gustavus Adolphus, 
 the great King of Sweden, who was bent on its 
 destruction, applied in his necessity to the Pope 
 for a loan of money. The Pope, however, and 
 his relations, whose cellars were at that time 
 full of the money of the church, which they had 
 been plundering for years, refused to lend him 
 a scudo ; whereupon a pasquinade picture was 
 stuck up at Rome, representing the church lying 
 on a bed, gashed with dreadful wounds, and 
 beset all over with flies, which were sucking 
 he)*, whilst the Emperor of Germany was kneel- 
 ing before her with a miserable face, requesting 
 a little money towards carrying on the war 
 
Ch. II.] THE ROMANY RYE. 1 1 
 
 against the heretics, to which the poor church 
 was made to say : ' How can I assist you, my 
 champion, do you not see that the flies have 
 sucked me to the very bones ?' Which story, 7 ' 
 said he, " shows that the idea of going to Rome 
 for money was not quite so original as I ima- 
 gined the other night, though utterly prepos- 
 terous. 
 
 " This affair/' said he, " occurred in what were 
 called the days of nepotism. Certain popes, who 
 wished to make themselves in some degree inde- 
 pendent of the cardinals, surrounded themselves 
 with their nephews, and the rest of their fa- 
 mily, who sucked the church and Christendom 
 as much as they could, none doing so more effec- 
 tually than the relations of Urban the Eighth, 
 at whose death, according to the book called the 
 'Nipotismo di Roma/ there were in the Barbarini 
 family two hundred and twenty-seven govern- 
 ments, abbeys and high dignities ; and so much 
 hard cash in their possession that threescore and 
 ten mules were scarcely sufficient to convey the 
 plunder of one of them to Palestrina." He 
 added, however, that it was probable that Chris- 
 tendom fared better whilst the popes were thus 
 independent, as it was less sucked, whereas 
 before and after that period, it was sucked by 
 
1 2 THE ROMANY EYE. [Oh. II. 
 
 hundreds instead of tens, by the cardinals and 
 all their relations, instead of by the pope and 
 his nephews only. 
 
 Then, after drinking rather copiously of his 
 hollands, he said that it was certainly no bad 
 idea of the popes to surround themselves with 
 nephews, on whom they bestowed great church 
 dignities, as by so doing they were tolerably 
 safe from poison, whereas a pope, if abandoned 
 to the cardinals, might at any time be made 
 away with by them, provided they thought that 
 he lived too long, or that he seemed disposed to 
 do anything which they disliked ; adding, that 
 Ganganelli would never have been poisoned pro- 
 vided he had had nephews about him to take 
 care of his life, and to see that nothing unholy 
 was put into his food, or a bustling stirring bro- 
 ther's wife like Donna Olympia. He then with 
 a he 3 he ! he ! asked me if I had ever read the 
 book called the " Nipotismo di Roma " and on 
 my replying in the negative, he told me that it 
 was a very curious and entertaining book, 
 which he occasionally looked at in an idle hour, 
 and proceeded to relate to me anecdotes out of 
 the " Nipotismo di Roma," about the successor of 
 Urban, Innocent the Tenth, and Donna Olympia, 
 showing how fond he was of her, and how 
 
Ch. II.] THE ROMANY RYE. 1 3 
 
 she cooked his food, and kept the cardinals 
 away from it, and how she and her creatures 
 plundered Christendom, with the sanction of the 
 Pope, until Christendom, becoming enraged, in- 
 sisted that he should put her away, which he did 
 for a time, putting a nephew one Camillo As- 
 talli in her place, in which, however, he did not 
 continue long ; for the Pope conceiving a pique 
 against him, banished him from his sight, and re- 
 called Donna Olympia, who took care of his 
 food, and plundered Christendom until Pope 
 Innocent died. 
 
 I said that I only wondered that between 
 pope and cardinals the whole system of Rome 
 had not long fallen to the ground, and was told 
 in reply, that its not having fallen was the 
 strongest proof of its vital power, and the abso- 
 lute necessity for the existence of the system. 
 That the system, notwithstanding its occasional 
 disorders, went on. Popes and cardinals might 
 prey upon its bowels, and sell its interests, but 
 the system survived. The cutting off of this 
 or that member was not able to cause Borne any 
 vital loss ; for, as soon as she lost a member, the 
 loss was supplied by her own inherent vitality ; 
 though her popes had been poisoned by cardi- 
 nals, and her cardinals by popes ; and though 
 
1 4 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. II. 
 
 priests occasionally poisoned popes, cardinals, and 
 each other, after all that had been, and might 
 be, she had still, and would ever have, her 
 priests, cardinals, and pope. 
 
 Finding the man in black so communicative 
 and reasonable, I determined to make the best of 
 my opportunity, and learn from him all I could 
 with respect to the papal system, and told him 
 that he would particularly oblige me by telling 
 me who the Pope of Rome was ; and received 
 for answer, that he was an old man elected by 
 a majority of cardinals to the papal chair ; who, 
 immediately after his election, became omnipo- 
 tent and equal to God on earth. On my beg- 
 ging him not to talk such nonsense, and asking 
 him how a person could be omnipotent who 
 could not always preserve himself from poison, 
 even when fenced round by nephews, or pro- 
 tected by a bustling woman, he, after taking a 
 long sip of hollands and water, told me that I 
 must not expect too much from omnipotence ; for 
 example, that as it would be unreasonable to ex- 
 pect that One above could annihilate the past 
 for instance, the Seven Years' War, or the French 
 Revolution though any one who believed in 
 Him would acknowledge Him to be omnipotent, 
 so would it be unreasonable for the faithful to 
 
Ch. II.] THE ROMANY RYE. 1 5 
 
 expect that the Pope could always guard himself 
 from poison. Then, after looking at me for a mo- 
 ment stedfastly, and taking another sip, he told me 
 that popes had frequently done impossibilities ; 
 for example, Innocent the Tenth had created 
 a nephew : for, not liking particularly any of his 
 real nephews, he had created the said Camillo 
 Astalli his nephew ; asking me, with a he ! he ! 
 " What but omnipotence could make a young man 
 nephew to a person to whom he was not in the 
 slightest degree related ?" On my observing that 
 of course no one believed that the young fellow 
 was really the pope's nephew, though the pope 
 might have adopted him as such, the man in 
 black replied, "that the reality of the nephewship 
 of Camillo Astalli had hitherto never become a 
 point of faith ; let, however, the present pope, 
 or any other pope, proclaim that it is necessary 
 to believe in the reality of the nephewship of 
 Camillo Astalli, and see whether the faithful 
 would not believe in it. Who can doubt that/' 
 he added, " seeing that they believe in the reality 
 of the five propositions of Jansenius ? The 
 Jesuits, wishing to ruin the Jansenists, induced 
 a pope to declare that such and such damnable 
 opinions, which they called five propositions, 
 were to be found in. a book written by Jansen, 
 
] 6 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. II. 
 
 though in reality no such propositions were to be 
 found there ; whereupon the existence of these 
 propositions became forthwith a point of faith 
 to the faithful. Do you then think/' he de- 
 manded, " that there is one of the faithful who 
 would not swallow, if called upon, the nephew- 
 ship of Camillo Astalli as easily as the five pro- 
 positions of Jansenius ?" " Surely," then/' said 
 I, " the faithful must be a pretty pack of sim- 
 pletons ! " Whereupon the man in black ex- 
 claimed, " What ! a Protestant, and an infringer 
 of the rights of faith ! Here 's a fellow, who 
 would feel himself insulted if any one were to 
 ask him how he could believe in the miraculous 
 conception, calling people simpletons who swal- 
 low the five propositions of Jansenius, and are 
 disposed, if called upon, to swallow the reality 
 of the nephewship of Camillo Astalli/' 
 
 I was about to speak, when I was interrupted 
 by the arrival t)f Belle. After unharnessing her 
 donkey, and adjusting her person a little, she 
 came and sat down by us. In the meantime I 
 had helped my companion to some more hollands 
 and water, and had plunged with him into yet 
 deeper discourse. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 NECESSITY OF RELIGION. THE GREAT INDIAN ONE. IMAGE- WORSHIP. 
 SHAKESPEAR. THE PAT ANSWER. KRISHNA. AMEN. 
 
 HAVING told the man in black that I should 
 like to know all the truth with regard to the 
 Pope and his system, he assured me he should 
 be delighted to give me all the information in 
 his power ; that he had come to the dingle, not 
 so much for the sake of the good xjheer which 
 I was in the habit of giving him, as in the hope 
 of inducing me to enlist under the banners of 
 Rome, and to fight in her cause ; and that he 
 had no doubt that, by speaking out frankly to 
 me, he ran the best chance of winning me 
 over. 
 
 He then proceeded to tell me that the ex- 
 perience of countless ages had proved the neces- 
 sity of religion ; the necessity, he would admit, 
 was only for simpletons ; but as nine-tenths of 
 the dwellers upon this earth were simpletons, it 
 would never do for sensible people to run coun- 
 
1 8 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. III. 
 
 ter to their folly, but, on the contrary, it was 
 their wisest course to encourage them in it, 
 always provided that, by so doing, sensible 
 people could derive advantage ; that the tru]y 
 sensible people of this world were the priests, 
 who, without caring a straw for religion for its 
 own sake, made use of it as a cord by which 
 to draw the simpletons after them ; that there 
 were many religions in this world, all of which 
 had been turned to excellent account by the 
 priesthood ; but that the one the best adapted 
 for the purposes of priestcraft was the popish, 
 which, he said, was the oldest in the world and 
 the best calculated to endure. On my inquiring 
 what he meant by saying the popish religion 
 was the oldest in the world, whereas there could 
 be no doubt that the Greek and Koman reli- 
 gion had existed long before it, to say nothing 
 of the old Indian religion still in existence and 
 vigour ; he said, with a nod, after taking a sip 
 at his glass, that, between me and him, the 
 popish religion, that of Greece and Home, and 
 the old Indian system were, in reality, one and 
 the same. 
 
 "You told me that you intended to be 
 frank/' said I ; " but, however frank you may be, 
 I think you are rather wild/' 
 
Ch. III.] THE ROMANY RYE. 1 9 
 
 " We priests of Rome/' said the man in black, 
 " even those amongst us who do not go much 
 abroad, know a great deal about church matters, 
 of which you heretics have very little idea. 
 Those of our brethren of the Propaganda, on 
 their return home from distant missions, not 
 unfrequently tell us very strange things relating 
 to our dear mother ; for example, our first mis- 
 sionaries to the East were not slow in discover- 
 ing and telling to their brethren that our reli- 
 gion and the great Indian one were identical, 
 no more difference between them than between 
 Ram and Rome. Priests, convents, beads, 
 prayers, processions, fastings, penances, all the 
 same, not forgetting anchorites, and vermin, 
 he ! he ! The pope they found under the title 
 of the grand lama, a sucking child surrounded 
 by an immense number of priests. Our good 
 brethren, some two hundred years ago, had a 
 hearty laugh, which their successors have often 
 re-echoed ; they said that helpless suckling and 
 its priests put them so much in mind of their 
 own old man, surrounded by his cardinals, he ! 
 he ! Old age is second childhood." 
 
 " Did they find Christ?" said I. 
 
 " They found him too," said the man in black, 
 " that is, they saw his image ; he is considered 
 
20 THE KOMANY EYE. [Ch. III. 
 
 in India as a pure kind of being, and on that 
 account, perhaps, is kept there rather in the 
 back-ground, even as he is here/' 
 
 " All this is very mysterious to me," said I. 
 
 " Very likely/' said the man in black ; " but 
 of this I am tolerably sure, and so are most of 
 those of Rome, that modern Rome had its reli- 
 gion from ancient Rome, which had its religion 
 from the East/' 
 
 " But how r I demanded. 
 
 "It was brought about, I believe, by the 
 wanderings of nations," said the man in black. 
 " A brother of the Propaganda, a very learned 
 man, once told me I do not mean Mezzofanti, 
 who has not five ideas this brother once told 
 me that all we of the Old World, from Calcutta 
 to Dublin, are of the same stock, and were ori- 
 ginally of the same language, and " 
 
 " All of one religion/' I put in. 
 
 " All of one religion," said the man in black ; 
 " and now follow different modifications of the 
 same religion." 
 
 "We Christians are not image- worshippers," 
 said I. 
 
 " You heretics are not, you mean," said the 
 man in black ; " but you will be put down, just 
 as you have always been, though others may 
 
Ch. III.] THE ROMANY RYE. 21 
 
 rise up after you ; the true religion is image- 
 worship ; people may strive against it, but they 
 will only work themselves to an oil ; how did it 
 fare with that Greek Emperor, the Iconoclast, 
 what was his name, Leon the Isaurian ? Did not 
 his image-breaking cost him Italy, the fairest 
 province of his empire, and did not ten fresh 
 images start up at home for every one which he 
 demolished ? Oh ! you little know the craving 
 which the soul sometimes feels after a good bodily 
 image. " 
 
 " I have indeed no conception of it," said I ; 
 " I have an abhorrence of idolatry the idea of 
 bowing before a graven figure/' 
 
 " The idea, indeed," said Belle, who had now 
 joined us. 
 
 " Did you never bow before that of Shakes- 
 pear ?" said the man in black, addressing himself 
 to me, after a low bow to Belle. 
 
 " I don't remember that I ever did," said I, 
 " but even suppose I did ?" 
 
 " Suppose you did," said the man in black ; 
 11 shame on you, Mr. Hater of Idolatry ; why 
 the very supposition brings you to the ground ; 
 you must make figures of Shakespear, must 
 you ? then why not of St. Antonio, or Ignacio, 
 or of a greater personage still ? 1 know what 
 
22 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. III. 
 
 you are going to say/' he cried, interrupting 
 me as I was about to speak. " You don't 
 make his image in order to pay it divine 
 honours, but only to look at it, and think of 
 Shakespear ; but this looking at a thing in order 
 to think of a person is the very basis of ido- 
 latry. Shakespear 's works are not sufficient 
 for you ; no more are the Bible or the legend 
 of Saint Anthony or Saint Ignacio for us, that 
 is for those of us who believe in them ; I tell 
 you, Zingaro, that no religion can exist long 
 which rejects a good bodily image/' 
 
 " Do you think," said I, " that Shakespear's 
 works would not exist without his image ?" 
 
 " I believe/' said the man in black, " that 
 Shakespear 's image is looked at more than his 
 works, and will be looked at, and perhaps 
 adored, when they are forgotten. I am surprised 
 that they have not been forgotten long ago ; I 
 am no admirer of them/' 
 
 "But I can't imagine," said I, "how you 
 will put aside the authority of Moses. If 
 Moses strove against image -worship, should 
 not his doing so be conclusive as to the impro- 
 priety of the practice ; what higher authority 
 can you have than that of Moses ?" 
 
 "The practice of the great majority of the 
 
Ch. III.] THE ROMANY RYE. 23 
 
 human race/' said the man in black. " and the 
 recurrence to image worship, where image wor- 
 ship has been abolished. Do you know that 
 Moses is considered by the church as no better 
 than a heretic, and though, for particular reasons, 
 it has been obliged to adopt his writings, the 
 adoption was merely a sham one, as it never 
 paid the slightest attention to them? No, no, 
 the church was never led by Moses, nor by one 
 mightier than he, whose doctrine it has equally 
 nullified I allude to Krishna in his second 
 avatar ; the church, it is true, governs in his 
 name, but not unfrequently gives him the lie, if 
 he happens to have said anything which it dis- 
 likes. Did you never hear the reply which 
 Padre Paolo Segani made to the French Protest- 
 ant Jean Anthoine Guerin, who had asked him 
 whether it was easier for Christ to have been 
 mistaken in his Gospel, than for the Pope to be 
 mistaken in his decrees?" 
 
 " I never heard their names before/' said I. 
 
 " The answer was pat/' said the man in black, 
 " though he who made it was confessedly the 
 most ignorant fellow of the very. ignorant order 
 to which he belonged, the Augustine. Christ 
 might err as a man/' said he, " but the Pope 
 
24 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. III. 
 
 can never err, being God" The whole story 
 is related in the Nipotismo. 
 
 " I wonder you should ever have troubled 
 yourselves with Christ at all," said I. 
 
 "What was to be done?" said the man in 
 black ; " the power of that name suddenly came 
 over Europe, like the power of a mighty wind ; 
 it was said to have come from Judea, and from 
 Judea it probably came when it first began to 
 agitate minds in these parts ; but it seems to 
 have been known in the remote East, more or 
 less for thousands of years previously. It filled 
 people's minds with madness ; it was followed 
 by books which were never much regarded, as 
 they contained little of insanity; but the name ! 
 what fury that breathed into people ! the books 
 were about peace and gentleness, but the name 
 was the most horrible of war-cries those who 
 wished to uphold old names at first strove to 
 oppose it, but their efforts were feeble, and they 
 had no good war-cry ; what was Mars as a war- 
 cry compared with the name of . . . . ? It was 
 said that they persecuted terribly, but who said 
 so ? The Christians. The Christians could have 
 given them a lesson in the art of persecution, 
 and eventually did so. None but Christians 
 
Ch. III.] THE ROMANY RYE. 25 
 
 have ever been good persecutors; well, the old 
 religion succumbed, Christianity prevailed, for 
 the ferocious is sure to prevail over the gentle." 
 
 " I thought/' said I, " you stated a little time 
 ago that the Popish religion and the ancient 
 Roman are the same ? " 
 
 " In every point but that name, that Krishna 
 and the fury and love of persecution which it 
 inspired/' said the man in black. " A hot blast 
 came from the East, sounding Krishna ; it abso- 
 lutely maddened people's minds, and the people 
 would call themselves his children ; we will not 
 belong to Jupiter any longer, we will belong to 
 Krishna ; and they did belong to Krishna, that 
 is in name, but in nothing else ; for who ever 
 cared for Krishna in the Christian world, or 
 who ever regarded the words attributed to Him, 
 or put them in practice ? " 
 
 " Why, we Protestants regard his words, and 
 endeavour to practise what they enjoin as much 
 as possible." 
 
 " But you reject his image/' said the man in 
 black ; " better reject his words than his image : 
 no religion can exist long which rejects a good 
 bodily image. Why, the very negro barbarians 
 of High Barbary could give you a lesson on that 
 
 VOL. I. G 
 
26 THE EOMANY RYE. [Ch. III. 
 
 point ; they have their fetish images, to which 
 they look for help in their afflictions ; they have 
 likewise a high priest, whom they call ,...** 
 
 " Mumbo Jumbo/' said I ; {< I know all 
 about him already ." 
 
 " How came you to know anything about 
 him ?" said the man in black, with a look of 
 some surprise. 
 
 " Some of us poor Protestant tinkers/' said I, 
 " though we live in dingles, are also acquainted 
 with a thing or two/' 
 
 " I really believe you are/' said the man in 
 black, staring at me ; " but, in connection with 
 this Mumbo Jumbo, I could relate to you a 
 comical story about a fellow, an English servant, 
 I once met at Rome." 
 
 " It would be quite unnecessary," said I ; " I 
 would much sooner hear you talk about Krishna, 
 his words and image." 
 
 " Spoken like a true heretic/' said the man in 
 black ; " one of the faithful would have placed 
 his image before his words ; for what are all the 
 words in the world compared with a good bodily 
 image ?" 
 
 " I believe you occasionally quote his words \" 
 said I, 
 
Ch. III.] THE EOMANY RYE. 27 
 
 " He ! he !" said the man in black ; " occa- 
 sionally." 
 
 " For example," said I, " upon this rock I 
 will found my church." 
 
 " He ! he !" said the man in black ; " you must 
 really become one of us." 
 
 " Yet you must have had some difficulty in 
 getting the rock to Rome?" 
 
 " None whatever," said the man in black ; 
 " faith can remove mountains, to say nothing of 
 rocks ho ! ho !" 
 
 " But I cannot imagine," said I, " what ad- 
 vantage you could derive from perverting those 
 words of Scripture in which the Saviour talks 
 about eating his body." 
 
 " I do not know, indeed, why we troubled 
 our heads about the matter at all," said the man 
 in black ; " but when you talk about perverting 
 the meaning of the text, you speak ignorantly, 
 Mr. Tinker ; when he whom you call the Saviour 
 gave his followers the sop, and bade them eat it, 
 telling them it was his body, he delicately alluded 
 to what it was incumbent upon them to do after 
 his death, namely, to eat his body." 
 
 " You do not mean to say that he intended 
 they should actually eat his body?" 
 
 " Then you suppose ignorantly," said the man 
 
 C 2 
 
28 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. III. 
 
 in black ; " eating the bodies of the dead was 
 a heathenish custom, practised by the heirs and 
 legatees of people who left property ; and this 
 custom is alluded to in the text." 
 
 " But what has the New Testament to do with 
 heathen customs," said I, "except to destroy 
 them ?" 
 
 " More than you suppose/' said the man in 
 black. " We priests of Rome, who have long 
 lived at Rome, know much better what the New 
 Testament is made of than the heretics and their 
 theologians, not forgetting their Tinkers ; though 
 I confess some of the latter have occasionally sur- 
 prised us for example, Bunyan. The New 
 Testament is crowded with allusions to heathen 
 customs, and with words connected with pagan 
 sorcery. Now, with respect to words, I would 
 fain have you, who pretend to be a philologist, 
 tell me the meaning of Amen ?" 
 
 I made no answer. 
 
 "We, of Rome," said the man in black, 
 "know two or three things of which the here- 
 tics are quite ignorant ; for example, there are 
 those amongst us those, too, who do not pre- 
 tend to be philologists who know what amen is, 
 and, moreover, how we got it. We got it from 
 our ancestors, the priests of ancient Rome ; and 
 
Ch. III.] THE KOMANY RYE. 29 
 
 they got the word from their ancestors of the 
 East, the priests of Buddh and Brahma." 
 
 " And what is the meaning of the word ? " I 
 demanded. 
 
 " Amen/' said the man in black, " is a mo- 
 dification of the old Hindoo formula, Omani 
 batsikhom, by the almost ceaseless repetition of 
 which the Indians hope to be received finally to 
 the rest or state of forgetfulness of Buddh or 
 Brahma ; a foolish practice you will say, but are 
 you heretics much wiser, who are continually 
 sticking amen to the end of your prayers, little 
 knowing when you do so, that you are consign- 
 ing yourselves to the repose of Buddh ? Oh what 
 hearty laughs our missionaries have had when 
 comparing the eternally sounding Eastern gib- 
 berish of Omani batsikhom, Omani batsikhom, 
 and the Ave Maria and Amen Jesus of our 
 own idiotical devotees/' 
 
 " I have nothing to say about the Ave Marias 
 and Amens of your superstitious devotees/' said 
 I ; " I dare say that they use them nonsensically 
 enough, but in putting Amen to the end of a 
 prayer, we merely intend to express, ' So let 
 it be/" 
 
 " It means nothing of the kind/' said the 
 man in black ; " and the Hindoos might just as 
 
30 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. III. 
 
 well put your national oath at the end of their 
 prayers, as perhaps they will after a great many 
 thousand years, when English is forgotten, and 
 only a few words of it remembered by dim tra- 
 dition without being understood. How strange 
 if, after the lapse of four thousand years, the 
 Hindoos should damn themselves to the blind- 
 ness so dear to their present masters, even as 
 their masters at present consign themselves to 
 the forgetfulness so dear to the Hindoos ; but 
 my glass has been empty for a considerable 
 time ; perhaps Bellissima Biondina," said he, 
 addressing Belle, " you will deign to reple- 
 nish it?" 
 
 " I shall do no such thing/' said Belle, " you 
 have drank quite enough, and talked more than 
 enough, and to tell you the truth I wish you 
 would leave us alone." 
 
 " Shame on you, Belle," said I, " consider the 
 obligations of hospitality." 
 
 " I am sick of that word," said Belle, " you 
 are so frequently misusing it ; were this place 
 not Mumpers' Dingle, and consequently as free 
 to the fellow as ourselves, I would lead him out 
 of it." 
 
 "Pray be quiet, Belle," said I. "You had 
 better help yourself," said I, addressing myself 
 
Ch. III.J THE ROMANY RYE. 3 1 
 
 to the man in black, " the lady is angry with 
 you/' 
 
 " I am sorry for it," said the man in black ; 
 " if she is angry with me, I am not so with her, 
 and shall be always proud to wait upon her ; in 
 the meantime I will wait upon myself/' 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE PROPOSAL. THE SCOTCH NOYEL. LATITUDE. MIRACLES. PES- 
 TILENT HERETICS. OLD FRASER. WONDERFUL TEXTS. NO ARME- 
 NIAN. 
 
 THE man in black having helped himself to some 
 more of his favourite beverage, and tasted it, I 
 thus addressed him : " The evening is getting 
 rather advanced, and I can see that this lady, 
 pointing to Belle, is anxious for her tea, which 
 she prefers to take cosily and comfortably with 
 me in the dingle ; the place, it is true, is as 
 free to you as to ourselves, nevertheless, as 
 we are located here by necessity, whilst you 
 merely come as a visitor, I must take the liberty 
 of telling you that we shall be glad to be 
 alone, as soon as you have said what you have 
 to say, and have finished the glass of refresh- 
 ment at present in your hand. I think you 
 said some time ago that one of your motives for 
 coming hither was to induce me to enlist under 
 the banner of Rome. I wish to know whether 
 that was really the case ? " 
 
Ch. IV.] THE KOMANY RYE. 33 
 
 " Decidedly so," said the man in black ; " I 
 come here principally in the hope of enlisting 
 you in our regiment, in which I have no doubt 
 you could do us excellent service/' 
 
 " Would you enlist my companion as well ? " 
 I demanded. 
 
 " We should be only too proud to have her 
 among us, whether she comes with you or 
 alone/' said the man in black, with a polite bow 
 to Belle. 
 
 " Before we give you an answer/' I replied, 
 " I would fain know more about you ; perhaps 
 you will declare your name ?" 
 
 " That I will never do," said the man in 
 black ; " no one in England knows it but myself, 
 and I will not declare it, even in a dingle ; as 
 for the rest, Sono un Prete Cattolico Appostolico 
 that is all that many a one of us can say 
 for himself, and it assuredly means a great deal." 
 
 " We will now proceed to business," said I. 
 " You must be aware that we English are gene- 
 rally considered a self-interested people." 
 
 " And with considerable justice," said the 
 man in black, drinking. " Well, you are a per- 
 son of acute perception, and I will presently 
 make it evident to you that it would be to 
 your interest to join with us. You are at 
 
 c 3 
 
34 THE EOMANY EYE. [Ch. IV. 
 
 present, evidently, in very needy circumstances, 
 and are lost, not only to yourself, but the world ; 
 but should you enlist with us, I could find you 
 an occupation not only agreeable, but one in 
 which your talents would have free scope. I 
 would introduce you in the various grand houses 
 here in England, to which I have myself admis- 
 sion, as a surprising young gentleman of infinite 
 learning, who by dint of study has discovered 
 that the Roman is the only true faith. I tell 
 you confidently that our popish females would 
 make a saint, nay a God of you ; they are 
 fools enough for anything. There is one person 
 in particular with whom I should wish to make 
 you acquainted, in the hope that you would 
 be able to help me to perform good service to 
 the holy see. He is a gouty old fellow, of some 
 learning, residing in an old hall, near the great 
 western seaport, and is one of the very few 
 amongst the English Catholics possessing a grain 
 of sense. I think you could help us to govern 
 him, for he is not unfrequently disposed to be 
 restive, asks us strange questions occasionally 
 threatens us with his crutch ; and behaves so 
 that we are often afraid that we shall lose him, 
 or, rather, his property, which he has bequeathed 
 to us, and which is enormous. I am sure that 
 
Ch. IV.] THE ROMANY RYE. 35 
 
 you could help us to deal with him ; sometimes 
 with your humour, sometimes with your learning, 
 and perhaps occasionally with your fists/'' 
 
 " And in what manner would you provide for 
 my companion?" said I. 
 
 " We would place her at once/' said the man 
 in black, "in the house of two highly respectable 
 Catholic ladies in this neighbourhood, where she 
 would be treated with every care and considera- 
 tion till her conversion should be accomplished 
 in a regular manner ; we would then remove 
 her to a female monastic establishment, where, 
 after undergoing a year's probation, during which 
 time she would be instructed in every elegant 
 accomplishment, she should take the veil. Her 
 advancement would speedily follow, for, with 
 such a face and figure, she would make a capital 
 lady abbess, especially in Italy, to which country 
 she would probably be sent ; ladies of her hair 
 and complexion to say nothing of her height 
 being a curiosity in the south. With a little 
 care and management she could soon obtain a 
 vast reputation for sanctity ; and who knows 
 but after her death she might become a glorified 
 saint he ! he ! Sister Maria Theresa, for that 
 is the name I propose you should bear. Holy 
 Mother Maria Theresa glorified and celestial 
 
36 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. IV. 
 
 saint, I have the honour of drinking to your 
 health/' and the man in black drank. 
 
 "Well, Belle/' said I, "what have you to 
 say to the gentleman's proposal?" 
 
 " That if he goes on in this way I will break 
 his glass against his mouth/' 
 
 " You have heard the lady's answer," said I. 
 
 " I have," said the man in black, " and shall 
 not press the matter. I can't help, however, 
 repeating that she would make a capital lady 
 abbess ; she would keep the nuns in order, I 
 warrant her ; no easy matter ! Break the glass 
 against my mouth he ! he ! How she would 
 send the holy utensils flying at the nuns' heads 
 occasionally, and just the person to wring the 
 nose of Satan should he venture to appear one 
 night in her cell in the shape of a handsome 
 black man. No offence, madam, no offence, 
 pray retain your seat," said he, observing 
 that Belle had started up ; "I mean no offence. 
 Well, if you will not consent to be an abbess, 
 perhaps you will consent to follow this young 
 Zingaro, and to co-operate with him and us. I 
 am a priest, madam, and can join you both in 
 an instant, connubio stabtti, as I suppose the 
 knot has not been tied already." 
 
 " Hold your mumping gibberish," said Belle, 
 
Ch. IV.] THE ROMANY RYE. 37 
 
 " and leave the dingle this moment, for though 
 } t is free to every one, you have no right to insult 
 me in it." 
 
 " Pray be pacified/' said I to Belle, getting up, 
 and placing myself between her and the man in 
 black, " he will presently leave, take my word 
 for it there, sit down again," said I, as I led 
 her to her seat ; then, resuming my own, I said 
 to the man in black : " I advise you to leave the 
 dingle as soon as possible/' 
 
 " I should wish to have your answer to my 
 proposal first/' said he. 
 
 '' Well, then, here you shall have it : I will 
 not entertain your proposal ; I detest your 
 schemes : they are both wicked and foolish." 
 
 " Wicked/' said the man in black, " have they 
 not he ! he ! the furtherance of religion in 
 view ?" 
 
 " A religion/' said I, " in which you yourself 
 do not believe, and which you contemn/' 
 
 " Whether I believe in it or not," said the 
 man in black, " it is adapted for the generality 
 of the human race ; so I will forward it, and 
 advise you to do the same. It was nearly ex- 
 tirpated in these regions, but it is springing up 
 again, owing to circumstances. Radicalism is a 
 good friend to us ; all the liberals laud up our 
 
38 THE KOMANY RYE. [Ch. IV. 
 
 system out of hatred to the Established Church, 
 though our system is ten times less liberal than 
 the Church of England. Some of them have 
 really come over to us. I myself confess a 
 baronet who presided over the first radical meet- 
 ing ever held in England he was an atheist 
 when he came over to us, in the hope of mor- 
 tifying his own church but he is now ho ! 
 ho! a real Catholic devotee quite afraid of 
 my threats ; I make him frequently scourge 
 himself before me. Well, Radicalism does us 
 good service, especially amongst the lower 
 classes, for Radicalism chiefly flourishes amongst 
 them; for though a baronet or two may be 
 found amongst the radicals, and perhaps as 
 many lords fellows who have been discarded 
 by their own order for clownishness, or some- 
 thing they have done it incontestably flou- 
 rishes best among the lower orders. Then 
 the love of what is foreign is a great friend 
 to us ; this love is chiefly confined to the middle 
 and upper classes. Some admire the French, and 
 imitate them ; others must needs be Spaniards, 
 dress themselves up in a zamarra, stick a cigar 
 in their mouths, and say, ' Carajo/ Others 
 would pass for Germans ; he ! he ! the idea of any 
 one wishing to pass for a German ! but what has 
 
Ch. IV.] THE ROMANY RYE. 39 
 
 done us more service than anything else in these 
 regions I mean amidst the middle classes has 
 been the novel, the Scotch novel. The good 
 folks, since they have read the novels, have be- 
 come Jacobites ; and, because all the Jacobs were 
 Papists, the good folks must become Papists also, 
 or, at least, papistically inclined. The very 
 Scotch Presbyterians, since they have read the 
 novels, are become all but Papists ; I speak ad- 
 visedly, having lately been amongst them. There 's 
 a trumpery bit of a half papist sect, called the 
 Scotch Episcopalian Church, which lay dormant 
 and nearly forgotten for upwards of a hundred 
 years, which has of late got wonderfully into 
 fashion in Scotland, because, forsooth, some of the 
 long-haired gentry of the novels were said to 
 belong to it, such as Montrose and Dundee ; and 
 to this the Presbyterians are going over in 
 throngs, traducing and vilifying their own fore- 
 fathers, or denying them altogether, and calling 
 themselves descendants of ho! ho! ho! Scot- 
 tish Cavaliers ! ! ! I have heard them myself 
 repeating snatches of Jacobite ditties about 
 'Bonnie Dundee/ and 
 
 " ' Come, fill up my cup, and fill up my can, 
 And saddle my horse, and call up my man.' 
 
 There 's stuff for you ! Not that I object to 
 
40 THE EOMANY RYE. i[Ch. IV. 
 
 the first part of the ditty. It is natural enough 
 that a Scotchman should cry, ' Come, fill up my 
 cup ! ' more especially if he 's drinking at another 
 person's expense all Scotchmen being fond of 
 liquor at free cost : but ' Saddle his horse ! ! ! ' 
 for what purpose I would ask? Where is 
 the use of saddling a horse, unless you can ride 
 him ? and where was there ever a Scotchman 
 who could ride?" 
 
 " Of course you have not a drop of Scotch 
 blood in your veins," said I, " otherwise you 
 would never have uttered that last sentence." 
 
 " Don't be too sure of that," said the man in 
 black ; " you know little of Popery if you imagine 
 that it cannot extinguish love of country, even 
 in a Scotchman. A thorough -going Papist and 
 who more thorough-going than myself cares 
 nothing for his country ; and why should he ? he 
 belongs to a system, and not to a country." 
 
 " One thing," said I, " connected with you, I 
 cannot understand ; you call yourself a thorough- 
 going Papist, yet are continually saying the most 
 pungent things against Popery, and turning to 
 unbounded ridicule those who show any inclina- 
 tion to embrace it." 
 
 " Rome is a very sensible old body," said the 
 man in black, " and little cares what her children 
 
Ch. IV.] THE ROMANY RYE. 41 
 
 say, provided they do her bidding. She knows 
 several things, and amongst others, that no ser- 
 vants work so hard and faithfully as those who 
 curse their masters at every stroke they do. 
 She was not fool enough to be angry with the 
 Miquelets of Alba, who renounced her, and 
 called her 'puta' all the time they were cutting 
 the throats of the Netherlanders. Now, if she 
 allowed her faithful soldiers the latitude of re- 
 nouncing her, and calling her ' puta ' in the 
 market-place, think not she is so unreasonable as 
 to object to her faithful priests occasionally call- 
 ing her ' puta' in the dingle/' 
 
 " But," said I, " suppose some one were to tell 
 the world some of the disorderly things which 
 her priests say in the dingle?" 
 
 " He would have the fate of Cassandra," said 
 the man in black ; " no one would believe him 
 yes, the priests would : but they would make no 
 sign of belief. They believe in the Alcoran des 
 Cordeliers that is, those who have read it ; but 
 they make no sign." 
 
 " A pretty system," said I, " which extin- 
 guishes love of country and of everything 
 noble, and brings the minds of its ministers to 
 a parity with those of devils, who delight in 
 nothing but mischief/' 
 
42 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. IV. 
 
 " The system," said the man in black, " is a 
 grand one, with unbounded vitality. Compare 
 it with your Protestantism, and you will see the 
 difference. Popery is ever at work, whilst Pro- 
 testantism is supine. A pretty church, indeed, 
 the Protestant ! Why it can't even work a 
 miracle." 
 
 " Can your church work miracles ?" I de- 
 manded. 
 
 "That was the very question/' said the man 
 in black, " which the ancient British clergy 
 asked of Austin Monk, after they had been fools 
 enough to acknowledge their own inability. 
 ' We don't pretend to work miracles ; do you ? ' 
 * Oh ! dear me, yes/ said Austin ; ( we find no diffi- 
 culty in the matter. We can raise the dead, we 
 can make the blind see ; and to convince you, I 
 will give sight to the blind. Here is this blind 
 Saxon, whom you cannot cure, but on whose 
 eyes I will manifest my power, in order to show 
 the difference between the true and the false 
 church ;' and forthwith, with the assistance of a 
 handkerchief and a little hot water, he opened 
 the eyes of the barbarian. So we manage mat- 
 ters ! A pretty church, that old British church, 
 which could not work miracles quite as help- 
 less as the modern one. The fools ! was birdlime 
 
Ch. IV.] THE ROMANY RYE. 43 
 
 so scarce a thing amongst them ? and were the 
 properties of warm water so unknown to them, 
 that they could not close a pair of eyes and open 
 them?" 
 
 " It 's a pity/' said I, u that the British clergy 
 at that interview with Austin, did not bring for- 
 ward a blind Welshman, and ask the monk to 
 operate upon him." 
 
 " Clearly/' said the man in black ; " that 's 
 what they ought to have done ; but they were 
 fools without a single resource/" Here he took 
 a sip at his glass. 
 
 "But they did not believe in the miracle?" 
 said I. 
 
 "And what did their not believing avail 
 them ?" said the man in black. " Austin re- 
 mained master of the field, and they went away 
 holding their heads down, and muttering to 
 themselves. What a fine subject for a painting 
 would be Austin's opening the eyes of the Saxon 
 barbarian, and the discomfiture of the British 
 clergy ! I wonder it has not been painted ! 
 he! he!" 
 
 " I suppose your church still performs mi- 
 racles occasionally ? " said I. 
 
 "It does," said the man in black. "The 
 Rev has lately been performing miracles 
 
44 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. IV. 
 
 in Ireland, destroying devils that had got pos- 
 session of people ; he has been eminently suc- 
 cessful. In two instances he not only destroyed 
 the devils, but the lives of the people possessed 
 he ! he ! Oh ! there is so much energy in our 
 system ; we are always at work, whilst Pro- 
 testantism is supine." 
 
 "You must not imagine/' said I, "that all 
 Protestants are supine ; some of them appear to 
 be filled with unbounded zeal. They deal, it is 
 true, not in lying miracles, but they propagate 
 God's Word. I remember only a few months 
 ago, having occasion for a Bible, going to an 
 establishment, the object of which was to send 
 Bibles all over the world. The supporters of 
 that establishment could have no self-interested 
 views ; for I was supplied by them with a noble- 
 sized Bible at a price so small as to preclude 
 the idea that it could bring any profit to the 
 vendors." 
 
 The countenance of the man in black slightly 
 fell. " I know the people to whom you allude," 
 said he ; " indeed, unknown to them, I have fre- 
 quently been to see them, and observed their 
 ways. I tell you frankly that there is not a 
 set of people in this kingdom who have caused 
 our church so much trouble and uneasiness. I 
 
Ch. IT.] THE ROMANY EYE. 4 5 
 
 should rather say that they alone cause us any ; 
 for as for the rest, what with their drowsiness, 
 their plethora, their folly, and their vanity, they 
 are doing us anything but mischief. These fel- 
 lows are a pestilent set of heretics, whom we 
 would gladly see burnt ; they are, with the most 
 untiring perseverance, and in spite of divers 
 minatory declarations of the holy father, scatter- 
 ing their books abroad through all Europe, and 
 have caused many people in Catholic countries to 
 think that hitherto their priesthood have endea- 
 voured, as much as possible, to keep them blinded. 
 There is one fellow amongst them for whom we 
 entertain a particular aversion ; a big, burly par- 
 son, with the face of a lion, the voice of a buffalo, 
 and a fist like a sledge-hammer. The last time I 
 was there, I observed that his eye was upon me, 
 and I did not like the glance he gave me at all ; 
 I observed him clench his fist, and I took my 
 departure as fast as I conveniently could. Whe- 
 ther he suspected who I was, I know not ; but 
 I did not like his look at all, and do not intend 
 to go again." 
 
 " Well, then/' said I, " you confess that you 
 have redoubtable enemies to your plans in these 
 regions, and that even amongst the ecclesiastics 
 
46 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. IV. 
 
 there are some widely different from those of the 
 plethoric and Platitude schools/' 
 
 " It is but too true/' said the man in black ; 
 "and if the rest of your church were like 
 them we should quickly bid adieu to all hope of 
 converting these regions, but we are thankful to 
 be able to say that such folks are not numerous ; 
 there are, moreover, causes at work quite suffi- 
 cient to undermine even their zeal. Their sons 
 return at the vacations, from Oxford and Cam- 
 bridge, puppies, full of the nonsense which they 
 have imbibed from Platitude professors ; and 
 this nonsense they retail at home, where it fails 
 not to make some impression, whilst the daugh- 
 ters scream I beg their pardons warble about 
 Scotland's Montrose, and Bonny Dundee, and all 
 the Jacobs ; so we have no doubt that their papas' 
 zeal about the propagation of such a vulgar book 
 as the Bible will in a very little time be terribly 
 diminished. Old Rome will win, so you had 
 better join her/' 
 
 And the man in black drained the last drop 
 in his glass. 
 
 "Never," said I, "will I become the slave of 
 Home." 
 
 " She will allow you latitude," said the man 
 
Ch. IV.] THE EOMANY RYE. 47 
 
 in black ; " do but serve her, and she will allow 
 you to call her ' puta ' at a decent time and 
 place, her popes occasionally call her 'puta/ A 
 pope has been known to start from his bed at 
 midnight and rush out into the corridor, and call 
 out ' puta ' three times in a voice which pierced 
 the Vatican ; that pope was . . . ." 
 
 " Alexander the Sixth, I dare say," said I ; 
 "the greatest monster that ever existed, though 
 the worthiest head which the popish system ever 
 had so his conscience was not always still. 
 I thought it had been seared with a brand of 
 iron." 
 
 " I did not allude to him, but to a much more 
 modern pope," said the man in black ; " it is 
 true he brought the word, which is Spanish, from 
 Spain, his native country, to Rome. He was 
 very fond of calling the church by that name, 
 and other popes have taken it up. She will 
 allow you to call her by it if you belong to 
 her." 
 
 " I shall call her so," said I, " without belong- 
 ing to her, or asking her permission." 
 
 " She will allow you to treat her as such if 
 you belong to her," said the man in black ; 
 "there is a chapel in Rome, where there is a 
 wondrously fair statue the son of a cardinal 
 
48 THE KOMANY RYE. [Ch. IV. 
 
 I mean his nephew once .... Well, she did 
 not cut off his head, but slightly boxed his cheek 
 and bade him go." 
 
 " I have read all about that in ' Keysler's Tra- 
 vels/" said I ; " do you tell her that I would not 
 touch her with a pair of tongs, unless to seize 
 her nose." 
 
 " She is fond of lucre," said the man in black ; 
 " but does not grudge a faithful priest a little 
 private perquisite," and he took out a very hand- 
 some gold repeater. 
 
 " Are you not afraid," said I, " to flash that 
 watch before the eyes of a poor tinker in a 
 dingle 1" 
 
 " Not before the eyes of one like you," said 
 the man in black. 
 
 " It is getting late," said I ; " I care not for 
 perquisites." 
 
 " So you will not join us ? " said the man in 
 black. 
 
 " You have had my answer," said I. 
 
 " If L belong to Rome," said the man in 
 black, " why should not you ?" 
 
 " I may be a poor tinker," said I ; " but I 
 may never have undergone what you have. You 
 remember, perhaps, the fable of the fox who had 
 lost his tail?" 
 
Ch. IV. THE ROMANY RYE. 49 
 
 The man in black winced, but almost imme- 
 diately recovering himself, he said, "Well, we 
 can do without you, we are sure of winning." 
 
 " It is not the part of wise people/' said I, 
 " to make sure of the battle before it is fought : 
 there's the landlord of the public-house, who 
 made sure that his cocks would win, yet the 
 cocks lost the main, and the landlord is little 
 better than a bankrupt." 
 
 "People very different from the landlord/' 
 said the man in black, "both in intellect and 
 station, think we shall surely win ; there are 
 clever machinators among us who have no doubt 
 of our success/' 
 
 " Well," said I, " I will set the landlord aside, 
 and will adduce one who was in every point a 
 very different person from the landlord, both in 
 understanding and station, he was very fond of 
 laying schemes, and, indeed, many of them 
 turned out successful. His last and darling one, 
 however, miscarried, notwithstanding that by 
 his calculations he had persuaded himself that 
 there was no possibility of its failing the person 
 that I allude to was old Fraser . . . ." 
 
 " Who ?" said the man in black, giving a start, 
 and letting his glass fall. 
 
 " Old Fraser, of Lovat," said I, " the prince of 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
50 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. IV. 
 
 all conspirators and machinators ; he made sure 
 of placing the Pretender on the throne of these 
 realms. ' I can bring into the field so many 
 men/ said he ; ' my son-in-law, Cluny, so many, 
 and likewise my cousin, and my good friend ;' 
 then speaking of those on whom the government 
 reckoned for support, he would say, ' So and so 
 are lukewarm, this person is ruled by his wife, 
 who is with us, the clergy are anything but 
 hostile to us, and as for the soldiers and sailors, 
 half are disaffected to King George, and the 
 rest cowards/ Yet, when things came to a trial, 
 this person whom he had calculated upon to join 
 the Pretender did not stir from his home, another 
 joined the hostile ranks, the presumed cowards 
 turned out heroes, and those whom he thought 
 heroes ran away like lusty fellows at Culloden ; 
 in a word, he found himself utterly mistaken, 
 and in nothing more than himself; he thought 
 he was a hero, and proved himself nothing more 
 than an old fox ; he got up a hollow tree, didn't 
 he, just like a fox ? 
 
 " ' L' opere sue non furon leonine, ma di volpe.' " 
 The man in black sat silent for a considerable 
 time, and at length answered, in rather a falter- 
 ing voice, " I was not prepared for this ; you 
 have frequently surprised me by your knowledge 
 
Ch. IT.] THE ROMANY RYE. 5 1 
 
 of things which I should never have expected 
 any person of your appearance to be acquainted 
 with, but that you should be aware of my name 
 is a circumstance utterly incomprehensible to 
 me. I had imagined that no person in England 
 was acquainted with it ; indeed, I don't see how 
 any person should be, I have revealed it to no 
 one, not being particularly proud of it. Yes, I 
 acknowledge that my name is Eraser, and that 
 I am of the blood of that family or clan, of 
 which the rector of our college once said, that he 
 was firmly of opinion that every individual 
 member was either rogue or fool. I was born 
 at Madrid, of pure, oimd, Eraser blood. My 
 
 parents at an early age, took me to where 
 
 they shortly died, not, however, before they had 
 placed me in the service of a cardinal, with 
 whom I continued some years, and who, when 
 he had no further occasion for me, sent me to 
 the college, in the left-hand cloister of which, as 
 you enter, rest the bones of Sir John D . . . . ; 
 there, in studying logic and humane letters, I 
 lost whatever of humanity I had retained when 
 discarded by the cardinal. Let me not, how- 
 ever, forget two points, I am a Eraser, it is true, 
 but not a Flannagan ; I may bear the vilest 
 name of Britain, but not of Ireland ; I was bred 
 
 D 2 
 
52 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. IT 
 
 up at the English house, and there is at 
 
 a house for the education of bog-trotters ; I was 
 not bred up at that ; beneath the lowest gulf, 
 there is one yet lower ; whatever my blood may 
 be, it is at least not Irish ; whatever my educa- 
 tion may have been, I was not bred at the 
 Irish seminary on those accounts I am thank- 
 ful yes, per dio ! I am thankful. After some 
 years at college but why should I tell you my 
 history, you know it already perfectly well, pro- 
 bably much better than myself. I am now a 
 missionary priest labouring in heretic England, 
 like Parsons and Garnet of old, save and except 
 that, unlike them, I run no danger, for the times 
 are changed. As I told you before, I shall 
 cleave to Rome I must ; no hay remedio, as 
 they say at Madrid, and I will do my best to 
 further her holy plans he ! he ! but I confess I 
 begin to doubt of their being successful here 
 you put me out ; old Fraser, of Lovat ! I have 
 heard my father talk of him ; he had a gold- 
 headed cane, with which he once knocked my 
 grandfather down he was an astute one, but, 
 as you say, mistaken, particularly in himself. I 
 have read his life by Arbuthnot, it is in the 
 library of our college. Farewell ! I shall come 
 no more to this dingle to come would be of no 
 
Ch. IV.] THE EOMANY RYE. 5 3 
 
 utility ; I shall go and labour elsewhere, though 
 .... how you came to know my name, is a 
 fact quite inexplicable farewell ! to you both." 
 
 He then arose ; and without further salutation 
 departed from the dingle, in which I never saw 
 him again. "-How, in the name of wonder, 
 came you to know that man's name ?" said Belle, 
 after he had been gone some time. 
 
 " I, Belle ? I knew nothing of the fellow's 
 name, I assure you." 
 - " But you mentioned his name." 
 
 " If I did, it was merely casually, by way of 
 illustration. I was saying how frequently 
 cunning people were mistaken in their calcula- 
 tions, and I adduced the case of old Fraser, of 
 Lovat, as one in point ; I brought forward his 
 name, because I was well acquainted with his 
 history, from having compiled and inserted it in 
 a wonderful work, which I edited some months 
 ago, entitled 'Newgate Lives and Trials/ but 
 without the slightest idea that it was the name 
 of him who was sitting with us ; he, however, 
 thought that I was aware of his name. Belle ! 
 Belle ! for a long time I doubted in the truth of 
 Scripture, owing to certain conceited discourses 
 which I had heard from certain conceited indivi- 
 duals, but now I begin to believe firmly ; what 
 
54 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. IV. 
 
 wonderful texts there are in Scripture, Belle ! 
 ' The wicked trembleth where where . . . /" 
 
 " ' They were afraid where no fear was ; thou 
 hast put them to confusion, because God hath 
 despised them/ " said Belle ; " I have frequently 
 read it before the clergyman in the great 
 house of Long Melford. Bu6 if you did not 
 know the man's name, why let him go away 
 supposing that you did V 
 
 " Oh, if he was fool enough to make such a 
 mistake, I was not going to undeceive him 
 no, no ! Let the enemies of old England make 
 the most of all their blunders and mistakes, 
 they will have no help from me; but enough of 
 the fellow, Belle, let us now have tea, and after 
 that . . . ." 
 
 " No Armenian/' said Belle ; " but I want to 
 ask a question: pray are all people of that 
 man's name either rogues or fools?" 
 
 " It is impossible for me to say, Belle, this 
 person being the only one of the name I have 
 ever personally known. I suppose there are 
 good and bad, clever and foolish, amongst them, 
 as amongst all large bodies of people; however, 
 after the trib ehad been governed for upwards of 
 thirty years by such a person as old Eraser, it 
 were no wonder if the greater part had become 
 
Ch. IV.] THE EOMANY RYE. 55 
 
 either rogues or fools : he was a ruthless tyrant, 
 Belle, over his own people, and by his cruelty 
 and rapaciousness must either have stunned 
 them into an apathy approaching to idiocy, or 
 made them artful knaves in their own defence. 
 The qualities of parents are generally trans- 
 mitted to their descendants the progeny of 
 trained pointers are almost sure to point, even 
 without being taught : if, therefore, all Frasers 
 are either rogues or fools, as this person seems 
 to insinuate, it is little to be wondered at, their 
 parents or grandparents having been in the 
 training-school of old Fraser! but enough of the 
 old tyrant and his slaves. Belle, prepare tea 
 this moment, or dread my anger. I have not a 
 gold-headed cane like old Fraser of Lovat, but I 
 have, what some people would dread much more, 
 an Armenian rune-stick/' 
 
CHAPTER Y. 
 
 FRESH ARRIVALS. PITCHING THE TENT. CERTIFICATED WIFE. 
 
 HIGH-FLYING NOTIONS. 
 
 ON the following morning, as I was about to 
 ]eave my tent, I heard the voice of Belle at the 
 door, exclaiming " Sleepest thou, or wakest 
 thou V 3 "I was never more awake in my life/' 
 said I, going out. "What is the matter?" 
 " He of the horse-shoe/' said she, " Jasper, of 
 whom I have heard you talk, is above there on 
 the field with all his people ; I went about a 
 quarter of an hour ago to fill the kettle at the 
 spring, and saw them arriving." " It is well/' 
 said I ; " have you any objection to asking him 
 and his wife to breakfast?" "You can do as 
 you please/' said she; "I have cups enough, 
 and have no objection to their company/' 
 " We are the first occupiers of the ground," said 
 I, " and, being so, should consider ourselves in 
 the light of hosts, and do our best to practise 
 
Ch. V.] THE KOMANY RYE. 5 7 
 
 the duties of hospitality." " How fond you are 
 of using that word/' said Belle, " if you wish to 
 invite the man and his wife, do so, without more 
 ado ; remember, however, that I have not cups 
 enough, nor indeed tea enough, for the whole 
 company.'" Thereupon hurrying up the ascent, 
 I presently found myself outside the dingle. It 
 was as usuala brilliant morning, the dewy blades 
 of the rye-grass which covered the plain sparkled 
 brightly in the beams of the sun, which had 
 probably been about two hours above the 
 horizon. A rather numerous body of my an- 
 cient friends and allies occupied the ground in 
 the vicinity of the mouth of the dingle. About 
 five yards on the right I perceived Mr. Petu- 
 lengro busily employed in erecting his tent; he 
 held in his hand an iron bar, sharp at the bot- 
 tom, with a kind of arm projecting from the 
 top for the purpose of supporting a kettle or 
 cauldron over the fire, and which is called in the 
 Romanian language " Kekauviskoe saster." With 
 the sharp end of this Mr. Petulengro was making 
 holes in the earth at about twenty inches' dis- 
 tance from each other, into which he inserted 
 certain long rods with a considerable bend 
 towards the top, which constituted no less than 
 the timbers of the tent, and the supporters of 
 
 D 3 
 
58 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. V. 
 
 the canvas. Mrs. Petulengro, and a female 
 with a crutch in her hand, whom I recognised 
 as Mrs. Chikno, sat near him on the ground, 
 whilst two or three children, from six to ten 
 years old, who composed the young family of 
 Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro, were playing about. 
 
 " Here we are, brother/'' said Mr. Petulengro, 
 as he drove the sharp end of the bar into the 
 ground ; " here we are, and plenty of us Bute 
 dosta Komany chals." 
 
 " I am glad to see you all," said I ; " and 
 particularly you, madam/' said I, making a bow 
 to Mrs. Petulengro; " and you also, madam/' 
 taking off my hat to Mrs. Chikno. 
 
 " Good day to you, sir/' said Mrs. Petulengro ; 
 <( you look as usual, charmingly, and speak so, 
 too ; you have not forgot your manners." 
 
 " It is not all gold that glitters/' said Mrs. 
 Chikno. " However, good-morrow to you, young 
 rye." 
 
 " I do not see Tawno," said I, looking around ; 
 " where is he ?" 
 
 "Where, indeed!" said Mrs. Chikno; "I 
 don't know ; he who countenances him in the 
 roving line can best answer." 
 
 " He will be here anon," said Mr. Petulengro; 
 " he has merely ridden down a by-road to show 
 
Ch. V.] THE EOMANY RYE. 5 9 
 
 a farmer a two-year-old colt ; she heard me give 
 him directions, but she can't be satisfied/' 
 
 " I can't, indeed/' said Mrs. Chikno. 
 
 " And why not, sister?" 
 
 " Because I place no confidence in your words, 
 brother ; as I said before, you countenances him." 
 
 " Well/' said I, " I know nothing of your 
 private concerns ; I am come on an errand. 
 Isopel Berners, down in the dell there, requests 
 the pleasure of Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro's com- 
 pany at breakfast. She will be happy also to 
 see you, madam," said I, addressing Mrs. 
 Chikno. 
 
 " Is that young female your wife, young 
 man ? " said Mrs. Chikno. 
 
 "My wife?" said I. 
 
 " Yes, young man, your wife, your lawful 
 certificated wife." 
 
 " No," said I, " she is not my wife." 
 
 " Then I will not visit with her," said Mrs. 
 Chikno ; " I countenance nothing in the roving 
 line." 
 
 " What do you mean by the roving line ?" I 
 demanded. 
 
 " What do I mean by the roving line ? Why, 
 by it I mean such conduct as is not tatcheno. 
 When ryes and rawnies lives together in dingles, 
 
60 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. V. 
 
 without being certificated, I calls such behaviour 
 being tolerably deep in the roving line, every- 
 thing savouring of which I am determined not 
 to sanctify. I have suffered too much by my 
 own certificated husband's outbreaks in that line 
 to afford anything of the kind the slightest 
 shadow of countenance/' 
 
 " It is hard that people may not live in 
 dingles together without being suspected of 
 doing wrong/' said I. 
 
 " So it is," said Mrs. Petulengro, interposing ; 
 " and, to tell you the truth, I am altogether sur- 
 prised at the illiberality of my sister's remarks. 
 I have often heard say, that is in good company 
 and I have kept good company in my time 
 that suspicion is king's evidence of a narrow and 
 uncultivated mind ; on which account I am sus- 
 picious of nobody, not even of my own husband, 
 whom some people would think I have a right to 
 be suspicious of, seeing that on his account I once 
 refused a lord ; but ask him whether I am suspi- 
 cious of him, and whether I seeks to keep him close 
 tied to my apron-string ; he will tell you nothing 
 of the kind ; but that, on the contrary, I always 
 allows him an agreeable latitude, permitting him 
 to go where he pleases, and to converse with any 
 one to whose manner of speaking he may take a 
 
Ch. V.] THE ROMANY RYE. 6 1 
 
 fancy. But I have had the advantage of keeping- 
 good company, and therefore . . . . " 
 
 " Meklis," said Mrs. Chikno, " pray drop all 
 that, sister ; I believe I have kept as good com- 
 pany as yourself; and with respect to that offer 
 with which you frequently fatigue those who 
 keeps company with you, I believe, after all, it 
 was something in the roving and uncertificated 
 line." 
 
 " In whatever line it was," said Mrs. Petu- 
 lengro, " the offer was a good one. The young 
 duke for he was not only a lord, but a duke 
 too offered to keep me a fine carriage, and to 
 make me his second wife ; for it is true that he 
 had another who was old and stout, though 
 mighty rich, and highly good natured ; so much 
 so, indeed, that the young lord assured me that 
 she would have no manner of objection to the 
 arrangement ; more especially if I would consent 
 to live in the same house with her, being fond of 
 young and cheerful society. So you see ..." 
 
 " Yes, yes/' said Mrs. Chikno, " I see, what I 
 before thought, that it was altogether in the 
 uncertificated line." 
 
 " Meklis," said Mrs. Petulengro, " I use your 
 own word, madam, which is Romany ; for my 
 own part, I am not fond of using Romany 
 
62 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. Y. 
 
 words, unless I can hope to pass them off for 
 French, which I cannot in the present company. 
 I heartily wish that there was no such language, 
 and do my best to keep it away from my 
 children, lest the frequent use of it should alto- 
 gether confirm them in low and vulgar habits. 
 I have four children, madam, but .... 
 
 " I suppose by talking of your four children 
 you wish to check me for having none/' said 
 Mrs. Chikno, bursting into tears ; " if I have 
 no children, sister, it is no fault of mine, it is 
 but why do I call you sister," said she, angrily, 
 " you are no sister of mine, you are a grasni, a 
 regular mare a pretty sister, indeed, ashamed of 
 your own language. I remember well that by 
 your high-flying notions you drove your own 
 mother ...../' 
 
 " We will drop it," said Mrs. Petulengro ; 
 " I do not wish to raise my voice, and to make 
 myself ridiculous. Young gentleman," said she, 
 " pray present my compliments to Miss Isopel 
 Berners, and inform her that I am very sorry 
 that I cannot accept her polite invitation. I am 
 just arrived, and have some slight domestic 
 matters to see to, amongst others, to wash my 
 children's faces ; but that in the course of the 
 forenoon, when I have attended to what I have 
 
Ch. V.] THE EOMANY RYE. 63 
 
 to do, and have dressed myself, I hope to do my- 
 self the honour of paying her a regular visit, 
 you will tell her that with my compliments. 
 With respect to my husband he can answer for 
 himself, as I, not being of a jealous disposition, 
 never interferes with his matters." 
 
 " And tell Miss Berners," said Mr. Petulengro, 
 " that I shall be happy to wait upon her in com- 
 pany with my wife as soon as we are regularly 
 settled : at present I have much on my hands, 
 having not only to pitch my own tent, but this 
 here jealous woman's, whose husband is absent 
 on my business/' 
 
 Thereupon I returned to the dingle, and with- 
 out saying anything about Mrs. Chikno's obser- 
 vations, communicated to Isopel the messages of 
 Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro ; Isopel made no other 
 reply than by replacing in her coffer two addi- 
 tional cups and saucers, which, in expectation of 
 company, she had placed upon the board. The 
 kettle was by this time boiling. We sat down, 
 and as we breakfasted, I gave Isopel Berners 
 another lesson in the Armenian language. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE PROMISED VISIT. ROMAN FASHION. WIZARD AND WITCH. 
 
 CATCHING AT WORDS. THE TWO FEMALES. DRESSING OF HAIR. 
 
 THE NEW ROADS. BELLE'S ALTERED APPEARANCE.- HERSELF AGAIN. 
 
 ABOUT mid-day Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro came 
 to the dingle to pay the promised visit. Belle, 
 at the time of their arrival, was in her tent, but 
 I was at the fire-place, engaged in hammering 
 part of the outer-tire, or defence, which had 
 come off from one of the wheels of my vehicle. 
 On perceiving them I forthwith went to receive 
 them. Mr. Petulengro was dressed in Roman 
 fashion, with a somewhat smartly-cut sporting- 
 coat, the buttons of which were half-crowns 
 and a waistcoat, scarlet and black, the buttons of 
 which were spaded half-guineas ; his breeches 
 were of a stuff half velveteen, half corduroy, the 
 cords exceedingly broad. He had leggings of 
 buff cloth, furred at the bottom ; and upon his 
 feet were highlows. Under his left arm was a 
 long black whalebone riding-whip, with a red 
 
Ch. VI.] THE ROMANY RYE. 65 
 
 lash, and an immense silver knob. Upon his 
 head was a hat with a high peak, somewhat of 
 the kind which the Spaniards call calane, so 
 much in favour with the bravos of Seville and 
 Madrid. Now when I have added that Mr. 
 Petulengro had on a very fine white holland 
 shirt, I think I have described his array. Mrs. 
 Petulengro I beg pardon for not having spoken 
 of her first was also arrayed very much in the 
 Roman fashion. Her hair, which was exceed- 
 ingly black and lustrous, fell in braids on either 
 side of her head. In her ears were rings, with 
 long drops of gold. Round her neck was a 
 string of what seemed very much like very large 
 pearls, somewhat tarnished, however, and appa- 
 rently of considerable antiquity. " Here we are, 
 brother/' said Mr. Petulengro, " here we are, 
 come to see you wizard and witch, witch and 
 wizard : 
 
 " ' There 's a chovahanee, and a chovahano, 
 The nav se len is Petulengro.' " 
 
 " Hold your tongue, sir/' said Mrs. Petu- 
 lengro ; " you make me ashamed of you with 
 your vulgar ditties. We are come a visiting 
 now 3 and everything low should be left behind." 
 
 " True/' said Mr. Petulengro ; u why bring 
 
6 6 THE ROMANY BYE. [Ch. VI. 
 
 what 's low to the dingle, which is low enough 
 already?" 
 
 " What, are you a catcher at words 1" said I. 
 " I thought that catching at words had been 
 confined to the pothouse farmers, and village 
 witty bodies." 
 
 " All fools/' said Mrs. Petulengro, " catch at 
 words, and very naturally, as by so doing they 
 hope to prevent the possibility of rational con- 
 versation. Catching at words confined to pot- 
 house farmers and village witty bodies ! No, 
 nor to Jasper Petulengro. Listen for an hour or 
 two to the discourse of a set they call newspaper 
 editors, and if you don't go out and eat grass, as 
 a dog does when he is sick, I am no female wo- 
 man. The young lord whose hand I refused when 
 I took up with wise Jasper, once brought two of 
 them to my mother's tan, when hankering after 
 my company ; they did nothing but carp at each 
 other's words, and a pretty hand they made of 
 it. Ill-favoured dogs they were ; and their at- 
 tempts at what they called wit almost as unfor- 
 tunate as their countenances." 
 
 " Well," said I, " madam, we will drop all 
 catchings and carpings for the present. l?ray 
 take your seat on this stoolj whilst I go and 
 announce to Miss Isopel Berners your arrival." 
 
Ch. VI.] THE EOMANY RYE. 67 
 
 Thereupon I went to Belle's habitation, and 
 informed her that Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro had 
 paid us a visit of ceremony, and were awaiting 
 her at the fire-place. " Pray go and tell them 
 that I am busy/' said Belle, who was engaged 
 with her needle. " I do not feel disposed to 
 take part in any such nonsense/' " I shall 
 do no such thing," said I, " and I insist upon 
 your coming forthwith, and showing proper 
 courtesy to your visitors. If you do not their 
 feelings will be hurt, and you are aware that I 
 cannot bear that people's feelings should be out- 
 raged. Come this moment, or" . . . ."Or what?" 
 said Belle, half smiling. " I was about to say 
 something in Armenian," said I. " Well," said 
 Belle, laying down her work, " I will come." 
 " Stay," said I, " your hair is hanging about 
 your ears, and your dress is in disorder ; you 
 had better stay a minute or two to prepare 
 yourself to appear before your visitors, who have 
 come in their very best attire." " No," said 
 Belle, " I will make no alteration in my appear- 
 ance ; you told me to come this moment, and 
 you shall be obeyed." 
 
 So Belle and I advanced towards our guests. 
 As we drew nigh Mr. Petulengro took off his 
 hat, and made a profound obeisance to Belle, 
 
68 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. VI. 
 
 whilst Mrs. Petulengo rose from the stool, and 
 made a profound curtsey. Belle, who had flung 
 her hair back over her shoulders, returned their 
 salutations by bending her head, and ^after 
 slightly glancing at Mr. Petulengro, fixed her 
 large blue eyes full upon his wife. Both these 
 females were very handsome but how unlike ! 
 Belle fair, with blue eyes and flaxen hair ; Mrs. 
 Petulengro with olive complexion, eyes black, 
 and hair dark as dark could be. Belle, in 
 demeanour calm and proud ; the gypsy graceful, 
 but full of movement and agitation. And then 
 how different were those two in stature ! The 
 head of the Romany rawnie scarcely ascended 
 to the breast of Isopel Berners. I could see that 
 Mrs. Petulengro gazed on Belle with unmixed ad- 
 miration : so did her husband. " Well/' said 
 the latter, " one thing I will say, which is, that 
 there is only one on earth worthy to stand up in 
 front of this she, and that is the beauty of the 
 world, as far as man flesh is concerned, Tawno 
 Ghikno ; what a pity he did not come down ! " 
 
 "Tawno Chikno," said Mrs. Petulengro, 
 flaring up ; "a pretty fellow he to stand up 
 in front of this gentlewoman, a pity he didn't 
 come, quotha ? not at all, the fellow is a sneak, 
 afraid of his wife. He stand up against this 
 
Ch. YL] THE EOMANY EYE. 69 
 
 rawnie ! why the look she has given me would 
 knock the fellow down/' 
 
 " It is easier to knock him down with a 
 look than with a fist/' said Mr. Petulengro ; 
 " that is, if the look comes from a woman : 
 not that I am disposed to doubt that this female 
 gentlewoman is able to knock him down either 
 one way or the other. I have heard of her 
 often enough, and have seen her once or twice, 
 though not so near as now. Well, ma'am, my 
 wife and I are come to pay our respects to you ; 
 we are both glad to find that you have left off 
 keeping company with Flaming Bosville, and 
 have taken up with my pal ; he is not very 
 handsome, but a better . . . ." 
 
 " I take up with your pal, as you call him ; 
 you had better mind what you say/' said Isopel 
 Berners, " I take up with nobody." 
 
 " I merely mean taking up your quarters with 
 him," said Mr. Petulengro ; " and I was only 
 about to say a better fellow-lodger you cannot 
 have, or a more instructive, especially if you 
 have a desire to be inoculated with tongues, 
 as he calls them. I wonder whether you and 
 he have had any tongue-work already." 
 
 " Have you and your wife anything par- 
 ticular to say, if you have nothing but this kind 
 
70 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. VI. 
 
 of conversation I must leave you, as I am going 
 to make a journey this afternoon, and should be 
 getting ready/' 
 
 " You must excuse my husband, madam/' 
 said Mrs. Petulengro, " he is not overburdened 
 with understanding, and has said but one word 
 of sense since he has been here, which was that 
 we came to pay our respects to you. We have 
 dressed ourselves in our best Roman way, in 
 order to do honour to you ; perhaps you do 
 not like it ; if so, I am sorry. I have no French 
 clothes, madam, if I had any, madam, I would 
 have come in them in order to do you more 
 honour." 
 
 " I like to see you much better as you are," 
 said Belle ; " people should keep to their own 
 fashions, and yours is very pretty/' 
 
 "I am glad you are pleased to think it so, 
 madam ; it has been admired in the great city, 
 it created what they call a sensation, and some 
 of the great ladies, the court ladies, imitated 
 it, else I should not appear in it so often as I 
 am accustomed ; for I am not very fond of what 
 is Roman, having an imagination that what 
 is Roman is ungenteel ; in fact, I once heard 
 the wife of a rich citizen say that gypsies were 
 vulgar creatures. I should have taken her 
 
Uh. VI.] THE ROMANY RYE. 7l 
 
 saying very much to heart, but for her improper 
 pronunciation ; she could not pronounce her 
 words, madam, which we gypsies, as they call 
 us, usually can, so I thought she was no very 
 high purchase. You are very beautiful, madam, 
 though you are not dressed as I could wish to 
 see you, and your hair is hanging down in sad 
 confusion ; allow me to assist you in arranging 
 your hair, madam ; I will dress it for you in 
 our fashion ; I would fain see how your hair 
 would look in our poor gypsy fashion ; pray allow 
 me, madam?" and she took Belle by the hand. 
 
 "I really can do no such thing," said Belle, 
 withdrawing her hand ; " I thank you for coming 
 to see me, but . . . /' 
 
 " Bo allow me to officiate upon your hair, 
 madam/' said Mrs. Petulengro, " I should esteem 
 your allowing me a great mark of condescen- 
 sion. You are very beautiful, madam, and I 
 think you doubly so, because you are so fair ; 
 I have a great esteem for persons with fair 
 complexions and hair ; I have a less regard for 
 people with dark hair and complexions, madam/' 
 
 "Then why did you turn off the lord, and 
 take up with me?" said Mr. Petulengro; "that 
 same lord was fair enough all about him." 
 
 " People do when they are young and silly 
 
72 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. VI. 
 
 what they sometimes repent of when they are 
 of riper years and understandings. I some- 
 times think that had I not been something of a 
 simpleton, I might at this time be a great court 
 lady. Now, madam," said she, again taking 
 Belle by the hand, " do oblige me by allowing 
 me to plait your hair a little?" 
 
 " I have really a good mind to be angry 
 with you/' said Belle, giving Mrs. Petulengro 
 a peculiar glance. 
 
 " Do allow her to arrange your hair/' said I, 
 " she means no harm, and wishes to do you 
 honour ; do oblige her and me too, for I should 
 like to see how your hair would look dressed 
 in her fashion/' 
 
 " You hear what the young rye says ? " said 
 Mrs. Petulengro. " I am sure you will oblige 
 the young rye, if not myself. Many people 
 would be willing to oblige the young rye, if he 
 would but ask them ; but he is not in the habit 
 of asking favours. He has a nose of his own, 
 which he keeps tolerably exalted ; he does not 
 think small-beer of himself, madam ; and all the 
 time I have been with him, I never heard him 
 ask a favour before ; therefore, madam, I am sure 
 you will oblige him. My sister Ursula would be 
 very willing to oblige him in many things, but he 
 
Ch. VI.] THE ROMANY RYE. 73 
 
 will not ask her for anything, except for such a 
 favour as a word, which is a poor favour after 
 all. I don't mean for her word ; perhaps he 
 will some day ask you for your word. If so ... ." 
 
 "Why here you are, after railing at me for 
 catching at words, catching at a word yourself/' 
 said Mr. Petulengro. 
 
 " Hold your tongue, sir/' said Mrs. Petu- 
 lengro. " Don't interrupt me in my discourse ; if 
 I caught at a word now, I am not in the habit 
 of doing so. I am no conceited body ; no news- 
 paper Neddy; no pothouse witty person. I 
 was about to say, madam, that if the young 
 rye asks you at any time for your word, you 
 will do as you deem convenient ; but I am 
 sure you will oblige him by allowing me to braid 
 your hair/' 
 
 " I shall not do it to oblige him/' said Belle ; 
 " the young rye, as you call him, is nothing 
 to me." 
 
 " Well, then, to oblige me," said Mrs. Petu- 
 lengro ; " do allow me to become your poor 
 tire-woman/' 
 
 " It is great nonsense/' said Belle, reddening ; 
 " however, as you came to see me, and ask the 
 matter as a particular favour to yourself . . . ." 
 
 " Thank you, madam," said Mrs. Petulengro, 
 
 VOL. I. E 
 
74 THE ROMANY RYE [Ch. VI. 
 
 leading Belle to the stool ; " please to sit down 
 here. Thank you ; your hair is very beautiful, 
 madam," she continued, as she proceeded to braid 
 Belle's hair ; " so is your countenance. Should 
 you ever go to the great city, among the grand 
 folks, you would make a sensation, madam. I 
 have made one myself, who am dark ; the chi 
 she is kauley, which last word signifies black, 
 which I am not, though rather dark. There '& 
 no colour like white, madam ; it 's so lasting, so 
 genteel. Gentility will carry the day, madam, 
 even with the young rye. He will ask words of 
 the black lass, but beg the word of the fair/' 
 
 In the meantime Mr. Petulengro and myself 
 entered into conversation. " Any news stirring, 
 Mr. Petulengro 1" said I. " Have you heard 
 anything of the great religious movements ?" 
 
 " Plenty/' said Mr. Petulengro ; " all the reli- 
 gious people, more especially the Evangelicals 
 those that go about distributing tracts are 
 very angry about the fight between Gentleman 
 Cooper and White-headed Bob, which they say 
 ought not to have been permitted to take place ; 
 and then they are trying all they can to prevent 
 the fight between the lion and the dogs, which 
 they say is a disgrace to a Christian country. 
 Now, I can't say that I have any quarrel with 
 
Ch. VI.] THE ROMANY RYE. 75 
 
 the religious party and the Evangelicals ; they 
 are always civil to me and mine, and frequently 
 give us tracts, as they call them, which neither I 
 nor mine can read ; but I cannot say that I ap- 
 prove of any movements, religious or not, which 
 have in aim to put down all life and manly 
 sport in this here ccountry." 
 
 " Anything else ?" said I. 
 
 " People are becoming vastly sharp/' said Mr. 
 Petulengro ; " and I am told that all the old- 
 fashioned, good-tempered constables are going to 
 be set aside, and a paid body of men to be 
 established, who are not to permit a tramper or 
 vagabond on the roads of England ; and talking 
 of roads, puts me in mind of a strange story 
 I heard two nights ago, whilst drinking some 
 beer at a public-house, in company with my 
 cousin Sylvester. I had asked Tawno to go, 
 but his wife would not let him. Just oppo- 
 site me, smoking their pipes, were a couple 
 of men, something like engineers, and they were 
 talking of a wonderful invention which was 
 to make a wonderful alteration in England ; in- 
 asmuch as it would set aside all the old roads, 
 which in a little time would be ploughed up, 
 and sowed with corn, and cause all England 
 to be laid down with iron roads, on which 
 
 E 2 
 
76 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. VI. 
 
 people would go thundering along in vehicles, 
 pushed forward by fire and smoke. Now, 
 brother, when I heard this, I did not feel very 
 comfortable ; for I thought to myself, what a 
 queer place such a road would be to pitch one's 
 tent upon, and how impossible it would be 
 for one's cattle to find a bite of grass upon it ; 
 and I thought likewise of the danger to which 
 one's family would be exposed of being run 
 over and severely scorched by these same flying, 
 fiery vehicles ; so I made bold to say, that I 
 hoped such an invention would never be counte- 
 nanced, because it was likely to do a great deal 
 of harm. Whereupon, one of the men, giving 
 me a glance, said, without taking the pipe out of 
 his mouth, that for his part, he sincerely hoped 
 that it would take effect ; and if it did no other 
 good than stopping the rambles of gypsies, and 
 other like scamps, it ought to be encouraged. 
 Well, brother, feeling myself insulted, I put my 
 hand into my pocket, in order to pull out money, 
 intending to challenge him to fight for a five- 
 shilling stake, but merely found sixpence, having 
 left all my other money at the tent ; which six- 
 pence was just sufficient to pay for the beer 
 which Sylvester and myself were drinking, 
 of whom I couldn't hope to borrow anything 
 
Ch. VI.] THE KOMANY RYE. 77 
 
 4 poor as Sylvester' being a by- word amongst us. 
 So, not being able to back myself, I held my 
 peace, and let the Gorgio have it all his own 
 way, who, after turning up his nose at me, went 
 on discoursing about the said invention, saying 
 what a fund of profit it would be to those who 
 knew how to make use of it, and should have 
 the laying down of the new roads, and the 
 shoeing of England with iron. And after he 
 had said this, and much more of the same kind, 
 which I cannot remember, he and his companion 
 got up and walked away ; and presently I and 
 Sylvester got up and walked to our camp ; and 
 there I lay down in my tent by the side of my 
 wife, where I had an ugly dream of having 
 camped upon an iron road ; my tent being over- 
 turned by a flying vehicle ; my wife's leg 
 injured ; and all my affairs put into great 
 confusion/' 
 
 " Now, madam," said Mrs. Petulengro, " I 
 have braided your hair in our fashion : you look 
 very beautiful, madam ; more beautiful, if possi- 
 ble, than before." Belle now rose, and came for- 
 ward with her tire-woman. Mr. Petulengro was 
 loud in his applause, but I said nothing, for I 
 did not think Belle was improved in appearance 
 by having submitted to the ministry of Mrs. 
 
78 THE EOMANY RYE. [Ch. VI. 
 
 Petulengro's hand. Nature never intended 
 Belle to appear as a gypsy ; she had made her 
 too proud and serious. A more proper part for 
 her was that of a heroine, a queenly heroine, 
 that of Theresa of Hungary, for example ; or, 
 better still, that of Brynhilda the Valkyrie, the 
 beloved of Sigurd, the serpent-killer, who in- 
 curred the curse of Odin, because, in the tumult 
 of spears, she sided with the youiig king, and 
 doomed the old warrior to die, to whom Odin had 
 promised victory. 
 
 Belle looked at me for a moment in silence ; 
 then turning to Mrs. Petulengro, she said, " You 
 have had your will with me ; are you satisfied?" 
 " Quite so, madam/' said Mrs. Petulengro, " and 
 I hope you will be so too, as soon as you have 
 looked in the glass." " I have looked in one al- 
 ready," said Belle, "and the glass does not 
 flatter." " You mean the face of the young 
 rye," said Mrs. Petulengro, " never mind him, 
 madam ; the young rye, though he knows a 
 thing or two, is not a university, nor a person of 
 universal wisdom. I assure you, that you never 
 looked so well before ; and I hope that, from 
 this moment, you will wear your hair in this 
 way." " And who is to braid it in this way?" 
 said Belle, smiling. " I, madam," said Mrs. 
 
Ch. VI.] THE ROMANY RYE. 79 
 
 Petulengro, " I will braid it for you every morn- 
 ing, if you will but be persuaded to join us. 
 Do so, madam, and I think, if you did, the 
 young rye would do so too." " The young rye 
 is nothing to me, nor I to him," said Belle, " we 
 have staid some time together ; but our paths 
 will soon be apart. Now, farewell, for I am 
 about to take a journey." " And you will go 
 out with your hair as I have braided it," said 
 Mrs. Petulengro, " if you do, everybody will be 
 in love with you." " No," said Belle, " hitherto 
 I have allowed you to do what you please, but 
 henceforth I shall have my own way. Come, 
 come," said she, observing that the gypsy was 
 about to speak, " we have had enough of non- 
 sense ; whenever I leave this hollow, it will be 
 wearing my hair in my own fashion." " Come, 
 wife," said Mr. Petulengro, " we will no longer 
 intrude upon the rye and rawnie, there is such 
 a. thing as being troublesome." Thereupon Mr. 
 Petulengro and his wife took their leave, with 
 many salutations. "Then you are going?" said 
 I, when Belle and I were left alone. " Yes/' said 
 Belle, " I am going on a journey ; my affairs 
 compel me." "But you will return again?" said 
 J. " Yes," said Belle, " I shall return once more." 
 
SO THE ROMANY EYE. [Ch. VI. 
 
 " Once more," said I ; " what do you mean by 
 once more ? The Petulengros will soon be gone, 
 and will you abandon me in this place ?" " You 
 were alone here/' said Belle, " before I came, and, 
 I suppose, found it agreeable, or you would not 
 have stayed in it." "Yes/' said I, "that was 
 before I knew you ; but having lived with you 
 here, I should be very loth to live here without 
 you/' "-Indeed/' said Belle, "I did not know 
 that I was of so much consequence to you. Well, 
 the day is wearing away I must go and har- 
 ness Traveller to the cart." " I will do that," 
 said I, " or anything else you may wish me. Go 
 and prepare yourself; I will see after Traveller 
 and the cart." Belle departed to her tent, and 
 I set about performing the task I had under- 
 taken. In about half-an-hour Belle again made 
 her appearance she was dressed neatly and 
 plainly. Her hair was no longer in the Roman 
 fashion, in which Pakomovna had plaited it, but 
 was secured by a comb ; she held a bonnet in her 
 hand. " Is there anything else I can do for you ?" 
 I demanded. " There are two or three bundles 
 by my tent, which you can put into the cart/' 
 said Belle. I put the bundles into the cart, and 
 then led Traveller and the cart up the winding 
 
Ch. VI.] THE EOMANY EYE. 81 
 
 path, to the mouth of the dingle, near which was 
 Mr. Petulengro's encampment. Belle followed. 
 At the top, I delivered the reins into her hands; 
 we looked at each other stedfastly for some time. 
 Belle then departed, and I returned to the dingle, 
 where, seating myself on my stone, I remained 
 for upwards of an hour in thought. 
 
 E 3 
 
CHAPTER YIL 
 
 THE FESTIVAL. THE GYPSY SONG. PIRAMUS OF ROME. THE 
 SCOTCHMAN. GYPSY NAMES. 
 
 ON the following day there was much feasting 
 amongst the Romany chals of Mr. Petulengro's 
 party. Throughout the forenoon the Romany 
 chies did scarcely anything but cook flesh, and 
 the flesh which they cooked was swine's flesh. 
 About two o'clock, the chals and chies dividing 
 themselves into various parties, sat down and 
 partook of the fare, which was partly roasted, 
 partly sodden. I dined that day with Mr. 
 Petulengro and his wife and family, Ursula, 
 Mr. and Mrs. Chikno, and Sylvester and his 
 two children. Sylvester, it will be as well to 
 say, was a widower, and had consequently no 
 one to cook his victuals for him, supposing he 
 had any, which was not always the case, Syl- 
 vester's affairs being seldom in a prosperous 
 state. He was noted for his bad success in 
 
Ch. VII.] THE ROMANY RYE. 83 
 
 trafficking, notwithstanding the many hints 
 which he received from Jasper, under whose 
 protection he had placed himself, even as Tawno 
 Chikno had done, who himself, as the reader 
 has heard on a former occasion, was anything 
 but a wealthy subject, though he was at all 
 times better off than Sylvester, the Lazarus of 
 the Romany tribe. 
 
 All our party ate with a good appetite, ex- 
 cept myself, who, feeling rather melancholy that 
 day, had little desire to eat. I did not, like 
 the others, partake of the pork, but got my 
 dinner entirely off the body of a squirrel which 
 had been shot the day before by a chal of the 
 name of Pirarnus, who, besides being a good shot, 
 was celebrated for his skill in playing on the 
 fiddle. During the dinner a horn filled with 
 ale passed frequently around, I drank of it more 
 than once"] and felt inspirited by the draughts. 
 The repast concluded, Sylvester and his children 
 departed to their tent, and Mr. Petulengro, 
 Tawno, and myself getting up, went and lay 
 down under a shady hedge, where Mr. Petu- 
 lengro, lighting his pipe, began to smoke, and 
 where Tawno presently fell asleep. I was about 
 to fall asleep also, when I heard the sound of 
 music and song. Piramus was playing on the 
 
84 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. VII. 
 
 fiddle, whilst Mrs. Chikno, who had a voice of 
 
 her own, was singing in tones sharp enough, 
 but of great power, a gypsy song : 
 
 POISONING THE PORKER. 
 BY MRS. CHIKNO. 
 
 To mande shoon ye Romany chals 
 Who besh in the pus about the yag, 
 I '11 pen how we drab the baulo, 
 I '11 pen how we drab the baulo. 
 
 We jaws to the drab-engro ker, 
 Trin horsworth there of drab we lels, 
 And when to the swety back we wels 
 We pens we '11 drab the baulo, 
 We '11 have a drab at a baulo. 
 
 And then we kairs the drab opre", 
 And then we jaws to the farming ker, 
 To mang a beti habben, 
 A beti poggado habben. 
 
 A rinkeno baulo there we dick, 
 And then we pens in Romano jib ; 
 Wust Us odoi opre" ye chick, 
 And the baulo he will lei lis, 
 The baulo he will lei lis. 
 
 Coliko, coliko saulo we 
 Apopli to the farming ker 
 Will wel and mang him mullo, 
 Will wel and mang his truppo. 
 
Ch. VII.] THE ROMANY RYE. 85 
 
 And so we kairs, and so we kairs ; 
 The baulo in the rarde mers ; 
 "We mang him on the saulo, 
 And rig to the tan the baulo. 
 
 And then we toves the wendror well 
 Till sore the wendror iuziou se, 
 Till kekkeno drab's adrey lis, 
 Till drab there 'a kek adrey lis. 
 
 And then his truppo well we hatch, 
 Kin levinor at the kitchema, 
 And have a kosko habben, 
 A kosko Romano habben. 
 
 The boshom engro kils, he kils, 
 The tawnie juva gils, she gils 
 A puro Romano gillie, 
 Now shoon the Romano gillie. 
 
 Which song I had translated in the following 
 manner, in my younger days, for a lady's album. 
 
 Listen to me ye Roman lads, who are seated in the 
 straw about the fire, and I will tell how we poison the 
 porker, I will tell how we poison the porker. 
 
 We go to the house of the poison monger,* where 
 we buy three pennies' worth of bane, and when we re- 
 turn to our people we say, we will poison the porker ; 
 we will try and poison the porker. 
 
 We then make up the poison, and then we take our 
 * The apothecary. 
 
86 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. VII. 
 
 way to the house of the farmer, as if to beg a bit of 
 victuals, a little broken victuals. 
 
 We see a jolly porker, and then we say in Roman 
 language, " Fling the bane yonder amongst the dirt, 
 and the porker soon will find it, the porker soon will 
 find it." 
 
 Early on the morrow, we will return to the farm- 
 house, and beg the dead porker, the body of the dead 
 porker. 
 
 And so we do, even so we do; the porker dieth 
 during the night ; on the morrow we beg the porker, 
 and carry to the tent the porker. 
 
 And then we wash the inside well, till all the inside 
 is perfectly clean, till there 's no bane within it, not a 
 poison grain within it. 
 
 And then we roast the body well, send for ale to the 
 alehouse, and have a merry banquet, a merry Roman 
 banquet. 
 
 The fellow with the fiddle plays, he plays ; the little 
 lassie sings, she sings an ancient Roman ditty ; now 
 hear the Roman ditty. 
 
 SONG OF THE BROKEN CHASTITY. 
 BY URSULA. 
 
 Penn'd the Romany chi kg laki dye 
 " Miry dearie dye mi shorn cambri ! " 
 " And savo kair'd tute cambri, 
 
 Miry dearie chi, miry Romany chi?" 
 " miry dye a boro rye, 
 
 A bovalo rye, a gorgiko rye, 
 
Ch. VII.] THE ROMANY RYE. 87 
 
 Sos kistur pre" a pellengo grye, 
 'Twas yov sos kerdo man cambri." 
 " Tu tawnie vassavie lubbeny, 
 Tu chal from miry tan abri ; 
 Had a Romany chal kair'd tute cambri, 
 Then I had penn'd ke tute chie, 
 But tu shan a vassavie lubbeny 
 With gorgikie rat to be cambri. 
 
 " There 'a some kernel in those songs, brother," 
 said Mr. Petulengro, when the songs and music 
 were over. 
 
 " Yes/' said I, " they are certainly very re- 
 markable songs. I say, Jasper, I hope you have 
 not been drabbing baulor lately/' 
 
 "And suppose we have, brother, what then?" 
 
 " Why it is a very dangerous practice, to say 
 nothing of the wickedness of it." 
 
 "Necessity has no law, brother." 
 
 " That is true," said I, " I have always said 
 so, but you are not necessitous, and should not 
 drab baulor." 
 
 " And who told you we had been drabbing 
 baulor V 9 
 
 " Why, you have had a banquet of pork, and 
 after the banquet, Mrs. Chikno sang a song 
 about drabbing baulor, so I naturally thought 
 you might have lately been engaged in such a 
 thing." 
 
88 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. VII. 
 
 " Brother, you occasionally utter a word or 
 two of common sense. It was natural for you 
 to suppose, after seeing that dinner of pork, and 
 hearing that song, that we had been drabbing 
 baulor ; I will now tell you that we have not 
 been doing so. What have you to say to that?" 
 
 " That I am very glad of it." 
 
 "Had you tasted that pork, brother, you 
 would have found that it was sweet and tasty, 
 which balluva that is drabbed can hardly be 
 expected to be. We have no reason to drab 
 baulor at present, we have money and credit ; 
 but necessity has no law. Our forefathers occa- 
 sionally drabbed baulor, some of our people may 
 still do such a thing, but only from compulsion/' 
 
 " I see/' said I ; " and at your merry meetings 
 you sing songs upon the compulsatory deeds of 
 your people, alias their villainous actions ; and, 
 after all, what would the stirring poetry of any 
 nation be, but for its compulsatory deeds ? Look 
 at the poetry of Scotland, the heroic part, 
 founded almost entirely on the villainous deeds 
 of the Scotch nation ; Cow-stealing, for ex- 
 ample, which is very little better than drabbing 
 baulor ; whilst the softer part is mostly about 
 the slips of its females among the broom, so that 
 no upholder of Scotch poetry could censure 
 
Oh. VII.] THE ROMANY RYE. 89 
 
 Ursula's song as indelicate, even if he understood 
 it. What do you think, Jasper?" 
 
 " I think, brother, as I before said, that occa- 
 sionally you utter a word of common sense ; you 
 were talking of the Scotch, brother ; what do 
 you think of a Scotchman finding fault with 
 Romany ?" 
 
 "A Scotchman finding fault with Romany, 
 Jasper ! Oh dear, but you joke, the thing could 
 never be/' 
 
 " Yes, and at Piramus's fiddle ; what do you 
 think of a Scotchman turning up his nose at 
 Piramus's fiddle ? " 
 
 " A Scotchman turning up his nose at Pira- 
 mus's fiddle ! nonsense, Jasper." 
 
 " Do you know what I most dislike, 
 brother?" 
 
 " I do not, unless it be the constable, Jasper." 
 
 " It is not the constable, it 's a beggar on 
 horseback, br other. " 
 
 " What do you mean by a beggar on horse- 
 back ?" 
 
 "Why, a scamp, brother, raised above his 
 proper place, who takes every opportunity of 
 giving himself fine airs. About a week ago, my 
 people and myself camped on a green by a 
 plantation in the neighbourhood of a great house. 
 
90 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. VII. 
 
 In the evening we were making merry, the girls 
 were dancing, while Piramus was playing on the 
 fiddle a tune of his own composing, to which he 
 has given his own name, Piramus of Rome, and 
 which is much celebrated amongst our people, 
 and from which I have been told that one of 
 the grand gorgio composers, who once heard 
 it, has taken several hints. So, as we were 
 making merry, a great many grand people, 
 lords and ladies, I believe, came from the great 
 house and looked on, as the girls danced to the 
 tune of Piramus of Rome, and seemed much 
 pleased ; and when the girls had left off dancing,, 
 and Piramus playing, the ladies wanted to have 
 their fortunes told ; so I bade Mikailia Chikno, 
 who can tell a fortune when she pleases better 
 than any one else, tell them a fortune, and she, 
 being in a good mind, told them a fortune 
 which pleased them very much. So, after they 
 had heard their fortunes, one of them asked if 
 any of our women could sing ; and I told them 
 several could, more particularly Leviathan you 
 know Leviathan, she is not here now, but some 
 miles distant, she is our best singer, Ursula 
 coming next. So the lady said she should like 
 to hear Leviathan sing, whereupon Leviathan 
 sang the Gudlo pesham, and Piramus played the 
 
Ch. VII.] THE EOMANY EYE. 9 1 
 
 tune of the same name, which, as you know, 
 means the honeycomb, the song and the tune 
 being well entitled to the name, being wonder- 
 fully sweet. Well, everybody present seemed 
 mighty well pleased with the song and music, 
 with the exception of one person, a carroty- 
 haired Scotch body ; how he came there I don't 
 know, but there he was ; and, coming forward, 
 he began in Scotch as broad as a barn-door to 
 find fault with the music and the song, saying, 
 that he had never heard viler stuff than either. 
 Well, brother, out of consideration for the civil 
 gentry with whom the fellow had come, I held my 
 peace for a long time, and in order to get the sub- 
 ject changed, I said to Mikailia in Komany, you 
 have told the ladies their fortunes, now tell the 
 gentlemen theirs, quick, quick, pen lende duk- 
 kerin. Well, brother, the Scotchman, I suppose, 
 thinking I was speaking ill of him, fell into a 
 greater passion than before, and catching hold 
 of the word dukkerin c Dukkerin/ said he, 
 ' what 's dukkerin V ' Dukkerin/ said I, ' is for- 
 tune, a man or woman's destiny ; don't you like 
 the word?' 'Word! d'ye ca' that a word? a 
 bonnie word/ said he. ' Perhaps you "11 tell us 
 what it is in Scotch/ said I, ' in order that we 
 may improve our language by a Scotch word ; a 
 
92 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. VII. 
 
 pal of mine has told me that we have taken a 
 great many words from foreign lingos.' ' Why, 
 then, if that be the case, fellow, I will tell you ; it 
 is e'en " spacing/" said he, very seriously. ' Well, 
 then/ said I, ' I '11 keep my own word, which is 
 much the prettiest spacing ! spacing ! why, I 
 should be ashamed to make use of the word, 
 it sounds so much like a certain other word / 
 and then I made a face as if I were unwell. 
 ' Perhaps it 's Scotch also for that?' ' What do 
 ye mean by speaking in that ^uise to a gen- 
 tleman?' said he, 'you insolent vagabond, with- 
 out a name or a country/ ' There you are mis- 
 taken/ said I, ' my country is Egypt, but we 
 'Gyptians, like you Scotch, are rather fond of 
 travelling ; and as for name my name is Jasper 
 Petulengro, perhaps you have a better ; what is 
 it?' 'Sandy Macraw.' At that, brother, the 
 gentlemen burst into a roar of laughter, and all 
 the ladies tittered." 
 
 " You were rather severe on the Scotchman, 
 Jasper." 
 
 " Not at all, brother, and suppose I were, he 
 began first ; I am the civilest man in the world, 
 and never interfere with anybody, who lets me 
 and mine alone. He finds fault with Ro- 
 
Ch. VII.] THE ROMANY RYE. 93 
 
 many, forsooth ! why, L d A'mighty, what's 
 Scotch ? He doesn't like our songs ; what are his 
 own ? I understand them as little as he mine ; 
 I have heard one or two of them, and pretty 
 rubbish they seemed. But the best of the joke 
 is, the fellow's finding fault with Piramus's 
 fiddle a chap from the land of bagpipes find- 
 ing fault with Piramus's fiddle ! Why, I '11 
 back that fiddle against all the bagpipes in 
 Scotland, and Piramus against all the bagpipers ; 
 for though Piramus weighs but ten stone, he 
 shall flog a Scotchman of twenty." 
 
 " Scotchmen are never so fat as that," said I, 
 " unless, indeed, they have been a long time 
 pensioners of England I say, Jasper, what re- 
 markable names your people have !" 
 
 " And what pretty names, brother ; there 's 
 my own, for example, Jasper ; then there 's 
 Ambrose and Sylvester ; then there 's Culvato, 
 which signifies Claude ; then there 's Piramus, 
 that 's a nice name, brother/' 
 
 " Then there 's your wife's name, Pakomovna ; 
 then there's Ursula and Morella." 
 
 " Then, brother, there 's Ercilla/' 
 
 " Ercilla ! the name of the great poet of Spain, 
 how wonderful ; then Leviathan." 
 
94 THE KOMANY RYE. [Ch. VII. 
 
 " The name of a ship, brother ; Leviathan was 
 named after a ship, so don't make a wonder out 
 of her. But there 's Sanpriel and Synfye." 
 
 " Ay, and Clementina and Lavinia, Camillia 
 and Lydia, Cuiianda and Orlanda ; wherever did 
 they get those names ?" 
 
 " Where did my wife get her necklace, 
 brother?" 
 
 " She knows best, Jasper. I hope . . . . " 
 
 " Come, no hoping ! She got it from her 
 grandmother, who died at the age of a hundred 
 and three, and sleeps in Coggeshall churchyard. 
 She got it from her mother, who also died very 
 old, and who could give no other account of it 
 than that it had been in the family time out of 
 mind." 
 
 " Whence could they have got it ?" 
 
 " Why, perhaps where they got their names, 
 brother. A gentleman, who had travelled much, 
 once told me that he had seen the sister of it 
 about the neck of an Indian queen." 
 
 " Some of your names, Jasper, appear to be 
 church names ; your own, for example, and Am- 
 brose, and Sylvester ; perhaps you got them from 
 the Papists, in the times of Popery ; but where 
 did you get such a name as Piramus, a name of 
 
Ch. VII.] THE ROMANY RYE. 95 
 
 Grecian romance. Then some of them appear 
 to be Slavonian ; for example, Mikailia and 
 Pakomovna. I don't know much of Slavonian ; 
 but . ..." 
 
 " What is Slavonian, brother ?" 
 
 " The family name of certain nations, the 
 principal of which is the Russian, and from which 
 the word slave is originally derived. You have 
 heard of the Russians, Jasper ? " 
 
 " Yes, brother ; and seen some. I saw their 
 crallis at the time of the peace ; he was not a 
 bad-looking man for a Russian/' 
 
 " By the bye, Jasper, I 'm half inclined to 
 think that crallis is a Slavish word. I saw 
 something like it in a lil called ' Voltaire's Life 
 of Charles.' How you should have come by 
 such names and words is to me incomprehen- 
 sible." 
 
 " You seem posed, brother." 
 
 " I really know very little about you, 
 Jasper." 
 
 " Very little indeed, brother. We know very 
 little about ourselves ; and you know nothing, 
 save what we have told you ; and we have 
 now and then told you things about us which 
 are not exactly true, simply to make a fool 
 
9 6 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. VII. 
 
 of you, brother. 'You will say that was wrong ; 
 perhaps it was. Well, Sunday will be here 
 in a day or two, when we will go to church, 
 where possibly we shall hear a sermon on the 
 disastrous consequences of lying/' 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE CHURCH. THE ARISTOCRATICAL PEW. DAYS OF YORE. 
 ' THE CLERGYMAN. " IN WHAT WOULD A MAN BE PROFITED V 
 
 WHEN two days had passed, Sunday came ; I 
 breakfasted by myself in the solitary dingle ; and 
 then, having set things a little to rights, I 
 ascended to Mr. Petulengro's encampment. I 
 could hear church-bells ringing around in the 
 distance, appearing to say, " Come to church, 
 come to church/' as clearly as it was possible for 
 church-bells to say. I found Mr. Petulengro 
 seated by the door of his tent, smoking his pipe, 
 in rather an ungenteel undress. " Well, Jasper," 
 said I, " are you ready to go to church ; for if 
 you are, I am ready to accompany you ?" "I 
 am not ready, brother/' said Mr. Petulengro, 
 " nor is my wife ; the church, too, to which we 
 shall go is three miles off; so it is of no use to 
 think of going there this morning, as the service 
 would be three-quarters over before we got 
 there ; if, however, you are disposed to go in the 
 
 VOL. I. F 
 
98 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. Till. 
 
 afternoon, we are your people/' Thereupon I 
 returned to my dingle, where I passed several 
 hours in conning the Welsh Bible, which the 
 preacher, Peter Williams, had given me. 
 
 At last I gave over reading, took a slight 
 refreshment, and was about to emerge from the 
 dingle, when I heard the voice of Mr. Petulengro 
 calling me. I went up again to the encampment, 
 where I found Mr. Petulengro, his wife, and 
 Tawno Chikno, ready to proceed to church. Mr. 
 and Mrs. Petulengro were dressed in Roman 
 fashion, though not in the full-blown manner in 
 which they had paid their visit to Isopel and 
 myself. Tawno had on a clean white slop, with 
 a nearly new black beaver, with very broad rims, 
 and the nap exceedingly long. As for myself, I 
 was dressed in much the same manner as that in 
 which I departed from London, having on, in 
 honour of the day, a shirt perfectly clean, having 
 washed one on purpose for the occasion, with 
 my own hands, the day before, in the pond of 
 tepid water in which the newts and efts were in 
 the habit of taking their pleasure. We pro- 
 ceeded for upwards of a mile, by footpaths 
 through meadows and corn-fields ; we crossed 
 various stiles ; at last, passing over one, we found 
 ourselves m a road, wending along which for a 
 
Ch. VIII.] THE ROMANY RYE. 9 9 
 
 considerable distance, we at last came in sight of 
 a church, the bells of which had been tolling dis- 
 tinctly in our ears for some time ; before, how- 
 ever, we reached the church-yard the bells had 
 ceased their melody. It was surrounded by 
 lofty beech-trees of brilliant green foliage. We 
 entered the gate, Mrs. Petulengro leading the 
 way, and proceeded to a small door near the east 
 end of the church. As we advanced, the sound 
 of singing within the church rose upon our ears. 
 Arrived at the small door, Mrs. Petulengro 
 opened it and entered, followed by Tawno 
 Chikno. I myself went last of all, following- 
 Mr. Petulengro, who, before I entered, turned 
 round, and, with a significant nod, advised me to 
 take care how I behaved. The part of the 
 church which we had entered was the chancel ; 
 on one side stood a number of venerable old 
 men probably the neighbouring poor and on 
 the other a number of poor girls belonging to the 
 village school, dressed in white gowns and straw 
 bonnets, whom two elegant but simply dressed 
 young women were superintending. Every voice 
 seemed to be united in singing a certain anthem, 
 which, notwithstanding it was written neither 
 by Tate nor Brady, contains some of the 
 sublimest words which were ever put together, 
 
 F 2 
 
100 THE ROMANY EYE. [Ch. YITI. 
 
 not the worst of which are those which burst on 
 our ears as we entered. 
 
 "Every eye shall now behold Him, 
 Robed in dreadful majesty ; 
 Those who set at nought and sold Him, 
 Pierced and nailed Him to the tree, 
 
 Deeply wailing, 
 
 Shall the true Messiah see." 
 
 Still following Mrs. Petulengro, we proceeded 
 down the chancel and along the aisle ; notwith- 
 standing the singing, I could distinctly hear as 
 we passed many a voice whispering, "Here 
 come the gypsies ! here come the gypsies ! " I 
 felt rather embarrassed, with a somewhat awk- 
 ward doubt as to where we were to sit; none of 
 the occupiers of the pews, who appeared to con- 
 sist almost entirely of farmers, with their wives, 
 sons, and daughters, opened a door to admit us. 
 Mrs. Petulengro, however, appeared to feel not 
 the least embarrassment, but tripped along the 
 aisle with the greatest nonchalance. We passed 
 under the pulpit, in which stood the clergyman 
 in his white surplice, and reached the middle of 
 the church, where we were confronted by the 
 sexton dressed in long blue coat, and holding in 
 his hand a wand. This functionary motioned 
 towards the lower end of the church, where 
 
Ch. Yin.] THE ROMANY;^Y ; E, , , .>. 1.01 
 
 were certain benches, partly . occupied , by pooi; 
 people and boys. Mrs! ' jPfcta'leiigi'o,' "froVeverj ' 
 with a toss of her head, directed her course to a 
 magnificent pew, which was unoccupied, which 
 she opened and entered, followed closely by 
 Tawno Chikno, Mr. Petulengro, and myself. 
 The sexton did not appear by any means to ap- 
 prove of the arrangement, and as I stood next 
 the door laid his finger on my arm, as if to 
 intimate that myself and companions must quit 
 our aristocratical location. I said nothing, but 
 directed my eyes to the clergyman, who uttered 
 a short and expressive cough; the sexton looked 
 at him for a moment, and then, bowing his head, 
 closed the door in a moment more the music 
 ceased. I took up a prayer-book, on which was 
 engraved an earl's coronet. The clergyman 
 uttered, " I will arise, and go to my father/' 
 England's sublime liturgy had commenced. 
 
 Oh what feelings came over me on finding 
 myself again in an edifice devoted to the reli- 
 gion of my country. I had not been in such a 
 place I cannot tell for how long certainly not 
 for years ; and now I had found my way there 
 again, it appeared as if I had fallen asleep in 
 the pew of the old church of pretty D . . . . I 
 had occasionally done so when a child, and had 
 
102 THE HOMANY EYE. [Ck. VIII. 
 
 suddenly woke up. Yes, surely I had been 
 YtVleep' :' t n<i had woken up ; but, no ! alas, no ! 
 I had not been asleep at least not in the old 
 church if I had been asleep I had been walk- 
 ing in my sleep, struggling, striving, learn- 
 ing, and unlearning in my sleep. Years had 
 rolled away whilst I had been asleep ripe 
 fruit had fallen, green fruit had come on 
 whilst I had been asleep how circumstances 
 had altered, and above all myself, whilst I had 
 been asleep. No, I had not been asleep in the 
 old church ! I was in a pew it is true, but not 
 the pew of black leather, in which I sometimes 
 fell asleep in days of yore, but in a strange pew ; 
 and then my companions, they were no longer 
 those of days of yore. I was no longer with 
 my respectable father and mother, and my dear 
 brother, but with the gypsy cral and his wife, 
 and the gigantic Tawno, the Antinous of the 
 dusky people. And what was I myself? No 
 longer an innocent child, but a moody man, 
 bearing in my face, as I knew well, the marks of 
 my strivings and strugglings, of what I had 
 learnt and unlearnt ; nevertheless, the general 
 aspect of things brought to my mind what I 
 had felt and seen of yore. There was difference 
 enough it is true, but still there was a simila- 
 
Ch. VIIL] THE KOMANY RYE. 103 
 
 rity at least I thought so the church, the cler- 
 gyman, and the clerk, differing in many respects 
 from those of pretty D . . . , put me strangely 
 in mind of them ; and then the words ! by the 
 bye, was it not the magic of the words which 
 brought the dear enchanting past so powerfully 
 before the mind of Lavengro ? for the words 
 were the same sonorous words of high import 
 which had first made an impression on his 
 childish ear in the old church of pretty D . . . . 
 The liturgy was now over, during the reading 
 of which my companions behaved in a most 
 unexceptionable manner, sitting down and rising 
 up when other people sat down and rose, and 
 holding in their hands prayer-books which they 
 found in the pew, into which they stared in- 
 tently, though I observed that, with the excep- 
 tion of Mrs. Petulengro, who knew how to read 
 a little, they held the books by the top, and not 
 the bottom, as is the usual way. The clergy- 
 man now ascended the pulpit, arrayed in his 
 black gown. The congregation composed them- 
 selves to attention, as did also my companions, 
 who fixed their eyes upon the clergyman with a 
 certain strange immovable stare, which I believe 
 to be peculiar to their race. The clergyman 
 gave out his text, and began to preach. He was 
 
104 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. VIII. 
 
 a tall, gentlemanly man, seemingly between fifty 
 and sixty, with greyish hair ; his features were 
 very handsome, but with a somewhat melan- 
 choly cast : the tones of his voice were rich and 
 noble, but also with somewhat of melancholy in 
 them. The iext which he gave out was the 
 following one, " In what would a man be pro- 
 fited, provided he gained the whole world, 
 and lost his own soul ?" 
 
 And on this text the clergyman preached long 
 and well : he did not read his sermon, but spoke 
 it extempore ; his doing so rather surprised and 
 offended me at first ; I was not used to such a 
 style of preaching in a church devoted to the 
 religion of my country. I compared it within 
 iny mind with the style of preaching used by 
 the high-church rector in the old church of 
 pretty D . . . ., and I thought to myself it was 
 very different, and being very different I did 
 not like it, and I thought to myself how scan- 
 dalized the people of D .... would have been 
 had they heard it, and I figured to myself how 
 indignant the high-church clerk would have been 
 had any clergyman got up in the church of 
 D . . . . and preached in such a manner. Did 
 it not savour strongly of dissent, methodism, and 
 similar low stuff ? Surely it did ; why the 
 
Ch. VIII.] THE ROMANY RYE. 105 
 
 Methodist I had heard preach on the heath 
 above the old city, preached in the same manner 
 at least he preached extempore ; ay, and some- 
 thing like the present clergyman, for the Metho- 
 dist spoke very zealously and with great feeling, 
 and so did the present clergyman ; so I, of course, 
 felt rather offended with the clergyman for 
 speaking with zeal and feeling. However, long 
 before the sermon was over I forgot the offence 
 which I had taken, and listened to the sermon 
 with much admiration, for the eloquence and 
 powerful reasoning with which it abounded. 
 
 Oh how eloquent he was, when he talked of 
 the inestimable value of a man's soul, which he 
 said endured for ever, whilst his body, as every 
 one knew, lasted at most for a very contempt- 
 ible period of time ; and how forcibly he reasoned 
 on the folly of a man, who, for the sake of gain- 
 ing the whole world a thing, he said, which pro- 
 vided he gained he could only possess for a part 
 of the time, during which his perishable body 
 existed should lose his soul, that is, cause that 
 precious deathless portion of him to suffer inde- 
 scribable misery time without end. 
 
 There was one part of his sermon which struck 
 me in a very particular manner : he said, " That 
 there were some people who gained something in 
 
 F 3 
 
106 THE ROMANY RYE. [Oh. VIII. 
 
 return for their souls ; if they did not get the 
 whole world, they got a part of it lands, wealth, 
 honour, or renown ; mere trifles, he allowed, in 
 comparison with the value of a man's soul, which 
 is destined either to enjoy delight, or suffer tri- 
 bulation time without end ; but which, in the eyes 
 of the worldly, had a certain value, and which af- 
 forded a certain pleasure and satisfaction. But 
 there were also others who lost their souls, and 
 got nothing for them neither lands, wealth, 
 renown, nor consideration, who were poor out- 
 casts, and despised by everybody. My friends/' 
 he added, " if the man is a fool who barters his 
 soul for the whole world, what a fool he must 
 be who barters his soul for nothing." 
 
 The eyes of the clergyman, as he uttered these 
 words, wandered around the whole congregation ; 
 and when he had concluded them, the eyes of 
 the whole congregation were turned upon my 
 companions and myself. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 RETURN FROM CHURCH. THE CUCKOO AND GYPSY. SPIRITUAL 
 DISCOURSE. 
 
 THE service over, my companions and myself re- 
 turned towards the encampment, by the way we 
 came. Some of the humble part of the congre- 
 gation laughed and joked at us as we passed. 
 Mr. Petulengro and his wife, however, returned 
 their laughs and jokes with interest. As for 
 Tawno and myself, we said nothing : Tawno, 
 like most handsome fellows, having very little to 
 say for himself at any time ; and myself, though 
 not handsome, not being particularly skilful at 
 repartee. Some boys followed us for a consider- 
 able time, making all kinds of observations about 
 gypsies ; but as we walked at a great pace, we 
 gradually left them behind, and at last lost sight 
 of them. Mrs. Petulengro and Tawno Chikno 
 walked together, even as they had come ; whilst 
 Mr. Petulengro and myself followed at a little 
 distance. 
 
108 THE EOMANY RYE. [Ch. IX. 
 
 " That was a very fine preacher we heard/' 
 said I to Mr. Petulengro, after we had crossed 
 the stile into the fields. 
 
 "Very fine, indeed, brother/' said Mr. Petu- 
 lengro ; " he is talked of, far and wide, for his 
 sermons ; folks say that there is scarcely another 
 like him in the whole of England." 
 
 " He looks rather melancholy, Jasper." 
 
 " He lost his wife several years ago, who, they 
 say, was one of the most beautiful women ever 
 seen. They say that it was grief for her loss 
 that made him come out mighty strong as a 
 preacher ; for, though he was a clergyman, he 
 was never heard of in the pulpit before he lost 
 his wife ; since then, the whole country has rung 
 with the preaching of the clergyman of M .... 
 as they call him. Those two nice young gentle- 
 women, whom you saw with the female childer, 
 are his daughters." 
 
 " You seem to know all about him, Jasper. 
 Did you ever hear him preach before ?" 
 
 " Never, brother ; but he has frequently been 
 to our tent, and his daughters too, and given us 
 tracts ; for he is one of the people they call 
 Evangelicals, who give folks tracts which they 
 cannot read." 
 
 " You should learn to read, Jasper." 
 
Ch. IX.] THE ROMANY EYE. 109 
 
 " We have no time, brother/' 
 
 " Are you not frequently idle ?" 
 
 " Never, brother ; when we are not engaged 
 in our traffic, we are engaged in taking our re- 
 laxation : so we have no time to learn." 
 
 " You really should make an effort. If you 
 were disposed to learn to read, I would endeavour 
 to assist you. You would be all the better for 
 knowing how to read." 
 
 "In what way, brother?" 
 
 " Why, you could read the Scriptures, and, by 
 so doing, learn your duty towards your fellow- 
 creatures/' 
 
 " We know that already, brother ; the con- 
 stables and justices have contrived to knock 
 that tolerably into our heads/' 
 
 " Yet you frequently break the laws/' 
 
 " So, I believe, do now and then those who 
 know how to read, brother/' 
 
 " Very true, Jasper ; but you really ought to 
 learn to read, as, by so doing, you might learn 
 your duty towards yourselves : and your chief 
 duty is to take care of your own souls ; did not 
 the preacher say, 'In what is a man profited, 
 provided he gain the whole world ? ' ' 
 
 " We have not much of the world, brother." 
 
 " Very little indeed, Jasper. Did you not 
 
110 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. IX. 
 
 observe how the eyes of the whole congregation 
 were turned towards our pew, when the preacher 
 said, * There are some people who lose their 
 souls, and get nothing in exchange; who are 
 outcast, despised, and miserable ?' Now, was 
 not what he said quite applicable to the 
 gypsies?" 
 
 "We are not miserable, brother." 
 
 " Well, then, you ought to be, Jasper. Have 
 you an inch of ground of your own ? Are you 
 of the least use ? Are you not spoken ill of by 
 everybody ? What 's a gypsy ?" 
 
 " What 's the bird noising yonder, brother ?" 
 
 " The bird ! Oh, that 's the cuckoo tolling; but 
 what has the cuckoo to do with the matter?" 
 
 " We '11 see, brother ; what 's the cuckoo ?" 
 
 " What is it ? you know as much about it as 
 myself, Jasper/' 
 
 "Isn't it a kind of roguish, chaffing bird, 
 brother ?" 
 
 " I believe it is, Jasper." 
 
 " Nobody knows whence it comes, brother ?" 
 
 " I believe not, Jasper." 
 
 " Very poor, brother, not a nest of its own ? " 
 
 " So they say, Jasper." 
 
 " With every person's bad word, brother?" 
 
 "Yes, Jasper, every person is mocking it." 
 
Ch. IX.] THE ROMANY RYE. Ill 
 
 " Tolerably merry, brother?" 
 
 " Yes, tolerably merry, Jasper." 
 
 " Of no use at all, brother ?" 
 
 " None whatever, Jasper." 
 
 " You would be glad to get rid of the cuckoos, 
 brother?" 
 
 " Why, not exactly Jasper ; the cuckoo is a 
 pleasant, funny bird, and its presence and voice 
 give a great charm to the green trees and fields; 
 no I can't say I wish exactly to get rid of the 
 cuckoo/' 
 
 " Well, brother, what 's a Romany chal ?" 
 
 "You must answer that question yourself, 
 Jasper." 
 
 " A roguish, chaffing fellow, a'n't he, brother ?" 
 
 " Ay, ay, Jasper." 
 
 " Of no use at all, brother ?" 
 
 "Just so, Jasper; I see ... ." 
 
 "Something very much like a cuckoo, 
 brother?" 
 
 " I see what you are after, Jasper." 
 
 " You would like to get rid of us, wouldn't 
 you?" 
 
 " Why, no, not exactly." 
 
 " We are no ornament to the green lanes in 
 spring and summer time, are we, brother ? and 
 
112 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. IX. 
 
 the voices of our chies, with their cukkerin and 
 dukkerin, don't help to make them pleasant ? " 
 
 " I see what you are at, Jasper/' 
 
 "You would wish to turn the cuckoos into 
 barn-door fowls, wouldn't you?" 
 
 " Can't say I should, Jasper, whatever some 
 people might wish." 
 
 " And the chals and chies into radical 
 weavers and factory wenches, hey, brother ? " 
 
 " Can't say that I should, Jasper. You are 
 certainly a picturesque people, and in many re- 
 spects an ornament both to town and country; 
 painting and lil writing too are under great 
 obligations to you. What pretty pictures are 
 made out of your campings and groupings, and 
 what pretty books have been written in which 
 gypsies, or at least creatures intended to repre- 
 sent gypsies, have been the principal figures. 
 I think if we were without you, we should begin 
 to miss you." 
 
 " Just as you would the cuckoos, if they were 
 all converted into barn-door fowls. I tell you 
 what, brother, frequently as I have sat under a 
 hedge in spring or summer time, and heard the 
 cuckoo, I have thought that we chals and 
 cuckoos are alike in many respects, but espe- 
 
Ch. IX.] THE ROMANY RYE. 113 
 
 cially in character. Everybody speaks ill of us 
 both, and everybody is glad to see both of us 
 again/' 
 
 " Yes, Jasper, but there is some difference 
 between men and cuckoos ; men have souls, 
 Jasper !" 
 
 " And why not cuckoos, brother ?" 
 
 " You should not talk so, Jasper ; what you 
 say is little short of blasphemy. How should a 
 bird have a soul ? " 
 
 " And how should a man ? " 
 
 " Oh, we know very well that a man has a 
 soul." 
 
 " How do you know it ? " 
 
 " We know very well." 
 
 " Would you take your oath of it, brother 
 your bodily oath ?" 
 
 " Why, I think I might, Jasper 1" 
 
 " Did you ever see the soul, brother ? " 
 
 " No, I never saw it." 
 
 " Then how could you swear to it ? A 
 pretty figure you would make in a court of 
 justice, to swear to a thing which you never saw. 
 Hold up your head, fellow. When and where 
 did you see it ? Now upon your oath, fellow, 
 do you mean to say that this Roman stole the 
 donkey's foal ? Oh, there 's no one for cross- 
 
114 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. IX. 
 
 questioning like Counsellor P . . . . Our people 
 when they are in a hobble always like to employ 
 him, though he is somewhat dear. Now, brother, 
 how can you get over the 'upon your oath, 
 fellow, will you say that you have a soul ?'" 
 
 " Well, we will take no oaths on the subject ; 
 but you yourself believe in the soul. I have 
 heard you say that you believe in dukkerin ; 
 now what is dukkerin but the soul science V 
 
 " When did I say that I believed in it ?" 
 
 " Why, after that fight, when you pointed to 
 the bloody mark in the cloud, whilst he you wot 
 of was galloping in the barouche to the old 
 town, amidst the rain-cataracts, the thunder, and 
 flame of heaven." 
 
 " I have some kind of remembrance of it, 
 brother." 
 
 " Then, again, I heard you say that the dook 
 of Abershaw rode every night on horseback 
 down the wooded hill." 
 
 " I say, brother, what a wonderful memory 
 you have ! " 
 
 " I wish I had not, Jasper, but I can't help it, 
 it is my misfortune." 
 
 " Misfortune ! well, perhaps it is ; at any 
 rate it is very ungenteel to have such a memory. 
 I have heard my wife say that to show you 
 
Oh. IX.] THE KOMANY RYE. 115 
 
 have a long memory looks very vulgar ; and 
 that you can't give a greater proof of gentility 
 than by forgetting a thing as soon as possible 
 more especially a promise, or an acquaintance 
 when he happens to be shabby. Well, brother, 
 I don't deny that I may have said that I believe 
 in dukkerin, and in Abershaw's dook, which 
 you say is his soul ; but what I believe one 
 moment, or say I believe, don't be certain that I 
 shall believe the next, or say I do." 
 
 " Indeed, Jasper, I heard you say on a pre- 
 vious occasion, on quoting a piece of a song, that 
 when a man dies he is cast into the earth, and 
 there 's an end of him." 
 
 " I did, did I ? Lor' what a memory you 
 have, brother. But you are not sure that I hold 
 that opinion now." 
 
 " Certainly not, Jasper. Indeed, after such 
 a sermon as we have been hearing, I should be 
 veiy shocked if you held such an opinion." 
 
 " However, brother, don't be sure I do not, 
 however shocking such an opinion may be to 
 you." 
 
 " What an incomprehensible people you are, 
 Jasper." 
 
 " We are rather so, brother ; indeed, we have 
 posed wiser heads than yours before now." 
 
116 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. IX. 
 
 " You seem to care for so little, and yet you 
 rove about a distinct race." 
 
 " I say, brother ! " 
 
 " Yes, Jasper/' 
 
 " What do you think of our women V 
 
 "They have certainly veiy singular names, 
 Jasper." 
 
 " Names ! Lavengro ! However, brother, if 
 you had been as fond of things as of names, you 
 would never have been a pal of ours." 
 
 " What do you mean, Jasper ?" 
 
 " AVt they rum animals ?" 
 
 " They have tongues of their own, Jasper." 
 
 " Did you ever feel their teeth and nails, 
 brother?" 
 
 " Never, Jasper, save Mrs. Herne's. I have 
 always been very civil to them, so . . . ." 
 
 " They let you alone. I say, brother, some 
 part of the secret is in them." 
 
 " They seem rather nighty, Jasper." 
 
 "Ay, ay, brother!" 
 
 " Bather fond of loose discourse ! " 
 
 " Rather so, brother/' 
 
 " Can you always trust them, Jasper ? " 
 
 " We never watch them, brother." 
 
 " Can they always trust you ?" 
 
 " Not quite so well as we can them. How- 
 
Ch. IX.] THE ROMANY EYE. 117 
 
 ever, we get on very well together, except Mi- 
 kailia and her husband ; but Mikailia is a 
 cripple, and is married to the beauty of the 
 world, so she may be expected to be jea- 
 lous though he would not part with her for a 
 duchess, no more than I would part with my 
 rawnie, nor any other chal with his." 
 
 " Ay, but would not the chi part with the 
 chal for a duke, Jasper ?" 
 
 " My Pakomovna gave up the duke for me, 
 brother." 
 
 " But she occasionally talks of him, Jasper." 
 
 " Yes, brother, but Pakomovna was born on 
 a common not far from the sign of the gam- 
 mon." 
 
 " Gammon of bacon, I suppose." 
 
 " Yes, brother ; but gammon likewise means 
 
 
 " I know it does, Jasper ; it means fun, ridi- 
 cule, jest ; it is an ancient Norse word, and is 
 found in the Edda." 
 
 " Lor, brother ! how learned in lils you are ! " 
 " Many words of Norse are to be found in our 
 vulgar sayings, Jasper ; for example in that 
 particularly vulgar saying of ours, ' Your mother 
 is up/ there 's a noble Norse word ; mother, 
 there, meaning not the female who bore us, but 
 
THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. IX. 
 
 rage and choler, as I discovered by reading the 
 Sagas, Jasper/' 
 
 " Lor, brother ! how book-learned you be/' 
 
 " Indifferently so, Jasper. Then you think 
 you might trust your wife with the duke ?" 
 
 "I think I could, brother, or even with 
 yourself/' 
 
 " Myself, Jasper ! Oh, I never troubled my 
 head about your wife ; but I suppose there have 
 been love affairs between gorgios and Romany 
 dries. Why novels are stuffed with such mat- 
 ters ; and then even one of your own songs says 
 so the song which Ursula was singing the other 
 afternoon." 
 
 " That is somewhat of an old song, brother, 
 and is sung by the dries as a warning at 
 our solemn festivals/' 
 
 " Well ! but there 's your sister-in-law, Ursula, 
 herself, Jasper/' 
 
 " Ursula, herself, brother ?" 
 
 " You were talking of my having her, Jasper." 
 
 " Well, brother, why didn't you have her ?" 
 
 " Would she have had me ?" 
 
 " Of course, brother. You are so much of a Ro- 
 man, and speak Romany so remarkably well." 
 
 " Poor thing ! she looks very innocent ! " 
 
 " Remarkably so, brother ! however, though 
 
Ch. IX.] THE ROMANY RYE. 119 
 
 not born on the same common with my wife, she 
 knows a thing or two of Roman matters." 
 
 " I should like to ask her a question or two, 
 Jasper, in connection with that song/' 
 
 "You can do no better, brother. Here we 
 are at the camp. After tea, take Ursula under 
 a hedge, and ask her a question or two in con- 
 nection with that song/' 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 SUNDAY EVENING. URSULA. ACTION AT LAW. MERIDIANA. 
 
 MARRIED ALREADY. 
 
 I TOOK tea that evening with Mr. and Mrs. 
 Petulengro and Ursula, outside of their tent. 
 Tawno was not present, being engaged with his 
 wife in his own tabernacle ; Sylvester was there, 
 however, lolling listlessly upon the ground. As 
 I looked upon this man, I thought him one 
 of the most disagreeable fellows I had ever seen. 
 His features were ugly, and, moreover, as dark 
 as pepper ; and, besides being dark, his skin was 
 dirty. As for his dress, it was torn and sordid. 
 His chest was broad, and his arms seemed pow- 
 erful ; but, upon the whole, he looked a very 
 caitiff. " I am sorry that man has lost his wife," 
 thought I ; " for I am sure he will never get 
 another." What surprises me is, that he ever 
 found a woman disposed to unite her lot 
 with his ! 
 
 After tea I got up and strolled about the 
 
Ch. X.] THE ROMANY RYE. 121 
 
 field. My thoughts were upon Isopel Berners. 
 I wondered where she was, and how long she 
 would stay away. At length becoming tired 
 and listless, I determined to return to the dingle, 
 and resume the reading of the Bible at the place 
 where I had left off. " What better could I do," 
 methought, " on a Sunday evening?" I was then 
 near the wood which surrounded the dingle, but 
 at that side which was farthest from the encamp- 
 ment, which stood near the entrance. Suddenly, 
 on turning round the southern corner of the 
 copse, which surrounded the dingle, I perceived 
 Ursula seated under a thorn-bush. I thought 
 I never saw her look prettier than then, dressed 
 as she was, in her Sunday's best. 
 
 " Good evening, Ursula," said I ; " I little 
 thought to have the pleasure of seeing you 
 here." 
 
 " Nor would you, brother," said Ursula, " had 
 not Jasper told me that you had been talking 
 about me, and wanted to speak to me under a 
 hedge ; so, hearing that, I watched your motions, 
 and came here and sat down." 
 
 " I was thinking of going to my quarters in 
 the dingle, to read the Bible, Ursula, but . ..." 
 
 " Oh, pray then, go to your quarters, brother, 
 VOL. I. G 
 
122 THE ROMANY EYE. [Ch. X. 
 
 and read the Miduveleskoe lil ; you can speak 
 to me under a hedge some other time." 
 
 " I think I will sit down with you, Ursula ; 
 for, after all, reading godly books in dingles at 
 eve, is rather sombre work. Yes, I think I will 
 sit down with you ;" and I sat down by her 
 side. 
 
 " Well, brother, now you have sat down with 
 me under the hedge, what have you to say to 
 me r 
 
 " Why, I hardly know, Ursula." 
 
 " Not know, brother ; a pretty fellow you 
 to ask young women to come and sit with you 
 under hedges, and, when they come, not know 
 what to say to them/' 
 
 " Oh ! ah ! I remember ; do you know, Ur- 
 sula, that I take a great interest in you T 
 
 " Thank ye, brother ; kind of you, at any 
 rate/' 
 
 " You must be exposed to a great many 
 temptations, Ursula." 
 
 " A great many indeed, brother. It is hard 
 to see fine things, such as shawls, gold watches, 
 and chains in the shops, behind the big glasses, 
 and to know that they are not intended for one. 
 Many 's the time I have been tempted to make 
 
Ch. X.] THE ROMANY RYE. 123 
 
 a dash at them ; but I bethought myself that by 
 so doing I should cut my hands, besides being 
 almost certain of being grabbed and sent across 
 the gull's bath to the foreign country/' 
 
 " Then you think gold and fine things tempta- 
 tions, Ursula?" 
 
 " Of course, brother, very great temptations ; 
 don't you think them so 1" 
 
 " Can't say I do, Ursula." 
 
 " Then more fool you, brother ; but have the 
 kindness to tell me what you would call a 
 temptation?" 
 
 " Why, for example, the hope of honour and 
 renown, Ursula/' 
 
 " The hope of honour and renown ! very good, 
 brother ; but I tell you one thing, that unless 
 you have money in your pocket, and good broad- 
 cloth on your back, you are not likely to ob- 
 tain much honour and what do you call it? 
 amongst the gorgios, to say nothing of the 
 Romany chals/' 
 
 " I should have thought, Ursula, that the Ro- 
 many chals, roaming about the world as they do, 
 free and independent, were above being led by 
 such trifles/' 
 
 "Then you know nothing of the gypsies, 
 brother ; no people on earth are fonder of those 
 
 G 2 
 
124 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. X. 
 
 trifles, as you call them, than the Romany 
 chals, and more disposed to respect those who 
 have them." 
 
 "Then money and fine clothes would induce 
 you to do anything, Ursula ?" 
 
 " Ay, ay, brother, anything." 
 
 "To chore, Ursula?" 
 
 " Like enough, brother ; gypsies have been 
 transported before now for choring." 
 
 "To hokkawar?" 
 
 " Ay, ay ; I was telling dukkerin only yes- 
 terday, brother." 
 
 "In fact, to break the law in everything?" 
 
 "Who knows, brother, who knows? as I said 
 before, gold and fine clothes are great tempta- 
 tions." 
 
 "Well, Ursula, I am sorry for it, I should 
 never have thought you so depraved." ^ 
 
 " Indeed, brother." 
 
 "To think that I am seated by one who is 
 willing to to . . . ." 
 
 " Go on, brother." 
 
 " To play the thief." 
 
 " Go on, brother." 
 
 The liar." ^ 
 
 " Go on, brother." 
 
 "The the . 
 
Ch. X.] THE ROMANY RYE. 125 
 
 " Go on, brother." 
 
 " The the lubbeny." 
 
 - " The what, brother ?" said Ursula, starting 
 from her seat. 
 
 " Why, the lubbeny ; don't you ... ." 
 
 " I tell you what, brother/' said Ursula, look- 
 ing somewhat pale, and speaking very low, 
 " if I had only something in my hand, I would 
 do you a mischief." 
 
 " Why, what is the matter, Ursula?" said I ; 
 " how have I offended you?" 
 
 " How have you offended me ? Why, didn't 
 you insinivate just now that I was ready to 
 play the the . . . ." 
 
 " Go on, Ursula." 
 
 "The the .... I'll not say it; but I 
 only wish I had something in my hand." 
 
 " If I have offended, Ursula, I am very sorry 
 for it ; any offence I may have given you was 
 from want of understanding you. Come, pray 
 be seated, I have much to question you about 
 to talk to you about." 
 
 " Seated, not I ! It was only just now that 
 you gave me to understand that you was ashamed 
 to be seated by me, a thief, a liar." 
 
 " Well, did you not almost give me to under- 
 stand that you were both, Ursula?" 
 
126 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. X. 
 
 " I don't much care being called a thief and a 
 liar," said Ursula, "a person may be a liar 
 and a thief, and yet a very honest woman, 
 but ... ." 
 
 " Well, Ursula." 
 
 " I tell you what, brother, if you ever sini- 
 vate again that I could be the third thing, so 
 help me duvel ! 1 11 do you a mischief. By my 
 God I will!" 
 
 " Well, Ursula, I assure you that I shall sini- 
 vate, as you call it, nothing of the kind about 
 you. I have no doubt, from what you have 
 said, that you are a very paragon of virtue a 
 perfect Lucretia ; but . . . . ' 
 
 " My name is Ursula, brother, and not 
 Lucretia : Lucretia is not of our family, but one 
 of the Bucklands ; she travels about Oxfordshire ; 
 yet I am as good as she any day." 
 
 " Lucretia ! how odd ! Where could she have 
 got that name ? Well, I make no doubt, Ursula, 
 that you are quite as good as she, and she as her 
 namesake of ancient Rome ; but there is a mys- 
 tery in this same virtue, Ursula, which I cannot 
 fathom ; how a thief and a liar should be able, 
 or indeed willing, to preserve her virtue is what 
 I don't understand. You confess that you are 
 very fond of gold. Now, how is it that you 
 
Ch. X.] THE ROMANY RYE. 127 
 
 don't barter your virtue for gold sometimes ? 
 I am a philosopher, Ursula, and like to know 
 everything. You must be every now and then 
 exposed to great temptation, Ursula ; for you are 
 of a beauty calculated to captivate all hearts. 
 Come, sit down and tell me how you are enabled 
 to resist such a temptation as gold and fine 
 clothes?" 
 
 " Well, brother," said Ursula, " as you say 
 you mean no harm, I will sit down beside you, 
 and enter into discourse with you ; but I will 
 uphold that you are the coolest hand that I ever 
 came nigh, and say the coolest things." 
 
 And thereupon Ursula sat down by my side. 
 
 " Well, Ursula, we will, if you please, dis- 
 course on the subject of your temptations. I 
 suppose that you travel very much about, and 
 show yourself in all kinds of places ?" 
 
 " In all kinds, brother ; I travels, as you say, 
 very much about, attends fairs and races, and 
 enters booths and public-houses, where I tells 
 fortunes, and sometimes dances and sings." 
 
 " And do not people often address you in a 
 very free manner ?" 
 
 " Frequently, brother ; and I give them tole- 
 rably free answers." 
 
128 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. X. 
 
 " Do people ever offer to make you presents ? 
 I mean presents of value, such as . . . . ' 
 
 " Silk handkerchiefs, shawls, and trinkets; 
 very frequently, brother/' 
 
 " And what do you do, Ursula ?" 
 
 " I take what people offers me, brother, and 
 stows it away as soon as I can/' 
 
 " Well, but don't people expect something for 
 their presents ? I don't mean dukkerin, dancing, 
 and the like ; but such a moderate and inno- 
 cent thing as a choomer, Ursula ?" 
 
 " Innocent thing, do you call it, brother ?" 
 
 " The world calls it so, Ursula. Well, do the 
 people who give you the fine things never expect 
 a choomer in return ?" 
 
 " Very frequently, brother." 
 
 " And do you ever grant it ?" 
 
 " Never, brother." 
 
 " How do you avoid it?" 
 
 " I gets away as soon as possible, brother. 
 If they follows me, I tries to baffle them, by 
 means of jests and laughter ; and if they persist, 
 I uses bad and terrible language, of which I have 
 plenty in store." 
 
 " But if your terrible language has no 
 effect?" 
 
Ch. X.] THE ROMANY RYE. 129 
 
 " Then I screams for the constable, and if he 
 comes not, I uses my teeth and nails." 
 
 " And are they always sufficient ? " 
 
 " I have only had to use them twice, brother ; 
 but then I found them sufficient." 
 
 " But suppose the person who followed you 
 was highly agreeable, Ursula ? A haiidsome 
 young officer -of local militia, for example, all 
 dressed in Lincoln green, would you still refuse 
 him the choomer ?" 
 
 " We makes no difference, brother ; the 
 daughters of the gypsy-father makes no dif- 
 ference ; and, what's more, sees none." 
 
 " Well, Ursula, the world will hardly give you 
 credit for such indifference." 
 
 " What cares we for the world, brother ! we 
 are not of the w T orld." 
 
 " But your fathers, brothers, and uncles, give 
 you credit I suppose, Ursula/' 
 
 " Ay, ay, brother, our fathers, brothers, and 
 cokos gives us all manner of credit ; for example, 
 I am telling lies and dukkerin in a public-house 
 where my batu or coko perhaps both are play- 
 ing on the fiddle ; well, my batu and my coko 
 beholds me amongst the public-house crew, 
 talking nonsense and hearing nonsense ; but 
 they are under no apprehension ; and presently 
 
 G 3 
 
130 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. X. 
 
 they sees the good-looking officer of militia, in 
 his greens and Lincolns, get up and give me a 
 wink, and I go out with him abroad, into the 
 dark night perhaps ; well, my batu and my coko 
 goes on fiddling, just as if I were six miles off 
 asleep in the tent, and not out in the dark street 
 with the local officer, with his Lincolns and his 
 greens." 
 
 " They know they can trust you, Ursula ?" 
 
 " Ay, ay, brother; and, what's more, I 
 knows I can trust myself 
 
 " So you would merely go out to make a fool 
 of him, Ursula ?" 
 
 " Merely go out to make a fool of him, bro- 
 ther, I assure you." 
 
 " But such proceedings really have an odd 
 look, Ursula/' 
 
 " Amongst gorgios, very so, brother/' 
 
 " Well, it must be rather unpleasant to lose 
 one's character even amongst gorgios, Ursula ; 
 and suppose the officer, out of revenge for being- 
 tricked and duped by you, were to say of you 
 the thing that is not, were to meet you on the 
 race-course the next day, and boast of receiving 
 favours which he never had, amidst a knot of 
 jeering militia-men, how would you proceed, 
 Ursula? would you not be abashed?" 
 
Ch. X.] THE ROMANY EYE. 131 
 
 " By no means, brother ; I should bring my 
 action of law against him." 
 
 " Your action at law, Ursula?" 
 " Yes, brother ; I should give a whistle, 
 whereupon all one's cokos and batus, and all my 
 near and distant relations, would leave their 
 fiddling, dukkerin, and horse-dealing, and come 
 flocking about me. ' What 's the matter, Ur- 
 sula?' says my coko. 'Nothing at all I re- 
 plies, save and except that gorgio, in his greens 
 and his Lincolns, says that I have played the 
 .... with him/ ' Oho, he does, Ursula/ 
 says my coko, ' try your action of law against 
 him, my lamb/ and he puts something privily 
 into my hands ; whereupon I goes close up to 
 the grinning gorgio, and staring him in the face, 
 with my head pushed forward, I cries out : 
 ' You say I did what was wrong with you last 
 night when I was out with you abroad ?' ' Yes/ 
 says the local officer, 'I says you did/ looking 
 down all the time. * You are a liar/ says I, 
 and forthwith I breaks his head with the stick 
 which I holds behind me, and which my coko 
 has conveyed privily into my hand." 
 
 " And this is your action at law, Ursula?" 
 "Yes, brother, this is my action at club-law." 
 " And would your breaking the fellow's head 
 
132 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. X. 
 
 quite clear you of all suspicion in the eyes of 
 your batus, cokos, and what not?" 
 
 " They would never suspect me at all, bro- 
 ther, because they would know that I would 
 never condescend to be over intimate with a 
 gorgio ; the breaking the head would be merely- 
 intended to justify Ursula in the eyes of the 
 gorgios." 
 
 " And would it clear you in their eyes ?" 
 
 " Would it not, brother ? When they saw 
 the blood running down from the fellow's cracked 
 poll on his greens and Lincolns, they would be 
 quite satisfied; why the fellow would not be able 
 to show his face at fair or merry-making for a 
 year and three quarters/' 
 
 " Did you ever try it, Ursula ?" 
 
 " Can't say I ever did, brother, but it would 
 do." 
 
 " And how did you ever learn such a method 
 of proceeding?" 
 
 " Why 't is advised by gypsy liri, brother. 
 It 's part of our way of settling difficulties 
 amongst ourselves ; for example, if a young 
 Roman were to say the thing which is not re- 
 specting Ursula and himself, Ursula would call a 
 great meeting of the people, who would all sit 
 down in a ring, the young fellow amongst them ; 
 
Ch. X.] THE ROMANY RYE. 133 
 
 a coko would then put a stick in Ursula's hand, 
 who would then get up and go to the young 
 fellow, and say, ' Did I play the .... with 
 you?' and were he to say 'Yes,' she would 
 crack his head before the eyes of all." 
 
 " Well/' said I, " Ursula, I was bred an ap- 
 prentice to gorgio law, and of course ought to 
 stand up for it, whenever I conscientiously can, 
 but I must say the gypsy manner of bringing 
 an action for defamation is much less tedious, 
 and far more satisfactory, than the gorgiko one. 
 I wish you now to clear up a certain point 
 which is rather mysterious to me. You say 
 that for a .Romany chi to do what is unseemly 
 with a gorgio is quite out of the question, yet 
 only the other day I heard you singing a song 
 in, which a Romany chi confesses herself to be 
 cambri by a grand gorgious gentleman." 
 
 " A sad let down," said Ursula. 
 
 " Well," said I, " sad or not, there 's the song 
 that speaks of the thing, which you give me to 
 understand is not." 
 
 " Well, if the thing ever was," said Ursula, 
 " it was a long time ago, and perhaps, after all, 
 not true." 
 
 " Then why do you sing the song?" 
 
 " I '11 tell you, brother; we sings the song now 
 
THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. X. 
 
 and then to be a warning to ourselves to have 
 as little to do as possible in the way of acquaint- 
 ance with the gorgios; and a warning it is; you 
 see how the young woman in the song was 
 driven out of her tent by her mother, with all 
 kind of disgrace and bad language ; but you 
 don't know that she was afterwards buried alive 
 by her cokos and pals, in an uninhabited place ; 
 the song doesn't say it, but the story says it, for 
 there is a story about it, though, as I said before, 
 it was a long time ago, and perhaps, after all, 
 wasn't true." 
 
 " But if such a thing were to happen at 
 present, would the cokos and pals bury the girl 
 alive ?" 
 
 " I can 'i say what they would do/' said Ur- 
 sula ; " I suppose they are not so strict as they 
 were long ago ; at any rate, she would be driven 
 from the tan, and avoided by all her family and 
 relations as a gorgio's acquaintance ; so that, 
 perhaps, at last, she would be glad if they would 
 bury her alive." 
 
 " Well, I can conceive that there would be an 
 objection on the part of the cokos and batus that 
 a Romany chi should form an improper ac- 
 quaintance with a gorgio, but I should think 
 that the batus and cokos could hardly object to 
 
Ch. X.] THE ROMANY EYE. 135 
 
 the chi's entering into the honourable estate of 
 wedlock with a gorgio/' 
 
 Ursula was silent. 
 
 " Marriage is an honourable estate, Ursula/' 
 
 " Well, brother, suppose it be?" 
 
 " I don't see why a Romany chi should object 
 to enter into the honourable estate of wedlock 
 with a gorgio." 
 
 "You don't, brother ; don't you ?" 
 
 " x No," said I, " and, moreover, I am aware, 
 notwithstanding your evasion, Ursula, that mar- 
 riages and connections now and then occur be- 
 tween gorgios arid Romany chies ; the result of 
 which is the mixed breed, called half and half, 
 which is at present travelling about England, and 
 to which the Flaming Tinman belongs, otherwise 
 called Anselo Herne." 
 
 " As for the half and halfs," said Ursula, 
 " they are a bad set ; and there is not a worse 
 blackguard in England than Anselo Herne." 
 
 " All what you say may be very true, Ursula, 
 but you admit that there are half and halfs." 
 
 " The more 's the pity, brother." 
 
 " Pity, or not, you admit the fact ; but how 
 do you account for it ? " 
 
 " How do I account for it ? why, I will tell 
 you, by the break up of a Roman family, 
 
136 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. X. 
 
 brother the father of a small family dies, and, 
 perhaps, the mother ; and the poor children are 
 left behind ; sometimes, they are gathered up by 
 their relations, and sometimes, if they have 
 none, by charitable Romans, who bring them up 
 in the observance of gypsy law ; but sometimes 
 they are not so lucky, and falls into the company 
 of gorgios, trampers, and basket-makers, who live 
 in caravans, with whom they take up, and 
 so .... I hate to talk of the matter, brother ; 
 but so comes this race of the half and halfs." 
 
 " Then you mean to say, Ursula, that no 
 Romany chi, unless compelled by hard neces- 
 sity, would have anything to do with a gorgio." 
 
 "We are not over fond of gorgios, brother, 
 and we hates basket-makers, and folks that live 
 in caravans." 
 
 " Well/' said I, " suppose a gorgio, who is not 
 a basket-maker, a fine handsome gorgious gen- 
 tleman, who lives in a fine house . . . /' 
 
 " We are not fond of houses, brother ; I 
 never slept in a house in my life/' 
 
 " But would not plenty of money induce 
 you ?" 
 
 " I hate houses, brother, and those who live in 
 them." 
 
 " Well, suppose such a person were willing to 
 
Ch. X.] THE ROMANY RYE. 137 
 
 resign his fine house ; and, for love of you, to 
 adopt gypsy law, speak Romany, and live in a 
 tan, would you have nothing to say to him?" 
 
 " Bringing plenty of money with him, 
 brother?" 
 
 " Well, bringing plenty of money with him, 
 Ursula." 
 
 "Well, brother, suppose you produce your 
 man ; where is he ?" 
 
 " I was merely supposing such a person, 
 Ursula." 
 
 " Then you don't know of such a person, 
 brother?" 
 
 " Why, no, Ursula ; why do you ask ?" 
 
 " Because, brother, I was almost beginning to 
 think that you meant yourself." 
 
 "Myself! Ursula; I have no fine house to 
 resign ; nor have I money. Moreover, Ursula, 
 though I have a great regard for you, and 
 though I consider you very handsome, quite as 
 handsome, indeed, as Meridiana in ... ." 
 
 " Meridiana ! where did you meet with her ?" 
 said Ursula, with a toss of her head. 
 
 " Why in old Pulci's . . . ." 
 
 " At old Fulcher's ! that 's not true, brother. 
 Meridiana is a Borzlam, and travels with her 
 
138 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. X. 
 
 own people, and not with old Fulcher, who is a 
 gorgio, and a basket-maker/' 
 
 "I was not speaking of old Fulcher, but 
 Pulci, a great Italian writer, who lived many 
 hundred years ago, and who, in his poem called 
 the ' Morgan te Maggiore/ speaks of Meridiana, 
 the daughter of ... ." 
 
 "Old Cams Borzlam," said Ursula; " but 
 if the fellow you mention lived so many hundred 
 years ago, how, in the name of wonder, could he 
 know anything of Meridiana?" 
 
 " The wonder, Ursula, is, how your people 
 could ever have got hold of that name, and simi- 
 lar ones. The Meridiana of Pulci was not the 
 daughter of old Carus Borzlam, but of Caradoro, 
 a great pagan king of the East, who, being be- 
 sieged in his capital by Manfredonio, another 
 mighty pagan king, who wished to obtain pos- 
 session of his daughter, who had refused him, 
 was relieved in his distress by certain paladins 
 of Charlemagne, with one of whom, Oliver, his 
 daughter Meridiana fell in love/' 
 
 " I see/' said Ursula, " that it must have been 
 altogether a different person, for I am sure that 
 Meridiana Borzlam would never have fallen in 
 love with Oliver. Oliver ! why that is the 
 
Ch. X.] THE EOMANY EYE. 139 
 
 name of the curo-mengro, who lost the fight 
 near the chong gav, the day of the great tem- 
 pest, when I got wet through. No, no ! Me- 
 ridiana Borzlam would never have so far forgot 
 her blood as to take up with Tom Oliver." 
 
 " I was not talking of that Oliver, Ursula, 
 but of Oliver, peer of France, and paladin of 
 Charlemagne, with whom Meridiana, daughter 
 of Caradoro, fell in love, and for whose sake 
 she renounced her religion and became a Chris- 
 tian, and finally ingravidata, or cambri, by 
 him :- 
 
 ' E nacquene un figliuol, dice la storia, 
 Che dette a Carlo-man poi gran vittoria :' 
 
 which means . . . ." 
 
 " I don't want to know what it means/' said 
 Ursula ; " no good, I 'm sure. Well, if the 
 Meridiana of Charles's wain's pal was no hand- 
 somer than Meridiana Borzlam, she was no 
 great catch, brother ; for though I am by no 
 means given to vanity, I think myself better to 
 look at than she, though I will say she is no 
 lubbeny, and would scorn . . . ." 
 
 " I make no doubt she would, Ursula, and I 
 make no doubt that you are much handsomer 
 than she, or even the Meridiana of Oliver. 
 
140 THE ROMANY KYE. [Ch. X. 
 
 What I was about to say, before you inter- 
 rupted me, is this, that though I have a great 
 regard for you, and highly admire you, it is only 
 in a brotherly way, and . . . /' 
 
 " And you had nothing better to say to 
 me," said Ursula, " when you wanted to talk 
 to me beneath a hedge, than that you liked me 
 in a brotherly way ! well, I declare . . . ." 
 
 " You seem disappointed, Ursula/' 
 
 <l Disappointed, brother ! not I." 
 
 " You were just now saying that you dis- 
 liked gorgios, so, of course, could only wish that 
 I, who am a gorgio, should like you in a 
 brotherly way ; I wished to have a conversation 
 with you beneath a hedge, but only with the 
 view of procuring from you some information 
 respecting the song which you sung the other 
 day, and the conduct of Roman females, which 
 has always struck me as being highly unaccount- 
 able, so, if you thought anything else . y . ." 
 
 " What else should I expect from a picker-up 
 of old words, brother ? Bah ! I dislike a picke'r- 
 up of old words worse than a picker-up of old 
 rags." 
 
 " Don't be angry, Ursula, I feel a great in- 
 terest in you ; you are very handsome, and very 
 clever ; indeed, with your beauty and clever- 
 
Ch. X.] THE ROMANY RYE. 141 
 
 ness, I only wonder that you have not long 
 since been married/' 
 
 " You do, do you, brother?" 
 
 " Yes. However, keep up your spirits, Ur- 
 sula, you are not much past the prime of youth, 
 so ... ." 
 
 "Not much past tire prime of youth ! Don't 
 be uncivil, brother, I was only twenty-two last 
 month." 
 
 " Don't be offended, Ursula, but twenty-two 
 is twenty-two, or, I should rather say, that 
 twenty-two in a woman is more than twenty-six 
 in a man. You are still very beautiful, but I 
 advise you to accept the first offer that 's made 
 to you." 
 
 " Thank you, brother, but your advice comes 
 rather late ; I accepted the first offer that was 
 made me five years ago." 
 
 " You married five years ago, Ursula ! is it 
 possible?" 
 
 " Quite possible, brother, I assure you." 
 
 " And how came I to know nothing about 
 it?" 
 
 " How comes it that you don't know many 
 thousand things about the Romans, brother ? 
 Do you think they tell you all their affairs ? " 
 
 " Married, Ursula, married ! well, I declare !" 
 
142 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. X. 
 
 " You seem disappointed, brother/' 
 
 " Disappointed ! Oh ! no, not at all ; but 
 Jasper, only a few weeks ago, told me that you 
 were not married ; and, indeed, almost gave me 
 to understand that you would be very glad 
 to get a husband/' 
 
 "And you believed him ? I '11 tell you, 
 brother, for your instruction, that there is not 
 in the whole world a greater liar than Jasper 
 Petulengro." 
 
 " I am sorry to hear it, Ursula ; but with 
 respect to him you married who might he be ? 
 A gorgio, or a Romany chal ?" 
 
 " Gorgio, or Komany chal ? Do you think 
 I would ever condescend to a gorgio ? It was a 
 Camomescro, brother, a Lovell, a distant relation 
 of my own." 
 
 " And where is he ; and what became of him ? 
 Have you any family ?" 
 
 " Don't think I am going to tell you all my 
 history, brother ; and, to tell you the truth, I 
 am tired of sitting under hedges with you, 
 talking nonsense. I shall go to my house." 
 
 " Do sit a little longer, sister Ursula. I most 
 heartily congratulate you on your marriage. 
 But where is this same Lovell? I have never 
 seen him : I should wish to congratulate him 
 
Ch. X.] THE ROMANY RYE. 143 
 
 too. You are quite as handsome as the Meri- 
 diana of Pulci, Ursula, ay, or the Despina of 
 Riciardetto. Riciardetto, Ursula, is a poem 
 written by one Fortiguerra, about ninety years 
 ago, in imitation of the Morgante of Pulci. It 
 treats of the wars of Charlemagne and his Pala- 
 dins with various barbarous nations, who came 
 to besiege Paris. Despina was the daughter 
 and heiress of Scricca, King of Cafria ; she was 
 the beloved of Riciardetto, and was beautiful 
 as an angel ; but I make no doubt you are quite 
 as handsome as she/' 
 
 " Brother/' said Ursula but the reply of 
 Ursula I reserve for another chapter, the present 
 having attained to rather an uncommon length, 
 for which, however, the importance of the matte 
 discussed is a sufficient apology. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 URSULA'S TALE. THE PATTERAN. THE DEEP WATER. SECOND 
 
 HUSBAND. 
 
 " BROTHER/' said Ursula, plucking a dandelion 
 which grew at her feet, " I have always said 
 that a more civil and pleasant-spoken person 
 than yourself can't be found. I have a great 
 regard for you and your learning, and am willing 
 to do you any pleasure in the way of words or 
 conversation. Mine is not a very happy story, 
 but as you wish to hear it, it is quite at your 
 service. Launcelot Loveil made me an offer, as 
 you call it, and we were married in Roman 
 fashion ; that is, we gave each other our right 
 hands, and promised to be true to each other. 
 We lived together two years, travelling some- 
 times by ourselves, sometimes with our relations ; 
 I bore him two children, both of which were 
 still-born, partly, I believe, from the fatigue I 
 underwent in running about the country telling 
 dukkerin when I was not exactly in a state -to 
 

 Ch. XL THE ROMANY EYE. 
 
 do so, and partly from the kicks and blows 
 which my husband Launcelot was in the habit of 
 giving me every night, provided I came home 
 with less than five shillings, which it is some- 
 times impossible to make in the country, pro- 
 vided no fair or merry-making is going on. At 
 the end of two years my husband, Launcelot, 
 whistled a horse from a farmer's field, and sold 
 it for forty pounds ; and for that horse he was 
 taken, put in prison, tried, and condemned to be 
 sent to the other country for life. Two days 
 before he was to be sent away, I got leave to see 
 him in the prison, and in the presence of the 
 turnkey I gave him a thin cake of gingerbread, 
 in which there was a dainty saw which could 
 cut through iron. I then took on wonderfully, 
 turned my eyes inside out, fell down in a seem- 
 ing fit, and was carried out of the prison. That 
 same night my husband sawed his irons off, cut 
 through the bars of his window, and dropping 
 down a height of fifty feet, lighted on his legs, 
 and came and joined me on a heath where I was 
 camped alone. We were just getting things 
 ready to be off, when we heard people coming, and 
 sure enough they were runners after my husband, 
 Launcelot Lovell ; for his escape had been disco- 
 vered within a quarter of an hour after he had 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
146 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XI. 
 
 got away. My husband, without bidding me 
 farewell, set off at full speed, and they after him, 
 but they could not take him, and so they came 
 back and took me, and shook me, and threatened 
 me, and had me before the poknees, who shook 
 his head at me, and threatened me in order to 
 make me discover where my husband was, but I 
 said I did not know, which was true enough ; 
 not that I would have told him if I had. So at 
 last the poknees and the runners, not being able 
 to make anything out of me, were obliged to let 
 me go, and I went in search of my husband. I 
 wandered about with my cart for several days 
 in the direction in which I saw him run off, 
 with my eyes bent on the ground, but could see 
 no marks of him ; at last, coming to four cross 
 roads, I saw my husband's patteran/' 
 " You saw your husband's patteran?" 
 " Yes, brother. Do you know what patteran 
 means ?" 
 
 " Of course, Ursula ; the gypsy trail, the 
 handful of grass which the gypsies strew in the 
 roads as they travel, to give information to any 
 of their companions who may be behind, as to 
 the route they have taken. The gypsy patteran 
 has always had a strange interest for me, 
 Ursula" 
 
Ch. XI.] THE ROMANY RYE. 147 
 
 " Like enough, brother ; but what does pat- 
 teran mean?" 
 
 " Why, the gypsy trail, formed as I told you 
 before." 
 
 " And you know nothing more about pat- 
 teran, brother ? " 
 
 " Nothing at all, "Ursula ; do you ?" 
 
 " What's the name for the leaf of a tree, 
 brother?" 
 
 " I don't know," said I ; "it 's odd enough 
 that I have asked that question of a dozen 
 Komany dials and chies, and they always told 
 me that they did not know/' 
 
 ". No more they did, brother ; there 's only one 
 person in England that knows, and that's myself 
 the name for a leaf is patteran. Now there 
 are two that knows it the other is yourself/' 
 
 " Dear me, Ursula, how very strange ! I am 
 much obliged to you. I think I never saw you 
 look so pretty as you do now ; but who told 
 you?" 
 
 " My mother, Mrs. Herne, told it me one day, 
 brother, when she was in a good humour, which 
 she very seldom was, as no one has a better 
 right to know than yourself, as she hated you 
 mortally : it was one day when you had been 
 asking our company what was the word for a 
 
 H 2 
 
148 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XL 
 
 leaf, and nobody could tell you, that she took me 
 aside and told me, for she was in a good humour, 
 and triumphed in seeing you balked. She told 
 me the word for leaf was patteran, which our 
 people use now for trail, having forgotten the true 
 meaning. She said that the trail was called 
 pabteran, because the gypsies of old were in the 
 habit of making the marks with the leaves and 
 branches of trees, placed in a certain manner. 
 She said that nobody knew it but herself, who 
 was one of the old sort, and begged me never to 
 tell the word to any one but him I should 
 marry ; and to be particularly cautious never to 
 let you know it, whom she hated. Well, 
 brother, perhaps I have done wrong to tell 
 you; but, as I said before, I likes you, and am 
 always ready to do your pleasure in words and 
 conversation ; my mother, moreover, is dead and 
 gone, and, poor thing, will never know anything 
 about the matter. So, when I married, I told 
 my husband about the patteran, and we were in 
 the habit of making our private trail with leaves 
 and branches of trees, which none of the other 
 gypsy people did ; so, when I saw my husband's 
 patteran, I knew it at once, and I followed it 
 upwards of two hundred miles towards the 
 north ; and then I came to a deep, awful-looking 
 
Ch. XL] THE ROMANY RYE. 149 
 
 water, with an overhanging bank, and on the 
 bank I found the patteran, which directed me to 
 proceed along the bank towards the east, and I 
 followed my husband's patteran towards the east ; 
 and before I had gone half a mile, I came to a 
 place where I saw the bank had given way, and 
 fallen into the deep water. Without paying 
 much heed, I passed on, and presently came to a 
 public-house, not far from the water, and I 
 entered the public-house to get a little beer, and 
 perhaps to tell a dukkerin, for I saw a great 
 many people about the door ; and, when I en- 
 tered, I found there was what they calls an in- 
 quest being held upon a body in that house, and 
 the jury had just risen to go and look at the 
 body ; and being a woman, and having a cu- 
 riosity, I thought I would go with them, and so 
 I did ; and no sooner did I see the body, than I 
 knew it to be my husband's ; it was much 
 swelled and altered, but I knew it partly by the 
 clothes, and partly by a mark on the forehead, 
 and I cried out, ' It is my husband's body,' and 
 I fell down in a fit, and the fit that time, 
 brother, was not a seeming one." 
 
 " Dear me/' said I, " how terrible ! but tell 
 me, Ursula, how did your husband come by his 
 death?" 
 
150 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XI. 
 
 " The bank, overhanging the deep water, gave 
 way under him, brother, and he was drowned ; 
 for, like most of our people, he could not swim, 
 or only a little. The body, after it had been 
 in the water a long time, came up of itself, and 
 was found floating. Well, brother, when the 
 people of the neighbourhood found that I was 
 the wife of the drowned man, they were very 
 kind to me, and made a subscription for me, 
 with which, after having seen my husband 
 buried, I returned the way I had come, till I 
 met Jasper and his people, and with them I 
 have travelled ever since: I was very melancholy 
 for a long time, I assure you, brother ; for the 
 death of my husband preyed very much upon 
 my mind/' 
 
 "His death was certainly a very shocking 
 one, Ursula ; but, really, if he had died a na- 
 tural one, you could scarcely have regretted it, 
 for he appears to have treated you barbarously/' 
 
 " Women must bear, brother ; and, barring that 
 he kicked and beat me, and drove me out to tell 
 dukkerin when I could scarcely stand, he was 
 not a bad husband. A man, by gypsy law, 
 brother, is allowed to kick and beat his wife, and 
 to bury her alive, if he thinks proper. I am a 
 gypsy, and have nothing to say against the law." 
 
Ch. XL] THE EOMANY EYE. 151 
 
 "But what has Mikailia Chikno to say 
 about it ?" 
 
 "She is a cripple, brother, the only cripple 
 amongst the Roman people: so she is allowed to 
 do and say as she pleases. Moreover, her hus- 
 band does not think fit to kick or beat her, 
 though it is my opinion she would like him all 
 the better if he were occasionally to do so, and 
 threaten to bury her alive ; at any rate, she 
 would treat him better, and respect him more." 
 
 " Your sister does not seem to stand much in 
 awe of Jasper Petulengro, Ursula." 
 
 " Let the matters of my sister and Jasper 
 Petulengro alone, brother ; you must travel in 
 their company some time before you can under- 
 stand them ; they are a strange two, up to all 
 kind of chaffing : but two more regular Romans 
 don't breathe, and 1 11 tell you, for your instruc- 
 tion, that there isn't a better mare-breaker in 
 England than Jasper Petulengro, if you can 
 manage Miss Isopel Berhers as well as . . . .' 
 
 " Isopel Berners," said I, " how came you to 
 think of her?" 
 
 " How should I but think of her, brother, 
 living as she does with you in Mumper's dingle, 
 and travelling about with you ; you will have, 
 brother, more difficulty to manage her, than 
 
152 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XL 
 
 Jasper has to manage my sister Pakomovna. I 
 should have mentioned her before, only I wanted 
 to know what you had to say to me ; and when 
 we got into discourse, I forgot her. I say, 
 brother, let me tell you your dukkerin, with 
 respect to her, you will never . . . ." 
 
 " I want to hear no dukkerin, Ursula/' 
 
 " Do let me tell you your dukkerin, brother, 
 you will never manage . . . ." 
 
 " I want to hear no dukkerin, Ursula, in con- 
 nection with Isopel Berners. Moreover, it is 
 Sunday, we will change the subject ; it is sur- 
 prising to me that, after all you have undergone, 
 you should still look so beautiful. I suppose 
 you do not think of marrying again, Ursula?" 
 
 " No, brother, one husband at a time is quite 
 enough for any reasonable mort ; especially 
 such a good husband as I have got/' 
 
 " Such a good husband ! why, I thought you 
 told me your husband was drowned?" 
 
 " Yes, brother, my first husband was." 
 
 " And have you a second ?" 
 
 "To be sure, brother." 
 
 " And who is he ? in the name of wonder." 
 
 " Who is he ? why Sylvester, to be sure." 
 
 " I do assure you, Ursula, that I feel disposed 
 to be angry with you ; such a handsome young 
 
Ch. XL] THE ROMANY RYE. 1 5 3 
 
 woman as yourself to take up with such a nasty 
 pepper-faced good for nothing . . . ." 
 
 " I won't hear my husband abused, brother ; 
 so you had better say.no more/' 
 
 " Why, is he not the Lazarus of the gypsies ? 
 has he a penny of his own, Ursula?" 
 
 " Then the more his want, brother, of a clever 
 chi like me to take care of him and his childer. 
 I tell you what, brother, I will chore, if neces- 
 sary, and tell dukkerin for Sylvester, if even so 
 heavy as scarcely to be able to stand. You call 
 him lazy ; you would not think him lazy if you 
 were in a ring with him ; he is a proper man 
 with his hands ; Jasper is going to back him for 
 twenty pounds against Slammocks of the Chong 
 gav, the brother of Roarer and Bell-metal, he 
 says he has no doubt that he will v\dn." 
 
 " Well, if you like him, I, of course, can have 
 no objection. Have you been long married?" 
 
 " About a fortnight, brother ; that dinner, the 
 other day, when I sang the song, was given in 
 celebration of the wedding." 
 
 "Were you married in a church, Ursula?" 
 
 " We were not, brother ; none but gorgios, 
 cripples, and lubbenys, are ever married in a 
 church : we took each other's words. Brother. I 
 
 H 3 
 
154 THE ROMANY RYE. [ChfXI. 
 
 have been with you near three hours beneath this 
 hedge. I will go to my husband/' 
 
 " Does he know that you are here?" 
 
 " He does, brother/' 
 
 " And is he satisfied?" 
 
 " Satisfied ! of course. Lor', you gorgies ! 
 Brother, I go to my husband and my house/' 
 And, thereupon, Ursula rose and departed. 
 
 After waiting a little time I also arose ; it 
 was now dark, and I thought I could do no 
 better than betake myself to the dingle ; at 
 the entrance of it I found Mr. Petulengro. 
 " Well, brother," said he, " what kind of con- 
 versation have you and Ursula had beneath the 
 hedge?" 
 
 " If you wished to hear what we were talk- 
 ing about, you should have come and sat down 
 beside us ; you knew where we were." 
 
 " Well, brother, I did much the same, for 
 I went and sat down behind you." 
 
 " Behind the hedge, Jasper ?" 
 
 " Behind the hedge, brother." 
 
 " And heard all our conversation?" 
 
 " Every word, brother ; and a rum conver- 
 sation it was." 
 
 " 'Tis an old saying, Jasper, that listeners 
 
Ch. XL] THE ROMANY EYE. 155 
 
 never hear any good of themselves ; perhaps 
 you heard the epithet that Ursula bestowed 
 upon you." 
 
 " If, by epitaph, you mean that she called me 
 a liar, I did, brother, and she was not much 
 wrong, for I certainly do not always stick ex- 
 actly to truth ; you, however, have not much 
 to complain of me/' 
 
 " You deceived me about Ursula, giving me 
 to understand she was not married." 
 
 " She was not married when I told you so, 
 brother ; that is, not to Sylvester ; nor was I 
 aware that she was going to marry him. I 
 once thought you had a kind of regard for her, 
 and I am sure she had as much for you as a 
 Romany chi can have for a gorgio. I half ex- 
 pected to have heard you make love to her 
 behind the hedge, but I begin to think you 
 care for nothing in this world but old words 
 and strange stories. Lor' to take a young 
 woman under a hedge, and talk to her as 
 you did to Ursula ; and yet you got every- 
 thing out of her that you wanted, with your 
 gammon about old Fulcher and Meridiana. 
 You are a cunning one, brother/' 
 
 " There you are mistaken, Jasper. I am .not 
 cunning. If people think I am, it is because, 
 
156 THE ROMANY HYE. [Ch. XI. 
 
 being made up of art themselves, simplicity of 
 character is a puzzle to them. Your women are 
 certainly extraordinary creatures, Jasper." 
 
 " Didn't I say they were rum animals ? 
 Brother, we Romans shall always stick together 
 as long as they stick fast to us/' 
 
 " Do you think they always will, Jasper?" 
 " Can't say, brother ; nothing lasts for ever. 
 Romany chies are Romany chies still, though 
 not exactly what they were sixty years ago. 
 My wife, though a rum one, is not Mrs. Herne, 
 brother. I think she is rather fond of French- 
 men and French discourse. I tell you what, 
 brother, if ever gypsyism breaks up, it will be 
 owing to our chies having been bitten by that 
 mad puppy they calls gentility." 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE DINGLE AT NIGHT. THE TWO SIDES OP THE QUESTION. RO- 
 MAN FEMALES. FILLING THE KETTLE. THE DREAM. THE TALL 
 
 FIGURE. 
 
 I DESCENDED to the bottom of the dingle. It 
 was nearly involved in obscurity. To dissipate 
 the feeling of melancholy which came over my 
 mind, I resolved to kindle a fire ; and having 
 heaped dry sticks upon my hearth, and added 
 a billet or two, I struck a light, and soon pro- 
 duced a blaze. Sitting down, I fixed my eyes 
 upon the blaze, and soon fell into a deep medita- 
 tion. I thought of the events of the day, the 
 scene at church, and what I had heard at 
 church, the danger of losing one's soul, the 
 doubts of Jasper Petulengro as to whether one 
 had a soul. I thought over the various argu- 
 ments which I had either heard, or which had 
 come spontaneously to my mind, for or against 
 the probability of a state of future existence. 
 They appeared to me to be tolerably evenly ba- 
 
158 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XII. 
 
 lanced. I then thought that it was at all 
 events taking the safest part to conclude that 
 there was a soul. It would be a terrible thing, 
 after having passed one's life in the disbelief 
 of the existence of a soul, to wake up after death 
 a soul, and to find one's self a lost soul. Yes, 
 methought I would come to the conclusion that 
 one has a soul. Choosing the safe side, how- 
 ever, appeared to me playing rather a dastardly 
 part. I had never been an admirer of people 
 who chose the safe side in everything ; indeed 
 I had always entertained a thorough contempt 
 for them. Surely it would be showing more 
 manhood to adopt the dangerous side, that of 
 disbelief; I almost resolved to do so but yet 
 in a question of so much importance, I ought 
 not to be guided by vanity. The question was 
 not which was the safe, but the true side ? 
 yet how was I to know which was the true 
 side ? Then I thought of the Bible which 
 I had been reading in the morning that spoke 
 of the soul and a future state ; but was the 
 Bible true ? I had heard learned and moral 
 men say that it was true, but I had also heard 
 learned and moral men say that it was not : 
 how was I to decide? Still that balance of 
 probabilities ! If I could but see the way of 
 
Ch. XII.] THE ROMANY RYE. 159 
 
 truth, I would follow it, if necessary, upon hands 
 and knees ; on that I was determined ; but I 
 could not see it. Feeling my brain begin to 
 turn round, I resolved to think of something 
 else ; and forthwith began to think of what had 
 passed between Ursula and myself in our dis- 
 course beneath the hedge. 
 
 I mused deeply on what she had told me as to 
 the virtue of the females of her race. How sin- 
 gular that virtue must be which was kept pure 
 and immaculate by the possessor, whilst in- 
 dulging in habits of falsehood and dishonesty. 
 I had always thought the gypsy females extra- 
 ordinary beings. I had often wondered at them, 
 their dress, their manner of speaking, and, not 
 least, at their names ; but, until the present day, 
 I had been unacquainted with the most extraor- 
 dinary point connected with them. How came 
 they possessed of this extraordinary virtue ? was 
 it because they were thievish? I remembered 
 that an ancient thief-taker, who had retired from 
 his useful calling, and who frequently visited the 
 office of my master at law, the respectable S . . . ., 
 who had the management of his property I 
 remembered to have heard this worthy, with 
 whom I occasionally held discourse, philosophic 
 and profound, when he and I chanced to be 
 
160 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XII. 
 
 alone together in the office, say that all first- 
 rate thieves were sober, and of well-regulated 
 morals, their bodily passions being kept in abey- 
 ance by their love of gain ; but this axiom could 
 scarcely hold good with respect to these women 
 
 however thievish they might be, they did care 
 for something besides gain : they cared for their 
 husbands. If they did thieve, they merely 
 thieved for their husbands ; and though, perhaps, 
 some of them were vain, they merely prized their 
 beauty because it gave them favour in the eyes 
 of their husbands. Whatever the husbands were 
 
 and Jasper had almost insinuated that the 
 males occasionally allowed themselves some lati- 
 tude they appeared to be as faithful to their 
 husbands as the ancient Roman matrons were to 
 theirs. Roman matrons ! and, after all, might 
 not these be in reality Roman matrons ? They 
 called themselves Romans ; might not they be 
 the descendants of the old Roman matrons ? 
 Might not they be of the same blood as Lucre tia ? 
 And were not many of their strange names Lu- 
 cretia amongst the rest handed down to them 
 from old Rome ? It is true their language was 
 not that of old Rome ; it was not, however, 
 altogether different from it. After all, the an- 
 cient Romans might be a tribe of these people, 
 
Ch. XII.] THE ROMANY RYE. 161 
 
 who settled down and founded a village with the 
 tilts of carts, which by degrees, and the influx of 
 other people, became the grand city of the world. 
 I liked the idea of the grand city of the world 
 owing its origin to a people who had been in 
 the habit of carrrying their houses in their carts. 
 Why, after all, should not the Romans of history 
 be a branch of these Romans ? There were 
 several points of similarity between them ; if 
 Roman matrons were chaste, both men and wo- 
 men were thieves. Old Rome was the thief of 
 the world ; yet still there were difficulties to be re- 
 moved before I could persuade myself that the old 
 Romans and my Romans were identical ; and 
 in trying to remove these difficulties, I felt my 
 brain once more beginning to turn, and in haste 
 took up another subject of meditation, and that 
 was the patteran, and what Ursula had told me 
 about it. 
 
 I had always entertained a strange interest for 
 that sign by which in their wanderings the Roman- 
 ese gave to those of their people who came behind 
 intimation as to the direction which they took ; 
 but it now inspired me with greater interest than 
 ever, now that I had learnt that the proper 
 meaning of it was the leaves of trees. I had, 
 as I had said in my dialogue with Ursula, been 
 
1G2 THE EOMANY RYE. [Ch. XII. 
 
 very eager to learn the word for leaf in the Ro- 
 manian language, but had never learnt it till this 
 day ; so patteran signified leaf, the leaf of a 
 tree ; and no one at present knew that but my- 
 self and Ursula, who had learnt it from Mrs. 
 Herne, the last, it was said, of the old stock ; 
 and then I thought what strange people the gyp- 
 sies must have been in the old time. They were 
 sufficiently strange at present, but they must 
 have been far stranger of old ; they must have 
 been a more peculiar people then- language 
 must have been more perfect and they must 
 have had a greater stock of strange secrets. I 
 almost wished that I had lived some two or three 
 hundred years ago, that I might have observed 
 these people when they were yet stranger than at 
 present. I wondered whether I could have in- 
 troduced myself to their company at that period, 
 whether I should have been so fortunate as to 
 meet such a strange, half-malicious, half good- 
 humoured being as Jasper, who would have in- 
 structed me in the language, then more deserving 
 of note than at present. What might I not have 
 done with that language, had I known it in its 
 purity ? Why, I might have written books in 
 it ; yet those who spoke it would hardly have 
 admitted me to their society at that period, when 
 
Ch. XII.] THE ROMANY RYE. 163 
 
 they kept more to themselves. Yet I thought 
 that I might possibly have gained their confi- 
 dence, and have wandered about with them, and 
 learnt their language, and all their strange ways, 
 and then and then and a sigh rose from the 
 depth of my breast ; for I began to think, 
 " Supposing I had accomplished all this, what 
 would have been the profit of it ? and in what 
 would all this wild gypsy dream have termi- 
 nated?" 
 
 Then rose another sigh, yet more profound, for 
 I began to think, " What was likely to be the 
 profit of my present way of life ; the living in 
 dingles, making pony and donkey shoes, con- 
 versing with gypsy-women under hedges, and 
 extracting from them their odd secrets?" What 
 was likely to be the profit of such kind of life, 
 even should it continue for a length of time ? 
 a supposition not very probable, for I was earning 
 nothing to support me, and the funds with which 
 I had entered upon this life were gradually dis- 
 appearing. I was living, it is true, not unplea- 
 santly, enjoying the healthy air of heaven ; but, 
 upon the whole, was I not sadly misspending my 
 time ? Surely I was ; and, as I looked back, it 
 appeared to me that I had always been doing so. 
 "What had been the profit of the tongues which I 
 
THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XII. 
 
 had learnt ? had they ever assisted me in the day 
 of hunger ? No, no ! it appeared to me that I 
 had always misspent my time, save in one in- 
 stance, when by a desperate effort I had collected 
 all the powers of my imagination, and written 
 the " Life of Joseph Sell ; " but even when I 
 wrote the Life of Sell, was I not in a false 
 position ? Provided I had not misspent my time, 
 would it have been necessary to make that 
 effort, which, after all, had only enabled me to 
 leave London, and wander about the country for 
 a time ? But could I, taking all circumstances 
 into consideration, have done better than I had ? 
 With my peculiar temperament and ideas, could 
 I have pursued with advantage the profession to 
 which my respectable parents had endeavoured to 
 bring me up ? It appeared to me that I could 
 not, and that the hand of necessity had guided 
 me from my earliest years, until the present 
 night in which I found myself seated in the 
 dingle, staring on the brands of the fire. But 
 ceasing to think of the past which, as irreco- 
 verably gone, it was useless to regret, even were 
 there cause to regret it, what should I do in 
 future ? Should I write another book like the 
 Life of Joseph Sell ; take it to London, and offer 
 it to a publisher ? But when I reflected on the 
 
Ch. XII.] THE KOMANY RYE. 165 
 
 grisly sufferings which I had undergone whilst 
 engaged in writing the Life of Sell, I shrank 
 from the idea of a similar attempt ; moreover, I 
 doubted whether I possessed the power to write 
 a similar work whether the materials for the life 
 of another Sell lurked within the recesses of my 
 brain ? Had I not better become in reality what 
 I had hitherto been merely playing at a tinker 
 or a gypsy ? But I soon saw that I was not fitted 
 to become either in reality. It was much more 
 agreeable to play the gypsy or the tinker, than 
 to become either in reality. I had seen enough 
 of gypsying and tinkering to be convinced of 
 that. Ah 1 of a sudden the idea of tilling the soil 
 came into my head ; tilling the soil was a 
 healthful and noble pursuit ! but my idea of 
 tilling the soil had no connection with Britain ; 
 for I could only expect to till the soil in Britain 
 as a serf. I thought of tilling it in America, in 
 which it was said there was plenty of wild, 
 unclaimed land, of which any one, who chose to 
 clear it of its trees, might take possession. I 
 figured myself in America, in an immense forest, 
 clearing the land destined, by my exertions, to 
 become a fruitful and smiling plain. Methought 
 I heard the crash of the huge trees as they fell 
 beneath my axe ; and then I bethought me that 
 
166 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XII. 
 
 a man was intended to marry I ought to 
 marry ; and if I married, where was I likely to 
 be more happy as a husband and a father than 
 in America, engaged in tilling the ground? I 
 fancied myself in America, engaged in tilling the 
 ground, assisted by an enormous progeny. Well, 
 why not marry, and go and till the ground in 
 America ? I was young, and youth was the time 
 to marry in, and to labour in. I had the use of 
 all my faculties ; my eyes, it is true, were rather 
 dull from early study, and from writing the Life 
 of Joseph Sell ; but I could see tolerably well 
 with them, and they were not bleared. I felt 
 my arms, and thighs, and teeth they were 
 strong and sound enough ; so now was the time 
 to labour, to marry, eat strong flesh, and beget 
 strong children the power of doing all this 
 would pass away with youth, which was terribly 
 transitory. I bethought me that a time would 
 come when my eyes would be bleared, and, per- 
 haps, sightless ; my arms and thighs strengthless 
 and sapless ; when my teeth would shake in my 
 jaws, even supposing they did not drop out. No 
 going a wooing then no labouring no eating 
 strong flesh, and begetting lusty children then ; 
 and I bethought me how, when all this should be, 
 I should bewail the days of my youth as mis- 
 
Ch. XII.] THE ROMANY RYE. 167 
 
 spent, provided I had not in them founded for 
 myself a home, and begotten strong children to 
 take care of me in the days when I could not 
 take care of myself ; and thinking of these things, 
 I became sadder and sadder, and stared vacantly 
 upon the fire till my eyes closed in a doze. 
 
 I continued dozing over the fire, until rousing 
 myself I perceived that the brands were nearly 
 consumed, and I thought of retiring for the night. 
 I arose, and was about to enter my tent, when a 
 thought struck me. " Suppose/' thought I, " that 
 Isopel Berners should return in the midst of 
 the night, how dark and dreary would the dingle 
 appear without a fire ! truly, I will keep up the 
 fire, and I will do more ; I have no board to 
 spread for her, but I will fill the kettle, and 
 heat it, so that, if she comes, I may be able to 
 welcome her with a cup of tea, for I know she 
 loves tea/' Thereupon, I piled more wood upon 
 the fire, and soon succeeded in producing a better 
 blaze than before ; then, taking the kettle, I set 
 out for the spring. On arriving at the mouth of 
 the dingle, which fronted the east, I perceived 
 that Charles's wain was nearly opposite to it, 
 high above in the heavens, by which I knew 
 that the night was tolerably well advanced. 
 The gypsy encampment lay before me ; all was 
 
168 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XII. 
 
 hushed and still within it, and its inmates ap- 
 peared to be locked in slumber ; as I advanced, 
 however, the dogs, which were fastened outside 
 the tents, growled and barked ; but presently 
 recognising me, they were again silent, some of 
 them wagging their tails. As I drew near a 
 particular tent, I heard a female voice say 
 " Some one is coming ! " and, as I was about to 
 pass it, the cloth which formed the door was 
 suddenly lifted up, and a black head, and part 
 of a huge naked body protruded. It was the 
 head and upper part of the giant Tawno, who, 
 according to the fashion of gypsy men, lay next 
 the door, wrapped in his blanket ; the blanket 
 had, however, fallen off, and the starlight shone 
 clear on- his athletic tawny body, and was re- 
 flected from his large staring eyes. 
 
 " It is only I, Tawno/' said I, " going to 
 fill the kettle, as it is possible that Miss Berners 
 may arrive this night/' " Kos-ko/' drawled out 
 Tawno, and replaced the curtain. " Good, do 
 you call it?" said the sharp voice of his wife ; 
 " there is no good in the matter ; if that young 
 chap were not living with the rawnee in the 
 illegal and uncertificated line, he would not be 
 getting up in the middle of the night to fill her 
 kettles/' Passing on, I proceeded to the spring, 
 
Ch. XIL] THE KOMANY RYE. 169 
 
 where I filled the kettle, and then returned to 
 the dingle. 
 
 Placing the kettle upon the fire, I watched it 
 till it began to boil ; then removing it from the 
 top of the brands, I placed it close beside the 
 fire, and leaving it simmering, I retired to my 
 tent ; where, having taken off my shoes, and a 
 few of my garments, I lay down on my palliasse, 
 and was not long in falling asleep. I believe I 
 slept soundly for some time, thinking and dream- 
 ing of nothing ; suddenly, however, my sleep be- 
 came disturbed, and the subject of the patterans 
 began to occupy my brain. I imagined that I 
 saw Ursula tracing her husband, Launcelot Lovel, 
 by means of his patterans ; I imagined that she 
 had considerable difficulty in doing so ; that she 
 was occasionally interrupted by parish beadles 
 and constables, who asked her whither she was 
 travelling, to whom she gave various answers. 
 Presently methought that, as she was passing by 
 a farm-yard, two fierce and savage dogs flew at 
 her ; I was in great trouble, I remember, and 
 wished to assist her, but could not, for though I 
 seemed to see her, I was still at a distance : and 
 now it appeared that she had escaped from the 
 dogs, and was proceeding with her cart along 
 a gravelly path which traversed a wild moor ; 
 
 VOL. I. I 
 
170 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XII. 
 
 I could hear the wheels grating amidst sand and 
 gravel. The next moment I was awake, and 
 found myself sitting up in my tent ; there was a 
 glimmer of light through the canvas caused by 
 the fire ; a feeling of dread came over me, which 
 was perhaps natural, on starting suddenly from 
 one's sleep in that wild lone place ; I half 
 imagined that some one was nigh the tent ; the 
 idea made me rather uncomfortable, and, to dis- 
 sipate it, I lifted up the canvas of the door and 
 peeped out, and, lo ! I had an indistinct view 
 of a tall figure standing by the tent. " Who is 
 that?" said I, whilst I felt my blood rush to 
 my heart. "It is I," said the voice of Isopel 
 Bemers ; " you little expected me, I dare say ; 
 well, sleep on, I do not wish to disturb you/' 
 " But I was expecting you/' said I, recovering 
 myself, " as you may see by the fire and the 
 kettle. I will be with you in a moment/' 
 
 Putting on in haste the articles of dress which 
 I had flung off, I came out of the tent, and 
 addressing myself to Isopel, who was standing 
 beside her cart, I said "Just as I was about 
 to retire to rest I thought it possible that you 
 might come to-night, and got everything in 
 readiness for you. Now, sit down by the fire 
 whilst I lead the donkey and cart to the place 
 
Ch. XII.] THE ROMANY RYE. I 1 ?! 
 
 where you stay ; I will unharness the animal, 
 and presently come and join you/' "I need 
 not trouble you/' said Isopel ; " I will go myself 
 and see after my things/' "We will go to- 
 gether/' said I, " and then return and have 
 some tea." Isopel made no objection, and in 
 about half an hour we had arranged every- 
 thing at her quarters, I then hastened and pre- 
 pared tea. Presently Isopel rejoined me, bring- 
 ing her stool ; she had divested herself of her 
 bonnet, and her hair fell over her shoulders ; 
 she sat down, and I poured out the beverage, 
 handing her a cup. " Have you made a long 
 journey to-night?" said I. "A very long one," 
 replied Belle, " I have come nearly twenty miles 
 since six o'clock." " I believe I heard you 
 coming in my sleep," said I ; " did the dogs 
 above bark at you?" "Yes," said Isopel, 
 " very violently ; did you think of me in your 
 sleep?" " No," said I, "I was thinking of 
 Ursula and something she had told me." 
 "When and where was that?" said Isopel. 
 " Yesterday evening," said I, " beneath the 
 dingle hedge." "Then you were talking with 
 her beneath the hedge?" "I was," said I, 
 " but only upon gypsy matters. Do you 
 know, Belle, that she has just been married to 
 
 I 2 
 
172 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XII. 
 
 Sylvester, so you need not think that she and 
 I . . ." " She and you are quite at liberty to 
 sit where you please/' said Isopel. " However, 
 young man/' she continued, dropping her tone, 
 which she had slightly raised, " I believe what you 
 said, that you were merely talking about gypsy 
 matters, and also what you were going to say, if 
 it was, as I suppose, that she and you had no 
 particular acquaintance/' Isopel was now silent 
 for some time. "What are you thinking of?" 
 said I. "I was thinking/' said Belle, "how 
 exceedingly kind it was of you to get everything 
 in readiness for me, though you did not know that- 
 I should come." " I had a presentiment that 
 you would come," said I ; "but you forget that 
 I have prepared the kettle for you before, though 
 it was true I was then certain that you would 
 come." " I had not forgotten your doing so, 
 young man," said Belle ; "but I was beginning 
 to think that you were utterly selfish, caring for 
 nothing but the gratification of your own strange 
 whims." " I am very fond of having my own 
 way," said I, " but utterly selfish I am not, as 
 I dare say I shall frequently prove to you. 
 You will often find the kettle boiling when you 
 come home." " Not heated by you," said 
 Isopel, with a sigh. " By whom else?" said 
 
Ch. XII.] THE EOMANY EYE. 173 
 
 I ; " surely you are not thinking of driving me 
 away?" "You have as much right here as my- 
 self/' said Isopel, " as I have told you before ; but 
 I must be going myseK" " Well/' said I, " we can 
 go together ; to tell you the truth, I am rather 
 tired of this place/' " Our paths must be sepa- 
 rate/' said Belle. " Separate/' said I, " what do 
 you mean ? I shan't let you go alone, I shall go 
 with you ; and you know the road is as free to 
 me as to you ; besides, you can't think of part- 
 ing company with me, considering how much 
 you would lose by doing so ; remember that you 
 scarcely know anything of the Armenian lan- 
 guage ; now, to learn Armenian from me would 
 take you twenty years." 
 
 Belle faintly smiled. "Come," said I, "take 
 another cup of tea." Belle took another cup of 
 tea, and yet another ; we had some indifferent 
 conversation, after which I arose and gave her 
 donkey a considerable feed of corn. Belle 
 thanked me, shook me by the hand, and then 
 went to her own tabernacle, and I returned to 
 mine. 
 
CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 VISIT TO THE LANDLORD. HIS MORTIFICATIONS. HUNTER AND 
 HIS CLAN. RESOLUTION. 
 
 ON the following morning, after breakfasting 
 with Belle, who was silent and melancholy, I 
 left her in the dingle, and took a stroll amongst 
 the neighbouring lanes. After some time I 
 thought I would pay a visit to the landlord of 
 the public-house, whom I had not seen since the 
 day when he communicated to me his intention 
 of changing his religion. I therefore directed 
 my steps to the house, and on entering it found 
 the landlord standing in the kitchen. Just then 
 two mean-looking fellows, who had been drink- 
 ing at one of the tables, and who appeared to be 
 the only customers in the house, got up, brushed 
 past the landlord, and saying in a surly tone we 
 shall pay you some time or other, took their 
 departure. " That 's the way they serve me 
 now/' said the landlord, with a sigh. " Do you 
 know those fellows/' I demanded, " since you 
 
Ch. XIII.] THE ROMANY RYE. 175 
 
 let them go away in your debt?" " I know 
 nothing about them/' said the landlord, " save 
 that they are a couple of scamps/' "Then why 
 did you let them go away without paying you?" 
 said I. " I had not the heart to stop them," 
 said the landlord ; " and, to tell you the truth, 
 everybody serves me so now, and I suppose they 
 are right, for a child could flog me." "Non- 
 sense," said I, " behave more like a man, and 
 with respect to those two fellows run after them, 
 I will go with you, and if they refuse to pay 
 the reckoning I will help you to shake some 
 money out of their clothes." " Thank you," 
 said the landlord ; but as they are gone, let 
 them go on. What they have drank is not of 
 much consequence." "What is the matter with 
 you?" said I, staring at the landlord, who ap- 
 peared strangely altered ; Ins features were wild 
 and haggard, his formerly bluff cheeks were 
 considerably sunken in, and his figure had lost 
 much of its plumpness. "Have you changed 
 your religion already, and has the fellow in black 
 commanded you to fast ?" "I have not changed 
 my religion yet," said the landlord, with a kind 
 of shudder ; " I am to change it publicly this 
 day fortnight, and the idea of doing so I do 
 not mind telling you preys much upon my 
 
176 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XIII. 
 
 mind ; moreover, the noise of the thing has got 
 abroad, and everybody is laughing at me, and 
 what 's more, coming and drinking my beer, and 
 going away without paying for it, whilst I feel 
 myself like one bewitched, wishing but not 
 daring to take my own part. Confound the 
 fellow in black, I wish I had never seen him ! 
 yet what can I do without him ? The brewer 
 swears that unless I pay him fifty pounds within 
 a fortnight he '11 send a distress warrant into the 
 house, and take ah 1 I have. My poor niece is 
 crying in the room above ; and I am thinking of 
 going into the stable and hanging myself; and 
 perhaps it 's the best thing I can do, for it 's better 
 to hang myself before selling my soul than after- 
 wards, as I 'm sure I should, like Judas Iscariot, 
 whom my poor niece, who is somewhat reli- 
 giously inclined, has been talking to me about/' 
 "I wish I could assist you/' said I, "with 
 money, but that is quite out of my power. 
 However, I can give you a piece of advice. 
 Don't change your religion by any means ; you 
 can't hope to prosper if you do ; and if the 
 brewer chooses to deal hardly with you, let him. 
 Everybody would respect you ten times more 
 provided you allowed yourself to be turned into 
 the roads rather than change your religion, than 
 
Ch. XIII.] THE ROMANY EYE. 177 
 
 if you got fifty pounds for renouncing it." 
 " I am half inclined to take your advice/' said 
 the landlord, " only, to tell you the truth, I feel 
 quite low, without any heart in me/' " Come 
 into the bar/' said I, " and let us have some- 
 thing together you need not be afraid of my 
 not paying for what I order/' 
 
 We went into the bar-room, where the land- 
 lord and I discussed between us two bottles of 
 strong ale, which he said were part of the last 
 six which he had in his possession. At first he 
 wished to drink sherry, but I begged him to do 
 no such thing, telling him that sherry would do 
 him no good, under the present circumstances ; 
 nor, indeed, to the best of my belief under any, it 
 being of all wines the one for which I enter- 
 tained the most contempt. The landlord al- 
 lowed himself to be dissuaded, and, after a glass 
 or two of ale, confessed that sherry was a sickly 
 disagreeable drink, and that he had merely been 
 in the habit of taking it from an idea he had 
 that it was genteel. Whilst quaffing our beve- 
 rage, he gave me an account of the various morti- 
 fications to which he had of late been subject, 
 dwelling with particular bitterness on the con- 
 duct of Hunter, who he said came every night 
 and mouthed him, and afterwards went away 
 
 I 3 
 
178 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XIII. 
 
 without paying for what he had drank or 
 smoked, in which conduct he was closely imi- 
 tated by a clan of fellows who constantly at- 
 tended him. After spending several hours at the 
 public-house I departed, not forgetting to pay for 
 the two bottles of ale. The landlord, before I 
 went, shaking me by the hand, declared that he 
 had now made up his mind to stick to his reli- 
 gion at all hazards, the more especially as he was 
 convinced he should derive no good by giving 
 it up. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 PREPARATIONS FOR THE FAIR. THE LAST LESSON. THE VERB 
 SIRIEL. 
 
 IT might be about five in the evening when I 
 reached the gypsy encampment. Here I found 
 Mr. Petulengro, Tawno Chikno, Sylvester, and 
 others, in a great bustle, clipping and trimming 
 certain ponies and old horses which they had 
 brought with them. On inquiring of Jasper the 
 reason of then- being so engaged, he informed me 
 that they were getting the horses ready for a fair, 
 which was to be held on the morrow, at a place 
 some miles distant, at which they should en- 
 deavour to dispose of them, adding " Perhaps, 
 brother, you will go with us, provided you have 
 nothing better to do? " Not having any particular 
 engagement, I assured him that I should have 
 great pleasure in being of the party. It was 
 agreed that we should start early on the follow- 
 ing morning. Thereupon I descended into the 
 dingle. Belle was sitting before the fire, at 
 
180 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XIV. 
 
 which the kettle was boiling. " Were you wait- 
 ing for me?" I inquired. "Yes," said Belle, 
 " I thought that you would come, and I waited for 
 you/' "That was very kind," said I. "Not 
 half so kind/' said she, "as it was of you to get 
 everything ready for me in the dead of last night, 
 when there was scarcely a chance of my coming." 
 The tea-things were brought forward, and we sat 
 down. "Have you been far?" said Belle. 
 " Merely to that public-house," said I, "to 
 which you directed me on the second day of our 
 acquaintance." " Young men should not make a 
 habit of visiting public-houses," said Belle, " they 
 are bad places." " They may be so to some 
 people," said I, " but I do not-think the worst 
 public-house in England could do me any harm." 
 " Perhaps you are so bad already," said Belle, 
 with a smile, " that it would be impossible to 
 spoil you." " How dare you catch at my 
 words?" said I; "come, I will make you pay 
 for doing so you shall have this evening the 
 longest lesson in Armenian which I have yet 
 inflicted upon you." " You may well say in- 
 flicted," said Belle, " but pray spare me. I do 
 not wish to hear anything about Armenian, 
 especially this evening." " Why this evening ?" 
 said I. Belle made no answer. " I will not 
 
Ch. XIV.] THE ROMANY RYE. 181 
 
 spare you/' said I ; "this evening I intend to make 
 you conjugate an Armenian verb." "Well, be it 
 so/' said Belle ; " for this evening you shall 
 command/' " To command is hramahyel," said 
 I. " Ram her ill, indeed/' said Belle ; " I do 
 not wish to begin with that." "No," said I, 
 "as we have come to the verbs, we will begin 
 regularly ; " hramahyel is a verb of the second 
 conjugation. We will begin with the first." 
 " First of all 'tell me," said Belle, " what a verb 
 is?" "A part of speech," said I, "which, ac- 
 cording to the dictionary, signifies some action or 
 passion ; for example, I command you, or I hate 
 you." " I have given you no cause to hate me," 
 said Belle, looking me sorrowfully in the face. 
 
 " I was merely giving two examples," said I, 
 " and neither was directed at you. In those 
 examples, to command and hate are verbs. Belle, 
 in Armenian there are four conjugations of verbs ; 
 the first end in al, the second in yel, the third 
 in oul, and the fourth in il. Now, have you 
 understood me?" 
 
 " I am afraid, indeed, it will all end ill," said 
 Belle. "Hold your tongue," said I, "or you 
 will make me lose my patience." " You have 
 already made* me nearly lose mine," said Belle. 
 " Let us have no unprofitable interruptions," 
 
182 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XIV. 
 
 said I ; " the conjugations of the Armenian verbs 
 are neither so numerous nor so difficult as the 
 declensions of the nouns ; hear that, and rejoice. 
 Come, we will begin with the verb hntal, a verb 
 of the first conjugation, which signifies to rejoice. 
 Come along ; hntam, I rejoice ; hntas, thou re- 
 joicest : why don't you follow, Belle?" 
 
 " I am sure I don't rejoice, whatever you may 
 do/' said Belle. " The chief difficulty, Belle/' 
 said I, " that I find in teaching you the Arme- 
 nian grammar, proceeds from your applying to 
 yourself and me every example I give. Rejoice, 
 in this instance, is merely an example of an Ar- 
 menian verb of the first conjugation, and has no 
 more to do with your rejoicing than lal, which is 
 also a verb of the first conjugation, and which 
 signifies to weep, would have to do with your 
 weeping, provided I made you conjugate it. 
 Come along ; hntam, I rejoice ; hntas thou re- 
 joicest ; hnta, he rejoices ; hntamk, we rejoice : 
 now, repeat those words." 
 
 " I can't," said Belle, " they sound more like 
 the language of horses than of human beings. 
 Do you take me for ....?" " For what ?" said 
 I. Belle was silent. " Were you going to say 
 mare?" said I. "Mare! mare! by-the-by, do 
 you know, Belle, that mare in old English stands 
 
Ch. XIV.] THE ROMANY RYE. 183 
 
 for woman ; and "that when we call a female an 
 evil mare, the strict meaning of the term is 
 merely bad woman. So if I were to call you 
 mare, without prefixing bad, you must not be 
 offended." " But I should, though/' said Belle. 
 " I was merely attempting to make you ac- 
 quainted with a philological fact/' said I. "If 
 mare, which in old English, and likewise in 
 vulgar English, signifies a woman, sounds the 
 same as mare, which in modern and polite English 
 signifies a female horse, I can't help it. There 
 is no such confusion of sounds in Armenian, not, 
 at least, in the same instance. Belle, in Arme- 
 nian, woman is ghin, the same word, by the 
 bye, a sour queen, whereas mare is madagh tzi, 
 which signifies a female horse ; and perhaps you 
 will permit me to add, that a hard-mouthed jade 
 is, in Armenian, madagh tzi hsdierah." 
 
 " I can't bear this much longer," said Belle. 
 " Keep yourself quiet," said I ; " I wish to be 
 gentle with you ; and to convince you, we will 
 skip hntal, and also for the present verbs of the 
 first conjugation, and proceed to the second. 
 Belle, I will now select for you to conjugate the 
 prettiest verb in Armenian ; not only of the 
 second, but also of all the four conjugations ; 
 
184 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XIV. 
 
 that verb is siriel. Here is the present tense : 
 siriem, siries, sire, siriemk, sirek, sirien. 
 You observe that it runs on just in the same 
 manner as hntal, save and except that e is sub- 
 stituted for a ; and it will be as well to tell you 
 that almost the only difference between the 
 second, third, and fourth conjugations, and the 
 first, is the substituting in the present, pre- 
 terite, and other tenses e, or ou, or i for a ; 
 so you see that the Armenian verbs are by no 
 means difficult. Come on, Belle, and say sir- 
 iem/' Belle hesitated. "Pray oblige me, Belle, 
 by saying siriem \" Belle still appeared to 
 hesitate. "You must admit, Belle, that it is 
 much softer than hntam." "It is so," said 
 Belle ; "and to oblige you, I will say siriem/' 
 "Very well indeed, Belle/' said I. "No var- 
 tabied, or doctor, could have pronounced it 
 better ; and now, to show you how verbs act 
 upon pronouns in Armenian, I will say siriem 
 zkiez. Please to repeat siriem zkiez!" "Si- 
 riem zkiez ! " said Belle ; " that last word is 
 very hard to say." "Sorry that you think 
 so, Belle/' said I. "Now please to say siria 
 zis." Belle did so. " Exceedingly well/' said 
 I. " Now say yerani the sireir zis." "Yerani 
 
Ch. XIY.] THE EOMANY RYE. 185 
 
 the sireir zis," said Belle. "Capital!" said 
 I ; " you have now said, I love you love me 
 ah ! would that you would love me ! " 
 
 "And I have said all these things?" said 
 Belle. " Yes/' said I ; "you have said them in 
 Armenian." " I would have said them in no 
 language that I understood," said Belle ; "and it 
 was very wrong of you to take advantage of my 
 ignorance, and make me say such things." 
 "Why so ?" said I ; " if you said them, I said 
 them too." "You did so," said Belle ; "but I 
 believe you were merely bantering and jeering." 
 "As I told you before, Belle," said I, "the chief 
 difficulty which I find in teaching you Armenian 
 proceeds from your persisting in applying to 
 yourself and me every example I give." " Then 
 you meant nothing after all ?" said Belle, raising 
 her voice. " Let us proceed/' said I ; " sirietsi, I 
 loved." " You never loved any one but yourself," 
 said Belle ; " and what's more . . . ." " Sirietsits, 
 I will love," said I ; " siriestsies, thou wilt love." 
 " Never one so thoroughly heartless," said Belle. 
 " I tell you what, Belle, you are becoming into- 
 lerable, but we will change the verb ; or rather 
 I will now proceed to tell you here, that some 
 of the Armenian conjugations have their ano- 
 malies ; one species of these I wish to bring 
 
186 THE EOMANY EYE. [Ch. XIV. 
 
 before your notice. As old Villotte says 
 from whose work I first contrived to pick up the 
 rudiments of Armenian c Est verborum transi- 
 tivorum, quorum infinitivus . . . / but I forgot, 
 you don't understand Latin. He says there are 
 certain transitive verbs, whose infinitive is in 
 outsaniel ; the preterite in outsi ;' the impera- 
 tive in oue ; for example parghatsoutsaniem, I 
 irritate" .... 
 
 " You do, you do," said Belle ; " and it will be 
 better for both of us, if you leave off doing so/' 
 
 "You would hardly believe, Belle," said I, 
 " that the Armenian is in some respects closely 
 connected with the Irish, but so it is ; for 
 example, that word parghatsoutsaniem is evi- 
 dently derived from the same root as feargaim, 
 which, in Irish, is as much as to say I vex." 
 
 "You do, indeed," said Belle, sobbing. 
 
 " But how do you account for it ?" 
 
 " man, man ! " said Belle, bursting into 
 tears, " for what purpose do you ask a poor igno- 
 rant girl such a question, unless it be to vex and 
 irritate her ? If you wish to display your learn- 
 ing, do so to the wise and instructed, and not to 
 me, who can scarcely read or write. Oh, leave 
 off your nonsense ; yet I know you will not do 
 so, for it is the breath of your nostrils ! I could 
 
Ch. XIV.] THE ROMANY RYE. 187 
 
 have wished we should have parted in kindness, 
 but you will not permit it. I have deserved 
 better at your hands than such treatment. The 
 whole time we have kept company together in 
 this place, I have scarcely had one kind word 
 from you, but the strangest " . . . . and here 
 the voice of Belle was drowned in her sobs. 
 
 " I am sorry to see you take on so, dear 
 Belle/' said I. "I really have given you no 
 cause to be so unhappy ; surely teaching you a 
 little Armenian was a very innocent kind of 
 diversion." 
 
 " Yes, but you went on so long, and in such a 
 strange way, and made me repeat such strange 
 examples, as you call them, that I could not 
 bear it." 
 
 " Why, to tell you the truth, Belle, it 's my 
 way; and I have dealt with you just as I 
 would with . . . ." 
 
 " A hard-mouthed jade," said Belle, " and you 
 practising your horse-witchery upon her. I 
 have been of an unsubdued spirit, I acknowledge, 
 but I was always kind to you ; and if you have 
 made me cry, it 's a poor thing to boast of." 
 
 " Boast of ! " said I ; " a pretty thing in- 
 deed to boast of; I had no idea of making you 
 cry. Come, I beg your pardon ; what more can 
 
188 THE EOMANY EYE. [Ch. XIY. 
 
 I do ? Come, cheer up, Belle. You were talk- 
 ing of parting ; don't let us part, but depart, 
 and that together/' 
 
 " Our ways lie different," said Belle. 
 
 " I don't see why they should," said I. 
 " Come, let us be off to America together?" 
 
 "To America together?" said Belle, looking 
 full at me. 
 
 " Yes," said I ; " where we will settle down 
 in some forest, and conjugate the verb siriel 
 conjugally." 
 
 "Conjugally?" said Belle. 
 
 " Yes," said I ; "as man and wife in America, 
 air yew ghin." 
 
 " You are jesting, as usual," said Belle. 
 
 " Not I, indeed. Come, Belle, make up your 
 mind, and let us be off to America ; and leave 
 priests, humbug, learning, and languages be- 
 hind us." 
 
 " I don 't think you are jesting," said Belle ; 
 " but I can hardly entertain your offers ; how- 
 ever, young man, I thank you." 
 
 " You had better make up your mind at once," 
 said I, " and let us be off. I shan't make a bad 
 husband, I assure you. Perhaps you think I am 
 not worthy of you ? To convince you, Belle, that 
 I am, I am ready to try a fall with you this mo- 
 
Ch. XIV.] THE ROMANY RYE. 189 
 
 ment upon the grass. Brynhilda, the valkyrie, 
 swore that no one should marry her who could 
 not fling her down. Perhaps you have done the 
 same. The man who eventually married her, 
 got a friend of his, who was called Sygurd, the 
 serpent-killer, to wrestle with her, disguising him 
 in his own armour. Sygurd flung her down, and 
 won her for his friend, though he loved her him- 
 self. I shah 1 not use a similar deceit, nor em- 
 ploy Jasper Petulengro to personate me so 
 get up, Belle, and I will do my best to fling you 
 down/' 
 
 " I require no such thing of you, or anybody/' 
 said Belle ; "you are beginning to look rather 
 wild." 
 
 "I every now and then do/' said I ; "come, 
 Belle, what do you say?" 
 
 " I will say nothing at present on the subject/' 
 said Belle, " I must have time to consider." 
 
 "Just as you please," said I, "to-morrow I 
 go to a fair with Mr. Petulengro, perhaps you will 
 consider whilst I am away. Come, Belle, let us 
 have some more tea. I wonder whether we 
 shall be able to procure tea as good as this in 
 the American forest." 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE DAWN OP DAY. THE LAST FAREWELL. DEPARTURE FOR THE 
 FAIR. THE FINE HORSE. RETURN TO THE DINGLE. NO ISOPEL. 
 
 IT was about the dawn of day when I was 
 awakened by the voice of Mr. Petulengro shout- 
 ing from the top of the dingle, and bidding me 
 get up. I arose instantly, and dressed myself 
 for the expedition to the fair. On leaving my 
 tent, I was surprised to observe Belle, entirely 
 dressed, standing close to her own little encamp- 
 ment. " Dear me/' said I, " I little expected to 
 find you up so early. I suppose Jasper's call 
 awakened you, as it did me/' " I merely lay 
 down in my things," said Belle, " and have not 
 slept during the night." "And why did you 
 not take off your things and go to sleep?" said 
 I. " I did not undress," said Belle, " because I 
 wished to be in readiness to bid you farewell 
 when you departed ; and as for sleeping, I could 
 not." "Well, God bless you!" said I, taking 
 
Ch. XV.] THE ROMANY RYE. 191 
 
 Belle by the hand. Belle made no answer, and 
 I observed that her hand was very cold. " What 
 is the matter with you?" said I, looking her in 
 the face. Belle looked at me for a moment in the 
 eyes, and then cast down her own her features 
 were very pale. " You are really unwell/' said 
 I, " I had better not go to the fair, but stay 
 here, and take care of you/' "No/' said Belle, 
 "pray go, I am not unwell/' " Then go to your 
 tent," said I, " and do not endanger your 
 health by standing abroad in the raw morning 
 air. God bless you, Belle, I shall be home to- 
 night, by which time I expect you will have 
 made up your mind, if not, another lesson in 
 Armenian, however late the hour be." I then 
 wrung Belle's hand, and ascended to the plain 
 above. 
 
 I found the Romany party waiting for me, 
 and everything in readiness for departing. Mr. 
 Petulengro and Tawno Chikno were mounted on 
 two old horses. The rest, who intended to go 
 to the fair, amongst whom were two or three 
 women, were on foot. On arriving at the extre- 
 mity of the plain, I looked towards the dingle. 
 Isopel Berners stood at the mouth, the beams of 
 the early morning sun shone full on her noble 
 face and figure. I waved my hand towards her. 
 
192 THE ROMANY RYE. [Oh. XY. 
 
 She slowly lifted up her right arm. I turned 
 away, and never saw Isopel Berners again. 
 
 My companions and myself proceeded on our 
 way. In about two hours we reached the 
 place where the fair was to be held. After 
 breakfasting on bread and cheese and ale behind 
 a broken stone wall, we drove our animals to 
 the fair. The fair was a common cattle and 
 horse fair : there was little merriment going on, 
 but there was no lack of business. By about 
 two o'clock in the afternoon, Mr. Petulengro and 
 his people had disposed of their animals at what 
 they conceived very fair prices they were all in 
 high spirits, and Jasper proposed to adjourn to a 
 public-house. As we were proceeding to one, a 
 very fine horse, led by a jockey, made its appear- 
 ance on the ground. Mr. Petulengro stopped 
 short, and looked at it steadfastly : " Fino covar 
 dove odoy sas miro a fine thing were that, if it 
 were but mine ! " he exclaimed. " If you covet 
 it," said I, "why do you not purchase it?" 
 "We low gyptians never buy animals of that 
 description ; if we did we could never sell them, 
 and most likely should be had up as horse- 
 stealers." " Then why did you say just now, 
 'It were a fine thing if it were but yours ?' r 
 said I. "We gyptians always say so when 
 
Ch. XV.] THE ROMANY RYE. 193 
 
 we see anything that we admire. An animal 
 like that is not intended for a little hare like 
 me, but for some grand gentleman like your- 
 self. I say, brother, do you buy that horse ! " 
 "How should I buy the horse, you foolish person !" 
 said I. " Buy the horse, brother/' said Mr. Pe- 
 tulengro, " if you have not the money I can lend 
 it you ; though I be of lower Egypt/' " You 
 talk nonsense/' said I ; " however, I wish you 
 would ask the man the price of it." Mr. Petu- 
 lengro, going up to the jockey, inquired the price 
 of the horse the man, looking at him scornfully, 
 made no reply. " Young man/' said I, going up 
 to the jockey, " do me the favour to tell me the 
 price of that horse, as I suppose it is to sell." 
 The jockey, who was a surly-looking man, of 
 about fifty, looked at me for a moment, then, 
 after some hesitation, said, laconically, " Seventy." 
 " Thank you/' said I, and turned away. " Buy 
 that horse," said Mr. Petulengro, coming after 
 me ; " the dook tells me that in less than three 
 months he will be sold for twice seventy." " I 
 will have nothing to do with him," said I ; " be- 
 sides, Jasper, I don't like his tail. Did you ob- 
 serve what a mean scrubby tail he has ?" " What 
 a fool you are, brother," said Mr. Petulengro ; 
 " that very tail of his shows his breeding. No 
 
 VOL. I. K 
 
194 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XV. 
 
 good bred horse ever yet carried a fine tail 'tis 
 your scrubby-tailed horses that are your out-and- 
 outers. Did you ever hear of Syntax, brother ? 
 That tail of his puts me in mind of Syntax. 
 Well, I say nothing more, have your own way 
 all I wonder at is, that a horse like him was 
 ever brought to such a fair of dog cattle as 
 this." 
 
 We then made the best of our way to a 
 public-house, where we had some refreshment. 
 I then proposed returning 'to the encampment, 
 but Mr. Petulengro declined, and remained drink- 
 ing with his companions till about six o'clock in 
 the evening, when various jockeys from the fair 
 came in. After some conversation a jockey pro- 
 posed a game of cards ; and in a little time, Mr. 
 Petulengro and another gypsy sat down to play a 
 game of cards with two of the jockeys. 
 
 Though not much acquainted with cards, I 
 soon conceived a suspicion that the jockeys were 
 cheating Mr. Petulengro and his companion, I 
 therefore called Mr. Petulengro aside, and gave 
 him a hint to that effect. Mr. Petulengro, how- 
 ever, instead of thanking me, told me to mind 
 my own bread and butter, and forthwith re- 
 turned to his game. I continued watching the 
 players for some hours. The gypsies lost consi- 
 
Ch. XV.] THE ROMANY RYE. 195 
 
 derably, and I saw clearly that the jockeys were 
 cheating them most confoundedly. I therefore 
 once more called Mr. Petulengro aside, and told 
 him that the jockeys were cheating him, conjur- 
 ing him to return to the encampment. Mr. 
 Petulengro, who was by this time somewhat the 
 worse for liquor, now fell into a passion, swore 
 several oaths, and asking me who had made me 
 a Moses over him and his brethren, told me to 
 return to the encampment by myself. Incensed 
 at the unworthy return which my well-meant 
 words had received, I forthwith left the house, 
 and having purchased a few articles of provision, 
 I set out for the dingle alone. It was dark 
 night when I reached it, and descending I saw 
 the glimmer of a fire from the depths of the 
 dingle ; my heart beat with fond anticipation of 
 a welcome. " Isopel Berners is waiting for me/' 
 said I, " and the first word that I shall hear 
 from her lips is that she has made up her mind. 
 We shall go to America, and be so happy to- 
 gether. On reaching the bottom of the dingle, 
 however, I saw seated near the fire, beside which 
 stood the kettle simmering, not Isopel Berners, 
 but a gypsy girl, who told me that Miss Berners 
 when she went away had charged her to keep 
 up the fire, and have the kettle boiling against 
 
 K 2 
 
196 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XV. 
 
 my arrival. Startled at these words, I inquired 
 at what hour Isopel had left, and whither she 
 was gone, and was told that she had left the 
 dingle, with her cart, about two hours after I de- 
 parted ; but where she was gone she the girl did 
 not know. I then asked whether she had left 
 no message, and the girl replied that she had 
 left none, but had merely given directions about 
 the kettle and fire, putting, at the same time, six- 
 pence into her hand. "Very strange, thought 
 I ;" then dismissing the gipsy girl I sat down by 
 the fire. I had no wish for tea, but sat looking 
 on the embers, wondering what could be the 
 motive of the sudden departure of Isopel. " Does 
 she mean to return?" thought I to myself. 
 " Surely she means to return," Hope replied, " or 
 she would not have gone away without leaving 
 any message" "and yet she could scarcely 
 mean to return," muttered Foreboding, " or she 
 would assuredly have left some message with the 
 girl." I then thought to myself what a hard 
 thing it would be, if, after having made up my 
 mind to assume the yoke of matrimony, I should 
 be disappointed of the woman of my choice. 
 " Well, after all," thought I, " I can scarcely be 
 disappointed ; if such an ugly scoundrel as 
 Sylvester had no difficulty in getting such a 
 
Ch. XV.] THE ROMANY RYE. 197 
 
 nice wife as Ursula, surely I, who am not a 
 tenth part so ugly, cannot fail to obtain the 
 hand of Isopel Berners, uncommonly fine damsel 
 though she be. Husbands do not grow upon 
 hedge-rows ; she is merely gone after a little 
 business and will return to-morrow/' 
 
 Comforted in some degree by these hopeful 
 imaginings, I retired to my tent, and went to 
 sleep. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 GLOOMY FOREBODINGS. THE POSTMAN'S MOTHER. THE LETTER. 
 BEARS AND BARONS. THE BEST OP ADVICE. 
 
 NOTHING occurred to me of any particular mo- 
 ment during the following day. Isopel Berners 
 did not return ; but Mr. Petulengro and Ms com- 
 panions came home from the fair early in the 
 morning. When I saw him, which was about 
 midday, I found him with his face bruised and 
 swelled. It appeared that, some time after 
 I had left him, he himself perceived that the 
 jockeys with whom he was playing cards were 
 cheating him and his companion ; a quarrel en- 
 sued, which terminated in a fight between Mr. 
 Petulengro and one of the jockeys, which lasted 
 some time, and in which Mr. Petulengro, though 
 he eventually came off victor, was considerably 
 beaten. His bruises, in conjunction with his 
 pecuniary loss, which amounted to about seven 
 pounds, were the cause of his being much out 
 of humour; before night, however, he had re- 
 
Ch. XVI.] THE EOMANY EYE. 199 
 
 turned to his usual philosophic frame of mind, 
 and, coming up to me as I was walking about, 
 apologized for his behaviour on the preceding 
 day, and assured me that he was determined, 
 from that time forward, never to quarrel with 
 a friend for giving him good advice. 
 
 Two more days passed, and still Isopel Berners 
 did not return. Gloomy thoughts and fore- 
 bodings filled my mind. During the day I 
 wandered about the neighbouring roads in the 
 hopes of catching an early glimpse of her and 
 her returning vehicle ; and at night lay awake, 
 tossing about on my hard couch, listening to the 
 rustle of every leaf, and occasionally thinking 
 that I heard the sound of her wheels upon the 
 distant road. Once at midnight, just as I 
 was about to fall into unconsciousness, I sud- 
 denly started up, for I was convinced that I 
 heard the sound of wheels. I listened most 
 anxiously, and the sound of wheels striking 
 against stones was certainly plain enough. " She 
 comes at last," thought I, and for a few moments 
 I felt as if a mountain had been removed from 
 my breast ; " here she comes at last, now, how 
 shall I receive her ? Oh/' thought I, " I will 
 receive her rather coolly, just as if I was not par- 
 ticularly anxious about her that's the way to 
 
200 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XYI. 
 
 manage these women." The next moment the 
 sound became very loud, rather too loud, I 
 thought, to proceed from her wheels, and then 
 by degrees became fainter. Rushing out of my 
 tent, I hurried up the path to the top of the 
 dingle, where I heard the sound distinctly 
 enough, but it was going from me, and evidently 
 proceeded from something much larger than the 
 cart of Isopel. I could, moreover, hear the 
 stamping of a horse's hoof at a lumbering trot. 
 Those only whose hopes have been wrought up 
 to a high pitch, and then suddenly dashed down, 
 can imagine what I felt at that moment ; and 
 yet when I returned to my lonely tent, and 
 lay down on my hard pallet, the voice of con- 
 science told me that the misery I was then 
 undergoing, I had fully merited, from the unkind 
 manner in which I had intended to receive her, 
 when for a brief minute I supposed that she had 
 returned. 
 
 It was on the morning after this affair, and 
 the fourth, if I forget not, from the time of 
 Isopel's departure, that, as I was seated on my 
 stone at the bottom of the dingle, getting my 
 breakfast, I heard an unknown voice irom the 
 path above apparently that of a person de- 
 scending exclaim, " Here 's a strange place 
 
Ch. XVI.] THE ROMANY RYE. 201 
 
 to bring a letter to ;" and presently an old wo- 
 man, with a belt round her middle, to which was 
 attached a leathern bag, made her appearance, 
 and stood before me. 
 
 "Well, if I ever!" said she, as she looked 
 about her. " My good gentlewoman/' said I, 
 " pray what may you please to want?" " Gentle- 
 woman ! " said the old dame, " please to want ! 
 welly I call that speaking civilly, at any rate. 
 It is true, civil words cost nothing ; nevertheless, 
 we do not always get them. What I please 
 to want is to deliver a letter to a young man in 
 this place ; perhaps you be he V " What 's the 
 name on the letter?" said I, getting up and 
 going to her. " There is no name upon it," said 
 she, taking a letter out of her scrip, and looking 
 at it. " It is directed to the young man in 
 Mumper's Dingle/' " Then it is for me, I make 
 no doubt," said I, stretching out my hand to 
 take it. " Please to pay me ninepence first/' 
 said the old woman. " However," said she, 
 after a moment's thought, " civility is civility, 
 and, being rather a scarce article, should meet 
 with some return. Here 's the letter, young man, 
 and I hope you will pay for it ; for if you do not 
 I must pay the postage myself." " You are the 
 postwoman, I suppose," said I, as I took the 
 
 K 3 
 
202 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XVI. 
 
 letter. " I am the postman's mother," said the 
 old woman ; but as he has a wide beat, I help 
 him as much as I can, and I generally carry 
 letters to places like this, to which he is afraid to 
 come himself/' " You say the postage is nine- 
 pence," said I, " here's a shilling." " Well, I 
 call that honourable." said the old woman, 
 taking the shilling, and putting it into her pocket 
 "here's your change, young man," said she, 
 offering me threepence. " Pray keep that for 
 yourself," said I ; " you deserve it for your 
 trouble." " Well, I call that genteel," said the 
 old woman ; " and as one good turn deserves 
 another, since you look as if you couldn't read, 
 I will read your letter for you. Let's see it ; it's 
 from some young woman or other, I dare say." 
 " Thank you," said I, " but I can read." " All the 
 better for you," said the old woman ; " your being 
 able to read will frequently save you a penny, 
 for that's the charge I generally make for reading 
 letters ; though, as you behaved so genteelly to 
 me, I should have charged you nothing. Well, 
 if you can read, why don't you open the letter, 
 instead of keeping it hanging between your 
 finger and thumb?" "I am in no hurry to 
 open it," said I, with a sigh. The old woman 
 looked at me for a moment " Well, young 
 
Ch. XVI.] THE ROMANY RYE. 203 
 
 man/' said she, " there are some especially 
 those who can read who don't like to open 
 their letters when anybody is by, more especially 
 when they come from young women. Well, I 
 won't intrude upon you, but leave you alone 
 with your letter. I wish it may contain some- 
 thing pleasant. God bless you," and with these 
 words she departed. 
 
 I sat down on my stone, with my letter in my 
 hand. I knew perfectly well that it could have 
 come from no other person than Isopel Berners ; 
 but what did the letter contain? I guessed 
 tolerably well what its purport was an eternal 
 farewell ! yet I was afraid to open the letter, lest 
 my expectation should be confirmed. There I 
 sat with the letter, putting off the evil moment 
 as long as possible. At length I glanced at the 
 direction, which was written in a fine bold hand, 
 and was directed, as the old woman had said, to 
 the young man in " Mumper's Dingle," with the 
 addition, near . . . ., in the county of .... 
 Suddenly the idea occurred to me, that, after all, 
 the letter might not contain an eternal farewell ; 
 and that Isopel might have written, requesting 
 me to join her. Could it be so? "Alas ! no," 
 presently said Foreboding. At last I became 
 ashamed of my weakness. The letter must be 
 
204 THE ROMANY EYE. [Ch. XVI. 
 
 opened sooner or later. Why not at once ? So 
 as the bather who, for a considerable time has 
 stood shivering on the bank, afraid to take the 
 decisive plunge, suddenly takes it, I tore open the 
 letter almost before I was aware. I had no 
 sooner done so than a paper fell out. I exa- 
 mined it ; it contained a lock of bright flaxen 
 hair.. " This is no good sign/' said I, as I thrust 
 the lock and paper into my bosom, and proceeded 
 to read the letter, which ran as follows : 
 
 "TO THE YOUNG MAN IN MUMPER'S DINGLE. 
 
 " SIR, I send these lines, with the hope and 
 trust that they will find you well, even as I am 
 myself at this moment, and in much better 
 spirits, for my own are not such as I could wish 
 they were, being sometimes rather hysterical and 
 vapourish, and at other times, and most often, 
 very low. I am at a sea-port, and am just 
 going on shipboard; and when you get these 
 I shall be on the salt waters, on my way to a 
 distant country, and leaving my own behind me, 
 which I do not expect ever to see again. 
 
 "And now, young man, I will, in the first 
 place, say something about the manner in which 
 I quitted you. It must have seemed somewhat 
 singular to you that I went away without taking 
 
Ch. XVI.] THE ROMANY RYE. 205 
 
 any leave, or giving you the slightest hint that I 
 was going ; but I did not do so without con- 
 siderable reflection. I was afraid that I should 
 not be able to support a leave-taking ; and as 
 you had said that you were determined to go 
 wherever I did, I thought it best not to teU you 
 at all ; for I did not think it advisable that you 
 should go with rne, and I wished to have no 
 dispute. 
 
 " In the second place, I wish to say something 
 about an offer of wedlock which you made me ; 
 perhaps, young man, had you made it at the 
 first period of our acquaintance, I should have 
 accepted it, but you did not, and kept putting 
 off and putting off, and behaving in a very 
 strange manner, tiU I could stand your conduct 
 no longer, but determined upon leaving you and 
 Old England, which last step I had been long 
 thinking about ; so when you made your offer 
 at last, everything was arranged my cart and 
 donkey engaged to be sold and the greater 
 part of my things disposed of. However, young 
 man, when you did make it, I frankly teU you 
 that I had hah a mind to accept it ; at last, 
 however, after very much consideration, I thought 
 it best to leave you for ever, because, for some time 
 past, I had become almost convinced, that though 
 
206 THE ROMANY EYE. [Ch. XVI. 
 
 with a wonderful deal of learning, and exceed- 
 ingly shrewd in some things, you were pray 
 don't be offended at the root mad ! and though 
 mad people, I have been told, sometimes make 
 very good husbands, I was unwilling that your 
 friends, if you had any, should say that Belle 
 Berners, the workhouse girl, took advantage of 
 your infirmity ; for there is no concealing that I 
 was born and bred up in a workhouse; not- 
 withstanding that, my blood is better than your 
 own, and as good as the best ; you having your- 
 self told me that my name is a noble name, and 
 once, if I mistake not, that it was the same word 
 as baron, which is the same thing as bear; and 
 that to be called in old times a bear was con- 
 sidered as a great compliment the bear being a 
 mighty strong animal, on which account our 
 forefathers called all their great fighting-men 
 barons, which is the same as bears. 
 
 " However, setting matters of blood and family 
 entirely aside, many thanks to you, young man, 
 from poor Belle, for the honour you did her in 
 making that same offer ; for, after all, it is an 
 honour to receive an honourable offer, which she 
 could see clearly yours was, with no noriness nor 
 chaff in it ; but, on the contrary, entire sincerity. 
 She assures you that she shall always bear it and 
 
Ch. XVL] THE ROMANY RYE. 207 
 
 yourself in mind, whether on land or water ; and 
 as a proof of the good- will she bears to you, she 
 has sent you a lock of the hair which she wears 
 on her head, which you were often looking at, 
 and were pleased to call flax, which word she 
 supposes you meant as a compliment, even as the 
 old people meant to pass a compliment to their 
 great folks, when they called them bears ; though 
 she cannot help thinking that they might have 
 found an animal as strong as a bear, and some- 
 what less uncouth, to call their great folks after : 
 even as she thinks yourself, amongst your great 
 store of words, might have found something 
 a little more genteel to call her hair after than 
 flax, which, though strong and useful, is rather a 
 coarse and common kind of article. 
 
 " And as another proof of the good-will she 
 bears to you, she sends you, along with the lock, 
 a piece of advice, which is worth all the hair in 
 the world, to say nothing of the flax. 
 
 " Fear God, and take your own part. There 's 
 Bible in that, young man ; see how Moses feared 
 God, and how he took his own part against every- 
 body who meddled with him. And see how 
 David feared God, and took his own part 
 against all the bloody enemies which surrounded 
 him so fear God, young man, and never give 
 
208 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XVI. 
 
 in ! The world can bully, and is fond, provided 
 it sees a man in a kind of difficulty, of getting 
 about Mm, calling him coarse names, and even 
 going so far as to hustle him ; but the world, 
 like all bullies, carries a white feather in its tail, 
 and no sooner sees the man taking off his coat, 
 and offering to fight its best, than it scatters here 
 and there, and is always civil to him afterwards. 
 So when folks are disposed to ill-treat you, young 
 man, say, ( Lord have mercy upon me ! ' and 
 then tip them* Long Melford, to which, as the 
 saying goes, there is nothing comparable for 
 shortness all the world over ; and these last 
 words, young man, are the last you will ever have 
 from her who is, nevertheless, 
 
 " Your affectionate female servant, 
 
 " ISOPEL BERNERS." 
 
 After reading the letter I sat for some time 
 motionless, holding it in my hand. The day- 
 dream in which I had been a little time before 
 indulging, of marrying Isopel Berners, of going 
 with her to America, and having by her a large 
 progeny, who were to assist me in felling trees, 
 cultivating the soil, and who would take care of 
 me when I was old, was now thoroughly dispelled. 
 Isopel had deserted me, and was gone to America 
 
Ch. XVI.] THE ROMANY RYE. 209 
 
 by herself, where, perhaps, she would many some 
 other person, and would bear him a progeny, who 
 would do for him what in my dream I had hoped 
 my progeny by her would do for me. Then 
 the thought came into my head that though she 
 was gone I might follow her to America, but then 
 I thought that if I did I might not find her ; 
 America was a very large place, and I did not 
 know the port to which she was bound ; but I 
 could follow her to the port from which she had 
 sailed, and there possibly discover the port to 
 which she was bound ; but then I did not even 
 know the port from which she had set out, for 
 Isopel had not dated her letter from any place. 
 Suddenly it occurred to me that the post-mark on 
 the letter would tell me from whence it came, so 
 I forthwith looked at the back of the letter, and 
 in the post-mark read the name of a well known 
 and not very distant sea-port. I then knew with 
 tolerable certainty the port where she had em- 
 barked, and I almost determined to follow her, 
 but I almost instantly determined to do no such 
 thing. Isopel Berners had abandoned me, and I 
 would not foUow her ; "perhaps," whispered Pride, 
 " if I overtook her, she would only despise me for 
 running after her; and it also told me pretty 
 roundly that, provided I ran after her, whether I 
 
210 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XVI. 
 
 overtook her or not, I should heartily despise 
 myself/' So I determined not to follow Isopel 
 Berners ; I took her lock of hair, and looked at 
 it, then put it in her letter, which I folded up and 
 carefully stowed away, resolved to keep both for 
 ever, but I determined not to follow her. Two 
 or three times, however, during the day, I wavered 
 in my determination, and was again and again 
 almost tempted to follow her, but every succeeding 
 time the temptation was fainter. In the evening 
 I left the dingle, and sat down with Mr. Petu- 
 lengro and his family by the door of his tent ; Mr. 
 Petulengro soon began talking of the letter which 
 I had received in the morning. " Is it not from 
 Miss Berners, brother ? " said he. I told him it 
 was. "Is she coming back, brother?" "Never," 
 said I ; " she is gone to America, and has deserted 
 me." " I always knew that you two were never 
 destined for each other/' said he. " How did you 
 know that?" I inquired. "The dook told me 
 so, brother ; you are born to be a great traveller." 
 " Well," said I, " if I had gone with her to Ame- 
 rica, as I was thinking of doing, I should have 
 been a great traveller." " You are to travel in 
 another direction, brother," said he. "I wish you 
 would tell me all about my future wanderings," 
 said I. " I can't, brother," said Mr. Petulengro, 
 
Ch. XVI.] THE ROMANY RYE. 211 
 
 " there 's a power of clouds before my eye." 
 " You are a poor seer, after all/' said I, and get- 
 ting up, I retired to my dingle and my tent, 
 where I betook myself to my bed, and there, 
 knowing the worst, and being no longer agitated 
 by apprehension, nor agonized by expectation, I 
 was soon buried in a deep slumber, the first which 
 I had fallen into for several nights. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE PUBLIC-HOUSE. LANDLORD ON HIS LEGS AGAIN. A BLOW IN 
 SEASON. THE WAY OF THE WORLD. THE GRATEFUL MIND. THE 
 HORSE'S NEIGH. 
 
 IT was rather late on the following morning when 
 I awoke. At first I was almost unconscious of 
 what had occurred on the preceding day ; recol- 
 lection, however, by degrees returned, and I felt 
 a deep melancholy coming over me, but perfectly 
 aware that no advantage could be derived from 
 the indulgence of such a feeling, I sprang up, 
 prepared my breakfast, which I ate with a tole- 
 rable appetite, and then left the dingle, and betook 
 myself to the gypsy encampment, where I entered 
 into discourse with various Romanies, both male 
 and female. After some time, feeling myself in 
 better spirits, I determined to pay another visit 
 to the landlord of the public-house. From the 
 position of his affairs when I had last visited him, 
 I entertained rather gloomy ideas with respect to 
 his present circumstances. I imagined that I 
 should either find him alone in his kitchen smoking 
 
Ch. XVIL] THE ROMANY RYE. 213 
 
 a wretched pipe, or in company with some surly 
 bailiff or his follower, whom his friend the brewer 
 had sent into the house in order to take posses- 
 sion of his effects. 
 
 Nothing more entirely differing from either of 
 these anticipations could have presented itself to 
 my view than what I saw about one o'clock in 
 the afternoon, when I entered the house. I had 
 come, though somewhat in want of consolation 
 myself, to offer any consolation which was at my 
 command to my acquaintance Catchpole, and per- 
 haps like many other people who go to a house 
 with "drops of compassion trembling on their 
 eyelids/' I felt rather disappointed at finding that 
 no compassion was necessary. The house was 
 thronged with company, the cries for ale and por- 
 ter, hot brandy and water, cold gin and water, 
 were numerous ; moreover, no desire to receive 
 and not to pay for the landlord's liquids was ma- 
 nifested on the contrary, everybody seemed dis- 
 posed to play the most honourable part: "Land- 
 lord, here 's the money for this glass of brandy and 
 water do me the favour to take it ; ah 1 right, 
 remember I have paid you." " Landlord, here 's 
 the money for the pint of half-and-half four- 
 pence halfpenny, a'n't it ? here 's sixpence ; keep 
 the change confound the change ! " The landlord, 
 
214 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XVII. 
 
 assisted by his niece, bustled about ; his brow erect, 
 his cheeks plumped out, and all his features ex- 
 hibiting a kind of surly satisfaction. Wherever 
 he moved, marks of the most cordial amity were 
 shown him, hands were thrust out to grasp his, nor 
 were looks of respect, admiration, nay almost of 
 adoration, wanting. I observed one fellow, as the 
 landlord advanced, take the pipe out of his mouth, 
 and gaze upon him with a kind of grin of wonder, 
 probably much the same as his ancestor, the Saxon 
 lout of old, put on when he saw his idol Thur 
 dressed in a new kirtle. To avoid, the press, I got 
 into a corner, where, on a couple of chairs sat two 
 respectable-looking individuals, whether farmers 
 or sow-gelders, I know not, but highly respectable- 
 looking, who were discoursing about the landlord. 
 " Such another/' said one, " you will not find in 
 a summer's day/' "No, nor in the whole of 
 England/' said the other. "Tom of Hopton," 
 said the first : " ah ! Tom of Hopton," echoed 
 the other ; " the man who could beat Tom 
 of Hop ton could beat the world/' " I glory 
 in him," said the first. "So do I," said the 
 second, " I '11 back him against the world. Let 
 me hear any one say anything against him, and 
 if I don't . . . ." then, looking at me, he added, 
 "have you anything to say against him, young 
 
Ch. XVII.] THE ROMANY RYE. 215 
 
 man?" " Not a word/' said I, "save that he 
 regularly puts me out/' "He '11 put any one out/' 
 said the man, " any one out of conceit with him- 
 self ;" then, lifting a mug to his mouth, he added, 
 with a hiccough, " I drink his health/' Presently 
 the landlord, as he moved about, observing me, 
 stopped short : " Ah ! " said he, " are you here ? 
 I am glad to see you, come this way/' " Stand 
 back," said he to his company, as I followed him 
 to the bar, " stand back for me and this gentle- 
 man." Two or three young fellows were in the 
 bar, seemingly sporting yokels, drinking sherry 
 and smoking. " Come, gentlemen," said the 
 landlord, " clear the bar, I must have a clear bar 
 for me and my friend here." " Landlord, what 
 will you take," said one, " a glass of sherry ? 
 I know you like it." " . . . . sherry and you 
 too," said the landlord, " I want neither sherry 
 nor yourself ; didn't you hear what I told you ? " 
 " All right, old fellow," said the other, shaking 
 the landlord by the hand, " all right, don't wish 
 to intrude but I suppose when you and your 
 Mend have done, I may come in again ; " then, 
 with " a sarvant, sir," to me, he took himself into 
 the kitchen, followed by the rest of the sporting 
 yokels. 
 
 Thereupon the landlord, taking a bottle of ale 
 from a basket, uncorked it, and pouring the con- 
 
THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XVII. 
 
 tents into two large glasses, handed me one, and 
 motioning me to sit down, placed himself by 
 me ; then, emptying his own glass at a draught, 
 he gave a kind of grunt of satisfaction, and fix- 
 ing his eyes upon the opposite side of the bar, 
 remained motionless, without saying a word, 
 buried apparently in important cogitations. With 
 respect to myself, I swallowed my ale more 
 leisurely, and was about to address my Mend, 
 when his niece, coming into the bar, said that 
 more and more customers were arriving, and how 
 she should supply their wants she did not know, 
 unless her uncle would get up and help her. 
 
 " The customers ! " said the landlord, " let the 
 scoundrels wait till you have time to serve them, 
 or till I have leisure to see after them/' "The 
 kitchen won't contain half of them/' said his 
 niece. " Then let them sit out abroad," said the 
 landlord. " But there are not benches enough, 
 uncle," said the niece. " Then let them stand or 
 sit on the ground/' said the uncle, " what care I ? 
 I '11 let them know that the man who beat Tom of 
 Hopton stands as well again on his legs as ever." 
 Then opening a side door which led from the 
 bar into the back yard, he beckoned me to follow 
 him. "You treat your customers in rather a 
 cavalier manner," said I, when we were alone to- 
 gether in the yard. 
 
Ch. XVII.] THE KOMANY RYE. 217 
 
 "Don't I ?" said the landlord; "and I TL treat 
 them more so yet ; now I have got the whip- 
 hand of the rascals I intend to keep it. I dare 
 say you are a bit surprised with regard to the 
 change which has come over things since you were 
 last here. I '11 tell you how it happened. You 
 remember in what a desperate condition you 
 found me, thinking of changing my religion, 
 selling my soul to the man in black, and then 
 going and hanging myself like Pontius Pilate ; 
 and I dare say you can't have forgotten how you 
 gave me good advice, made me drink ale, and give 
 up sherry. Well, after you were gone, I felt all 
 the better for your talk, and what you had made 
 rne drink, and it was a mercy that I did feel 
 better ; for my niece was gone out, poor thing, 
 and I was left alone in the house, without a soul 
 to look at, or to keep me from doing myself a 
 mischief in case I was so inclined. Well, things 
 wore on in this way till it grew dusk, when in 
 came that blackguard Hunter with his train to 
 drink at my expense, and to insult me as usual ; 
 there were more than a dozen of them, and a 
 pretty set they looked. Well, they ordered about 
 in a very free and easy manner for upwards 
 of an hour and a half, occasionally sneering and 
 jeering at me, as they had been in the habit of 
 
 VOL. I. L 
 
218 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ck. XVII. 
 
 doing for some time past ; so, as I said before, 
 tilings wore on, and other customers came in, 
 who, though they did not belong to Hunter's 
 gang, also passed off their jokes upon me ; for, 
 as you perhaps know, we English are a set of 
 low hounds, who will always take part with the 
 many by way of making ourselves safe, and cur- 
 rying favour with the stronger side. I said 
 little or nothing, for my spirits had again be- 
 come very low, and I was verily scared and 
 afraid. All of a sudden I thought of the ale 
 which I had drank in the morning, and of the 
 good it did me then, so I went into the bar, 
 opened another bottle, took a glass, and felt 
 better ; so I took another, and feeling better 
 still, I went back into the kitchen just as 
 Hunter and his crew were about leaving. ' Mr. 
 Hunter/ said I, ' you and your people will please 
 to pay me for what you have had ? ' ' What do 
 you mean by my people V said he, with an oath. 
 ' Ah ! what do you mean by calling us his 
 people ? ' said the clan. ' We are nobody's 
 people ; ' and then there was a pretty load of 
 abuse, and threatening to serve me out. ' Well/ 
 said I, ' I was perhaps wrong to call them your 
 people, and beg your pardon and theirs. And 
 now you will please to pay me for what you 
 
Ch. XVII.] THE EOMANY RYE. 219 
 
 have had yourself, and afterwards I can settle 
 with them/ ' I shall pay you when I think 
 fit/ said Hunter. 'Yes/ said the rest, 'and so 
 shall we. We shall pay you when we think fit/ 
 ' I tell you what/ said Hunter, ' I conceives I 
 do such an old fool as you an honour when I 
 comes into his house and drinks his beer, and 
 goes away without paying for it ; ' and then 
 there was a roar of laughter from everybody, 
 and almost all said the same thing. 'Now do 
 you please to pay me, Mr. Hunter V said I. 
 ' Pay you ! ' said Hunter ; ' pay you ! Yes, 
 here 's the pay / and thereupon he held out his 
 thumb, twirling it round till it just touched 
 my nose. I can't tell you what I felt that 
 moment ; a kind of madhouse thrill came upon 
 me, and all I know is, that I bent back as far 
 as I could, then lunging out, struck him under 
 the ear, sending him reeling two or three yards, 
 when he feh 1 on the floor. I wish you had but 
 seen how my company looked at me and at 
 each other. One or two of the clan went to 
 raise Hunter, and get him to fight, but it was 
 no go ; though he was not killed, he had had 
 enough for that evening. Oh, I wish you had 
 seen my customers ; those who did not belong 
 to the clan, but had taken part with them, and 
 
 L 2 
 
220 ,THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XVII. 
 
 helped to jeer and flout me, now came and 
 shook me by the hand, wishing me joy, and 
 saying as how ' I was a brave fellow, and had 
 served the bully right ! ' As for the clan, they 
 all said Hunter was bound to do me justice ; so 
 they made him pay me what he owed for himself, 
 and the reckoning of those among them who 
 said they had no money. Two or three of them 
 then led him away, while the rest stayed behind, 
 and flattered me, and worshipped me, and called 
 Hunter all kinds of dogs' names. What do you 
 think of that?" 
 
 " Why," said I, " it makes good what I read 
 in a letter which I received yesterday. It is just 
 the way of the world/' 
 
 " A Vt it ! " said the landlord. " Well, that 
 a Vt all ; let me go on. Good fortune never yet 
 came alone. In about an hour comes home my 
 poor niece, almost in high sterricks with joy, 
 smiling and sobbing. She had been to the 
 clergyman of M . . . ., the great preacher, to 
 whose church she was in the habit of going, and 
 to whose daughters she was well known ; and to 
 him she told a lamentable tale about my dis- 
 tresses, and about the snares which had been laid 
 for my soul ; and so well did she plead my cause, 
 and so strong did the young ladies back all she 
 
Ch. XVIL] THE KOMANY EYE. 221 
 
 said, that the good clergyman promised to stand 
 my friend, and to lend me sufficient money to 
 satisfy the brewer, and to get my soul out of the 
 snares of the man in black ; and sure enough the 
 next morning the two young ladies brought me 
 the fifty pounds, which I forthwith carried to the 
 brewer, who was monstrously civil, saying that 
 he hoped any little misunderstanding we had 
 had would not prevent our being good friends in 
 future. That aVt all ; the people of the neigh- 
 bouring country hearing as if by art witchcraft 
 that I had licked Hunter, and was on good terms 
 with the brewer, forthwith began to come in 
 crowds to look at me, pay me homage, and be 
 my customers. Moreover, fifty scoundrels who 
 owed me money, and who would have seen me 
 starve rather than help me as long as they con- 
 sidered me a down pin, remembered their debts, 
 and came and paid me more than they owed. 
 That aVt all ; the brewer, being about to esta- 
 blish a stage-coach and three, to run across the 
 country, says it shall stop and change horses at 
 my house, and the passengers breakfast and sup 
 as it goes and returns. He wishes me whom 
 he calls the best man in England to give his 
 son lessons in boxing, which he says he considers 
 a fine manly English art, and a great defence 
 
222 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XVII. 
 
 against Popery notwithstanding that only a 
 month ago, when he considered me a down pin, 
 he was in the habit of railing against it as a 
 blackguard practice, and against me as a black- 
 guard for following it : so I am going to com- 
 mence with young hopeful to-morrow/' 
 
 " I really cannot help congratulating you on 
 your good fortune/' said I. 
 
 "That aVt all/' said the landlord. "This 
 very morning the folks of our parish made me 
 churchwarden, which they would no more have 
 done a month ago, when they considered me a 
 down pin, than they . . . /' 
 
 " Mercy upon us ! " said I, " if fortune pours 
 in upon you in this manner, who knows but 
 that within a year they may make you justice of 
 the peace/' 
 
 " Who knows, indeed ! " said the landlord. 
 " Well, I will prove myself worthy of my good 
 luck by showing the grateful mind not to those 
 who would be kind to me now, but to those who 
 were, when the days were rather gloomy. My 
 customers shall have abundance of rough lan- 
 guage, but I'll knock any one down who says 
 anything against the clergyman who lent me the 
 fifty pounds, or against the Church of England, 
 of which he is parson and I am churchwarden. 
 
Ch. XVIL] THE ROMANY RYE. 223 
 
 I am also ready to do anything in reason for him 
 who paid me for the ale he drank, when I 
 shouldn't have had the heart to collar him for the 
 money had he refused to pay ; who never jeered 
 or flouted me like the rest of my customers when 
 I was a down pin and though he refused to 
 fight cross for me, was never cross with me, but 
 listened to all I had to say, and gave me all 
 kinds of good advice. Now who do you think 
 I mean by this last ? why, who but yourself 
 who on earth but yourself ? The parson is a good 
 man and a great preacher, and I'll knock any- 
 body down who says to the contrary ; and I 
 mention him first, because why ; he 's a gentle- 
 man, and you a tinker. But I am by no means 
 sure you are not the best fiiend of the two ; for 
 I doubt, do you see, whether I should have had 
 the fifty pounds but for you. You persuaded 
 me to give up that silly drink they call sherry, 
 and drink ale ; and what was it but drinking ale 
 which gave me courage to knock down that fel- 
 low Hunter and knocking him down was, I 
 verily believe, the turning point of my disorder. 
 God don't love those who won't strike out for 
 themselves ; and as far as I can calculate with 
 respect to time, it was just the moment after I 
 had knocked down Hunter, that the parson con- 
 
224 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XVII' 
 
 sented to lend me the money, and everything 
 began to grow civil to me. So, dash my buttons 
 if I show the ungrateful mind to you ! I don't 
 offer to knock anybody down for you, because 
 why I dare say you can knock a body down 
 yourself; but I'll offer something more to the 
 purpose ; as my business is wonderfully on the 
 increase, I shall want somebody to help me in 
 serving my customers, and keeping them in 
 order. If you choose to come and serve for 
 your board, and what they'll give you, give me 
 your fist ; or if you like ten shillings a week 
 better than their sixpences and ha'pence, only 
 say so though, to be open with you, I believe 
 you would make twice ten shillings out of them 
 the sneaking, fawning, curry-favouring humbugs ! " 
 
 " I am much obliged to you," said I, " for 
 your handsome offer, which, however, I am 
 obliged to decline." 
 
 " Why so ?" said the landlord. 
 
 " I am not fit for service," said I ; " more- 
 over, I am about to leave this part of the coun- 
 try." As I spoke, a horse neighed in the stable. 
 '" What horse is that?" said I. 
 
 " It belongs to a cousin of mine, who put it 
 into my hands yesterday, in hopes that I might 
 get rid of it for him, though he would no more 
 
Ch. XVII.] THE ROMANY RYE. 225 
 
 have done so a week ago, when he considered me 
 a down pin, than he would have given the horse 
 away. Are you fond of horses ?" 
 
 " Very much/' said I. 
 
 " Then come and look at it." He led me 
 into the stable, where, in a stall, stood a noble- 
 looking animal. 
 
 " Dear me/' said I, " I saw this horse at 
 .'. . . fair/' 
 
 "Like enough," said the landlord; "he was 
 there, and was offered for seventy pounds, but 
 didn't find a bidder at any price. What do you 
 think of him?" 
 
 " He's a splendid creature." 
 
 " I am no judge of horses," said the landlord ; 
 "but I am told he's a first-rate trotter, good 
 leaper, and has some of the blood of Syntax. 
 What does all that signify ? the game is against 
 his master, who is a down pin, is thinking of 
 emigrating, and wants money confoundedly. He 
 asked seventy pounds at the fair ; but, between 
 ourselves, he would be glad to take fifty here." 
 
 " I almost wish," said I, " that I were a rich 
 squire." 
 
 " You would buy him then," said the land- 
 lord. Here he mused for some time, with a 
 very profound look. " It would be a rum tiling," 
 
 L 3 
 
226 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XVII. 
 
 said he, " if, some time or other, that horse 
 should come into your hands. Didn't you hear 
 how he neighed when you talked about leaving 
 the country. My granny was a wise woman, 
 and was up to all kind of signs and wonders, 
 sounds and noises, the interpretation of the lan- 
 guage of birds and animals, crowing and lowing, 
 neighing and braying. If she had been here, 
 she would have said at once that that horse was 
 fated to carry you away. On that point, how- 
 ever, I can say nothing, for under fifty pounds no 
 one can have him. Are you taking that money 
 out of your pocket to pay me for the ale ? That 
 won't do ; nothing to pay ; I invited you this 
 tune. Now if you are going, you had best get 
 into the road through the yard-gate. I won't 
 trouble you to make your way through the 
 kitchen and my fine- weather company confound 
 them!" 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 MR. PETULENGRO'S DEVICE. THE LEATHERN PURSE. CONSENT TO 
 PURCHASE A HORSE. 
 
 As I returned along the road I met Mr. Petu- 
 lengro and one of his companions, who told me 
 that they were bound for the public-house ; 
 whereupon I informed Jasper how I had seen 
 in the stable the horse which we had admired at 
 the fair. " I shouldn't wonder if you buy that 
 horse after all, brother," said Mr. Petulengro. 
 "With a smile at the absurdity of such a suppo- 
 sition, I left him and his companion, and betook 
 myself to the dingle. In the evening I received 
 a visit from Mr. Petulengro, who forthwith com- 
 menced talking about the horse, which he had 
 again seen, the landlord having shown it to him 
 on learning that he was a friend of mine. He 
 told me that the horse pleased him more than 
 ever, he having examined his points with more 
 accuracy than he had an opportunity of doing on 
 the first occasion, concluding by pressing me to 
 
228 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XVIII. 
 
 buy him. I begged him to desist from such fool- 
 ish importunity, assuring him that I had never 
 so much money in all my life as would enable 
 me to purchase the horse. Whilst this discourse 
 was going on, Mr. Petulengro and myself were 
 standing together in the midst of the dingle. 
 Suddenly he began to move round me in a very 
 singular manner, making strange motions with 
 liis hands, and frightful contortions with his fea- 
 tures, till I became alarmed, and asked him 
 whether he had not lost his senses? Where- 
 upon, ceasing his movements and contortions, he 
 assured me that he had not, but had merely been 
 seized with a slight dizziness, and then once more 
 returned to the, subject of the horse. Feeling 
 myself very angry, I told him that if he con- 
 tinued persecuting me in this manner, I should 
 be obliged to quarrel with him ; adding, that I 
 believed his only motive for asking me to buy 
 the animal was to insult my poverty. " Pretty 
 poverty," said he, " with fifty pounds in your 
 pocket ; however, I have heard say that it is 
 always the custom of your rich people to talk of 
 their poverty, more especially when they wish to 
 avoid laying out money/'' Surprised at his saying 
 that I had fifty pounds in my pocket, I asked 
 him what he meant ; whereupon he told me that 
 
Ch. XVIII.] THE EOMANY RYE. 229 
 
 he was very sure that I had fifty pounds in my 
 pocket, offering to lay me five shillings to that 
 effect. " Done ! " said I ; " I have scarcely more 
 than the fifth part of what you say." " I know 
 better, brother/' said Mr. Petulengro ; " and if 
 you only pull out what you have in the pocket 
 of 3'our slop, I am sure you will have lost your 
 wager/' Putting my hand into the pocket, I 
 felt something which I had never felt there 
 before, and pulling it out, perceived that it was 
 a clumsy leathern purse, which I found, on open- 
 ing, contained four ten-pound notes, and several 
 pieces of gold. " Didn't I tell you so, brother ?" 
 said Mr. Petulengro. " Now, in the first place, 
 please to pay me the five shillings you have 
 lost/' "This is only a foolish piece of plea- 
 santry/' said I ; " you put it into my pocket 
 whilst you were moving about me, making faces 
 like a distracted person. Here, take your purse 
 back." " I ?" said Mr. Petulengro, " not I, in- 
 deed ! don't think I am such a fool. I have 
 won my wager, so pay me the five shillings, 
 brother." " Do drop this folly," said I, " and 
 take your purse ;" and I flung it on the ground. 
 " Brother," said Mr. Petuleiigro, " you were 
 talking of quarrelling with me just now. I tell 
 you now one thing, which is, that if you do not 
 
230 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XVIII. 
 
 take back the purse, I will quarrel with you ; 
 and it shall be for good and all. Ill drop your 
 acquaintance, no longer call you my pal, and not 
 even say sarshan to you when I meet you by 
 the road-side. Hir mi diblis I never will." I 
 saw by Jasper's look and tone that he was in 
 earnest, and, as I had really a regard for the 
 strange being, I scarcely knew what to do. 
 " Now, be persuaded, brother/' said Mr. Petu- 
 lengro, taking up the purse, and handing it to 
 me ; " be persuaded ; put the purse into your 
 pocket, and buy the horse." " Well/' said I, 
 " if I did so, would you acknowledge the horse 
 to be yours, and receive the money again as soon 
 as I should be able to repay you ?" 
 
 " I would, brother, I would/' said he ; " re- 
 turn me the money as soon as you please, pro- 
 vided you buy the horse." " What motive have 
 you for wishing me to buy that horse?" said I. 
 " He 's to be sold for fifty pounds," said Jasper, 
 " and is worth four times that sum ; " though, 
 like many a splendid bargain, he is now going 
 a begging ; buy him, and I 'm confident that, in 
 a little time, a grand gentleman of your appear- 
 ance may have anything he asks for him, and 
 found a fortune by his means. Moreover, bro- 
 ther, I want to dispose of this fifty pounds in a 
 
Ch. XVIIL] THE ROMANY RYE. 231 
 
 safe manner. If you don't take it, I shall fool it 
 away in no time, perhaps at card-playing, for 
 you saw how I was cheated by those blackguard 
 jockeys the other day we gyptians don't know 
 how to take care of money : our best plan when 
 we have got a handful of guineas is to make 
 buttons with them ; but I have plenty of golden 
 buttons, and don't wish to be troubled with more, 
 so you can do me no greater favour than vesting 
 the money in this speculation, by which my 
 mind will be relieved of considerable care and 
 trouble for some time at least." 
 
 Perceiving that I still hesitated, he said, 
 " Perhaps, brother, you think that I did not come 
 honestly by the money : by the honestest manner 
 in the world, brother, for it is the money I earnt 
 by fighting in the ring : I did not steal it, 
 brother, nor did I get it by disposing of spa- 
 vined donkeys, or glandered ponies nor is it, 
 brother, the profits of my wife's witchcraft and 
 dukkerin." 
 
 " But," said I, " you had better employ it in 
 your traffic." " I have plenty of money for my 
 traffic, independent of this capital," said Mr. 
 Petulengro ; "ay, brother, and enough besides to 
 back the husband of my wife's sister, Sylvester, 
 
232 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XVIII. 
 
 against Slammocks of the Chong gav for twenty 
 pounds, which I am thinking of doing/' 
 
 "But," said I, "after all, the horse may have 
 found another purchaser by this time." "Not 
 he," said Mr. Petulengro, " there is nobody in 
 this neighbourhood to purchase a horse like that, 
 unless it be your lordship so take the money, 
 brother," and he thrust the purse into my hand. 
 Allowing myself to be persuaded, I kept pos- 
 session of the purse. "Are you satisfied now?" 
 said I. " By no means, brother," said Mr. Petu- 
 lengro, " you will please to pay me the five shil- 
 lings which you lost to me." " Why," said I, 
 " the fifty pounds which I found in my pocket 
 were not mine, but put in by yourseE" " That 's 
 nothing to do with the matter, brother," said Mr. 
 Petulengro ; " I betted you five shillings that you 
 had fifty pounds in your pocket, which sum you 
 had : I did not say that they were your own, but 
 merely that you had fifty pounds ; you will 
 therefore pay me, brother, or I shall not consider 
 you an honourable man." Not wishing to have 
 any dispute about such a matter, 1 took five 
 shillings out of my under pocket, and gave them 
 to him. Mr. Petulengro took the money with 
 great glee, observing " These five shillings I 
 
Ch. XVIIL] THE EOMANY EYE. 233 
 
 will take to the public-house forthwith, and spend 
 in drinking with four of my brethren, and doing 
 so will give me an opportunity of telling the land- 
 lord that I have found a customer for his horse, 
 and that you are the man. It will be as well to 
 secure the horse as soon as possible ; for though 
 the dook tells me that the horse is intended for 
 you, I have now and then found that the dook is, 
 like myself, somewhat given to lying." 
 
 He then departed, and I remained alone in the 
 dingle. I thought at first that I had committed a 
 great piece of folly in consenting to purchase this 
 horse ; I might find no desirable purchaser for 
 liim until the money in my possession should be 
 totally exhausted, and then I might be compelled 
 to sell him for half the price I had given for him, 
 or be even glad to find a person who would re- 
 ceive him at a gift ; I should then remain sans 
 horse, and indebted to Mr. Petulengro. Never- 
 theless, it was possible that I might sell the 
 horse very advantageously, and by so doing, ob- 
 tain a fund sufficient to enable me to execute 
 some grand enterprise or other. My present way 
 of life afforded no prospect of support, whereas 
 the purchase of the horse did afford a possibility 
 of bettering my condition, so, after all, had I not 
 done right in consenting to purchase the horse ? 
 
234 THE ROMANY 11 YE. [Ch. XVIII. 
 
 the purchase was to be made with another per- 
 son's property it is true, and I did not exactly 
 like the idea of speculating with another person's 
 property, but Mr. Petulengro had thrust his 
 money upon me, and if I lost his money, he 
 could have no one but himself to blame ; so I 
 persuaded myself that I had upon the whole done 
 right, and having come to that persuasion I soon 
 began to enjoy the idea of finding myself on 
 horseback again, and figured to myself all kinds 
 of strange adventures which I should meet with 
 on the roads before the horse and I should part 
 company. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 TRYING THE HORSE. THE PEATS OF TAVVNO. MAN WITH THE 
 RED WAISTCOAT. DISPOSAL OF PROPERTY. 
 
 I SAW nothing more of Mr. Petulengro that even- 
 ing on the morrow, however, he came and in- 
 formed me that he had secured the horse for me, 
 and that I was to go and pay for it at noon. At 
 the hour appointed, therefore, I went with Mr. 
 Petulengro and Tawno to the public, where, 
 as before, there was a crowd of company. The 
 landlord received us in the bar with marks of 
 much satisfaction and esteem, made us sit down, 
 and treated us with some excellent mild draught 
 ale. "Who do you think has been here this 
 morning?" he said to me, "why that fellow in 
 black, who came to carry me off to a house of 
 Popish devotion, where I was to pass seven days 
 and nights in meditation, as I think he called it, 
 before I publicly renounced the religion of my 
 country. I read him a pretty lecture, calling 
 him several unhandsome names, and asking him 
 
236 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XIX. 
 
 what he meant by attempting to seduce a church- 
 warden of the Church of England. I tell you 
 what, he ran some danger ; for some of my cus- 
 tomers, learning his errand, laid hold on him, and 
 were about to toss him in a blanket, and then 
 duck him in the horse-pond. I, however, inter- 
 fered, and said, " that what he came about was 
 between me and him, and that it was no business 
 of theirs/' To tell you the truth, I felt pity for 
 the poor devil, more especially when I considered 
 that they merely sided against him because they 
 thought him the weakest, and that they would 
 have wanted to serve me in the same manner 
 had they considered me a down pin ; so I rescued 
 him from their hands, told him not to be afraid, 
 for that nobody should touch him, and offered to 
 treat him to some cold gin and water with a lump 
 of sugar in it ; and, on his refusing, told him that 
 he had better make himself scarce, which he did, 
 and I hope I shall never see him again. So I 
 suppose you are come for the horse ; mercy upon 
 us ! who would have thought you would have 
 become the purchaser? The horse, however, 
 seemed to know it by his neighing. How did 
 you ever come by the money ? however, that 's 
 no matter of mine. I suppose you are strongly 
 backed by certain friends you have/' 
 
Ch. XIX.] THE KOMANY EYE. 237 
 
 I informed the landlord that he was right in 
 supposing that I came for the horse, but that, 
 before I paid for him, I should wish to prove his 
 capabilities. " With all my heart, " said the 
 landlord. "You shall mount him this moment." 
 Then going into the stable, he saddled and 
 bridled the horse, and presently brought him out 
 before the door. I mounted him, Mr. Petu- 
 lengro putting a heavy whip into my hand, and 
 saying a few words to me in his own mysterious 
 language. "The horse wants no whip/' said the 
 landlord. " Hold your tongue, daddy/' said Mr. 
 Petulengro. " My pal knows quite well what to 
 do with the whip, he 's not going to beat the 
 horse with it/' About four hundred yards from 
 the house there was a hill, to the foot of which 
 the road ran almost on a perfect level ; towards 
 the foot of this hill I trotted the horse, who set 
 off at a long, swift pace, seemingly at the rate of 
 about sixteen miles an hour. On reaching the 
 foot of the hill, I wheeled the animal round, and 
 trotted him towards the house the horse sped 
 faster than before. Ere he had advanced a hun- 
 dred yards, I took off my hat, in obedience to 
 the advice which Mr. Petulengro had given me, 
 in his own language, and holding it over the 
 horse's head, commenced drumming on the crown 
 
238 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XIX. 
 
 with the knob of the whip ; the horse gave a 
 slight start, but instantly recovering himself, con- 
 tinued his trot till he arrived at the door of the 
 public-house, amidst the acclamations of the com- 
 pany, who had aU rushed out of the house to 
 be spectators of what was going on. "I see 
 now what you wanted the whip for/' said the 
 landlord, "and sure enough, that drumming on 
 your hat was no bad way of learning whether 
 the horse was quiet or not. Well, did you ever 
 see a more quiet horse, or a better trotter ?" " My 
 cob shall trot against him/' said a fellow dressed 
 in velveteen, mounted on a low powerful-looking 
 animal. " My cob shall trot against him to the 
 hill and back again come on ! " We both 
 started ; the cob kept up gallantly against the 
 horse for about half the way to the hill, when he 
 began to lose ground ; at the foot of the hill he 
 was about fifteen yards behind. Whereupon, 
 I turned slowly and waited for him. We then 
 set off towards the house, but now the cob had 
 no chance, being at least twenty yards behind 
 when I reached the door. This running of 
 horses, the wild uncouth forms around me, and 
 the ale and beer which were being guzzled from 
 pots and flagons, put me wonderfully in mind 
 of the ancient horse-races of the heathen north. 
 
Ch. XIX.] THE ROMANY RYE. 239 
 
 I almost imagined myself Gunnar of Hlitharend 
 at the race of .... 
 
 "Are you satisfied?" said the landlord. 
 "Didn't you tell me that he could leap?" I de- 
 manded. " I am told he can/' said the landlord ; 
 "but I can't consent that he should be tried in 
 that way, as he might be damaged." "That's 
 right ! " said Mr. Petulengro, " don't trust my 
 pal to leap that horse, he '11 merely fling him 
 down, and break his neck and his own. There 's 
 a better man than he close by ; let him get on 
 his back and leap him." "You mean yourself, 
 I suppose," said the landlord. " Well, I call 
 that talking modestly, and nothing becomes a 
 young man more than modesty." " It a'n't I, 
 daddy," said Mr. Petulengro. " Here 's the man," 
 said he, pointing to Tawno. " Here 's the horse- 
 leaper of the world!" "You mean the horse- 
 back breaker," said the landlord. " That big fel- 
 low would break down my cousin's horse." 
 "Why he weighs only sixteen stone," said Mr. 
 Petulengro. "And his sixteen stone, with his 
 way of handling a horse, does not press so much 
 as any other one's thirteen. Only let him get 
 on the horse's back, and you '11 see what he can 
 do!" "No," said the landlord, "it won't do." 
 Whereupon Mr. Petulengro became very much 
 
240 THE ROMANY RYE. [Cli. XIX. 
 
 excited ; and pulling out a handful of money, said, 
 " I 'II tell you what, I '11 forfeit these guineas if my 
 black pal there does the horse any kind of damage ; 
 duck me in the horse-pond if I donV " Well," 
 said the landlord, "for the sport of the tiling I 
 consent, so let your white pal get down, and 
 your black pal mount as soon as he pleases/' I felt 
 rather mortified at Mr. Petulengro's interference ; 
 and showed no disposition to quit my seat ; 
 whereupon he came up to me and said, " Now, 
 brother, do get out of the saddle you are no 
 bad hand at trotting, I am willing to acknow- 
 ledge that ; but at leaping a horse there is no 
 one like Tawno. Let every dog be praised for 
 his own gift. You have been showing off in 
 your line for the last half hour ; now do give 
 Tawno a chance of exhibiting a little ; poor 
 fellow, he hasn't often a chance of exhibiting, as 
 his wife keeps him so much in sight." Not 
 wishing to appear desirous of engrossing the 
 public attention, and feeling rather desirous to 
 see how Tawno, of whose exploits in leaping 
 horses I had frequently heard, would acquit him- 
 self in the affair, I at length dismounted, and 
 Tawno, at a bound, leaped into the saddle, where 
 he really looked like Gunnar of Hlitharend, save 
 and except that the complexion of Gunnar was 
 
Ch. XIX.] THE ROMANY RYE. 241 
 
 florid, whereas that of Tawno was of nearly 
 Mulatto darkness ; and that all Tawno 's features 
 were cast in the Grecian model, whereas Gunnar 
 had a snub nose. " There 's a leaping-bar behind 
 the house/' said the landlord. "Leaping-bar!" 
 said Mr. Petulengro, scornfully. " Do you think 
 my black pal ever rides at a leaping-bar ? No 
 more than at a windle-straw. Leap over that 
 meadow wall, Tawno/' Just past the house, in 
 the direction in which I had been trotting, was a 
 wall about four feet high, beyond which was a 
 small meadow. Tawno rode the horse gently up 
 to the wall, permitted him to look over, then 
 backed him for about ten yards, and pressing his 
 calves against the horse's sides, he loosed the 
 rein, and the horse launching forward, took the 
 leap in gallant style. " Well done, man and 
 horse ! " said Mr. Petulengro, " now come back, 
 Tawno." The leap from the side of the meadow 
 was, however, somewhat higher ; and the horse, 
 when pushed at it, at first turned away ; where- 
 upon Tawno backed him to a greater distance, 
 pushed the horse to a full gallop, giving a wild 
 cry ; whereupon the horse again took the wall, 
 slightly grazing one of his legs against it. "A 
 near thing," said the landlord, " but a good leap. 
 Now, no more leaping, so long as I have control 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
242 THE ROMANY II YE. [Ch. XIX. 
 
 over the animal/' The horse was then led back 
 to the stable ; and the landlord, myself, and com- 
 panions going into the bar, I paid down the 
 money for the horse. 
 
 Scarcely was the bargain concluded, when 
 two or three of the company began to envy 
 me the possession of the horse, and forcing their 
 way into the bar, with much noise and clamour, 
 said that the horse had been sold too cheap. 
 One fellow, in particular, with a red waistcoat, 
 the son of a wealthy farmer, said that if he had 
 but known that the horse had been so good a 
 one, he would have bought it at the first price 
 asked for it, which he was now willing to pay, 
 that is to-morrow, supposing " supposing your 
 father will let you have the money/' said the 
 landlord, " which, after all, might not be the case ; 
 but, however that may be, it is too late now. I 
 think myself the horse has been sold for too 
 little money, but if so all the better for the 
 young man, who came forward when no other 
 body did with his money in his hand. There, 
 take yourselves out of my bar, said he to the 
 fellows ; " and a pretty scoundrel you/' said he to 
 the man of the red waistcoat, " to say the horse 
 has been sold too cheap, why, it was only yes- 
 terday you said he was good for nothing, and 
 
Ch. XIX.] THE ROMANY RYE. 243 
 
 were passing all kinds of jokes at him. Take 
 yourself out of my bar, I say, you and all of 
 you," and he turned the fellows out. I then 
 asked the landlord whether he would permit the 
 horse to remain in the stable for a short time, 
 provided I paid for his entertainment ; and on 
 his willingly consenting, I treated my friends 
 with ale, and then returned with them to the 
 encampment. 
 
 That evening I informed Mr. Petulengro and 
 his party that on the morrow I intended to 
 mount my horse, and leave that part of the 
 country in quest of adventures ; inquiring of 
 Jasper where, in the event of my selling the 
 horse advantageously, I might meet with him, 
 and repay the money I had borrowed of him ; 
 whereupon Mr. Petulengro informed me that 
 in about ten weeks I might find him at a cer- 
 tain place at the Chong gav. I then stated 
 that as I could not well carry with me the pro- 
 perty which I possessed in the dingle, which 
 after all was of no considerable value, I had 
 resolved to bestow the said property, namely, 
 the pony, tent, tinker-tools, &c., on Ursula and 
 her husband, partly because they were poor, and 
 partly on account of the great kindness which I 
 bore to Ursula, from whom I had, on various 
 
 M 2 
 
244 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XIX. 
 
 occasions, experienced all manner of civility, 
 particularly in regard to crabbed words. On 
 hearing this intelligence, Ursula returned many 
 thanks to her gentle brother as she called me, 
 and Sylvester was so overjoyed that, casting 
 aside his usual phlegm, he said I was the best 
 friend he had ever had in the world, and in 
 testimony of his gratitude swore that he would 
 permit me to give his wife a choomer in the 
 presence of the whole company, which offer, 
 however, met with a very mortifying reception ; 
 the company frowning disapprobation, Ursula 
 protesting against anything of the kind, and I 
 myself showing no forwardness to avail myself 
 of it, having inherited from nature a consider- 
 able fund of modesty, to which was added no 
 slight store acquired in the course of my Irish 
 education. I passed that night alone in the 
 dingle in a very melancholy manner, with little 
 or no sleep, thinking of Isopel Berners ; and in 
 the morning when I quitted it I shed several 
 tears, as I reflected that I should probably never 
 again see the spot where I had passed so many 
 hours in her company. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 FAREWELL TO THE ROMANS. THE LANDLORD AND HIS NIECE. 
 SET OUT AS A TRAVELLER. 
 
 ON reaching the plain above, I found my Romany 
 friends breakfasting, and on being asked by Mr. 
 Petulengro to join them, I accepted the invita- 
 tion. No sooner was breakfast over than I 
 informed Ursula and her husband that they 
 would find the property, which I had promised 
 them, below in the dingle, commending the little 
 pony Ambrol to their best care. I took leave 
 of the whole company, which was itself about 
 to break up camp and to depart in the direction 
 of London, and made the best of my way to 
 the public-house. I had a small bundle in my 
 hand, and was dressed in the same manner as 
 when I departed from London, having left my 
 waggoner's slop with the other effects in the 
 dingle. On arriving at the public-house, I 
 informed the landlord that I was come for my 
 horse, inquiring, at the same time, whether he 
 
246 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XX. 
 
 could not accommodate me with a bridle and 
 saddle. He told me that the bridle and saddle, 
 with which I had ridden the horse on the pre- 
 ceding day, were at my service for a trifle; that 
 he had received them some time since in pay- 
 ment for a debt, and that he had himself no use 
 for them. The leathers of the bridle were 
 rather shabby, and the bit rusty, and the saddle 
 was old-fashioned ; but I was happy to purchase 
 them for seven shillings, more especially as the 
 landlord added a small valise, which he said 
 could be strapped to the saddle, and which I 
 should find very convenient for carrying my 
 things in. I then proceeded to the stable, told 
 the horse we were bound on an expedition, and 
 giving him a feed of corn, left him to discuss 
 it, and returned to the bar-room to have a little 
 farewell chat with the landlord, and at the 
 same time to drink with him a farewell 
 glass of ale. Whilst we were talking and drink- 
 ing, the niece came and joined us: she was a 
 decent, sensible, young woman, who appeared 
 to take a great interest in her uncle, whom she 
 regarded with a singular mixture of pride and 
 disapprobation pride for the renown which 
 he had acquired by his feats of old, and disap- 
 probation for his late imprudences. She said 
 
Ch. XX.] THE KOMANY RYE. 247 
 
 that she hoped that his misfortunes would be a 
 warning to him to turn more to his God than 
 he had hitherto done, and to give up cock-fight- 
 ing and other low-life practices. To which the 
 landlord replied, that with respect to cock-fight- 
 ing he intended to give it up entirely, being 
 determined no longer to risk his capital upon 
 birds, and with respect to his religious duties he 
 should attend the church of which he was 
 churchwarden at least once a quarter, adding, 
 however, that he did not intend to become either 
 canter or driveller, neither of which characters 
 would befit a publican surrounded by such cus- 
 tomers as he was, and that to the last day of his 
 life he hoped to be able to make use of his 
 fists. After a stay of about two hours I set- 
 tled accounts ; and having bridled and saddled 
 my horse, and strapped on the valise, I mounted, 
 shook hands with the landlord and his niece, 
 and departed, notwithstanding that they both 
 entreated me to tarry until the evening, it being 
 then the heat of the day. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 AN ADVENTURE ON THE ROADS. THE SIX FLINT STONES. A RURAL 
 SCENE. MEAD. THE OLD MAN AND HIS BEES. 
 
 I BENT my course in the direction of the north, 
 more induced by chance than any particular mo- 
 tive; all quarters of the world having about 
 equal attractions for me. I was in high spirits 
 at finding myself once more on horseback, and 
 trotted gaily on, until the heat of the weather 
 induced me to slacken my pace, more out of pity 
 for my horse than because I felt any particular 
 inconvenience from it heat and cold being then, 
 and still, matters of great indifference to me. 
 What I thought of I scarcely know, save and ex- 
 cept that I have a glimmering recollection that I 
 felt some desire to meet with one of those ad- 
 ventures, which upon the roads of England are 
 generally as plentiful as blackberrries in autumn ; 
 and Fortune, who has generally been ready to 
 gratify my inclinations, provided it cost her very 
 little by so doing, was not slow in furnishing me 
 
Ch. XXL] THE ROMANY RYE. 249 
 
 with an adventure, perhaps as characteristic of 
 the English roads as anything which could have 
 happened. 
 
 I might have travelled about six miles, 
 amongst cross-roads and lanes, when suddenly 
 I found myself upon a broad and very dusty 
 road, which seemed to lead due north. As I 
 wended along this, I saw a man upon a donkey, 
 riding towards me. The man was commonly 
 dressed, with a broad felt hat on his head, and a 
 kind of satchel on his back ; he seemed to be in 
 a mighty hurry, and was every now and then 
 belabouring the donkey with a cudgel. The 
 donkey, however, which was a fine large crea- 
 ture of the silver-grey species, did not appear to 
 sympathize at all with its rider in his desire to 
 get on, but kept its head turned back as mucli 
 as possible, moving from one side of the road to 
 the other, and not making much forward way. 
 As I passed, being naturally of a very polite dis- 
 position, I gave the man the sele of the day, 
 asking him, at the same time, why he beat the 
 donkey ; whereupon the fellow, eyeing me 
 askance, told me to mind my own business, 
 with the addition of something which I need 
 not repeat. I had not proceeded a furlong 
 before I saw seated on the dust by the wayside, 
 
 M 3 
 
250 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXI. 
 
 close by a heap of stones, and with several flints 
 before him, a respectable-looking old man, with 
 a straw hat and a white smock, who was weep- 
 ing bitterly. 
 
 "What are you crying for, father?" said I. 
 " Have you come to any hurt?" " Hurt enough/' 
 sobbed the old man, " I have been just tricked out 
 of the best ass in England by a villain, who gave 
 me nothing but these trash in return," pointing to 
 the stones before him. " I really scarcely under- 
 stand you," said I, " I wish you would explain 
 yourself more clearly." " I was riding on my ass 
 from market/' said the old man, " when I met 
 here a fellow with a sack on his back, who, after 
 staring at the ass and me a moment or two, 
 asked me if I would sell her. I told him that I 
 could not think of selling her, as she was very 
 useful to me, and though an animal, my true 
 companion, whom I loved as much as if she 
 were my wife and daughter. I then attempted 
 to pass on, but the fellow stood before me, beg- 
 ging me to sell her, saying that he would give 
 me anything for her ; well, seeing that he per- 
 sisted, I said at last that if I sold her, I must 
 have six pounds for her, and I said so to get rid 
 of him, for I saw that he was a shabby fellow, 
 who had probably not six shillings in the world ; 
 
Ch. XXL] THE ROMANY RYE. 251 
 
 but I had better have held my tongue," said the 
 old man, crying more bitterly than before, " for 
 the words were scarcely out of my mouth, when 
 he said he would give me what I asked, and 
 taking the sack from his back, he pulled out a 
 steelyard, and going to the heap of stones there, 
 he took up several of them and weighed them, 
 then flinging them down before me, he said, 
 ' There are six pounds, neighbour ; now, get off 
 the ass, and hand her over to me/ Well, I sat 
 like one dumbfoundered for a time, till at last I 
 asked him what he meant ? ' What do I mean/ 
 said he, 'you old rascal, why, I mean to claim 
 my purchase/ and then he swore so awfully, 
 that scarcely knowing what I did I got down, 
 and he jumped on the animal and rode off as 
 fast as he could." " I suppose he was the fel- 
 low/' said I, " whom I just now met upon a fine 
 grey ass, which he was beating with a cudgel." 
 " I dare say he was," said the old man, " I saw 
 him beating her as he rode away, and I thought 
 I should have died." " I never heard such a 
 story/' said I ; " well, do you mean to submit to 
 such a piece of roguery quietly ? " " Oh, dear," 
 said the old man, " what can I do ? I am 
 seventy-nine years of age ; I am bad on my feet, 
 and darVt go after Mm." " Shall I go ?" said 
 
252 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXI. 
 
 I ; " the fellow is a thief, and any one has a 
 right to stop him." " Oh, if you could but 
 bring her again to me/' said the old man, " I 
 would bless you to my dying day ; but have a 
 care ; I don't know but after all the law may say 
 that she is his lawful purchase. I asked six 
 pounds for her, and he gave me six pounds." 
 " Six flints you mean," said I; " no, no, the law 
 is not quite so bad as that either; I know some- 
 thing about her, and am sure that she will never 
 sanction such a quibble; At all events, I '11 ride 
 after the fellow." Thereupon turning the horse 
 round, I put him to his very best trot; I rode 
 nearly a mile without obtaining a glimpse of 
 the fellow, and was becoming apprehensive that 
 lie had escaped me by turning down some by- 
 path, two or three of which I had passed. Sud- 
 denly, however, on the road making a slight 
 turning, I perceived him right before me, moving 
 at a tolerably swift pace, having by this time 
 probably overcome the resistance of the animal. 
 Putting my horse to a full gallop, I shouted at 
 the top of my voice, " Get off that donkey, you 
 rascal, and give her up to me, or I '11 ride you 
 down." The fellow hearing the thunder of the 
 horse's hoofs behind him, drew up on one side of 
 the road. "What do you want?" said he, as I 
 
Ch. XXL] THE ROMANY RYE. 253 
 
 stopped my charger, now almost covered with 
 sweat and foam, close beside him. " Do you 
 want to rob me?" "To rob you?" said I. 
 " No ! but to take from you that ass, of which 
 you have just robbed its owner/' " I have robbed 
 no man/' said the fellow ; " I just now pur- 
 chased it fairly of its master, and the law will 
 give it to me; he asked six pounds for it, and I 
 gave him six pounds." " Six stones, you mean, 
 you rascal, said I ; " get down, or my horse shall 
 be upon you in a moment ;" then with a motion of 
 my reins, I caused the horse to rear, pressing his 
 sides with my heels as if I intended to make 
 him leap. " Stop," said the man, " I '11 get 
 down, and then try if I can't serve you out." 
 He then got down, and confronted me with his 
 cudgel ; he was a horrible-looking fellow, and 
 seemed prepared for anything. Scarcely, how- 
 ever, had he dismounted, when the donkey 
 jerked the bridle out of his hand, and probably 
 in revenge for the usage she had received, gave 
 him a pair of tremendous kicks on the hip with 
 her hinder legs, which overturned him, and then 
 scampered down the road the way she had come. 
 " Pretty treatment this/' said the fellow, getting 
 up without his cudgel, and holding his hand to 
 his side, " I wish I may not be lamed for life." 
 
254 THE EOMANY EYE. [Ch. XXI. 
 
 " And if you be," said I, " it would merely serve 
 you right, you rascal, for trying to cheat a poor 
 old man out of his property by quibbling at 
 words/' "Rascal!" said the fellow, " you lie, 
 I am no rascal ; and as for quibbling with words 
 suppose P did ! What then ? All the first 
 people does it ! The newspapers does it ! The 
 gentlefolks that calls themselves the guides of the 
 popular mind does it ! I 'm no ignoramus. I 
 reads the newspapers, and knows what 's what." 
 " You read them to some purpose," said I. 
 " Well, if you are lamed for life, and unfitted for 
 any active line turn newspaper editor ; I 
 should say you are perfectly qualified, and this 
 day's adventure may be the foundation of your 
 fortune," thereupon I turned round and rode off. 
 The fellow followed me with a torrent of abuse. 
 " Confound you," said he yet that was not the 
 expression either " I know you; you are one of 
 the horse-patrol, come down into the country on 
 leave to see your relations. Confound you, you 
 and the like of you have knocked my business 
 on the head near Lunnon, and I suppose we 
 shall have you shortly in the country;" "To 
 the newspaper office," said I, " and fabricate 
 falsehoods out of flint stones;" then touching the 
 horse with my heels, I trotted off, and coming to 
 
Ch. XXL] THE ROMANY RYE. 255 
 
 the place where I had seen the old man, I found 
 him there, risen from the ground, and embracing 
 his ass. 
 
 I told him that I was travelling down the 
 road, and said, that if his way lay in the same 
 direction as mine, he could do no better than 
 accompany me for some distance, lest the fel- 
 low, who, for aught I knew, might be hovering 
 nigh, might catch him alone, and again get his 
 ass from him. After thanking me for my offer, 
 which he said he would accept, he got upon his 
 ass, and we proceeded together down the road. 
 My new acquaintance said very little of his own 
 accord ; and when I asked him a question, an- 
 swered rather incoherently. I heard him every 
 now and then say, " Villain ! " to himself, after 
 which he would pat the donkey's neck, from 
 which circumstance I concluded that his mind 
 was occupied with his late adventure. After 
 travelling about two miles, we reached a place 
 where a drift-way on the right led from the 
 great road ; here my companion stopped, and on 
 my asking him whether he was going any 
 farther, he told me that the path to the right 
 was the way to his home. 
 
 I was bidding him farewell, when he hemmed 
 once or twice, and said, that as he did not live 
 
256 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXI. 
 
 far off, he hoped that I would go with him and 
 taste some of his mead. As I had never tasted 
 mead, of which I had frequently read in the 
 compositions of the Welsh bards, and, moreover, 
 felt rather thirsty from the heat of the day, I 
 told him that I should have great pleasure in 
 attending him. Whereupon, turning off together, 
 we proceeded about half a mile, sometimes be- 
 tween stone walls, and at other times hedges, till 
 we reached a small hamlet, through which we 
 passed, and presently came to a very pretty cot- 
 tage, delightfully situated within a garden, sur- 
 rounded by a hedge of woodbines. Opening a 
 gate at one corner of the garden, he led the way 
 to a large shed, which stood partly behind the 
 cottage, which he said was his stable ; thereupon 
 he dismounted and led his donkey into the shed, 
 which was without stalls, but had a long rack 
 and manger. On one side he tied his donkey, 
 after taking off her caparisons, and I followed 
 his example, tying my horse at the other side 
 with a rope halter which he gave me ; he then 
 asked me to come in and taste his mead, but I 
 told him that I must attend to the comfort of 
 my horse first, and forthwith, taking a wisp of 
 straw, rubbed him carefully down. Then taking 
 a pailful of clear water which stood in the shed, 
 
Ch. XXL] THE EOMANY RYE. 257 
 
 I allowed the horse to drink about half a pint ; 
 and then turning to the old man, who all the 
 time had stood by looking at my proceedings, I 
 asked him whether he had any oats ? "I have 
 all kinds of grain," he replied ; and, going out, 
 he presently returned with two measures, one a 
 large and the other a small one, both filled with 
 oats, mixed with a few beans, and handing the 
 large one to me for the horse, he emptied the 
 other before the donkey, who, before she began 
 to despatch it, turned her nose to her master's 
 face, and fairly kissed him. Having given my 
 horse his portion, I told the old man that I was 
 ready to taste his mead as soon as he pleased, 
 whereupon he ushered me into his cottage, where, 
 making me sit down by a deal table in a neatly- 
 sanded kitchen, he produced from an old-fashioned 
 closet a bottle, holding about a quart, and a 
 couple of cups, which might each contain about 
 half a pint, then opening the bottle and filling 
 the cups with a brown-coloured liquor, he handed 
 one to me, and taking a seat opposite to me, 
 he lifted the other, nodded, and saying to me 
 "Health and welcome/' placed it to his lips 
 and drank. 
 
 " Health and thanks/' I replied ; and being 
 very thirsty, emptied my cup at a draught ; I had 
 
258 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXI. 
 
 scarcely done so, however, when I half repented. 
 The mead was deliciously sweet and mellow, 
 but appeared strong as brandy ; my eyes reeled 
 in my head, and my brain became slightly dizzy. 
 " Mead is a strong drink," said the old man, as 
 he looked at me, with a half smile on his coun- 
 tenance. " This is, at any rate/' said I, " so 
 strong, indeed, that I would not drink another 
 cup for any consideration." " And I would 
 not ask you," said the old man; "for, if you 
 did, you would most probably be stupid all 
 day, and wake next morning with a headache. 
 Mead is a good drink, but woundily strong, espe- 
 cially to those who be not used to it, as I sup- 
 pose you are not." " Where do you get it ?" 
 said I. " I make it myself," said the old man, 
 " from the honey which my bees make." " Have 
 you many bees ?" I inquired. " A great many," 
 said the old man. " And do you keep them," 
 said I, " for the sake of making mead with their 
 honey?" "I keep them," he replied, "partly 
 because I am fond of them, and partly for what 
 they bring me in ; they make me a great deal of 
 honey, some of which I sell, and with a little 
 I make me some mead to warm my poor heart 
 with, or occasionally to treat a friend with 
 like yourself." "And do you support yourself 
 
Ch. XXI.] THE EOMANY RYE. 259 
 
 entirely by means of your bees ?" "No," said 
 the old man ; "I have a little bit of ground 
 behind my house, which is my principal means 
 of support/' " And do you live alone ?" " Yes/' 
 said he ; " with the exception of the bees and 
 the donkey, I live quite alone/' " And have 
 you always lived alone ? " The old man emptied 
 his cup, and his heart being warmed with the 
 mead, he told me his history, which was sim- 
 plicity itself. His father was a small yeoman, 
 who, at his death, had left him, his only child, 
 the cottage, with a small piece of ground behind 
 it, and on this little property he had lived ever 
 since. About the age of twenty-five he had 
 married an industrious young woman, by whom 
 he had one daughter, who died before reaching 
 years of womanhood. His wife, however, had sur- 
 vived her daughter many years, and had been a 
 great comfort to him, assisting him in his rural 
 occupations ; but, about four years before the 
 present period, he had lost her, since which time 
 he had lived alone, making himself as comfort- 
 able as he could ; cultivating his ground, with 
 the help of a lad from the neighbouring village, 
 attending to his bees, and occasionally riding his 
 donkey to market, and hearing the word of God, 
 which he said he was sorry he could not read, 
 
260 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXI. 
 
 twice a week regularly at the parish church. 
 Such was the old man's tale. 
 
 When he had finished speaking, he led me be- 
 hind his house, and showed me his little domain. 
 It consisted of about two acres in admirable cul- 
 tivation ; a small portion of it formed a kitchen 
 garden, whilst the rest was sown with four kinds 
 of grain, wheat, barley, pease, and beans. The 
 air was foil of ambrosial sweets, resembling those 
 proceeding from an orange grove ; a place, which 
 though I had never seen at that time, I since 
 have. In the garden was the habitation of the 
 bees, a long box, supported upon three oaken 
 stumps. It was full of small round glass win- 
 dows, and appeared to be divided into a great 
 many compartments, much resembling drawers 
 placed sideways. He told me that, as one com- 
 partment was filled, the bees left it for another ; 
 so that, whenever he wanted honey, he could 
 procure some without injuring the insects. 
 Through the little round windows I could see 
 several of the bees at work ; hundreds were going 
 in and out of the doors ; hundreds were buzzing 
 about on the flowers, the woodbines, and beans. 
 As I looked around on the well-cultivated field, 
 the garden, and the bees, I thought I had never 
 before seen so rural and peaceful a scene. 
 
Ch. XXL] THE ROMANY RYE. 261 
 
 When we returned to the cottage we again sat 
 down, arid I asked the old man whether he was 
 not afraid to live alone. He told me that he 
 was not, for that, upon the whole, his neighbours 
 were very kind to him. I mentioned the fellow 
 who had swindled him of his donkey upon the 
 road. "That was no neighbour of mine/" said 
 the old man, " and, perhaps, I shall never see 
 him again, or his like/' " It 's a dreadful thing/' 
 said I, " to have no other resource, when injured, 
 than to shed tears on the road/' " It is so/' said 
 the old man ; " but God saw the tears of the old, 
 and sent a helper." " Why did you not help 
 yourself?" said I. " Instead of getting off your 
 ass, why did you not punch at the fellow, or at 
 any rate use dreadful language, call him villain, 
 and shout robbery?" "Punch!" said the old 
 man, " shout ! what, with these hands, and this 
 voice Lord, how you run on ! I am old, young 
 chap, I am old!" " Well," said I, "it is a 
 shameful thing to cry even when old." " You 
 think so now," said the old man, " because you 
 are young and strong ; perhaps, when you are as 
 old as I, you will not be ashamed to cry." 
 
 Upon the whole I was rather pleased with the 
 old man, and much with all about him. As 
 evening drew nigh, I told him that I must pro- 
 
262 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXI. 
 
 ceed on my journey ; whereupon he invited me 
 to tarry with him during the night, telling me 
 that he had a nice room and bed above at my 
 service. I, however, declined ; and bidding Mm 
 farewell, mounted my horse, and departed. Re- 
 gaining the road, I proceeded once more in the 
 direction of the north ; and, after a few hours, 
 coming to a comfortable public-house, I stopped 
 and put up for the night. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE SINGULAR NOISE. SLEEPING IN A MEADOW. THE BOOK. 
 CURE FOB, WAKEFULNESS. LITERARY TEA PARTY. POOR BTRON. 
 
 I DID not awake till rather late the next morn- 
 ing ; and when I did, I felt considerable drow- 
 siness, with a slight headache, which I was un- 
 charitable enough to attribute to the mead which 
 I had drank on the preceding day. After feed- 
 ing my horse, and breakfasting, I proceeded on 
 my wanderings. Nothing occurred worthy of 
 relating till mid-day was considerably past, 
 when I came to a pleasant valley, between two 
 gentle hills. I had dismounted, in order to ease 
 my horse, and was leading him along by the 
 bridle, when, on my right, behind a bank in 
 which some umbrageous ashes were growing, I 
 heard a singular noise. I stopped short and 
 listened, and presently said to myself, "Surely 
 this is snoring, perhaps that of a hedgehog." 
 On further consideration, however, I was con- 
 vinced that the noise which I heard, and which 
 
264 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXII. 
 
 certainly seemed to be snoring, could not possibly 
 proceed from the nostrils of so small an animal, 
 but must rather come from those of a giant, so 
 loud and sonorous was it. About two or three 
 yards farther was a gate, partly open, to which 
 I went, and peeping into the field, saw a man 
 lying on some rich grass, under the shade of one 
 of the ashes ; he was snoring away at a great 
 rate. Impelled by curiosity, I fastened the bridle 
 of my horse to the gate, and went up to the 
 man. He was a genteelly-dressed individual ; 
 rather corpulent, with dark features, and seem- 
 ingly about forty-five. He lay on his back, his 
 hat slightly over his brow, and at his right hand 
 lay an open book. So strenuously did he snore 
 that the wind from his nostrils agitated, per- 
 ceptibly, a fine cambric frill which he wore at 
 his bosom. I gazed upon him for some time, 
 expecting that he might awake ; but he did not, 
 but kept on snoring, his breast heaving convul- 
 sively. At last, the noise he made became so 
 terrible, that I felt alarmed for his safety, 
 imagining that a fit might seize him, and he lose 
 his life whilst asleep. I therefore exclaimed, 
 "Sir, sir, awake! you sleep overmuch/' But 
 my voice failed to rouse him, and he continued 
 snoring as before ; whereupon I touched him 
 
Ch. XXIL] THE ROMANY RYE. 265 . 
 
 slightly with my riding wand, but failing to 
 wake him, I touched him again more vigorously ; 
 whereupon he opened his eyes, and, probably 
 imagining himself in a dream, closed them again. 
 But I was determined to arouse him, and cried 
 as loud as I could, " Sir, sir, pray sleep no 
 more ! " He heard what I said, opened his eyes 
 again, stared at me with a look of some con- 
 sciousness, and, half raising himself upon his 
 elbows, asked rne what was the matter. "I 
 beg your pardon/' said I, "but I took the liberty 
 of awaking you, because you appeared to be 
 much disturbed in your sleep I was fearful, too, 
 that you might catch a fever from sleeping under 
 a tree/' "I run no risk/' said the man, "I 
 often come and sleep here ; and as for being dis- 
 turbed in my sleep, I felt very comfortable ; I 
 wish you had not awoken me." "Well/' said I, 
 "I beg your pardon once more. I assure you 
 that what I did was with the best intention/' 
 " Oh ! pray make no farther apology/' said the 
 individual, " I make no doubt that what you did 
 was done kindly ; but there 's an old proverb, to 
 the effect, 'that you should let sleeping dogs lie/ 
 he added, with a smile. Then, getting up, and 
 stretching himself with a yawn, he took up his 
 book and said, " I have slept quite long enough, 
 
 VOL. I. N 
 
266 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXII. 
 
 and it 's quite time for me to be going home/' 
 "Excuse my curiosity/' said I, "if I inquire 
 what may induce you to come and sleep in this 
 meadow?" "To tell you the truth/' answered 
 he, "I am a bad sleeper." "Pray pardon me," 
 said I, "if I tell you that I never saw one 
 sleep more heartily." "If I did so/' said the 
 individual, " I am beholden to this meadow and 
 this book ; but I am talking riddles, and will 
 explain myself. I am the owner of a very pretty 
 property, of which this valley forms part. Some 
 years ago, however, up started a person who 
 said the property was his ; a lawsuit ensued, and 
 I was on the brink of losing my all, when, most 
 unexpectedly, the suit was determined in my 
 favour. Owing, however, to the anxiety to 
 which my mind had been subjected for years, my 
 nerves had become terribly shaken ; and no 
 sooner was the trial terminated than sleep for- 
 sook my pillow. I sometimes passed nights 
 without closing an eye ; I took opiates, but they 
 rather increased than alleviated my malady. 
 About three weeks ago a friend of mine put 
 this book into my hand, and advised me to take 
 it every day to some pleasant part of my estate, 
 and tiy and read a page or two, assuring me, 
 if I did, that I should infallibly fall asleep. I 
 
Ch. XXIL] THE ROMANY RYE. 267 
 
 took his advice, and selecting this place, which I 
 considered the pleasantest part of my property, I 
 came, and lying down, commenced reading the 
 book, and before finishing a page was in a dead 
 slumber. Every day since then I have repeated 
 the experiment, and every time with equal 
 success. I am a single man, without any 
 children ; and yesterday I made my will, in 
 which, in the event of my friend's surviving me, 
 I have left him all my fortune, in gratitude for 
 his Imving procured for me the most invaluable 
 of all blessings sleep/' 
 
 " Dear me/' said I, " how very extraordinary ! 
 Do you think that your going to sleep is caused 
 by the meadow or the book?" "I suppose by 
 both/' said my new acquaintance, " acting in co- 
 operation." " It may be so," said I ; " the 
 magic influence does certainly not proceed from 
 the meadow alone ; for since I have been here, I 
 have not felt the slightest inclination to sleep. 
 Does the book consist of prose or poetry?" " It 
 consists of poetry," said the individual." "Not 
 Byron's?" said I. "Byron's !" repeated the in- 
 dividual, with a smile of contempt ; " no, no ; 
 there is nothing narcotic in Byron's poetry. I 
 don't like it. I used to read it, but it thrilled, 
 agitated, and kept me awake. No, this is not 
 
 N 2 
 
268 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXII. 
 
 Byron's poetry, but the inimitable . . . .'s 
 mentioning a name which I had never heard 
 till then. "Will you permit me to look at 
 it?" said I. "With pleasure/' he answered, 
 politely handing me the book. I took the 
 volume, and glanced over the contents. It was 
 written in blank verse, and appeared to abound 
 in descriptions of scenery ; there was much men- 
 tion of mountains, valleys, streams, and water- 
 falls, harebells and daffodils. These descriptions 
 were interspersed with dialogues, which, though 
 they proceeded from the mouths of pedlars and 
 rustics, were of the most edifying description ; 
 mostly on subjects moral or metaphysical, and 
 couched in the most gentlemanly and unexcep- 
 tionable language, without the slightest mixture 
 of vulgarity, coarseness, or pie-bald grammar. 
 Such appeared to me to be the contents of the 
 book ; but before I could form a very clear idea 
 of them, I found myself nodding, and a surprising 
 desire to sleep coming over me. Rousing myself, 
 however, by a strong effort, I closed the book, 
 and, returning it to the owner, inquired of him, 
 " Whether he had any motive in coming and 
 lying down in the meadow, besides the wish of 
 enjoying sleep ?" "None whatever/' he replied ; 
 indeed, I should be very glad not to be compelled 
 
Ch. XXII.] THE ROMANY RYE. 269 
 
 to do so, always provided I could enjoy the 
 blessing of sleep ; for by lying down under 
 trees, I may possibly catch the rheumatism, or 
 be stung by serpents ; and, moreover, in the 
 rainy season and winter the thing will be impos- 
 sible, unless I erect a tent, which will possibly 
 destroy the charm/' " Well/' said I, "you need 
 give yourself no farther trouble about coming 
 here, as I am fully convinced that with this book 
 in your hand, you may go to sleep anywhere, as 
 your friend was doubtless aware, though he 
 wished to interest your imagination for a time 
 by persuading you to lie abroad ; therefore, in 
 future, whenever you feel disposed to sleep, try 
 to read the book, and you will be sound asleep in 
 a minute ; the narcotic influence lies in the book, 
 and not in the field/' " I will follow your ad- 
 vice," said the individual ; " and this very night 
 take it with me to bed ; though I hope in time 
 to be able to sleep without it, my nerves being 
 already much quieted from the slumbers I have 
 enjoyed in. this field." He then moved towards 
 the gate, where we parted ; he going one way, 
 and I and my horse the other. 
 
 More than twenty years subsequent to this 
 period, after much wandering about the world, 
 returning to my native country, I was invited to 
 
270 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXII. 
 
 a literary tea-party, where, the discourse turning 
 upon poetry, I, in order to show that I was not 
 more ignorant than my neighbours, began to talk 
 about Byron, for whose writings I really enter- 
 tained a considerable admiration, though I had no 
 particular esteem for the man himself. At first 
 I received no answer to what I said the com- 
 pany merely surveying me with a kind of sleepy 
 stare. At length a lady, about the age of forty, 
 with a large wart on her face, observed, in a 
 drawling tone, " That she had not read Byron 
 at least since her girlhood and then only a few 
 passages ; but that the impression on her mind 
 was, that his writings were of a highly objec- 
 tionable character/' " I also read a little of him 
 in my boyhood/' said a gentleman, about sixty, 
 but who evidently, from his dress and demeanour, 
 wished to appear about thirty, but I highly dis- 
 approved of him ; for, notwithstanding he was a 
 nobleman, he is frequently very coarse, and very 
 fond of raising emotion. Now emotion is what 
 I dislike;" drawling out the last syllable of 
 the word dislike. " There is only one poet 
 for me the divine . . . ." and then he men- 
 tioned a name which I had only once heard, and 
 afterwards quite forgotten ; the name mentioned 
 by the snorer in the field. " Ah ! there is no one 
 
Ch. XXII.] THE ROMANY RYE. 271 
 
 like him !" murmured some more of the com- 
 pany ; " the poet of nature of nature without 
 its vulgarity/' I wished very much to ask these 
 people whether they were ever bad sleepers, and 
 whether they had read the poet, so called, from a 
 desire of being set to sleep. Within a few days, 
 however, I learnt that it had of late become 
 very fashionable and genteel to appear half asleep, 
 and that one could exhibit no better mark of su- 
 perfine breeding than by occasionally in company 
 setting one's ronchal organ in action. I then 
 ceased to wonder at the popularity, which I found 
 nearly universal, of . . . /s poetry ; for, certainly 
 in order to make one's self appear sleepy in com- 
 pany, or occasionally to induce sleep, nothing 
 could be more efficacious than a slight pre-lection 
 of his poems. So, poor Byron, with his fire and 
 emotion to say nothing of his mouthings and 
 coxcombry was dethroned, as I had prophesied 
 he would be more than twenty years before, on 
 the day of his funeral, though I had little 
 idea that his humiliation would have been 
 brought about by one, whose sole strength con- 
 sists in setting people to sleep. Well, all things 
 are doomed to terminate in sleep. Before that 
 termination, however, I will venture to prophesy 
 that people will become a little more awake 
 
272 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXII. 
 
 snoring and yawning be a little less in fashion- 
 and poor Byron be once more reinstated on his 
 throne, though his rival will always stand a good 
 chance of being worshipped by those whose 
 ruined nerves are insensible to the narcotic 
 powers of opium and morphine. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 DRIVERS AND FRONT OUTSIDE PASSENGERS. FATIGUE OF BODY AND 
 MIND. UNEXPECTED GREETING. MY INN. THE GOVERNOR. EN- 
 GAGEMENT. 
 
 I CONTINUED my journey, passing through one 
 or two villages. The day was exceedingly hot, 
 and the roads dusty. In order to cause my 
 horse as little fatigue as possible, and not to 
 chafe his back, I led him by the bridle, my 
 doing which brought upon me a shower of 
 remarks, jests, and would-be witticisms from the 
 drivers and front outside passengers of sundry 
 stage-coaches, which passed me in one direction or 
 the other. In this way I proceeded till consider- 
 ably past noon, when I felt myself very fa- 
 tigued, and my horse appeared no less so ; and it 
 is probable that the lazy and listless manner in 
 which we were moving on, tired us both much 
 more effectually than hurrying along at a swift 
 trot would have done, for I have observed that 
 when the energies of the body are not exerted a 
 languor frequently comes over it. At length, 
 arriving at a very large building with an arch- 
 
 N 3 
 
274 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXIII. 
 
 way, near the entrance of a town, I sat down 
 on what appeared to be a stepping-block, and 
 presently experienced a great depression of spi- 
 rits. I began to ask myself whither I was 
 going, and what I should do with myself and the 
 horse which I held by the bridle ? It appeared 
 to me that I was alone in the world with the 
 poor animal, who looked for support to me, who 
 knew not how to support myself. Then the 
 image of Isopel Berners came into my mind, 
 and when I bethought me how I had lost her 
 for ever, and how happy I might have been 
 with her in the New World had she not deserted 
 me, I became yet more miserable. 
 
 As I sat in this state of mind, I suddenly 
 felt some one clap me on the shoulder, and heard 
 a voice say, " Ha ! comrade of the dingle, what 
 chance has brought you into these parts?" I 
 turned round, and beheld a man in the dress of 
 a postillion, whom I instantly recognised as he 
 to whom I had rendered assistance on the night 
 of the storm. 
 
 " Ah !" -said I, " is it you ? I am glad to see 
 you, for I was "feeling very lonely and melan- 
 choly." 
 
 " Lonely and melancholy/' he replied, " how 
 is that? how can any one be lonely and melan- 
 
Ch. XXIIL] THE ROMANY RYE. 275 
 
 choly with such a noble horse as that you hold 
 by the bridle?" 
 
 " The horse/' said I, "is one cause of my 
 melancholy, for I know not in the world what 
 to do with it." 
 
 "Is it your own?" 
 
 " Yes," said I, " I may call it my own, 
 though I boiTOwed the money to purchase it." 
 
 " Well, why don't you sell it?" 
 
 " It is not always easy to find a purchaser for 
 a horse like this," said I ; " can you recommend 
 me one?" 
 
 " I ? Why, no, not exactly ; but you 11 find a 
 purchaser shortly pooh ! if you have no other 
 cause for disquiet than that horse, cheer up, man, 
 don't be cast down. Have you nothing else 
 on your mind? By-the-by, what's become of 
 the young woman you were keeping company 
 with in that queer lodging-place of yours ?" 
 
 " She has left me," said I. 
 
 "You quarrelled, I suppose?" 
 
 " No," said I, " we did not exactly quarrel, 
 but we are parted." 
 
 " Well," replied he, " but you will soon come 
 together again." 
 
 "No," said I, "we are parted for ever." 
 
 " For ever ! Pooh ! you little know how 
 
276 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch, XXIII 
 
 people sometimes come together again who 
 think they are parted for ever. Here 's some- 
 thing on that point relating to myself. You 
 remember, when I told you my story in that 
 dingle of yours, that I mentioned a young 
 woman, my fellow-servant when I lived with 
 the English family in Mumo Jumbo's town, 
 and how she and I, when our foolish governors 
 were thinking of changing their religion, agreed 
 to stand by each other, and be true to old 
 Church of England, and to give our governors 
 warning, provided they tried to make us rene- 
 gades. Well, she and I parted soon after that, 
 and never thought to meet again, yet we met 
 the other day in the fields, for she lately came 
 to live with a great family not far from here, 
 and we have since agreed to marry, to take a 
 little farm, for we have both a trifle of money, 
 and live together till 'death us do part/ So 
 much for parting for ever ! But what do I 
 mean by keeping you broiling in the sun with 
 your horse's bridle in your hand, and you on my 
 own ground ? Do you know where you are ? 
 Why, that great .house is my inn, that is, it 's 
 my master's, the best fellow in .... Come 
 along, you and your horse both will find a wel- 
 come at my inn. 
 
Ch. XXIII.J THE ROMANY RYE. 277 
 
 Thereupon he led the way into a large court 
 in which there were coaches, chaises, and a great 
 many people ; taking my horse from me, he led 
 it into a nice cool stall, and fastened it to the 
 rack he then conducted me into a postillion's 
 keeping-room, which at that time chanced to be 
 empty, and he then fetched a pot of beer and sat 
 down by me. 
 
 After a little conversation he asked me what I 
 intended to do, and I told him frankly that, I did 
 not know ; whereupon he observed that, provided 
 I had no objection, he had little doubt that I 
 could be accommodated for some time at his inn. 
 " Our upper ostler/' said he, " died about a week 
 ago ; he was a clever fellow, and, besides his 
 trade, understood reading and accounts." 
 
 "Dear me/' said I, interrupting him, "I am 
 not fitted for the place of ostler moreover, I re- 
 fused the place of ostler at a public-house, which 
 was offered to me only a few days ago." The 
 postillion burst into a laugh. " Ostler at a pub- 
 lic-house, indeed ! why, you would not compare a 
 berth at a place like that with the situation of 
 ostler at my inn, the first road-house in England ! 
 However, I was not thinking of the place of 
 ostler for you ; you are, as you say, not fitted for 
 it, at any rate not at a house like this. We 
 
278 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXIII. 
 
 have, moreover, the best under-ostler in all Eng- 
 land old Bill, with the drawback that he is 
 rather fond of drink. We could make shift with 
 him very well, provided we could fall in with a 
 man of writing and figures, who could give an 
 account of the hay and corn which comes in and 
 goes out, and wouldn't object to give a look 
 occasionally at the yard. Now it appears to me 
 that you are just such a kind of man, and if you 
 will allow me to speak to the governor, I don't 
 doubt that he will gladly take you, as he feels 
 kindly disposed towards you from what he has 
 heard me say concerning you/' 
 
 "And what should I do with my horse?" 
 said I. 
 
 " The horse need give you no uneasiness/' 
 said the postillion, " I know he will be welcome 
 here both for bed and manger, and, perhaps, in a 
 little time you may find a purchaser, as a vast 
 number of sporting people frequent this house/' 
 I offered two or three more objections, which the 
 postillion overcame with great force of argument, 
 and the pot being nearly empty, he drained it 
 to the bottom drop, and then starting up, left me 
 alone. 
 
 In about twenty minutes he returned, accom- 
 panied by a highly intelligent looking individual 
 
Ch. XXIIL] THE ROMANY RYE. 279 
 
 dressed in blue and black, with a particularly 
 white cravat, and without a hat on his head ; 
 this individual, whom I should have mistaken 
 for a gentleman but for the intelligence depicted 
 in his face, he introduced to me as the master of 
 the inn. The master of the inn shook me warmly 
 by the hand, told me that he was happy to see 
 me in his house, and thanked me in the hand- 
 somest terms for the kindness I had shown to 
 his servant in the affair of the thunder-storm. 
 Then saying that he was informed I was out 
 of employ, he assured me that he should be most 
 happy to engage me to keep his hay and corn 
 account, and as general superintendent of the 
 yard, and that with respect to the horse, which 
 he was told I had, he begged to inform me that 
 I was perfectly at liberty to keep it at the inn 
 upon the very best, until I could find a pur- 
 chaser, that with regard to wages but he had 
 no sooner mentioned wages than I cut him short, 
 saying, that provided I stayed I should be most 
 happy to serve him for bed and board, and re- 
 quested that he would allow me until the next 
 morning to consider of his offer ; he willingly 
 consented to my request, and, begging that I 
 would call for anything I pleased, left me alone 
 with the postillion. 
 
280 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXIII. 
 
 I passed that night until about ten o'clock 
 with the postillion, when he left me, having to 
 drive a family about ten miles across the coun- 
 try ; before his departure, however, I told him 
 that I had determined to accept the offer of his 
 governor, as he called him. At the bottom of my 
 heart I was most happy that an offer had been 
 made, which secured to myself and the animal a 
 comfortable retreat at a moment when I knew 
 not whither in the world to take myself and 
 him. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 AN INN OP TIMES GONE BY. A PIRST'RATE PUBLICAN. HAY AND 
 CORN. OLD-FASHIONED OSTLER. HIGHWAYMEN. MOUNTED POLICE. 
 GROOMING. 
 
 THE inn, of which I had become an inhabitant, 
 was a place of infinite life and bustle. Travellers 
 of all descriptions, from all the cardinal points, 
 were continually stopping at it ; and to attend to 
 their wants, and minister to their convenience, an 
 army of servants, of one description or other, was 
 kept ; waiters, chambermaids, grooms, postillions, 
 shoe-blacks, cooks, scullions, and what not, for 
 there was a barber and hair-dresser, who had been 
 at Paris, and talked French with a cockney ac- 
 cent ; the French sounding all the better, as no 
 accent is so melodious as the cockney. Jacks 
 creaked in the kitchens turning round spits, on 
 which large joints of meat piped and smoked 
 before the great big fires. There was running up 
 and down stairs, and along galleries, slamming of 
 doors, cries of " Coming, sir/' and " Please to step 
 this way, ma'am/' during eighteen hours of the 
 
282 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXI Y. 
 
 four-and-twenty. Truly a very great place for 
 life and bustle was this inn. And often in after 
 life, when lonely and melancholy, I have called 
 up the time I spent there, and never failed to be- 
 come cheerful from the recollection. 
 
 I found the master of the house a very kind 
 and civil person. Before being an inn-keeper he 
 had been in some other line of business, but, on 
 the death of the former proprietor of the inn 
 had married his widow, who was still alive, but, 
 being somewhat infirm, lived in a retired part of 
 the house. I have said that he was kind and 
 civil ; he was, however, not one of those people 
 who suffer themselves to be made fools of by any- 
 body ; he knew his customers, and had a calm 
 clear eye, which would look through a man with- 
 out seeming to do so. The accommodation of 
 his house was of the very best description ; his 
 wines were good, his viands equally so, and his 
 charges not immoderate ; though he very properly 
 took care of himself. He was no vulgar inn- 
 keeper, had a host of friends, and deserved them 
 all. During the time I lived with him, he was 
 presented, by a large assemblage of his friends 
 and customers, with a dinner at his own house, 
 which was very costly, and at which the best of 
 wines were sported, and after the dinner with a 
 
Oh. XXIV.] THE ROMANY HYE. 2S3 
 
 piece of plate, estimated at fifty guineas. He re- 
 ceived the plate, made a neat speech of thanks, 
 and when the bih 1 was called for, made another 
 neat speech, in which he refused to receive one 
 farthing for the entertainment, ordering in at the 
 same time two dozen more of the best cham- 
 pagne, and sitting down amidst uproarious ap- 
 plause, and cries of " You shall be no loser by it ! " 
 Nothing very wonderful in such conduct, some 
 people will say ; I don't say there is, nor have I 
 any intention to endeavour to persuade the reader 
 that the landlord was a Carlo Borromeo ; he 
 merely gave a quid pro quo ; but it is not every 
 person who wiU give you a quid pro quo. Had 
 he been a vulgar publican, he would have sent in 
 a swinging bill after receiving the plate ; " but 
 then no vulgar publican would have been pre- 
 sented with plate ;" perhaps not, but many a 
 vulgar public character has been presented with 
 plate, whose admirers never received a quid pro 
 quo, except in the shape of a swinging bill. 
 
 I found my duties of distributing hay and 
 corn, and keeping an account thereof, anything 
 but disagreeable, particularly after I had acquired 
 the good-will of the old ostler, who at first 
 looked upon me with rather an evil eye, con- 
 sidering me somewhat in the light of one who 
 
284 THE EOMANY RYE. [Ch. XXIV. 
 
 had usurped an office which belonged to himself 
 by the right of succession ; but there was little 
 gall in the old fellow, and, by speaking kindly -to 
 him, never giving myself any airs of assumption ; 
 but, above all, by frequently reading the news- 
 papers to him for, though passionately fond of 
 news and politics, he was unable to read I soon 
 succeeded in placing myself on excellent terms 
 with him. A regular character was that old 
 ostler ; he was a Yorkshireman by birth, but 
 had seen a great deal of life in the vicinity of 
 London, to which, on the death of his parents, 
 who were very poor people, he went at a very 
 early age. Amongst other places where he had 
 served as ostler was a small inn at Hounslow, 
 much frequented by highwaymen, whose exploits 
 he was fond of narrating, especially those of 
 Jerry Abershaw, who, he said, was a capital 
 rider ; and on hearing his accounts of that worthy 
 I half regretted that the old fellow had not been 
 in London, and I had not formed his acquaint- 
 ance about the time I was thinking of writing 
 the life of the said Abershaw, not doubting that 
 with his assistance I could have produced a book 
 at least as remarkable as the life and adventures 
 of that entirely imaginary personage, Joseph Sell ; 
 perhaps, however, I was mistaken ; and whenever 
 
Ch. XXIV.] THE ROMANY RYE. 285 
 
 Abershaw 's life shall appear before the public 
 and my publisher credibly informs me that it has 
 not yet appeared I beg and entreat the public 
 to state which it likes best, the life of Abershaw, 
 or that of Sell, for which latter work I am in- 
 formed that during the last few months there 
 has been a prodigious demand. My old friend, 
 however, after talking of Abershaw, would fre- 
 quently add, that, good rider as Abershaw cer- 
 tainly was, he was decidedly inferior to Richard 
 Ferguson, generally called Galloping Dick, who 
 was a pal of Abershaw's, and had enjoyed a 
 career as long, and nearly as remarkable, as his 
 own. I learned from him that both were capital 
 customers at the Hounslow inn, and that he had 
 frequently drank with them in the corn-room. 
 He said that no man could desire more jolly or 
 entertaining companions over a glass of "sum- 
 mut ;" but that upon the road it was anything 
 but desirable to meet them ; there they were ter- 
 rible, cursing and swearing, and thrusting the 
 muzzles of their pistols into people's mouths ; and 
 at this part of his locution the old man winked, 
 and said, in a somewhat lower voice, that upon 
 the whole they were right in doing so, and that 
 when a person had once made up his mind to be- 
 come a highwayman, his best policy was to go 
 
286 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXIV. 
 
 the whole hog, fearing nothing, but making every 
 body afraid of him ; that people never thought of 
 resisting a savage-faced, foul-mouthed highway- 
 man, and if he were taken, were afraid to bear 
 witness against him, lest he should get off and 
 cut their throats some time or other upon the 
 roads ; whereas people would resist being robbed 
 by a sneaking, pale-visaged rascal, and would 
 swear bodily against him on the first opportunity, 
 adding, that Abershaw and Ferguson, two most 
 awful fellows, had enjoyed a long career, whereas 
 two disbanded officers of the army, who wished 
 to rob a coach like gentlemen, had begged the 
 passengers' pardon, and talked of hard necessity, 
 had been set upon by the passengers themselves, 
 amongst whom were three women, pulled from 
 their horses, conducted to Maidstone, and hanged 
 with as little pity as such contemptible fellows 
 deserved. " There is nothing like going the whole 
 hog/' he repeated, " and if ever I. had been a high- 
 wayman, I would have done so ; I should have 
 thought myself all the more safe ; and, moreover, 
 shouldn't have despised myself. To curry favour 
 with those you are robbing, sometimes at the ex- 
 pense of your own comrades, as I have known 
 fellows do, why it is the greatest . . . . " 
 
 " So it is/' interposed my friend the postillion, 
 
Ch. XXIY.] THE ROMANY RYE. 287 
 
 who chanced to be present at a considerable part 
 of the old ostler's discourse ; " it is, as you say, 
 the greatest of humbug, and merely, after all, 
 gets a fellow into trouble ; but no regular bred 
 highwayman would do it. I say, George, catch 
 the Pope of Home trying to curry favour with 
 anybody he robs ; catch old Mumbo Jumbo 
 currying favour with the Archbishop of Canter- 
 bury and the Dean and Chapter, should he 
 meet them in a stage-coach ; it would be with 
 him, Bricconi Abbasso, as he knocked their teeth 
 out with the butt of his trombone ; and the 
 old regular-built ruffian would be all the safer 
 for it, as Bill would say, as ten to one the 
 Archbishop and Chapter, after such a spice of 
 his quality, would be afraid to swear against 
 him, and to hang him, even if he were in their 
 power, though that would be the proper way ; 
 for, if it is the greatest of all humbug for a high- 
 wayman to curry favour with those he robs, the 
 next greatest is to try to curry favour with a 
 highwayman when you have got him, by letting 
 him off." 
 
 Finding the old man so well acquainted 
 with the history of highwaymen, and taking 
 considerable interest in the subject, having 
 myself edited a book containing the lives of 
 
288 THE EOMANY RYE. [Ch. XXIV. 
 
 many remarkable people who had figured on the 
 highway, I forthwith asked him how it was 
 that the trade of highwayman had become ex- 
 tinct in England, as at present we never heard 
 of any one following it. Whereupon he told 
 me that many causes had contributed to bring 
 about that result ; the principal of which were 
 the following : the refusal to license houses 
 which were known to afford shelter to highway- 
 men, which, amongst many others, had caused 
 the inn at Hounslow to be closed ; the inclosure 
 of many a wild heath in the country, on which 
 they were in the habit of lurking, and par- 
 ticularly the establishing in the neighbourhood of 
 London of a well-armed mounted patrol, who 
 rode the highwaymen down, and delivered them 
 up to justice, which hanged them without cere- 
 mony. 
 
 " And that would be the way to deal with 
 Mumbo Jumbo and his gang/' said the postil- 
 lion, " should they show their visages in these 
 realms ? and I hear by the newspapers that they 
 are becoming every day more desperate. Take 
 away the license from their public-houses, cut 
 down the rookeries and shadowy old avenues in 
 which they are fond of lying in wait, in order to 
 sally out upon people as they pass in the roads ; 
 
Ch. XXIV.] THE ROMANY RYE. 289 
 
 but, above all, establish a good mounted police 
 to ride after the ruffians and drag them by the 
 scruff of the neck to the next clink, where they 
 might lie till they could be properly dealt with by 
 law ; instead of which, the Government are re- 
 pealing the wise old laws enacted against such 
 characters, giving fresh licences every day to 
 their public-houses, and saying that it would be 
 a pity to cut down their rookeries and thickets, 
 because they look so very picturesque ; and, 
 in fact, giving them all kind of encouragement ; 
 why, if such behaviour is not enough to drive 
 an honest man mad, I know not what is. It 
 is of no use talking, I only wish the power 
 were in my hands, and if I did not make short 
 work of them, might I be a mere jackass pos- 
 tillion all the remainder of my life." 
 
 Besides acquiring from the ancient ostler a 
 great deal of curious information respecting the 
 ways and habits of the heroes of the road, with 
 whom he had come in contact in the early por- 
 tion of his life, I picked up from him many 
 excellent hints relating to the art of grooming 
 horses. Whilst at the inn, I frequently groomed 
 the stage and post-horses, arid those driven up 
 by travellers in their gigs : I was not compelled, 
 nor indeed expected, to do so ; but I took plea- 
 
 VOL. i. o 
 
290 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXIV. 
 
 sure in the occupation ; and I remember at that 
 period one of the principal objects of my am- 
 bition was to be a first-rate groom, and to make 
 the skins of the creatures I took in hand look 
 sleek and glossy like those of moles. I have 
 said that I derived valuable hints from the old 
 man, and, indeed, became a very tolerable groom, 
 but there was a certain finishing touch which I 
 could never learn from him, though he possessed 
 it himself, and which I could never attain to by 
 my own endeavours ; though my want of success 
 certainly did not proceed from want of appli- 
 cation, for I have rubbed the horses down, purr- 
 ing and buzzing all the time, after the genuine 
 ostler fashion, until the perspiration fell in 
 heavy drops upon my shoes, and when I had 
 done my best, and asked the old fellow what 
 he thought of my work, I could never extract 
 from him more than a kind of grunt, which 
 might be translated, " Not so very bad, but I 
 have seen a horse groomed much better/' which 
 leads me to suppose that a person, in order to be 
 a first-rate groom, must have something in him 
 when he is born which I had not, and, indeed, 
 which many other people have not who pretend 
 to be grooms. What does the reader think ? 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 STABLE HARTSHORN. HOW TO MANAGE A HORSE ON A JOURNEY. 
 YOUR BEST FRIEND. 
 
 OF one thing I am certain, that the reader must 
 be much delighted with the wholesome smell 
 of the stable, with which many of these pages 
 are redolent ; what a contrast to the sickly 
 odours exhaled from those of some of my con- 
 temporaries, especially of those who pretend to 
 be of the highly fashionable class, and who treat 
 of reception-rooms, well may they be styled so, 
 in which dukes, duchesses, earls, countesses, arch- 
 bishops, bishops, mayors, mayoresses not for- 
 getting the writers themselves, both male and 
 female congregate and press upon one another ; 
 how cheering, how refreshing, after having been 
 nearly knocked down with such an atmosphere, 
 to come in contact with genuine stable harts- 
 horn. Oh ! the reader shall have yet more of 
 the stable, and of that old ostler, for which he or 
 she will doubtless exclaim, " Much obliged ! " 
 
 o 2 
 
292 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXV. 
 
 and lest I should forget to perform my promise, 
 the reader shall have it now. 
 
 I shall never forget an harangue from the mouth 
 of the old man, which I listened to one warm 
 evening as he and I sat on the threshold of the 
 stable, after having attended to some of the 
 wants of a batch of coach-horses. It related 
 to the manner in which a gentleman should 
 take care of his horse and self, whilst engaged in 
 a journey on horseback, and was addressed to 
 myself, on the supposition of my one day coming 
 to an estate, and of course becoming a gentle- 
 man. 
 
 "When you are a gentleman/' said he, 
 " should you ever wish to take a journey on a 
 horse of your own, and you could not have a 
 much better than the one you have here eating- 
 its fill in the box yonder I wonder by the 
 by, how you ever came by it you can't do 
 better than follow the advice I am about to give 
 you, both with respect to your animal and your- 
 self. Before you start, merely give your horse 
 a couple of handfuls of corn and a little water, 
 somewhat under a quart, and if you drink a 
 pint of water yourself out of the pail, you will 
 feel all the better during the whole day ; then 
 you may walk and trot your animal for about 
 
Ch. XXV.] THE ROMANY RYE. 293 
 
 ten miles, till you come to some nice inn, 
 where you may get down and see your horse 
 led into a nice stall, telling the ostler not to feed 
 him till you come. If the ostler happens to be 
 a dog-fancier, and has an English terrier dog like 
 that of mine there, say what a nice dog it is, 
 and praise its black and tawn; and if he does 
 not happen to be a dog-fancier, ask him how 
 he 's getting on, and whether he ever knew 
 worse times; that kind of thing will please the 
 ostler, and he will let you do just what you 
 please with your own horse, and when your 
 back is turned, he '11 say to his comrades what a 
 nice gentleman you are, and how he thinks he 
 has seen you before ; then go and sit down 
 to breakfast, and before you have finished 
 breakfast, get up and go and give your horse a 
 feed of corn; chat with the ostler two or three 
 minutes till your horse has taken the shine out 
 of his corn, which will prevent the ostler taking 
 any of it away when your back is turned, for 
 such things are sometimes done not that I ever 
 did such a thing myself when I was at the 
 inn at Hounslow. Oh, dear me, no ! Then go 
 and finish your breakfast, and when you have 
 finished your breakfast and called for the news- 
 paper, go and water your horse, letting him 
 
294 THE EOMANY RYE. [Ch. XXV. 
 
 have about one pailful, then give him another 
 feed of corn, and enter into discourse with the 
 ostler about bull-baiting, the prime minister, and 
 the like ; and when your horse has once more 
 taken the shine out of his corn, go back to your 
 room and your newspaper and I hope for your 
 sake it may be the " Globe," for that 's the best 
 paper going then pull the bell-rope and order in 
 your bill, which you will pay without counting 
 it up supposing you to be a gentleman. Give 
 the waiter sixpence, and order out your horse, 
 and when your horse is out, pay for the corn, and 
 give the ostler a shilling, then mount your horse 
 and walk him gently for five miles ; and whilst 
 you are walking him in this manner, it may be 
 as well to tell you to take care that you do not let 
 him down and smash his knees, more especially 
 if the road be a particularly good one, for it is 
 not at a desperate hiverman pace, and over very 
 bad roads, that a horse tumbles and smashes his 
 knees, but on your particularly nice road, when 
 the horse is going gently and lazily, and is half 
 asleep, like the gemman on his back; well, at the 
 end of the five miles, when the horse has digested 
 his food, and is all right, you may begin to push 
 your horse on, trotting him a mile at a heat, and 
 then walking him a quarter of a one, that his 
 
Ch. XXV.] THE ROMANY BYE. 295 
 
 wind may be not distressed ; and you may go on 
 in that manner for thirty miles, never galloping 
 of course, for none but fools or hivermen ever 
 gallop horses on roads ; and at the end of that 
 distance you may stop at some other nice inn for 
 dinner. I say, when your horse is led into the 
 stable, after that same thirty miles trotting and 
 walking, don't let the saddle be whisked off at 
 once, for if you do your horse will have such a 
 sore back as will frighten you, but let your saddle 
 remain on your horse's back, with the girths 
 loosened, till after his next feed of corn, and be 
 sure that he has no corn, much less water, till 
 after a long hour and more ; after he is fed he 
 may be watered to the tune of half a pail, and 
 then the ostler can give him a regular rub down ; 
 you may then sit down to dinner, and when you 
 have dined get up and see to your horse as you 
 did after breakfast, in fact you must do much 
 after the same fashion you did at t'other inn ; 
 see to your horse, and by no means disoblige the 
 ostler. So when you have seen to your horse a 
 second time, you will sit down to your bottle of 
 wine supposing you to be a gentleman and 
 after you have finished it, and your argument 
 about the corn-laws with any commercial gentle- 
 man who happens to be in the room, you may 
 
296 THE ROMANY EYE. [Ch. XXV. 
 
 mount your horse again not forgetting to do the 
 proper thing to the waiter and ostler ; you may 
 mount your horse again and ride him, as you did 
 before, for about five and twenty miles, at the 
 end of which you may put up for the night after 
 a very fair day's journey, for no gentleman sup- 
 posing he weighs sixteen stone, as I suppose 
 you will by the time you become a gentleman 
 ought to ride a horse more than sixty-five miles 
 in one day, provided he has any regard for his 
 horse's back, or his own either. See to your horse 
 at night, and have him well rubbed down. The 
 next day you may ride your horse forty miles 
 just as you please, but never foolishly, and those 
 forty miles will bring you to your journey's end, 
 unless your journey be a plaguy long one, and 
 if so, never ride your horse more than five and 
 thirty miles a day, always, however, seeing him 
 well fed, and taking more care of him than your- 
 self; which is but right and reasonable, seeing as 
 how the horse is the best animal of the two. 
 
 " When you are a gentleman/' said he, after 
 a pause, " the first thing you must think about 
 is to provide yourself with a good horse for your 
 own particular riding ; you will, perhaps, keep a 
 coach and pair, but they will be less your own 
 than your lady's, should you have one, and your 
 
Ch. XXV.] THE ROMANY RYE. 297 
 
 young gentry, should you have any ; or, if you 
 have neither, for madam, your housekeeper, and 
 the upper female servants ; so you need trouble 
 your head less about them, though, of course, you 
 would not like to pay away your money for 
 screws ; but be sure you get a good horse for 
 your own riding ; and that you may have a good 
 chance of having a good one, buy one that's young 
 and has plenty of belly a little more than the 
 one has which you now have, though you are not 
 yet a gentleman ; you will, of course, look to his 
 head, his withers, legs and other points, but never 
 buy a horse at any price that has not plenty of 
 belly, no horse that has not belly is ever a good 
 feeder, and a horse that aVt a good feeder 
 can't be a good horse ; never buy a horse that 
 is drawn up in the belly behind, a horse of that 
 description can't feed, and can never carry sixteen 
 stone. 
 
 " So when you have got such a horse be proud 
 of it as I dare say you are of the one you have 
 now and wherever you go swear there a'n't an- 
 other to match it in the country, and if anybody 
 gives you the lie, take him by the nose and 
 tweak it off, just as you would do if anybody 
 were to speak ill of your lady, or, for want of her, 
 of your housekeeper. Take care of your horse, 
 
 o 3 
 
298 THE EOMANY RYE. [Ch. XXV. 
 
 as you would of the apple of your eye I am 
 sure I would, if I were a gentleman, which I 
 don't ever expect to be, and hardly wish, seeing 
 as how I am sixty-nine, and am rather too old 
 to ride yes, cherish and take care of your horse 
 as perhaps the best friend you have in the world ; 
 for, after all, who will carry you through thick 
 and thin as your horse will ? not your gentlemen 
 friends I warrant, nor your housekeeper, nor your 
 upper servants, male or female ; perhaps your lady 
 would, that is, if she is a wopper, and one of the 
 right sort ; the others would be more likely to take 
 up mud and pelt you with it, provided they saw 
 you in trouble, than to help you. So take care of 
 your horse, and feed him every day with your own 
 hands ; give him three quarters of a peck of corn 
 each day, mixed up with a little hay-chaff, and al- 
 low him besides one hundred weight of hay in the 
 course of the week ; some say that the hay should 
 be hardland hay, because it is wholesomest, but 
 I say, let it be clover hay, because the horse 
 likes it best ; give him through summer and 
 winter, once a week, a pailful of bran mash, 
 cold in summer and in winter hot ; ride him 
 gently about the neighbourhood every day, by 
 which means you will give exercise to yourself 
 and horse, and, moreover, have the satisfaction of 
 
Ch. XXV.] THE ROMANY RYE. 299 
 
 exhibiting yourself and your horse to advantage, 
 and hearing, perhaps, the men say what a fine 
 horse, and the ladies saying what a fine man : 
 never let your groom mount your horse, as it is 
 ten to one, if you do, your groom will be wishing 
 to show off before company, and will fling your 
 horse down. I was groom to a gemman before I 
 went to the inn at Hounslow, and flung him a 
 horse down worth ninety guineas, by endeavour- 
 ing to show off before some ladies that I met on 
 the road. Turn your horse out to grass through- 
 out May and the first part of June, for then the 
 grass is sweetest, and the flies don't sting so bad 
 as they do later in summer ; afterwards merely 
 turn him out occasionally in the swale of the morn 
 and the .evening ; after September the grass is 
 good for little, lash and sour at best ; every horse 
 should go out to grass, if not his blood becomes 
 full of greasy humours, and his wind is apt to 
 become affected, but he ought to be kept as much 
 as possible from the heat and flies, always got up 
 at night, and never turned out late in the year 
 Lord ! if I had always such a nice attentive person 
 to listen to me as you are, I could go on talking 
 about Corses to the end of time/' 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE STAGE-COACHMEN OF ENGLAND. A BULLY SERVED OUT. 
 
 BROUGHTON'S GUARD. THE BRAZEN HEAD. 
 
 I LIVED on very good terms, not only with the 
 master and the old ostler, but with all the do- 
 mestics and hangers-on at the inn ; waiters, 
 chambermaids, cooks, and scullions, not forgetting 
 the " boots, " of which there were three. As for 
 the postillions, I was sworn brother with them all, 
 and some of them went so far as to swear that I 
 was the best fellow in the world ; for which high 
 opinion entertained by them of me, I believe I 
 was principally indebted to the good account their 
 comrade gave of me, whom I had so hospitably 
 received in the dingle. I repeat that I lived on 
 good terms with all the people connected with 
 the inn, and was noticed and spoken kindly to 
 by some of the guests especially by that class 
 termed commercial travellers all of whom were 
 great friends and patronizers of the landlord, and 
 were the principal promoters of the dinner, and 
 
Ch. XXVI.] THE ROMANY RYE. 301 
 
 subscribers to the gift of plate, which I have al- 
 ready spoken of, the whole fraternity striking me 
 as the j oiliest set of fellows imaginable, the best 
 customers to an inn, and the most liberal to ser- 
 vants ; there was one description of persons, how- 
 ever, frequenting the inn, which I did not like at 
 all, and which I did not get on well with, and 
 these people were the stage-coachmen. 
 
 The stage-coachmen of England, at the time 
 of which I am speaking, considered themselves 
 mighty fine gentry, nay, I verily believe the most 
 important personages of the realm, and their 
 entertaining this high opinion of themselves can 
 scarcely be wondered at ; they were low fellows, 
 but masters of driving ; driving was in fashion, 
 and sprigs of nobility used to dress as coachmen 
 and imitate the slang and behaviour of coachmen, 
 from whom occasionally they would take lessons 
 in driving as they sat beside them on the box, 
 which post of honour any sprig of nobility who 
 happened to take a place on a coach claimed as 
 his unquestionable right ; and ' then these sprigs 
 would smoke cigars and drink sherry with the 
 coachmen in bar-rooms, and on the road ; and, 
 when bidding them farewell, would give them a 
 guinea or a half-guinea, and shake them by the 
 hand, so that these fellows, being low fellows, very 
 
302 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXVI. 
 
 naturally thought no small liquor of themselves, 
 but would talk familiarly of their friends lords 
 so and so, the honourable misters so and so, and 
 Sir Harry and Sir Charles, and be wonderfully 
 saucy to any one who was not a lord, or some- 
 thing of the kind ; and this high opinion of them- 
 selves received daily augmentation from the ser- 
 vile homage paid them by the generality of the 
 untitled male passengers, especially those on the 
 fore part of the coach, who used to contend for the 
 honour of sitting on the box with the coachman 
 when no sprig was nigh to put in his claim. Oh ! 
 what servile homage these craven creatures did 
 pay these same coach fellows, more especially after 
 witnessing this or i' other act of brutality prac- 
 tised upon the weak and unoffending upon some 
 poor friendless woman travelling with but little 
 money, and perhaps a brace of hungry children 
 with her, or upon some thin and half-starved man 
 travelling on the hind part of the coach from 
 London to Liverpool with only eighteen pence in 
 his pocket after his fare was paid, to defray his 
 expenses on the road ; for as the insolence of these 
 knights was vast, so was their rapacity enormous ; 
 they had been so long accustomed to have crowns 
 and half-crowns rained upon them by their ad- 
 mirers and flatterers, that they would look at a 
 
Ch. XX VI.] THE ROMANY RYE. 303 
 
 shilling, for which many an honest labourer was 
 happy to toil for ten hours under a broiling sun, 
 with the utmost contempt ; would blow upon it 
 derisively, or fillip it into the air before they 
 pocketed it ; but when nothing was given them, 
 as would occasionally happen for how could they 
 receive from those who had nothing ? and nobody 
 was bound to give them anything, as they had 
 certain wages from their employers then what 
 a scene would ensue ! Truly the brutality and ra- 
 pacious insolence of English coachmen had reached 
 a climax ; it was time that these fellows should 
 be disenchanted, and the time thank Heaven ! 
 was not far distant. Let the craven dastards 
 who used to curry favour with them, and applaud 
 their brutality, lament their loss now that they 
 and their vehicles have disappeared from the 
 roads ; I, who have ever been an enemy to inso- 
 lence, cruelty, and tyranny, loathe their memory, 
 and, what is more, am not afraid to say so, well 
 aware of the storm of vituperation, partly learnt 
 from them, which I may expect from those who 
 used to fall down and worship them. 
 
 Amongst the coachmen who frequented the inn 
 was one who was called " the bang-up coachman/' 
 He drove to our inn, in the forepart of every day, 
 one of what were called the fast coaches, and after- 
 
304 THE EOMANY RYE. [Ch. XXVI. 
 
 wards took back the corresponding vehicle. He 
 stayed at our house about twenty minutes, during 
 which time the passengers of the coach which he 
 was to return with dined ; those at least who were 
 inclined for dinner, and could pay for it. He de- 
 rived his sobriquet of " The bang-up coachman " 
 partly from his being dressed in the extremity of 
 coach dandyism, and partly from the peculiar in- 
 solence of his manner, and the unmerciful fashion 
 in which he was in the habit of lashing on the 
 poor horses committed to his charge. He was 
 a large tall fellow, of about thirty, with a face 
 which, had it not been bloated by excess, and in- 
 solence and cruelty stamped most visibly upon it, 
 might have been called good-looking. His inso- 
 lence indeed was so great, that he was hated by 
 all the minor fry connected with coaches along 
 the road upon which he drove, especially the 
 ostlers, whom he was continually abusing or 
 finding fault with. Many was the hearty curse 
 which he received when his back was turned ; but 
 the generality of people were much afraid of him, 
 for he was a swinging strong fellow, and had the 
 reputation of being a fighter, and in one or two 
 instances had beaten in a barbarous manner indi- 
 viduals who had quarrelled with him. 
 
 I was nearly having a fracas with this worthy. 
 
Ch. XX VI.] THE ROMANY RYE. 305 
 
 One day, after he had been drinking sherry with 
 a sprig, he swaggered into the yard where I 
 happened to be standing ; just then a waiter 
 came by carrying upon a tray part of a splendid 
 Cheshire cheese, with a knife, plate, and napkin. 
 Stopping the waiter, the coachman cut with the 
 knife a tolerably large lump out of the very 
 middle of the cheese, stuck it on the end of the 
 knife, and putting it to his mouth nibbled a slight 
 piece off it, and then, tossing the rest away with 
 disdain, flung the knife down upon the tray, 
 motioning' the waiter to proceed ; " I wish/' said 
 I, " you may not want before you die what you 
 have just flung away/' whereupon the fellow 
 turned furiously towards me ; just then, how- 
 ever, his coach being standing at the door, there 
 was a cry for coachman, so that he was forced to 
 depart, contenting himself for the present with 
 shaking his fist at me, and threatening to serve 
 me out on the first opportunity ; before, however, 
 the opportunity occurred he himself got served 
 out in a most unexpected manner. 
 
 The day after this incident he drove his* coach 
 to the inn, and after having dismounted and 
 received the contributions of the generality of 
 the passengers, he strutted up, with a cigar in 
 his mouth, to an individual who had come with 
 
306 THE EOMANY RYE. [Ch. XXVI. 
 
 him, and who had just asked me a question 
 with respect to the direction of a village about 
 three miles off, to which he was going. " Re 
 member the coachman/' said the knight of the 
 box to this individual, who was a thin person of 
 about sixty, with a white hat, rather shabby 
 black coat, and buff-coloured trowsers, and who 
 held an umbrella and a small bundle in his 
 hand. " If you expect me to give you any- 
 thing/' said he to the coachman, "you are 
 mistaken ; I will give you nothing. You have 
 been very insolent to me as I rode behind you 
 on the coach, and have encouraged two or three 
 trumpery follows, who rode along with you, to 
 cut scurvy jokes at my expense, and now you 
 come to me for money ; I am -not so poor, but I 
 could have given you a shilling had you been 
 civil, as it is, I will give you nothing/' " Oh ! 
 you won't, won't you?" said the coachman; 
 " dear me ! I hope I shan't starve because you 
 won't give me anything a shilling ! why, I 
 could afford to give you twenty if I thought 
 fit, you pauper ! civil to you, indeed ! things are 
 come to a fine pass if I need be civil to you ! 
 Do you know who you are speaking to ? why, 
 the best lords in the country are proud to speak 
 to me. Why, it was only the other day that 
 
Ch. XXVI.] THE .ROMANY RYE. 307 
 
 the Marquis of .... said to me . . . ." and 
 then he went on to say what the Marquis said 
 *-o him ; after which, flinging down his cigar, he 
 strutted up the road, swearing to himself about 
 paupers. 
 
 " You say it is three miles to ... ./' said 
 the individual to me ; "I think I shall light my 
 pipe, and smoke it as I go along/' Thereupon 
 he took out from a side-pocket a tobacco-box 
 and short meerschaum pipe, and implements for 
 striking a light, filled his pipe, lighted it, and 
 commenced smoking. Presently the coachman 
 drew near, I saw at once that there was mis- 
 chief in his eye ; the man smoking was standing 
 with his back towards him, and he came so 
 nigh to him, seemingly purposely, that as he 
 passed a puff of smoke came of necessity against 
 his face. " What do you mean by smoking in 
 my face?" said he, striking the pipe of the 
 elderly individual out of his mouth. The other, 
 without manifesting much surprise, said, "I 
 thank you ; and if you will wait a minute, I 
 will give you a receipt for that favour ;" then 
 gathering up his pipe, and taking off his coat 
 and hat, he laid them on a stepping-block which 
 stood near, and rubbing his hands together, he 
 advanced towards the coachman in an attitude 
 
308 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXVI. 
 
 of offence, holding his hands crossed very near 
 to his face. The coachman, who probably ex- 
 pected anything but such a movement from a 
 person of the age and appearance of the indi- 
 vidual whom he had insulted, stood for a mo- 
 ment motionless with surprise ; but, recollecting 
 himself, he pointed at him derisively with his 
 finger ; the next moment, however, the other 
 was close upon him, had struck aside the ex- 
 tended hand with his left fist, and given him 
 a severe blow on the nose with his right, which 
 he immediately followed by a left-hand blow 
 in the eye ; then drawing his body slightly back- 
 ward, with the velocity of lightning he struck 
 the coachman full in the mouth, and the last 
 blow was the severest of all, for it cut the coach- 
 man's lips nearly through ; blows so quickly 
 and sharply dealt I had never seen. The coach- 
 man reeled like a fir-tree in a gale, and seemed 
 nearly unsensed. "Ho! what's this? a fight! 
 a fight ! " sounded from a dozen voices, and 
 people came running from all directions to see 
 what was going on. The coachman, coming 
 somewhat to himself, disencumbered himself of 
 his coat and hat ; and, encouraged by two or 
 three of his brothers of the whip, showed some 
 symptoms of fighting, endeavouring to close with 
 
Ch. XXVI.] THE ROMANY RYE. 309 
 
 his foe, but the attempt was vain, his foe was 
 not to be closed with ; he did not shift or dodge 
 about, but warded off the blows of his opponent 
 with the greatest sang-froid, always using the 
 guard which I have already described, and put- 
 ting in, in return, short chopping blows with 
 the swiftness of lightning. In a very few mi- 
 nutes the countenance of the coachman was 
 literally cut to pieces, and several of his teeth 
 were dislodged ; at length he gave in ; stung 
 with mortification, however, he repented, and 
 asked for another round ; it was granted, to his 
 own complete demolition. The coachman did 
 not drive his coach back that day, he did not 
 appear on the box again for a week ; but he 
 never held up his head afterwards. Before I 
 quitted the inn, he had disappeared from the 
 road, going no one knew where. 
 
 The coachman, as I have said before, was 
 very much disliked upon the road, but there was 
 an esprit de corps amongst the coachmen, and 
 those who stood by did not like to see their 
 brother chastised in such tremendous fashion. 
 " I never saw such a fight before/' said one. 
 " Fight ! why, I don't call it a fight at all, this 
 chap here ha 'n't got a scratch, whereas Tom 
 is cut to pieces ; it is all along of that guard of 
 
310 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXVI. 
 
 his ; if Tom could have got within his guard he 
 would have soon served the old chap out." 
 " So he would/' said another, " it was all owing 
 to that guard. However, I think I see into it, 
 and if I had not to drive this afternoon, I would 
 have a turn with the old fellow and soon serve 
 him out." " I will fight him now for a guinea," 
 said the other coachman, half taking off his 
 coat ; observing, however, that the elderly in- 
 dividual made a motion towards him, he hitched 
 it upon his shoulder again, and added, " that 
 is, if he had not been fighting already, but as it 
 is, I am above taking an advantage, especially of 
 such a poor old creature as that." And when 
 he had said this, he looked around him, and there 
 was a feeble titter of approbation from two or 
 three of the craven crew, who were in the habit 
 of currying favour with the coachmen. The 
 elderly individual looked for a moment at these 
 last, and then said, " To such fellows as you I 
 have nothing to say ;" then turning to the coach- 
 men, " and as for you," he said, " ye cowardly 
 bullies, I have but one word, which is, that your 
 reign upon the roads is nearly over, and that 
 a time is coming when ye will be no longer 
 wanted or employed in your present capacity, 
 when ye will either have to drive dung-carts, 
 
Ch. XXVI.] THE KOMANY EYE 311 
 
 assist as ostlers at village ale-houses, or rot in 
 the workhouse." Then putting on his coat and 
 hat, and taking up his bundle, not forgetting 
 his meerschaum, and the rest of his smoking 
 apparatus, he departed on his way. Filled with 
 curiosity, I followed him. 
 
 " I am quite astonished that you should be 
 able to use your hands in the way you have 
 done/' said I, as I walked with this individual 
 in the direction in which he was bound. 
 
 " I will tell you how I became able to do so/' 
 said the elderly individual, proceeding to fill and 
 light his pipe as he walked along. " My father 
 was a journeyman engraver, who lived in a very 
 riotous neighbourhood in the outskirts of Lon- 
 don. Wishing to give me something of an edu- 
 cation, he sent me to a day-school, two or three 
 streets distant from where we lived, and there, 
 being rather a puny boy, I suffered much per- 
 secution from my school-fellows, who were a 
 very blackguard set. One day, as I was run- 
 ning home, with one of my tormentors pursuing 
 me, old Sergeant Broughton, the retired fighting- 
 man, seized me by the arm . . . ." 
 
 " Dear me/' said I ; " has it ever been your 
 luck to be acquainted with Sergeant Brough- 
 ton?" 
 
312 THE KOMANY RYE. [Ch. XXVI. 
 
 " You may well call it luck/' said the elderly 
 individual ; " but for him I should never have 
 been able to make my way through the world. 
 He lived only four doors from our house ; so, as 
 I was running along the street, with my tyrant 
 behind me, Sergeant Broughton seized me by 
 the arm. ' Stop, my boy/ said he ; ' I have fre- 
 quently seen that scamp ill-treating you ; now 
 I will teach you how to send him home with a 
 bloody nose ; down with your bag of books ; 
 and now, my game chick/ whispered he to me, 
 placing himself between me and my adversary, 
 so that he could not observe his motions ; 
 1 clench your fist in this manner, and hold your 
 arms in this, and when he strikes at you, move 
 them as I now show you, and he can't hurt 
 you; now, don't be afraid, but go at him/ I 
 confess that I was somewhat afraid, but I con- 
 sidered myself in some degree under the pro- 
 tection of the famous Sergeant, and, clenching 
 my fist, I went at my foe, using the guard 
 which my ally recommended. The result cor- 
 responded to a certain degree with the predic- 
 tions of the Sergeant ; I gave my foe a bloody 
 nose and a black eye, though, notwithstanding 
 my recent lesson in the art of self-defence, he 
 contrived to give me two or three clumsy blows. 
 
Ch. XXVI.] THE ROMANY RYE. 313 
 
 From that moment I was the especial favourite 
 of the Sergeant, who gave me farther lessons, so 
 that in a little time I became a very fair boxer, 
 beating everybody of my own size who attacked 
 me. The old gentleman, however, made me 
 promise never to be quarrelsome, nor to turn his 
 instructions to account, except in self-defence. 
 I have always borne in mind my promise, and 
 have made it a point of conscience never to fight 
 unless absolutely compelled. Folks may rail 
 against boxing if they please, but being able 
 to box may sometimes stand a quiet man in 
 good stead. How should I have fared to-day, 
 but for the instructions of Sergeant Broughton ? 
 But for them, the brutal ruffian who insulted me 
 must have passed unpunished. He will not soon 
 forget the lesson which I have just given him 
 the only lesson he could understand. What 
 would have been the use of reasoning with a 
 fellow of that description ? Brave old Brough- 
 ton ! I owe him much/' 
 
 " And your manner of fighting," said I, 
 " was the manner employed by Sergeant Brough- 
 ton?" 
 
 " Yes/' said my new acquaintance ; " it was 
 the manner in which he beat every one who 
 attempted to contend with him, till, in an evil 
 
 VOL. I. p 
 
314 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXVI. 
 
 hour, he entered the ring with Slack, without 
 any training or preparation, and by a chance 
 blow lost the battle to a man who had been beaten 
 with ease by those who, in the hands of Brough- 
 ton, appeared like so many children. It was 
 the way of fighting of him who first taught 
 Englishmen to box scientifically, who was the 
 head and father of the fighters of what is now 
 called the old school, the last of which were 
 Johnson and Big Ben/* 
 
 " A wonderful man that Big Ben/' said I. 
 
 " He was so," said the elderly individual ; 
 " but had it not been for Broughton, I question 
 whether Ben would have ever been the fighter 
 he was. Oh ! there is no one like old Brough- 
 ton ; but for him I should at the present mo- 
 ment be sneaking along the road, pursued by 
 the hissings and hootings of the dirty flatterers 
 of that blackguard coachman/' 
 
 " What did you mean/' said I, " by those 
 words of yours, that the coachmen would speedily 
 disappear from the roads ?" 
 
 " I meant/' said he, " that a new method 
 of travelling is about to be established, which 
 will supersede the old. I am a poor engraver, 
 as my father was before me ; but engraving is 
 an intellectual trade, and by following it, I have 
 
Ch. XXVI.] THE ROMANY RYE. 315 
 
 been brought in contact with some of the 
 cleverest men in England. It has even made me 
 acquainted with the projector of the scheme, 
 which he has told me many of the wisest heads 
 of England have been dreaming of during a 
 period of six hundred years, and which it 
 seems was alluded to by a certain Brazen Head 
 in the story-book of Friar Bacon, who is gene- 
 rally supposed to have been a wizard, but in 
 reality was a great philosopher. Young man, in 
 less than twenty years, by which time I shall 
 be dead and gone, England will be surrounded 
 with roads of metal, on which armies may travel 
 with mighty velocity, and of wliich the walls of 
 brass and iron by which the Mar proposed to 
 defend his native land are types/' He then, 
 shaking me by the hand, proceeded on his way, 
 whilst I returned to the inn. 
 
 P 2 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 FRANCIS ARDRY. HIS MISFORTUNES. DOG AND LION FIGHT. 
 
 GREAT MEN OF THE WORLD. 
 
 A FEW days after the circumstance which I have 
 last commemorated, it chanced that, as I was 
 standing at the door of the inn, one of the numerous 
 stage-coaches which were in the habit of stopping 
 there, drove up, and several passengers got down. 
 I had assisted a woman with a couple of children 
 to dismount, and had just delivered to her a band- 
 box, which appeared to be her only property, 
 which she had begged me to fetch down from the 
 roof, when I felt a hand laid upon my shoulder, 
 and heard a voice exclaim, " Is it possible, old 
 fellow, that I find you in this place? I turned 
 round, and wrapped in a large blue cloak, I be- 
 held my good friend Francis Ardry. I shook him 
 most warmly by the hand, and said, " If you are 
 surprised to see me, I am no less so to see you, 
 where are you bound to ?" 
 
 " I am bound for L . . . . ; at any rate I am 
 
Ch. XXVIL] THE KOMANY RYE. 3 1 7 
 
 booked for that sea-port/' said my friend in 
 reply. 
 
 " I am sorry for it," said I, " for in that case 
 we shall have to part in a quarter of an hour, 
 the coach by which you came stopping no 
 longer/' 
 
 " And whither are you bound ?" demanded my 
 friend. 
 
 " I am stopping at present in this house, quite 
 undetermined as to what to do." 
 
 "Then come along with me/' said Francis 
 Ardry. 
 
 " That I can scarcely do," said I, " I have a 
 horse in the stall which I cannot afford to ruin by 
 racing to L .... by the side of your coach/' 
 
 My friend mused for a moment : " I have no 
 particular business at L . . . ./' said he ; "I 
 was merely going thither to pass a day or two, 
 till an affair, in which I am deeply interested, at 
 C . . . . shall come off. I think I shall stay 
 with you for four-and-twenty hours at least ; I 
 have been rather melancholy of late, and cannot 
 afford to part with a friend like you at the pre- 
 sent moment ; it is an unexpected piece of good 
 fortune to have met you ; and I have not been 
 very fortunate of late/' he added, sighing. 
 
 " Well/' said I, " I am glad to see you once 
 
318 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXVII. 
 
 more, whether fortunate or not ; where is your 
 baggage ?" 
 
 "Yon trunk is mine/' said Francis, pointing 
 to a trunk of black Russian leather upon the 
 coach. 
 
 " We will soon have it down/' said I, and at 
 a word which I gave to one of the hangers-on of 
 the inn, the trunk was taken from the top of the 
 coach. " Now/' said I to Francis Ardiy, " fol- 
 low me, I am a person of some authority in this 
 house ; " thereupon I led Francis Ardry into the 
 house, and a word which I said to a waiter forth- 
 with installed Francis Ardry in a comfortable 
 private sitting-room, and his trunk in the very 
 best sleeping-room of our extensive establishment. 
 
 It was now about one o'clock : Francis Ardry 
 ordered dinner for two, to be ready at four, and 
 a pint of sherry to be brought forthwith, which 
 I requested my friend the waiter might be the 
 very best, and which in effect turned out as I re- 
 quested ; we sat down, and when we had drank 
 to each other's health, Frank requested me to 
 make known to him how I had contrived to free 
 myself from my embarrassments in London, what 
 I had been about since I quitted that city, and 
 the present posture of my affairs. 
 
 I related to Francis Ardry how I had com- 
 
Ch. XXVIL] THE EOMANY EYE. 319 
 
 posed the Life of Joseph Sell, and how the sale 
 of it to the bookseller had enabled me to quit 
 London with money in my pocket, which had 
 supported me during a long course of ramble in 
 the country, into the particulars of which I, how- 
 ever, did not enter with any considerable degree 
 of fullness. I summed up my account by say- 
 ing that " I was at present a kind of overlooker 
 in the stables of the inn, had still some pounds 
 in my purse, and, moreover, a capital horse in the 
 stall." 
 
 " No very agreeable posture of affairs/' said 
 Francis Ardry, looking rather seriously at me. 
 
 " I make no complaints," said I, " my pros- 
 pects are not very bright, it is true, but some- 
 times I have visions, both waking and sleeping, 
 which, though always strange, are invariably 
 agreeable. Last night, in my chamber near the 
 hayloft, I dreamt that I had passed over an al- 
 most interminable wilderness an enormous wall 
 rose before me, the wall, methought, was the great 
 wall of China: strange figures appeared to be 
 beckoning to me from the top of the wall ; such 
 visions are not exactly to be sneered at. Not 
 that such phantasmagoria/' said I, raising my 
 voice, "are to be compared for a moment with 
 such desirable things as fashion, fine clothes, 
 
320 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXVII. 
 
 cheques from uncles, parliamentary interest, the 
 love of splendid females. Ah ! woman's love/' 
 said I, and sighed. 
 
 "What's the matter with the fellow?" said 
 Francis Ardry. 
 
 " There is nothing like it," said I. 
 
 "Like what?" 
 
 " Love, divine love," said I. 
 
 " Confound love/' said Francis Ardry, " I hate 
 the very name ; I have made myself a pretty 
 fool by it, but trust me for ever being caught at 
 such folly again. In an evil hour I abandoned my 
 former pursuits and amusements for it ; in one 
 morning spent at Joey's there was more real plea- 
 sure than in . . . ." 
 
 " Surely," said I, " you are not hankering after 
 dog-fighting again, a sport which none but the 
 gross and unrefined care anything for ? No, one's 
 thoughts should be occupied by something higher 
 and more rational than dog-fighting ; and what 
 better than love divine love ? Oh, there 's 
 nothing like it !" 
 
 "Pray, don't talk nonsense," said Francis Ardry. 
 
 " Nonsense," said I ; " why I was repeating, 
 to the best of my recollection, what I heard you 
 say on a former occasion." 
 
 " If ever I talked such stuff," said Francis 
 
Ch. XXVII.] THE ROMANY RYE. 321 
 
 Ardry, " I was a fool ; and indeed I cannot deny 
 that I have been one : no, there is no denying 
 that I have been a fool. What do you think? 
 that false Annette has cruelly abandoned me/' 
 
 " Well," said I, " perhaps you have yourself to 
 thank for her having done so ; did you never treat 
 her with coldness, and repay her marks of affection- 
 ate interest with strange fits of eccentric humour?" 
 
 " Lord! how little you know of women/' said 
 Francis Ardry ; " had I done as you suppose, I 
 should probably have possessed her at the present 
 moment. I treated her in a manner diametrically 
 opposite to that. I loaded her with presents, was 
 always most assiduous to her, always at her feet, 
 as I may say, yet she nevertheless abandoned me 
 and for whom ? I am almost ashamed to say 
 for a fiddler/' 
 
 I took a glass of wine, Francis Ardry fol- 
 lowed my example, and then proceeded to detail 
 to me the treatment which he had experienced 
 from Annette, and from what he said, it appeared 
 that her conduct to him had been in the highest 
 degree reprehensible ; notwithstanding he had in- 
 dulged her in everything, she was never civil to 
 him, but loaded him continually with taunts and 
 insults, and had finally, on his being unable to 
 supply her with a sum of money which she had 
 
 P 3 
 
322 THE KOMANY RYE [Ch. XXVII. 
 
 demanded, decamped from the lodgings which he 
 had taken for her, carrying with her all the pre- 
 sents which at various times he had bestowed upon 
 her, and had put herself under the protection of 
 a gentleman who played the bassoon at the Italian 
 Opera, at which place it appeared that her sister 
 had lately been engaged as a danseuse. My friend 
 informed me that at first he had experienced great 
 agony at the ingratitude of Annette, but at last 
 had made up his mind to forget her, and in order 
 more effectually to do so, had left London with 
 the intention of witnessing a fight, which was 
 shortly coming off at a town in these .parts, be- 
 tween some dogs and a lion ; which combat, he 
 informed me, had for some time past been looked 
 forward to with intense eagerness by the gentle- 
 men of the sporting world. 
 
 I commended him for his resolution, at the 
 same time advising him not to give up his mind 
 entirely to dog-fighting, as he had formerly done, 
 but, when the present combat should be over, to 
 return to his rhetorical studies, and above all to 
 marry some rich and handsome lady on the first 
 opportunity, as, with his person and expectations, 
 he had only to sue for the hand of the daughter 
 of a marquis to be successful, telling him, with a 
 sigh, that all women were not Annettes, and that 
 
Ch. XXVII.] THE EOMANY EYE.' 323 
 
 upon the whole there was nothing like them. To 
 which advice lie answered, that he intended to 
 return to rhetoric as soon as the lion fight should 
 be over, but that he never intended to inarry, 
 having had enough of women ; adding, that he 
 was glad he had no sister, as, with the feelings 
 which he entertained with respect to her sex, he 
 should be unable to treat her with common affec- 
 tion, and concluded by repeating a proverb which 
 he had learnt from an Arab whom he had met at 
 Venice, to the effect, that, "one who has been stung 
 by a snake, shivers at the sight of a string/' 
 
 After a little more conversation, we strolled 
 to the stable, where my horse was standing ; my 
 friend, who was a connoisseur in horse-flesh, sur- 
 veyed the animal with attention, and after in- 
 quiring where and how I had obtained him, 
 asked what I intended to do with him ; on 
 my telling him that I was undetermined, and 
 that I was afraid the horse was likely to prove a 
 burden to me, he said, " it is a noble animal, 
 and if you mind what you are about, you may 
 make a small fortune by him. I do not want 
 such an animal myself, nor do I know any one 
 who does ; but a great horse-fair will be held 
 shortly at a place where, it is true, I have never 
 been, but of which I have heard a great deal 
 
 
324 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXVII. 
 
 from my acquaintances, where it is said a first- 
 rate horse is always sure to fetch its value ; that 
 place is Horncastle, in Lincolnshire ; you should 
 take him thither/' 
 
 Francis Ardry and myself dined together, and 
 after dinner partook of a bottle of the best port 
 which the inn afforded. After a few glasses, we 
 had a great deal of conversation ; I again brought 
 the subject of marriage and love, divine love, 
 upon the carpet, but Francis almost immediately 
 begged me to drop it ; and on my having 
 the delicacy to comply, he reverted to dog-fight- 
 ing, on which he talked well and learnedly ; 
 amongst other things, he said that it was a 
 princely sport of great antiquity, and quoted 
 from Quintus Curtius to prove that the princes 
 of India must have been of the fancy, they 
 having, according to that author, treated Alex- 
 ander to a fight between certain dogs and a 
 lion. Becoming, notwithstanding my friend's 
 eloquence and learning, somewhat tired of the 
 subject, I began to talk about Alexander. 
 Francis Ardry said he was one of the two great 
 men whom the world has produced, the other 
 being Napoleon ; I replied that I believed Ta- 
 merlane was a greater man than either ; but 
 Francis Ardry knew nothing of Tamerlane, save 
 
Ch. XXVII.] THE ROMANY RYE. 325 
 
 what he had gathered from the play of Timour 
 the Tartar. " No/' said he ; " Alexander and 
 Napoleon are the great men of the world, their 
 names are known everywhere. Alexander has been 
 dead upwards of two thousand years, but the 
 very English bumpkins sometimes christen their 
 boys by the name of Alexander can there be a 
 greater evidence of his greatness ? As for Na- 
 poleon, there are some parts of India in which 
 his bust is worshipped/' Wishing to make up 
 a triumvirate, I mentioned the name of Welling- 
 ton, to which Francis Ardry merely said, " bah ! " 
 and resumed the subject of dog-fighting. 
 
 Francis Ardry remained at the inn during 
 that day and the next, and then departed to the 
 dog and lion fight ; I never saw him afterwards, 
 and merely heard of him once after a lapse of 
 some years, and what I then heard was not 
 exactly what I could have wished to hear. He 
 did not make much of the advantages which he 
 possessed, a pity, for how great were those ad- 
 vantages, person, intellect, eloquence, connection, 
 riches ! yet, with all these advantages, one thing 
 highly needful seems to have been wanting in 
 Francis. A desire, a craving, to perform some- 
 thing great and good. Oh ! what a vast deal 
 may be done with intellect, courage, riches, ac- 
 
326 THE ROMANY EYE. [Ch. XXVII. 
 
 companied by the desire of doing something great 
 and good ! Why, a person may carry the bless- 
 ings of civilization and religion to barbarous, yet 
 at the same time beautiful and romantic lands ; 
 and what a triumph there is for him who does 
 so ! what a crown of glory ! of far greater value 
 than those surrounding the brows of your mere 
 conquerors. Yet who has done so in these times ? 
 Not many; not three, not two, something seems 
 to have been always wanting ; there is, how- 
 ever, one instance, in which the various requi- 
 sites have been united, and the crown, the most 
 desirable in the world at least which I consider 
 to be the most desirable achieved, and only 
 one, that of Brooke of Borneo. 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 MR. PLATITUDE AND THE MAN IN BLACK. THE POSTILLION'S AD- 
 VENTURES. THE LONE HOUSE. A GOODLY ASSEMBLAGE. 
 
 IT never rains, but it pours. I was destined to 
 see at this inn more acquaintances than one. On 
 the day of Francis Ardry's departure, shortly 
 after he had taken leave of me, as I was stand- 
 ing in the corn-chamber at a kind of writing- 
 table or desk, fastened to the wall, with a book 
 before me, in which I was making out an account 
 of the corn and hay lately received and distri- 
 buted, my friend the postillion came running in 
 out of breath. " Here they both are," he gasped 
 out ; " pray do come and look at them ! " 
 
 "Whom do you mean?" said I. 
 
 "Why, that red-haired Jack Priest, and that 
 idiotic parson, Platitude ; they have just been 
 set down by one of the coaches, and want a post- 
 chaise to go across the country in ; and what do 
 you think? I am to have the driving of them. 
 I have no time to lose, for I must get myself 
 ready ; so do come and look at them/' 
 
328 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXVIII. 
 
 I hastened into the yard of the inn ; two or 
 three of the helpers of our establishment were 
 employed in drawing forward a postchaise out 
 of the chaise-house, which occupied one side of 
 the yard, and which was spacious enough to con- 
 tain nearly twenty of these vehicles, though it 
 was never full, several of them being always out 
 upon the roads, as the demand upon us for post- 
 chaises across the country was very great. " There 
 they are/' said the postillion, softly, nodding to- 
 wards two individuals, in one of whom I recog- 
 nized the man in black, and in the other Mr. 
 Platitude ; " there they are ; have a good look at 
 them, while I go and get ready/' The man in 
 black and Mr. Platitude were walking up and 
 down the yard, Mr. Platitude was doing his best 
 to make himself appear ridiculous, talking very 
 loudly in exceedingly bad Italian, evidently for 
 the purpose of attracting the notice of the by- 
 standers, in which he succeeded, all the stable-boys 
 and hangers-on about the yard, attracted by his 
 vociferation, grinning at his ridiculous figure as 
 he limped up and down. The man in black 
 said little or nothing, but from the glances which 
 he cast sideways appeared to be thoroughly 
 ashamed of his companion ; the worthy couple 
 presently arrived close to where I was standing, 
 
Ch. XXVIII.] THE ROMANY RYE. 329 
 
 and the man in black, who was nearest to me, 
 perceiving me, stood still as if hesitating, but re- 
 covering himself in a moment, he moved on with- 
 out taking any farther notice ; Mr. Platitude ex- 
 claimed as they passed, in broken lingo, " I hope 
 we shall find the holy doctors all assembled/' arid 
 as they returned, "I make no doubt that they 
 will all be rejoiced to see me." Not wishing to 
 be standing an idle gazer, I went to the chaise 
 and assisted in attaching the horses, which had 
 now been brought out, to the pole. The postillion 
 presently arrived, and finding all ready took the 
 reins and mounted the box, whilst I very politely 
 opened the door for the two travellers ; Mr. Plati- 
 tude got in first, and, without taking any notice 
 of me, seated himself on the farther side. In got 
 the man in black, and seated himself nearest to 
 me. " All is right/' said I, as I shut the door, 
 whereupon the postillion cracked his whip, and 
 the chaise drove out of the yard. Just as I 
 shut the door, however, and just as Mr. Platitude 
 had recommenced talking in jergo, at the top of 
 liis voice, the man in black turned his face partly 
 towards me, and gave me a wink with his left 
 eye. 
 
 I did not see my friend the postillion till the 
 next morning, when he gave me an account of 
 
330 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXVIII. 
 
 the adventures he had met with on his ex- 
 pedition. It appeared that he had driven the 
 man in black and the Reverend Platitude across 
 the country by roads and lanes which he had 
 some difficulty in threading. At length, when 
 he had reached a part of the country where 
 he had never been before, the man in black 
 pointed out to him a house near the corner of 
 a wood, to which he informed him they were 
 bound. The postillion said it was a strange- 
 looking house, with a wall round it ; and, upon 
 the whole, bore something of the look of a 
 madhouse. There was already a postchaise at 
 the gate, from which 'three individuals had 
 alighted one of them the postillion said was 
 a mean-looking scoundrel, with a regular petty- 
 larceny expression in his countenance. He was 
 dressed very much like the man in black, and 
 the postillion said that he could almost have 
 taken his bible oath that they were both of the 
 same profession. The other two he said were 
 parsons, he couid swear that, though he had 
 never seen theni before ; there could be no mis- 
 take about them. Church of England parsons 
 the postillion swore they were, with their black 
 coats, white cravats, and airs, in which clumsi- 
 ness and conceit were most funnily blended 
 

 Ch. XXVIIL] THE ROMANY RYE. 331 
 
 Church of England parsons of the Platitude 
 description, who had been in Italy, and seen the 
 Pope, and kissed his toe, and picked up a little 
 broken Italian, and come home greater fools 
 than they went forth. It appeared that they 
 were all acquaintances of Mr. Platitude, for 
 when the postillion had alighted and let Mr. 
 Platitude and his companion out of the chaise, 
 Mr. Platitude shook the whole three by the 
 hand, conversed with his two brothers in a little 
 broken jergo, and addressed the petty-larceny 
 looking individual by the title of Reverend Doc- 
 tor. In the midst of these greetings, however, 
 the postillion said the man in black came up to 
 him, and proceeded to settle with him for the 
 chaise ; he had shaken hands with nobody, and 
 had merely nodded to the others ; " and now/' 
 said the postillion, " he evidently wished to get 
 rid of me, fearing, probably, that I should see too 
 much of the nonsense that was going on. It was 
 whilst settling with me that he seemed to recog- 
 nise me for the first time, for he stared hard at 
 me, and at last asked whether I had not been 
 in Italy ; to which question, with a nod and a 
 laugh, I replied that I had. I was then going 
 to ask him about the health of the image of 
 
332 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXVIII. 
 
 Holy Mary, and to say that I hoped it had re- 
 covered from its horsewhipping ; but he inter- 
 rupted me, paid me the money for the fare, and 
 gave me a crown for myself, saying he would 
 not detain me any longer. I say, partner, I 
 am a poor postillion, but when he gave me the 
 crown I had a good mind to fling it in his face. 
 I reflected, however, that it was not mere gift- 
 money, but coin which I had earned, and hardly 
 too, so I put it in my pocket, and I bethought 
 me, moreover, that, knave as I knew him to be, 
 he had always treated me with civility ; so I 
 nodded to him, and he said something which, 
 perhaps, he meant for Latin, but which sounded 
 very much like ' vails/ and by which he doubt- 
 less alluded to the money which he had given 
 me. He then went into the house with the 
 rest, the coach drove away which had brought 
 the others, and I was about to get on the 
 box and follow ; observing, however, two more 
 chaises driving up, I thought I would be in 
 no hurry, so I just led my horses and chaise a 
 little out of the way, and pretending to be occu- 
 pied about the harness, I kept a tolerably sharp 
 look-out at the new arrivals. Well, partner, 
 the next vehicle that drove up was a gentle- 
 
Ch. XXVI1L] THE ROMANY RYE. 333 
 
 man's carriage which I knew very well, as well 
 as those within it, who were a father and son, 
 the father a good kind of old gentleman, and a 
 justice of the peace, therefore not very wise, 
 as you may suppose ; the son a puppy who has 
 been abroad, where he contrived to forget his own 
 language, though only nine months absent, and 
 now rules the roast over his father and mother, 
 whose only child he is, and by whom he is 
 thought wondrous clever. So this foreigneering 
 chap brings his poor old father to this out of 
 the way house to meet these Platitudes and 
 petty-larceny villains, and perhaps would have 
 brought his mother too, only, simple thing, by 
 good fortune she happens to be laid up with 
 the rheumatiz. Well, the father and son, I 
 beg pardon I mean the son and father, got 
 down and went in, and then after their car- 
 riage was gone, the chaise behind drove up, in 
 which was a huge fat fellow, weighing twenty 
 stone at least, but with something of a foreign 
 look, and with him who do you think ? Why, 
 a rascally Unitarian minister, that is, a fellow 
 who had been such a minister, but who some 
 years ago leaving his own people, who had bred 
 him up and sent him to their college at York, 
 went over to the High Church, and is now, I 
 
334 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXVIII. 
 
 suppose, going over to some other church, for he 
 was talking, as he got down, wondrous fast in 
 Latin, or what sounded something like Latin, to 
 the fat fellow, who appeared to take things won- 
 derfully easy, and merely grunted to the dog 
 Latin which the scoundrel had learnt at the 
 expense of the poor Unitarians at York. So 
 they went into the house, and presently arrived 
 another chaise, but ere I could make any farther 
 observations, the porter of the out-of-the-way 
 house came up to me, asking what I was stop- 
 ping there for ? bidding me go away, and not 
 pry into other people's business. ' Pretty busi- 
 ness/ said I to him, ' that is being transacted in 
 a place like this/ and then I was going to say 
 something uncivil, but he went to attend to the 
 new comers, and I took myself away on my 
 own business as he bade me, not, however, be- 
 fore observing that these two last were a couple 
 of blackcoats. 
 
 The postillion then proceeded to relate how 
 he made the best of his way to a small public- 
 house, about a mile off, where he had intended 
 to bait, and how he met on the way a landau 
 and pair, belonging to a Scotch coxcomb 
 whom he had known in London, about whom 
 he related some curious particulars, and then 
 
Ch. XXVIII.] THE ROMANY RYE. 335 
 
 continued : " Well, after I had passed him and 
 his turn-out, I drove straight to the public- 
 house, where I baited my horses, and where I 
 found some of the chaises and drivers who had 
 driven the folks to the lunatic-looking mansion, 
 and were now waiting to take them up again. 
 Whilst my horses were eating their bait, I 
 sat me down, as the weather was warm, at a 
 table outside, and smoked a pipe, and drank 
 some ale, in company with the coachman of the 
 old gentleman who had gone to the house with 
 his son, and the coachman then told me that the 
 house was a Papist house, and that the present 
 was a grand meeting of all the fools and rascals 
 in the country, who came to bow down to 
 images, and to concert schemes pretty schemes 
 no doubt for overturning the religion of the 
 country, and that for his part he did not approve 
 of being concerned with such doings, and that he 
 was going to give his master warning next day. 
 So, as we were drinking and discoursing, up 
 drove the chariot of the Scotchman, and down 
 got his valet and the driver, and whilst the 
 driver was seeing after the horses, the valet came 
 and sat down at the table where the gentleman's 
 coachman and I were drinking. I knew the 
 
336 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXVIII. 
 
 fellow well, a Scotchman like bis master, and 
 just of the same kidney, with white kid gloves, 
 red hair frizzled, a patch of paint on his face, and 
 his hands covered with rings. This very fel- 
 low, I must tell you, was one of those most 
 busy in endeavouring to get me turned out of 
 the servants' club in Park Lane, because 
 I happened to serve a literary man ; so he 
 sat down, and in a kind of affected' tone cried 
 out, ' Landlord, bring me a glass of cold negus/ 
 The landlord, however, told him that there was 
 no negus, but that if he pleased, he could have a 
 jug of as good beer as any in the country. 
 c Confound the beer/ said the valet, ' do you 
 think I am accustomed to such vulgar beverage V 
 However, as he found there was nothing better 
 to be had, he let the man bring him some beer, 
 and when he had got it, soon showed that he 
 could drink it easily enough ; so, when he had 
 drank two or three draughts, he turned his eyes 
 in a contemptuous manner, first, on the coach- 
 man, and then on me : I saw the scamp recol- 
 lected me, for after staring at me and at my 
 dress for about half a minute, he put on a 
 broad grin, and flinging his head back, he 
 uttered a loud laugh. Well, I did not like this, 
 
Ch. XXVIIL] THE ROMANY RYE. 337 
 
 as you may well believe, and taking the pipe 
 out of my mouth, I asked him if he meant any- 
 thing personal, to which he answered, that he 
 had said nothing to me, and that he had a right 
 to look where he pleased, and laugh when he 
 pleased. Well, as to a certain extent he was 
 right, as to looking and laughing ; and as I 
 have occasionally looked at a fool and laughed, 
 though I was not the fool in this instance, I put 
 my pipe into my mouth and said no more. 
 This quiet and well-regulated behaviour of mine, 
 however, the fellow interpreted into fear ; so, 
 after drinking a little more, he suddenly started 
 up, and striding once or twice before the table, 
 he asked me what I meant by that impertinent 
 question of mine, saying that he had a good 
 mind to wring my nose for my presumption. 
 ' You have ?' said I, getting up, and laying 
 down my pipe, 'Well, I '11 now give you an op- 
 portunity/ So I put myself in an attitude, and 
 went up to him, saying, ' I have an old score to 
 settle with you, you scamp ; you wanted to 
 get me turned out of the club, didn't you?' 
 And thereupon, remembering that he had 
 threatened to wring my nose, I gave him a 
 snorter upon his own. I wish you could have 
 VOL. I. Q 
 
338 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXVIII. 
 
 seen the fellow when he felt the smart ; so far 
 from trying to defend himself, he turned round, 
 and with his hand to his face, attempted to 
 run away, but I was now in a regular passion, 
 and following him up, got before him, and was 
 going to pummel away at him, when he burst 
 into tears, and begged me not to hurt him, say- 
 ing that he was sorry if he had offended me, 
 and that, if I pleased, he would go down on his 
 knees, or do anything else I wanted. Well, 
 when I heard him talk in this manner, I of 
 course let him be ; I could hardly help laugh- 
 ing at the figure he cut ; his face all blubbered 
 with tears, and blood and paint ; but I did not 
 laugh at the poor creature either, but went to 
 the table and took up my pipe, and smoked and 
 drank as if nothing had happened ; and the 
 fellow, after having been to the pump, came and 
 sat down, crying, and trying to curry favour 
 with me and the coachman ; presently, however, 
 putting on a confidential look, he began to talk 
 of the Popish house, and of the doings there, 
 arid said he supposed as how we were of the 
 party, and that it was all right ; and then he 
 began to talk of the Pope of Rome, and what a 
 nice man he was, and what a fine thing it was 
 
Ch. XXVIII.] THE EOMANY RYE. 339 
 
 to be of his religion, especially if folks went over 
 to him ; and how it advanced them in the world, 
 and gave them consideration ; and how his mas- 
 ter, who had been abroad and seen the Pope, 
 and kissed his toe, was going over to the Popish 
 religion, and had persuaded him to consent to 
 do so, and to forsake his own, which I think the 
 scoundrel called the 'Piscopal Church of Scotland, 
 and how many others of that church were going 
 over, thinking to better their condition in life 
 by so doing, and to be more thought on; and 
 how many of the English church were thinking 
 of going over too and that he had no doubt 
 that it would all end right and comfortably. 
 Well, as he was going on in this way, the old 
 coachman began to spit, and getting up, flung all 
 the beer that was in his jug upon the ground, 
 and going away, ordered another jug of beer, 
 and sat down at another table, saying that he 
 would not drink in such company ; and I too 
 got up, and flung what beer remained in my 
 jug, there wasn't more than a drop, in the fel- 
 low's face, saying, I would scorn to drink any 
 more in such company ; and then I went to my 
 horses, put them to, paid my reckoning, and 
 drove home." 
 
 2 
 
340 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXVIII. 
 
 The postillion having related his story, to 
 which I listened with all due attention, mused 
 for a moment, and then said, " I dare say you 
 remember how, some time since, when old Bill had 
 been telling us how the Government, a long time 
 ago, had done away with robbing on the high- 
 way, by putting down the public-houses and places 
 which the highwaymen frequented, and by send- 
 ing out a good mounted police to hunt them 
 down, I said that it was a shame that the 
 present Government did not employ somewhat 
 the same means in order to stop the proceedings 
 of Mumbo Jumbo and his gang now-a-days in 
 England. Howsomever, since I have driven a 
 fare to a Popish rendezvous, and seen something 
 of what is going on there, I should conceive 
 that the Government are justified in allowing 
 the gang the free exercise of their calling. Any- 
 body is welcome to stoop and pick up nothing, 
 or worse than nothing, and if Mumbo Jumbo's 
 people, after their expeditions, return to their 
 haunts with no better plunder in the shape of 
 converts than what I saw going into yonder 
 place of call, I should say they are welcome to 
 what they get ; for if that 's the kind of rubbish 
 they steal out of the Church of England, or any 
 
Ch. XXVIII.] THE ROMANY RYE. 
 
 other church, who in his senses but would say 
 a good riddance, and many thanks for your 
 trouble : at any rate that is my opinion of the 
 matter/' 
 
CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 DELIBERATIONS WITH SELF. RESOLUTION. INVITATION TO DINNER. 
 THE COMMERCIAL TRAVELLER. THE LANDLORD'S OFFER. THE 
 COMET WINE. 
 
 IT was now that I had frequent deliberations 
 with myself. Should I continue at the inn in 
 my present position? I was not very much 
 captivated with it ; there was little poetry in 
 keeping an account of the corn, hay, and straw 
 which came in, and was given out, and I was 
 fond of poetry ; moreover, there was no glory 
 at all to be expected in doing so, and I was 
 fond of glory. Should I give up that situation, 
 and remaining at the inn, become ostler under 
 old Bill? There was more poetry in rubbing 
 down horses than in keeping an account of 
 straw, hay, and corn ; there was also some 
 prospect of glory attached to the situation of 
 ostler, for the grooms and stable-boys occa- 
 sionally talked of an ostler, a great way down 
 the road, who had been presented by some 
 
Ch. XXIX.] THE ROMANY RYE. 343 
 
 sporting people, not with a silver vase, as our 
 governor had been, but with a silver currycomb, 
 in. testimony of their admiration for his skill ; 
 but I confess that the poetry of rubbing down 
 had become, as all other poetry becomes, rather 
 prosy by frequent repetition, and with respect 
 to the chance of deriving glory from the em- 
 ployment, I entertained, in the event of my 
 determining to stay, very slight hope of ever 
 attaining skill in the ostler art sufficient to 
 induce sporting people to bestow upon me a 
 silver currycomb. I was not half so good an 
 ostler as old Bill, who had never been presented 
 with a silver currycomb, and I never expected 
 to become so, therefore what chance had I ? It 
 was true, there was a prospect of some pecu- 
 niary emolument to be derived by remaining in 
 either situation. It was very probable that, 
 provided I continued to keep an account of the 
 hay and corn coming in and expended, the land- 
 lord would consent to allow me a pound a week, 
 which at the end of a dozen years, provided I 
 kept myself sober, would amount to a consider- 
 able sum. I might, on the retirement of old 
 Bill, by taking his place, save up a decent sum 
 of money, provided, unlike him, I kept myself 
 sober, and laid by all the shillings and six- 
 
344 THE KOMANY RYE. [Ch. XXIX. 
 
 pences I got ; but the prospect of laying up a 
 decent sum of money was not of sufficient im- 
 portance to induce me to continue either at my 
 wooden desk, or in the inn-yard. The reader 
 will remember what difficulty I had to make up 
 my mind to become a merchant under the Ar- 
 menian's auspices, even with the prospect of 
 making two or three hundred thousand pounds 
 by following the Armenian way of doing busi- 
 ness, so it was not probable that I should feel 
 disposed to be book-keeper or ostler all my life 
 with no other prospect than being able to make 
 a tidy sum of money. If indeed, besides the 
 prospect of making a tidy sum at the end of 
 perhaps forty years ostlering, I had been certain 
 of being presented with a silver currycomb with 
 my name engraved upon it, which I might have 
 left to my descendants, or, in default thereof, to 
 the parish church destined to contain my bones, 
 with directions that it might be soldered into 
 the wall above the arch leading from the body 
 of the church into the chancel I will not say 
 that with such a certainty of immortality, com- 
 bined with such a prospect of moderate pecu- 
 niary advantage, I might not have thought it 
 worth rny while to stay, but I entertained no 
 such certainty, and taking everything into con- 
 
Ch. XXIX.] THE ROMANY RYE. 345 
 
 sideration, I determined to mount my horse and 
 leave the inn. 
 
 This horse had caused me for some time past 
 no little perplexity; I had frequently repented 
 of having purchased him, more especially as the 
 purchase had been made with another person's 
 money, and had more than once shown him to 
 people who, I imagined, were likely to purchase 
 him ; but, though they were profuse in his praise, 
 as people generally are in the praise of what they 
 don't intend to purchase, they never made me 
 an offer, and now that I had determined to 
 mount on his back and ride away, what was I to 
 do with him in the sequel? I could not maintain 
 him long. Suddenly I bethought me of Horn- 
 castle, which Francis Ardry had mentioned as a 
 place where the horse was likely to find a pur- 
 chaser, and not having determined upon any 
 particular place to which to repair, I thought 
 that I could do no better than betake myself to 
 Horncastle in the first instance, and there en- 
 deavour to dispose of my horse. 
 
 On making inquiries with respect to the 
 situation of Horncastle, and the time when the 
 fair would be held', I learned that the town 
 was situated in Lincolnshire, about a hundred 
 and fifty miles from the inn at which I was at 
 
 Q 3 
 
346 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXIX. 
 
 present sojourning, and that the fair would be 
 held nominally within about a month, but that 
 it was always requisite to be on the spot some 
 days before the nominal day of the fair, as all 
 the best horses were generally sold before that 
 time, and the people who came to purchase gone 
 away with what they had bought. 
 
 The people of the inn were very sorry on 
 being informed of my determination to depart. 
 Old Bill told me that he had hoped as how I 
 had intended to settle down there, and to take 
 his place as ostler when he was fit for no more 
 work, adding, that though I did not know much 
 of the business, yet he had no doubt but that I 
 might improve. My friend the postillion was 
 particularly sorry, and taking me with him to 
 the tap-room called for two pints of beer, to one 
 of which he treated me ; and whilst we were 
 drinking told me how particularly sorry he was 
 at the thought of my going, but that he hoped 
 I should think better of the matter. On my tell- 
 ing him that I must go, he said that he trusted 
 I should put off my departure for three weeks, 
 in order that I might be present at his marriage, 
 the bans cf which were just about to be pub- 
 lished. He said that nothing would give him 
 greater pleasure than to see me dance a minuet 
 
Ch. XXIX.] THE ROMANY EYE. 347 
 
 with his wife after the marriage dinner ; but I 
 told him it was impossible that I should stay, 
 my affairs imperatively calling me elsewhere ; 
 and that with respect to my dancing a minuet, 
 such a thing was out of the question, as I had 
 never learned to dance. At which he said that 
 he was exceedingly sorry, and finding me deter- 
 mined to go, wished me success in all my under- 
 takings. 
 
 The master of the house, to whom, as in duty 
 bound, I communicated my intention before I 
 spoke of it to the servants, was, I make no 
 doubt, very sorry, though he did not exactly 
 tell me so. What he said was, that he had 
 never expected that I should remain long there, 
 as such a situation never appeared to him quite 
 suitable to me, though I had been very diligent, 
 and had given him perfect satisfaction. On his 
 inquiring when I intended to depart, I informed 
 him next day, whereupon he begged that I 
 would defer my departure till the next day but 
 one, and do him the favour of dining with him 
 on the morrow. I informed him that I should 
 be only too happy. 
 
 On the following day at four o'clock I dined 
 with the landlord, in company with a commer- 
 cial traveller. The dinner was good, though 
 
348 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXIX. 
 
 plain, consisting of boiled mackarel rather a 
 rarity in those parts at that time with fennel 
 sauce, a prime baron of roast beef after the 
 mackarel, then a tart and noble Cheshire cheese ; 
 we had prime sherry at dinner, and whilst eat- 
 4ng the cheese prime porter, that of Barclay, 
 the only good porter in the world. After the 
 cloth was removed we had a bottle of very 
 good port ; and whilst partaking of the port 
 I had an argument with the commercial travel- 
 ler on the subject of the corn-laws. 
 
 The commercial traveller, having worsted me 
 in the argument on the subject of the corn-laws, 
 got up in great glee, saying that he must order 
 his gig, as business must be attended to. Before 
 leaving the room, however, he shook me patro- 
 nizingly by the hand, and said something to the 
 master of the house, but in so low a tone that it 
 escaped my ear. 
 
 No sooner had he departed than the master 
 of the house told me that his friend the tra- 
 veller had just said that I was a confounded 
 sensible young fellow, and not at all opinionated, 
 a sentiment in which he himself perfectly agreed 
 then hemming once or twice, he said that as I 
 was going on a journey he hoped I was tole- 
 rably well provided with money, adding that 
 
Ch. XXIX.] THE ROMANY RYE. 349 
 
 travelling was rather expensive, especially on 
 horseback, the manner in which he supposed, 
 as I had a horse in the stable, I intended to 
 travel. I told him that though I was not par- 
 ticularly well supplied with money, I had suffi- 
 cient for the expenses of my journey, at the end 
 of which I hoped to procure more. He then 
 hemmed again, and said that since I had been 
 at the inn I had rendered him a great deal of 
 service in more ways than one, and that he 
 could not think of permitting me to depart 
 without making me some remuneration ; then 
 putting his hand into his waistcoat pocket he 
 handed me a cheque for ten pounds, which he 
 had prepared beforehand, the value of which 
 he said I could receive at the next town, or 
 that, if I wished it, any waiter in the house 
 would cash it for -me. I thanked him for his 
 generosity in the best terms I could select, but, 
 handing him back his cheque, I told him that 
 I could not accept it, saying that, so far from 
 his being my debtor, I believed myself to be 
 indebted to him, as not only myself but my 
 horse had been living at his house for several 
 weeks. He replied, that as for my board at a 
 house like his it amounted to nothing, and as 
 for the little corn and hay which the horse had 
 
350 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXIX. 
 
 consumed it was of no consequence, and that 
 he must insist upon my taking the cheque. 
 But I again declined, telling him that doing so 
 would be a violation of a rule which I had de- 
 termined to follow, and which nothing but the 
 greatest necessity would ever compel me to 
 break through never to incur obligations. 
 " But/' said he, " receiving this money will not be 
 incurring an obligation, it is your due/' " I do 
 not think so," said I ; " I did not engage to 
 serve you for money, nor will I take any from 
 you." "Perhaps you will take it as a loan?" 
 said he. "No," I replied, "I never borrow." 
 " Well," said the landlord, smiling, "you are dif- 
 ferent from all others that I am acquainted with. 
 I never yet knew any one else who scrupled to 
 borrow and receive obligations ; why, there 
 are two baronets in this neighbourhood who 
 have borrowed money of me, ay, and who have 
 never repaid what they borrowed; and there are 
 a dozen squires who are under considerable obli- 
 gations to me, who I dare say will never return 
 them. Come, you need not be more scrupu- 
 lous than your superiors I mean in station." 
 " Every vessel must stand on its own bottom," 
 said I ; " they take pleasure in receiving obliga- 
 tions, I take pleasure in being independent. 
 
Ch. XXIX.] THE ROMANY RYE. 351 
 
 Perhaps they are wise, and I am a fool, I know 
 not, but one thing I am certain of, which is, 
 that were I not independent I should be very 
 unhappy : I should have no visions then/' 
 " Have you any relations ?" said the landlord, 
 looking at me compassionately ; " excuse me, 
 but I don't think you are exactly fit to take 
 care of yourself." "There you are mistaken/' 
 said I, " I can take precious good care of my- 
 self ; ay, and can drive a precious hard bargain 
 when I have occasion, but driving bargains is a 
 widely different thing from receiving gifts. I 
 am going to take my horse to Horncastle, and 
 when there I shall endeavour to obtain his full 
 value ay to the last penny/' 
 
 " Horncastle 1 " said the landlord, " I have 
 heard of that place ; you mustn't be dreaming 
 visions when you get there, or they '11 steal the 
 horse from under you. Well," said he, rising, 
 " I shall not press you farther on the subject of 
 the cheque. I intend, however, to put you 
 under an obligation to me." He then rang the 
 bell, and having ordered two fresh glasses to be 
 brought, he went out and presently returned 
 with a small pint bottle, which he uncorked 
 with his own hand ; then sitting down, he said, 
 " The wine that I bring here, is port of eighteen 
 
352 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXIX. 
 
 hundred and eleven, the year of the comet, the 
 best vintage on record ; the wine which we have 
 been drinking," he added, " is good, but not to 
 be compared with this, which I never sell, and 
 which I am chary of. When you have drank 
 some of it, I think you will own that I have 
 conferred an obligation upon you ;" he then 
 filled the glasses, the wine which he poured out 
 diffusing an aroma through the room ; then 
 motioning me to drink, he raised his own glass 
 to his lips, saying, " Come, friend, I drink to 
 your success at Horncastle." 
 
CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 TRIUMPHAL DEPARTURE. NO SEASON LIKE YOUTH. EXTREME OLD 
 
 AGE. BEAUTIFUL ENGLAND. THE RATCATCHER. A MISADVEN- 
 TURE. 
 
 I DEPARTED from the inn much in the same 
 fashion as I had come to it, mounted on a 
 splendid horse indifferently well caparisoned, 
 with the small valise attached to my crupper, 
 in which, besides the few things I had brought 
 with me, was a small book of roads with a 
 map, which had been presented to me by the 
 landlord. I must not forget to state that I 
 did not ride out of the yard, but that my horse 
 was brought to me at the front door by old 
 Bill, who insisted upon doing so, and who re- 
 fused a five-shilling piece which I offered him ; 
 and it will be as well to let the reader know 
 that the landlord shook me by the hand as I 
 mounted, and that the people attached to the 
 inn, male and female my friend the postillion 
 at the head assembled before the house 
 to see me off, and gave me three cheers as 
 
354 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXX. 
 
 I rode away. Perhaps no person ever departed 
 from an inn with more e'clat or better wishes ; 
 nobody looked at me askance, except two stage- 
 coachmen who were loitering about, one of 
 whom said to his companion, " I say, Jim ! 
 twig his portmanteau ! a regular Newmarket 
 turn out by . . . . \" 
 
 It was in the cool of the evening of a bright 
 day all the days of that summer were bright 
 that I departed. I felt at first rather melan- 
 choly at finding myself again launched into the 
 wide world, and leaving the friends whom I 
 had lately made behind me ; but by occa- 
 sionally trotting the horse, and occasionally 
 singing a song of Bomanvile, I had dispelled 
 the feeling of melancholy by the time I had 
 proceeded three miles down the main road. It 
 was at the end of these three miles, just oppo- 
 site a milestone, that I struck into a cross road. 
 After riding about seven miles, threading what 
 are called, in postillion parlance, 'cross-country 
 roads, I reached another high road, tending to 
 the east, along which I proceeded for a mile or 
 two, when coming to a small inn, about nine 
 o'clock, I halted and put up for the night. 
 
 Early on the following morning I proceeded 
 on my journey, but fearing to gall the horse, I 
 
Ch. XXX.] THE ROMANT RYE. 355 
 
 no longer rode him, but led him by the bridle, 
 until I came to a town at the distance of about 
 ten miles from the place where I had passed the 
 night. Here I stayed during the heat of the 
 day, more on the horse's account than my own, 
 and towards evening resumed my journey, lead- 
 ing the animal by the bridle as before ; and in 
 this manner I proceeded for several days, tra- 
 velling on an average from twenty to twenty- 
 five miles a day, always leading the animal, 
 except perhaps now and then of an evening, 
 when, if I saw a good piece of road before me, 
 I would mount and put the horse into a trot, 
 which the creature seemed to enjoy as much as 
 myself, showing his satisfaction by snorting and 
 neighing, whilst I gave utterance to my own 
 exhilaration by shouts, or by "the chi she is 
 kaulo she soves prd lakie dumo," or by some- 
 thing else of the same kind in Romanvile. 
 
 On the whole, I journeyed along very plea- 
 santly, certainly quite as pleasantly as I do at 
 present, now that I am become a gentleman, 
 and weigh sixteen stone, though some people 
 would say that my present manner of travelling 
 is much the most preferable, riding as I now 
 do, instead of leading my horse ; receiving the 
 homage of ostlers instead of their familiar nods ; 
 
356 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXX. 
 
 sitting down to dinner in the parlour of the 
 best inn I can find, instead of passing the 
 brightest part of the day in the kitchen of a 
 village alehouse ; carrying on my argument 
 after dinner on the subject of the corn-laws, 
 with the best commercial gentlemen on the road, 
 instead of being glad, whilst sipping a pint of 
 beer, to get into conversation with blind tram- 
 pers, or maimed Abraham sailors, regaling them- 
 selves on half-pints at the said village hostelries. 
 Many people will doubtless say that things have 
 altered wonderfully with rne for the better, and 
 they would say right, provided I possessed now 
 what I then carried about with me in my jour- 
 neys the spirit of youth. Youth is the only 
 season for enjoyment, and the first twenty-five 
 years of one's life are worth all the rest of the 
 longest life of man, even though those five-and- 
 twenty be spent in penury and contempt, and 
 the rest in the possession of wealth, honours, 
 respectability, ay, and many of them in strength 
 and health, such as will enable one to ride 
 forty miles before dinner, and over one's pint 
 of port for the best gentleman in the land 
 should not drink a bottle carry on one's argu- 
 ment, with gravity and -decorum, with any com- 
 mercial gentleman who, responsive to one's chal- 
 
Ch. XXX.] THE EOMANY RYE. 357 
 
 lenge, takes the part of common sense and hu- 
 manity against " protection" and the lord of 
 land. 
 
 Ah ! there is nothing like youth not that 
 after-life is valueless. Even in extreme old age 
 one may get on very well, provided we will but 
 accept of the bounties of God. I met the other 
 day an old man, who asked me to drink. " I 
 am not thirsty/' said I, " and will not drink with 
 you/' " Yes, you will/' said the old man, " for I 
 am this day one hundred years old ; and you 
 will never again have an opportunity of drinking 
 the health of a man on his hundredth birthday." 
 So I broke my word, and drank. " Yours is a 
 wonderful age/' said I. " It is a long time to 
 look back to the beginning of it," said the old 
 man ; " yet, upon the whole, I am not sorry 
 to have lived it all." " How have you passed 
 your time ? " said I. " As well as I could/' said 
 the old man ; " always enjoying a good thing 
 when it came honestly within my reach ; not 
 forgetting to praise God for putting it there." 
 " I suppose you were fond of a glass of good ale 
 when you were young ?" " Yes," said the old 
 man, " I was ; and so, thank God, I am still." 
 And he drank off a glass of ale. 
 
358 THE ROMANY BYE [Ch. XXX. 
 
 On I went in my journey, traversing England 
 from west to east ascending and descending 
 hills crossing rivers by bridge and ferry and 
 passing over extensive plains. What a beautiful 
 country is England ! People run abroad to see 
 beautiful countries, and leave their own behind 
 unknown, unnoticed their own the most beau- 
 tiful ! And then, again, what a country for 
 adventures ! especially to those who travel it on 
 foot, or on horseback. People run abroad in 
 quest of adventures, and traverse Spain and 
 Portugal on mule or on horseback ; whereas 
 there are ten times more adventures to be met 
 with in England than in Spain, Portugal, or 
 stupid Germany to boot. Witness the number 
 of adventures narrated in the present book a 
 book entirely devoted to England. Why, there is 
 not a chapter in the present book which is not 
 full of adventures, with the exception of the 
 present one, and this is not yet terminated. 
 
 After traversing two or three counties, I 
 reached the confines of Lincolnshire. During 
 one particularly hot day I put up at a public- 
 house, to which, in the evening, came a party 
 of harvesters to make merry, who, finding me 
 wandering about the house a stranger, invited 
 
Ch. XXX.] THE ROMANY RYE. 359 
 
 me to partake of their ale ; so I drank with the 
 harvesters, who sang me songs about rural life, 
 such as 
 
 " Sitting in the swale ; and listening to the swindle of the 
 flail, as it sounds dub-a-dub on the corn, from the neighbouring 
 barn." 
 
 In requital for which I treated them with a song, 
 not of Romanvile, but the song of " Sivord and 
 the horse Grayman." I remained with them 
 till it was dark, having, after sunset, entered into 
 deep discourse with a celebrated ratcatcher, who 
 communicated to me the secrets of his trade, 
 saying, amongst other things, " When you see 
 the rats pouring out of their holes, and running 
 up my hands and arms, it 's not after me they 
 comes, but after the oils I carries about me they 
 comes ;" and who subsequently spoke in the most 
 enthusiastic manner of his trade, saying that 
 it was the best trade in the world, and most di- 
 verting, and that it was likely to last for ever ; 
 for whereas all other kinds of vermin were fast 
 disappearing from England, rats were every day 
 becoming more abundant. I had quitted this 
 good company, and having mounted my horse, 
 was making my way towards a town at about 
 six miles' distance, at a swinging trot, my thoughts 
 deeply engaged on what I had gathered from the 
 
360 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXX. 
 
 ratcatcher, when all on a sudden a light glared 
 upon the horse's face, who purled round in great 
 terror, and flung me out of the saddle, as from a 
 sling, or with as much violence as the horse 
 Gray man, in the ballad, flings Sivord the Snares- 
 way ne. I fell upon the ground felt a kind of 
 crashing about my neck and forthwith became 
 senseless. 
 
CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 NOVEL SITUATION. THE ELDERLY INDIVIDUAL. THE SURGEON. 
 
 A KIND OFFER. CHIMERICAL IDEAS. STRANGE DREAM. 
 
 How long I remained senseless I cannot say, for 
 a considerable time I believe ; at length, opening 
 my eyes, I found myself lying on a bed in a 
 middle-sized chamber, lighted by a candle, which 
 stood on a table an elderly man stood near me, 
 and a yet more elderly female was holding a 
 phial of very pungent salts to my olfactory 
 organ. I attempted to move, but felt very stiff 
 my right arm appeared nearly paralyzed, and 
 there was a strange dull sensation in my head, 
 " You had better remain still, young man/" said 
 the elderly individual, " the surgeon will be here 
 presently ; I have sent a message for him to the 
 neighbouring village/' " Where am I ?" said I, 
 " and what has happened V " You are in my 
 house/" said the old man, " and you have been 
 flung from a horse. I am sorry to say that I 
 was the cause. As I was driving home, the 
 VOL. I. R 
 
362 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXXI. 
 
 lights in my gig frightened the animal/' " Where 
 is the horse/' said I ? " Below, in my stable/' 
 said the elderly individual. " I saw you fall, 
 but knowing that on account of my age I could 
 be of little use to you, I instantly hurried home, 
 the accident did not occur more than a furlong 
 off, and procuring the assistance of my lad, and 
 two or three neighbouring cottagers, I returned 
 to the spot where you were lying senseless. We 
 raised you up, and brought you here. My lad 
 then went in quest of the horse, who had run 
 away as we drew nigh. When we saw him first, 
 he was standing near you ; he caught him with 
 some difficulty, and brought him home/' " What 
 are you about ?" said the old man, as I strove to 
 get off the bed. " I want to see the horse/' said I. 
 " I entreat you to be still," said the old man ; " the 
 horse is safe, I assure you/' " I am thinking 
 about his knees," said I. " Instead of thinking 
 about your horse's knees," said the old man, " be 
 thankful that you have not broke your own neck." 
 " You do not talk wisely," said I ; " when a man's 
 neck is broke he is provided for ; but when his 
 horse's knees are broke, he is a lost jockey, that 
 is, if he has nothing but his horse to depend 
 upon. A pretty figure I should cut at Horncastle, 
 mounted on a horse blood-raw at the knees/' 
 
Ch. XXXI.] THE ROMANY RYE. 3G3 
 
 " Oh, you are going to Horncastle," said the old 
 man, seriously, then I can sympathize with you 
 in your anxiety about your horse, being a Lin- 
 colnshire man, and the son of one who bred 
 horses. I will myself go down into the stable, 
 and examine into the condition of your horse, so 
 pray remain quiet till I return ; it would cer- 
 tainly be a terrible thing to appear at Horncastle 
 on a broken-kneed horse." 
 
 He left the room, and returned at the end of 
 about ten minutes, followed by another person. 
 " Your horse is safe," said he, " and his knees are 
 unblemished ; not a hair ruffled. He is a fine 
 animal, and will do credit to Horncastle ; but 
 here is the surgeon come to examine into your 
 own condition." The surgeon was a man about 
 thirty-five, thin, and rather tall ; his face was 
 long and pale, and his hair, which was light, was 
 carefully combed back as much as possible from 
 his forehead. He was dressed very neatly, and 
 spoke in a very precise tone. " Allow me to feel 
 your pulse, friend?" said he, taking me by the 
 right wrist I uttered a cry, for at the motion 
 which he caused a thrill of agony darted through 
 my arm. " I hope your arm is not broke, my 
 friend/' said the surgeon, " allow me to see ; first of 
 all, we must divest you of this cumbrous frock." 
 
364 THE KOMANY RYE. [Ch. XXXI. 
 
 The frock was removed with some difficulty, 
 and then the upper vestments of my frame, 
 with more difficulty still. The surgeon felt my 
 arm, moving it up and down, causing me un- 
 speakable pain. " There is no fracture/' said he, 
 at last, "but a contusion a violent contusion. 
 I am told you were going to Horncastle ; I am 
 afraid you will be hardly able to ride your horse 
 thither in time to dispose of him ; however, we 
 shall see your arm must be bandaged, friend ; 
 after which I will bleed you, and administer a 
 composing draught." 
 
 To be short, the surgeon did as he proposed, 
 and when he had administered the composing 
 draught, he said, "Be of good cheer ; I should 
 not be surprised if you are yet in time for Horn- 
 castle/' He then departed with the master of the 
 house, and the woman, leaving me to my repose, 
 I soon began to feel drowsy, and was just com- 
 posing myself to slumber, lying on my back, as 
 the surgeon had advised me, when I heard steps 
 ascending the stairs, and in a moment more the 
 surgeon entered again, followed by the master of 
 the house. " I hope we don't disturb you/' said 
 the former; " my reason for returning is to relieve 
 your mind from any anxiety with respect to your 
 horse. I am by no means sure that you will be 
 
Ch. XXXL] THE ROMANY RYE. 365 
 
 able, owing to your accident, to reach Horncastle 
 in time : to quiet you, however, I will buy your 
 horse for any reasonable sum. I have been 
 down to the stable, and approve of his figure. 
 What do you ask for him ?" " This is a strange 
 time of night/' said I, "to come to me about 
 purchasing my horse, and I am hardly in a fitting 
 situation ,to be applied to about such a matter. 
 What do you want him for?" "For my own 
 use/' said the surgeon ; " I am a professional 
 man, and am obliged to be continually driving 
 about ; I cover at least one hundred and fifty 
 miles every week."" u He will never answer your 
 purpose/' said I, " he is not a driving horse, and 
 was never between shafts in his life ; he is for 
 riding, more especially for trotting, at which he 
 has few equals." " It matters not to me whether 
 he is for riding or driving/' said the surgeon, 
 " sometimes I ride, sometimes drive ; so if we 
 can come to terms, I will buy him, though re- 
 member it is chiefly to remove any anxiety from 
 your mind about him." " This is no time for 
 bargaining," said I, "if you wish to have the 
 horse for a hundred guineas, you may ; if 
 not . . . ." "A hundred guineas," said the 
 surgeon, " my good friend, you must surely be 
 light-headed ; allow me to feel your pulse," and 
 
 R 2 
 
366 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXXI. 
 
 he attempted to feel my left wrist. " I am not 
 light-headed/' said I, " and I require no one to 
 feel my pulse ; but I should be light-headed if I 
 were to sell my horse for less than I have de- 
 manded ; but I have a curiosity to know what 
 you would be willing to offer." " Thirty pounds/' 
 said the surgeon, " is all I can afford to give ; 
 and that is a great deal for a country surgeon to 
 offer for a horse/' " Thirty pounds/' said I, 
 " why he cost me nearly double that sum. To 
 tell you the truth, I am afraid you want to take 
 advantage of my situation/' " Not in the least, 
 friend," said the surgeon, " not in the least ; I 
 only wished to set your mind at rest about your 
 horse ; but as you think he is worth more than 
 I can afford to offer, take him to Horncastle by 
 all means ; I will do my best to cure you in 
 time. Good night, I will see you again on the 
 morrow/' Thereupon he once more departed 
 with the master of the house. " A sharp one," I 
 heard him say, with a laugh, as the door closed 
 upon him. 
 
 Left to myself, I again essayed to compose my- 
 self to rest, but for some time in vain. I had been 
 terribly shaken by my fall, and had subsequently, 
 owing to the incision of the surgeon's lancet, been 
 deprived of much of the vital fluid ; it is when 
 
Ch. XXXI.] THE ROMANY EYE. 367 
 
 the body is in such a state that the merest trifles 
 affect and agitate the mind ; no wonder, then, 
 that the return of the surgeon and the master of 
 the house for the purpose of inquiring whether I 
 would sell my horse, struck me as being highly 
 extraordinary, considering the hour of the night, 
 and the situation in which they knew me to be. 
 What could they mean by such conduct did 
 they wish to cheat me of the animal ? " Well, 
 well/' said I, "if they did, what matters, they 
 found their match ; yes, yes/' said I, " but I am in 
 their power, perhaps" but I instantly dismissed 
 the apprehension which came into my mind, with 
 a pooh, nonsense ! in a little time, however, a 
 far more foolish and ohimerical idea began to dis- 
 turb me the idea of being flung from my horse ; 
 was I not disgraced for ever as a horseman by 
 being flung from my horse ? Assuredly, I thought ; 
 and the idea of being disgraced as a horseman, 
 operating on my nervous system, caused me very 
 acute misery. " After all," said I to myself, " it 
 was perhaps the contemptible opinion which the 
 surgeon must have formed of my equestrian 
 powers, which induced him to offer to take my 
 horse off my hands ; he perhaps thought I was 
 unable to manage a horse, and therefore in pity 
 returned in the dead of night to offer to pur- 
 
368 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXXI. 
 
 chase the animal which had flung me ; and then 
 the thought that the surgeon had conceived a 
 contemptible opinion of my equestrian powers, 
 caused me the acutest misery, and continued tor- 
 menting me until some other idea (I have forgot 
 what it was, but doubtless equally foolish) took 
 possession of my mind. At length, brought on by 
 the agitation of my spirits, there came over 
 me the same feeling of horror that I had expe- 
 rienced of old when I was a boy, and likewise 
 of late within the dingle ; it was, however, 
 not so violent as it had been on those occasions, 
 and I struggled manfully against it, until by 
 degrees it passed away, and then I fell asleep ; 
 and in my sleep I had %n ugly dream. I 
 dreamt that I had died of the injuries I had 
 received from my fall, and that no sooner had 
 my soul departed from my body than it entered 
 that of a quadruped, even my own horse in 
 the stable in a word, I was, to all intents and 
 purposes, my own steed ; and as I stood in the 
 stable chewing hay (and I remember that the 
 hay was exceedingly tough), the door opened, 
 and the surgeon who had attended me came in. 
 " My good animal," said he, " as your late master 
 has scarcely left enough to pay for the expenses 
 of his funeral, and nothing to remunerate me for 
 
Ch. XXXI.] THE ROMANY RYE. 369 
 
 my trouble, I shall make bold to take possession 
 of you. If your paces are good, I shall keep you 
 for my own riding ; if not, I shall take you to 
 Horncastle, your original destination." He then 
 bridled and saddled me, and, leading me out, 
 mounted, and then trotted me up and down be- 
 fore the house, at the door of which the old man, 
 who now appeared to be dressed in regular jockey 
 fashion, was standing. " I like his paces well," 
 said the surgeon ; " I think I shall take him for 
 my own use." " And what am I to have for all 
 the trouble his master caused me ?" said my late 
 entertainer, on whose countenance I now ob- 
 served, for the first time, a diabolical squint. 
 " The consciousness of having done your duty to 
 a fellow-creature in succouring him in a time of 
 distress, must be your reward," said the surgeon. 
 " Pretty gammon, truly," said my late enter- 
 tainer ; " what would you say if I were to talk 
 in that way to you ? Come, unless you choose 
 to behave jonnock, I shall take the bridle and 
 lead the horse back into the stable." "Well," 
 said the surgeon, " we are old friends, and I don't 
 wish to dispute with you, so 111 tell you what I 
 will do ; I will ride the animal to Horncastle, 
 and we will share what he fetches like brothers." 
 "Good," said the old man, "but if you say that 
 
370 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXXI, 
 
 you have sold him for less than a hundred, I 
 shan't consider you jonnock ; remember what the 
 young fellow said that young fellow. . . ." I 
 heard no more, for the next moment I found my- 
 self on a broad road leading, as I supposed, in 
 the direction of Horncastle, the surgeon still in 
 the saddle, and my legs moving at a rapid trot. 
 " Get on/' said the surgeon, jerking my mouth 
 with the bit ; whereupon, full of rage, I instantly 
 set off at a full gallop, determined, if possible, to 
 dash my rider to the earth. The surgeon, how- 
 ever, kept his seat, and, so far from attempting 
 to abate my speed, urged me on to greater efforts 
 with a stout stick, which methought he held in 
 his hand. In vain did I rear and kick, attempt- 
 ing to get rid of my foe ; but the surgeon re- 
 mained as saddle-fast as ever the Maugrabin sor- 
 cerer in the Arabian tale what time he rode the 
 young prince transformed into a steed to his en- 
 chanted palace in the wilderness. At last, as I 
 was still madly dashing on, panting and blowing, 
 and had almost given up all hope, I saw at a dis- 
 tance before me a heap of stones by the side of 
 the road, probably .placed there for the purpose 
 of repairing it ; a thought appeared to strike me 
 I will shy at those stones, and if I can't get 
 rid of him so, resign myself to my fate. So I 
 
Ch. XXXL] THE ROMANY RYE. 371 
 
 increased my speed, till arriving within about ten 
 yards of the heap, I made a desperate start, turn- 
 ing half round with nearly the velocity of a mill- 
 stone. Oh, the joy I experienced when I felt my 
 enemy canted over my neck, and saw him lying- 
 senseless in the road. " I have you now in my 
 power/' I said, or rather neighed, as, going up to 
 my prostrate foe, I stood over him. " Suppose I 
 were to rear now, and let my fore feet fall upon 
 you, what would your life be worth ? that is, sup- 
 posing you are not killed already ; but lie there, 
 I will do you no farther harm, but trot to Horn- 
 castle without a rider, and when there . . . ." 
 and without further reflection off I trotted in the 
 direction of Horncastle, but had not gone far before 
 my bridle, falling from my neck, got entangled 
 with my off fore foot. I felt myself falling, a thrill 
 of agony shot through me my knees would be 
 broken, and what should I do at Horncastle with a 
 pair of broken knees ? I struggled, but I could not 
 disengage my off fore foot, and downward I fell, 
 but before I had reached the ground I awoke, and 
 found myself half out of bed, my bandaged arm 
 in considerable pain, and my left hand just 
 touching the floor. 
 
 With some difficulty I readjusted myself in bed. 
 It was now early morning, and the first rays of 
 
372 THE ROMANY RYE. [Ch. XXXI. 
 
 the sun were beginning to penetrate the white 
 curtains of a window on ray left, which probably 
 looked into a garden, as I caught a glimpse or 
 two of the leaves of trees through a small un- 
 covered part at the side. For some time I felt 
 uneasy and anxious, my spirits being in a strange 
 fluttering state. At last my eyes fell upon a 
 small row of tea-cups, seemingly of china, which 
 stood on a mantelpiece exactly fronting the bot- 
 tom of the bed. The sight of these objects, I 
 know not why, soothed and pacified me ; I kept 
 my eyes fixed upon them, as I lay on my back 
 on the bed, with my head upon the pillow, till at 
 last I fell into a calm and refreshing sleep, 
 
 Woodfall and Kindc-r, Primers, Angel Court, Skiuuer Street, London. 
 
V./. 
 

 
 ^ 
 
 ; c