Almost everyone has some recollection of the brown tents of the gypsy fraternity, which, at longer or shorter intervals, may be seen dotted here and there upon the commons. Comparatively few, however, have any close-range acquaintance even with the exterior of these primitive dwellings, and fewer still have any idea of the arrangement of the interior. In many of the poorest tents of the gypsies of southern England there really is no arrangement, in fact, there is almost “no nothing,” as someone with a touch of pathetic facetiousness has described their condition, but the tent in which I now found myself belonged to a family of genuine Romanies and differed somewhat from those of the poorer tent-dwellers. The fire—whose fumes had at first given me trouble—was contained in a circular and rather deep kind of iron tray about fifteen inches in diameter which was kept from actual contact with the ground by being supported on three old bricks; over the fire a kettle was suspended by the kekauvisky saster—frequently called a crane—the kettle iron. Reference to our illustration on page 38 will enable one at a glance to get an idea of the general arrangement. At the end farthest removed from the fire were the beds, in front of which, and raised some four or five inches from the floor, was a sort of divan composed of straw evenly laid and covered with cloths, the remainder of the floor space being bare earth. Curtains were hung before the beds, giving something of an Oriental air to the interior. There were, too, a few cushions that had seen much service but nevertheless were clean, besides which there was practically nothing but the customary box for the storage of china and food, and yet this was, and had been for more than twenty years, the dwelling of these Romany folk, honest people, who had worked hard—often for a bare subsistence—but who had nevertheless reared a large family of healthy children without appealing to charity. And they were proud, too, boasting of a long line of proud ancestors. This set me a-thinking, and as I sat there these thoughts passed through my mind: “If pride in one’s ancestry is justifiable, have not these people far saner reasons for such pride than those who boast of having ‘come over with the Conqueror’?” It is indeed true that their Romany forbears were not numbered among the cut-throat rabble who accompanied the historic William of Normandy, but they come of a people who had a history, literature and a language when that gentleman made his début.