Gipsy Encampment, International Exhibition, Liverpool, 1886. * * * * * _Extract from the_ “_Liverpool Courier_,” _June_ 16_th_, 1886. The King and Queen (Mr. George Smith and Mrs. Smith) were “at home,” and they and their four comely daughters were the cynosure of all eyes. A distinguishing feature of these “Epping Forest” Gipsies is their extreme cleanliness. Their tent is scrupulously neat and tidy, its appointments are comfortable not to say luxurious, and the caravan reveals the snug sleeping chamber of the daughters of their majesties. Fortune-telling is not the stock-in-trade of the tribe, but the dark-skinned “Gitanos” do not absolutely refuse to have their palms crossed if credulous ladies will insist in peering into the future. We understand that these descendants of Romany Ri have had the honour of appearing before the Queen in Dunbar, Scotland, and although the King does not impress one by his tawny skin he is a genuine ruler and speaks Romany. * * * * * _Extract from the_ “_Liverpool Review_,” _June_ 19_th_, 1886. The poor Laplanders have now to play second fiddle to another wandering tribe whose origin is lost in the mists of antiquity. Ever since their celebrated moonlight flit the little northerners had been under a cloud, but their social extinction has been completed by the advent of the “Epping Forest Gipsies.” The King and Queen of these nomads bear the prosaic name of Smith. Nevertheless they claim to be in the line of descent of “Romany Ri.” It is an open question whether the Gitano complexion—the tawny complexion, the vellum of the pedigree they claim—cannot be whitened by partaking of gin and water in unfair proportions. This result is sometimes brought about among certain vagabond followers of Isis, but it would be the height of injustice to suggest that such retributive facial pallor can be laid to the account of Mr. George Smith, the ruler of the Exhibition gipsy encampment. The absence of swarthiness in his Majesty’s case must be attributed to other causes, for if rumour is correct we believe the monarch is a staunch teetotaler. Like the great majority of Bohemians, he is addicted to trafficking in horses, while his Royal consort and her young princesses do a good business in basket selling and fortune telling. The Queen is well known in the neighbourhood of Everton, hers being one of the most familiar figures to those who are in the habit of travelling to town in trams. For some time past she has chosen Liverpool as her winter residence, pitching her camp on the waste ground near Walton Breck, and during the absence of her lord and master in Ireland her caravan has been the resort of credulous nursemaids and naïve servant girls. A more respectable tribe than that of the Smiths never trod the open heath. They might be objected to as being a little too genteel. The interior of