The hardships the women have to undergo are most heartrending. The mother, in order to procure a morsel of food, takes her three months’ old child either in her arms or on her back, and wanders the streets or lanes in foul or fair weather—in heat or cold. Some of them have told me that they walk on an average over twelves miles a day. They are the bread-winners. I have seen them on their return to their wigwams, in the depth of winter, with six inches of snow on the ground, and scantily clad, and with six little children crying round them for bread. No fire in the tent, and her husband idling about in other tents. In cases of confinements, the men have to do something, or they would all starve. For a few days they wake up out of their idle dreams. I know of Gipsy women who have trudged along with their loads, and their children at their heels, to within the last five minutes of their confinement. The children were literally born under the hedge bottom, and without any tent or protection whatever. A Gipsy woman told me a week or two since that her mother had told her that she was born under the hedge bottom in Bagworth Lane, in Leicestershire. When I questioned her on the subject, she rather gloried in the fact that they had not time to stick the tent-sticks into the ground. This kind of disgraceful procedure is not far removed from that of animals. I should think that I am speaking within compass when I state that two-thirds of the Gipsies travelling about the country have been born under what they call the “hedge bottom,” _i.e._, in tents and like places. The Gipsy women use no cradles; the child, as a rule, sleeps on the ground. When a boy attains three years of age, so says Hoyland, the rags he was wrapped in are thrown on one side, and he is equally exposed with the parents to the severest weather. He is then put to trial to see how far his legs will carry him. Clayton told me that when he was a boy of about twelve, his father sent him into the town and among the villages—with no other covering upon him only a piece of an old shirt—to bring either bread or money home, no matter how.