“An Old Woman” writes as follows:—“In the article on Gipsies in the _Standard_ of to-day I was struck with the truth of this; remark—‘He is kindly by nature, and always anxious to please those who treat him well, and to win their affections.’ I can give you one instance of this in my own family, although it happened long, long ago. The Boswell tribe of Gipsies used to encamp once a year near the village in which my grandfather (my mother’s father), who was a miller and farmer, lived; and there grew up a very kindly feeling between the head of the tribe and my grandfather and his family. Some of the Gipsies would often call at my grandfather’s house, where they were always received kindly, and oftener still, on business or otherwise, at the mill, to see ‘Pe-tee,’ as they called my grandfather, whose Christian name was Peter. Once upon a time my grandfather owed a considerable sum of money, and, alas! could not pay it; and his wife and children were much distressed. I believe they feared he would be arrested. Everything is known in a village; and the news of what was feared reached the Gipsies. The idea of their friend Pe-tee being in such trouble was not borne quietly; the chief and one or two more appeared at the farm-house, asking to see my grandmother. They told her they had come to pay my grandfather’s debt; ‘he should never be distressed for the money,’ they said, ‘as long as they had any.’ I believe some arrangement had been made about the debt, but nevertheless my grandmother felt just as grateful for the kindness. The head of the tribe wore guineas instead of buttons to his coat, and when his daughter was married her dowry was measured in guineas, in a pint measure. I suppose, as in the old ballad of ‘The Beggar of Bethnal Green,’ the suitor would give measure for measure. The villagers all turned out to gaze each year when they heard the ‘Boswell gang’ were coming down the one long street; the women of the tribe, fine, bold, handsome-looking women, in ‘black beaver bonnets, with black feathers and red cloaks,’ sometimes quarrelled, and my mother, then a girl, saw the procession several times stop in the middle of the village, and two women (sometimes more) would fall out of the ranks, hand their bonnets to friends, strip off cloak and gown, and fight in their ‘shift’ sleeves, using their fists like men. The men of the tribe took no notice, stood quietly about till the fight was over, and then the whole bevy passed on to their camping-ground. My grandfather never passed the tents without calling in to see his friends, and it would have been an offence indeed if he had not partaken of some refreshment. Two or three times my mother accompanied him, and whenever and wherever they met her they were always very kind and respectful to ‘Pe-tee’s little girl.’ In after years, when visiting her native village, she often inquired if it was known what had become of the tribe; at last she heard from some one it was thought they