There are too many circumstances surrounding such a Gipsy to remind him of his origin, and arrest him in his career of learning: for his race never having been tolerated--that is, no position ever having been assigned it, he feels as if he were a vagabond, if known or openly avowed to the public as a member of the tribe. And this, in itself, is sufficient to discourage such a Gipsy in every effort towards improvement.--ED. According to promise, the eldest of the Gipsy boys called at my house, in about six months, accompanied by his sister. He was selling white-iron ware, for he was a tin-smith by occupation. Without entering into any preliminary conversation, for the purpose of smoothing the way for more direct questions, I took him into my parlour, and at once enquired if he _could_ speak the Tinkler language? He applied to my question the construction that I doubted if he could, and the consequences which that would imply, and answered firmly, "Yes, sir; I have been bred in that line all my life." "Will you allow me," said I, "to write down your words?" "O yes, sir; you are welcome to as many as you please." "Have you names for everything, and can you converse on any subject, in that language?" "Yes, sir; we can converse, and have a name for everything, in our own speech." I now commenced to "make hay while the sun shone," as the phrase runs; for I knew that I could have only about an hour with the Gipsy, at the most. The following, then, are the words and sentences which I took down, on this occasion: