Follasi, or follasy, is a lady's glove. Nakelas. I learned this word from an old gypsy. It is used as equivalent to don't, but also means ná (kélas), you don't play. From kel-ava, I play. Ján, Ja-an, Go on. From java, I go. Hindu, jána, and jáo. Kivi, or keevy. No meaning. Kavi, a kettle, from kekavi, commonly given as kavi. Greek, kekkabos. Hindu, kal, a box. Stini. No meaning that I know. Stáni. A buck. Of the last line it may be remarked that if we take from ingle 'em (angle 'em), which is probably added for mere jingle, there remains stán, or stáni, "a buck," followed by the very same word in English. With the mournful examples of Mr. Bellenden Kerr's efforts to show that all our old proverbs, saws, sayings, and tavern signs are Dutch, and Sir William Betham's Etruscan-Irish, and the works of an army of "philologists," who consider mere chance resemblance to be a proof of identical origin, I should be justly regarded as one of the seekers for mystery in moonshine if I declared that I positively believed this to be Romany. But it certainly contains words which, without any stretching or fitting, are simply gypsy, and I think it not improbable that it was some sham charm used by some Romany fortune-teller to bewilder Gorgios. Let the reader imagine the burnt-sienna, wild-cat-eyed old sorceress performing before a credulous farm-wife and her children, the great ceremony of hakkni pánki--which Mr. Borrow calls hokkani baro, but for which there is a far deeper name--that of "the great secret"--which even my best Romany friends tried to conceal from me. This is to lel dudikabin--to "take lightment." In the oldest English canting, lightment occurs as an equivalent for theft--whether it came from Romany, or Romany from it, I cannot tell. This feat--which is described by almost every writer on Gypsies--is performed by inducing some woman of largely magnified faith to believe that there is hidden in her house a magic treasure, which can only be made "to come to hand" by depositing in the cellar another treasure, to which it will come by natural affinity and attraction. "For gold, as you sees, draws gold, my deari, and so if you ties up all your money in a pocket-handkercher, an' leaves it, you'll find it doubled. An' wasn't there the Squire's lady--you know Mrs. Trefarlo, of course--and didn't she draw two hundred old gold guineas out of the ground where they'd laid in an old grave--and only one guinea she gave me for all my trouble; an' I hope you'll do better than that for the poor old gypsy, my deari----."