Bamfylde Moore Carew (1693-? 1770), the son of the rector of Bickleigh, near Tiverton, is semi-mythical, though we know that a man of that name did really marry at Stoke Damerel, near Plymouth, one Mary Gray on 29th December 1733. Gray is an old Gypsy surname, but the Gypsies of his _Life and Adventures_ are just as unreal as those of any melodrama or penny dreadful. The poet-physician, John Armstrong (_c._ 1709-78), was at college at Edinburgh with Mr. Lawrie, who in 1767 was minister of Hawick; and "one year, during the vacation, they joined a band of gipsies, who in those days much infested the Borders." So says "Jupiter" Carlyle in his Autobiography; and he adds that "this expedition, which really took place, as Armstrong informed me in London, furnished Lawrie with a fine field for fiction and rhodomontade, so closely united to the groundwork, which might be true, that it was impossible to discompound them." The fourth Lord Coleraine, better known as Colonel George Hanger (_c._ 1751-1824), was a wild, harum-scarum Irishman. According to the Hon. Grantley Berkeley's _My Life and Recollections_, "in one of his early rambles he joined a gang of gipsies, fell in love with one of their dark- eyed beauties, and married her according to the rites of the tribe. He had entered the footguards in 1771, and used to introduce his brother- officers to his dusky bride, boasting his confidence in her fidelity. His married life went on pleasantly for about a fortnight, at the end of which his confidence and his bliss were destroyed together, on ascertaining to his intense disgust that his gipsy inamorata had eloped with a bandy-legged tinker." Very unlike the Colonel was the mythologist, Jacob Bryant (1715-1804). We know the little man, with his thirteen spaniels, through Madame D'Arblay's Diaries; she often visited Cypenham, his house near Windsor. It must have been in his garden here that he collected his materials for the paper "On the Zingara or Gypsey Language," which he read to the Royal Society in 1785. For "_covascorook_, laurel," is intelligible only by supposing him to have pointed to a laurel, and asked, "What is this?" and by the Gypsy's answering in words that mean "This is a tree." There are a number of similar slips in the vocabulary, as _sauvee_, an eagle (rightly, a needle), _porcherie_, brass (a halfpenny, a copper), _plastomingree_, couch (coach), and _baurobevalacochenos_, storm. This last word posed the etymological skill of even Prof. Pott in his great work on _Die Zigeuner_, but he hazards the conjecture that _cochenos_ may be akin to the Greek [Greek text]; really the whole may be dismembered into _bauro_, great, _baval_, wind, and the English "a-catching us." Still, Bryant's is not at all a bad vocabulary.