“The bacon and fish at dinner were excellent; we hardly knew which was best. A peasant boy brought us a bundle of sticks for our fire. The sun became exceedingly hot. Esmeralda and myself went and sat in some shade near our tents.” “Noah stood in the shade blacking his boots, and observed to Esmeralda, ‘I shall not help my wife as Mr. Petalengro does you.’ ‘Well,’ said Esmeralda, ‘what is a wife for?’ ‘For!’ retorted Noah, sharply, giving his boot an extra brush, ‘why, to wait upon her husband.’ ‘And what,’ said Esmeralda, ‘is a husband for?’ ‘What’s a husband for!’ exclaimed Noah, with a look of profound pity for his sister’s ignorance, ‘why, to eat and drink, and look on.’” Mr. Petalengro goes on to say: “It would seem to us that the more rude energy a man has in his composition the more a woman will be made to take her position as helpmate. It is always a mark of great civilisation and the effeminacy of a people when women obtain the undue mastery of men.” And he farther goes on to say: “We were just having a romp with Esmeralda and her two brothers as we were packing up our things, and a merry laugh, when some men appeared at the fence near our camping-ground. We little think,” says Mr. Petalengro, “how much we can do in this world to lighten a lonely wayfarer’s heart.” [Picture: A Bachelor Gipsy’s Bedroom] Esmeralda and Mr. Petalengro tell each other their fortunes. “Esmeralda and myself were sitting in our tents. Then the thought occurred to her that we should tell her fortune. ‘Your fortune must be a good one,’ said we, laughing; ‘let me see your hand and your lines of life.’ We shall never forget Esmeralda. She looked so earnestly as we regarded attentively the line of her open hand.” (Mr. Petalengro does not say that tears were to be seen trickling down those lovely cheeks of Esmeralda while this fortune-telling, nonsensical farce was being played out.) “Then we took her step by step through some scenes of her supposed future. We did not tell all. The rest was reserved for another day. There was a serious look on her countenance as we ended; but, reader, such secrets should not be revealed. Esmeralda commenced to tell our fortunes. We were interested to know what she would say. We cast ourselves on the waves of fate. The Gipsy raised her dark eyes from our hand as she looked earnestly in the face. You are a young gentleman of good connections. Many lands you have seen. But, young man, something tells me you are of a wavering disposition.’” And then charming Esmeralda would strike up “The Little Gipsy”— “My father’s the King of the Gipsies, that’s true, My mother she learned me some camping to do; With a packel on my back, and they all wish me well, I started up to London some fortunes for to tell.