Some of the audience had come from another camp at a little distance, and as the night was very dark some one voiced their desire for a lantern. Fortunately, I was able to procure an oil torch designed for outdoor use, so with this flaming merrily, I led the way at the head of a band of Romanies. We were a merry party and a good deal of jesting was indulged in. Before separating, and while we were in a lane with a steep bank on each side, some one suggested the Romany dance and the hint was at once acted upon. It would seem that from earliest times these people have numbered amongst them many excellent dancers and singers, and what I now witnessed demonstrated beyond doubt that their love of song and the dance is as strong to-day as in the past. The company disposed themselves in a circle and two or three couples went into the ring, a song was started and time was kept by the clapping of hands. Some one said— “Go it! dance away, it’s early yet, we are all Romanies here and the kushti Romany Rye’s lelled a moomli so we can dick the dancing.” Then upon the request “Now, all together, please,” each of the dancers clasped a partner, and with cheeks touching, the whirling commenced. Another, then another, fascinated by the movements of the dancers, entered the ring and took part, either in a species of step-dance or by executing the mazy whirl. The dance was performed with all the zest and vivacity of the Italian tarantella, but instead of being accompanied by such songs as are favoured by some of the peasants who perform the tarantella,—of which the subjoined insensate couplet is an example— “Fegato fritto e baccalà! In ’ccoppo ’na camera a pazzia.” (With dried salt cod and liver-fry Up in a room to play sky-high)— lively English songs, into which Romany words were inserted when they happened to rhyme,—were sung with gusto by the entire company. Had there been any gorgios present they could not have failed to be amused and puzzled by these songs, of which the words were a mosaic of poggado jib sung to dance time. The play of light as it fell upon the throng, catching here a kerchief of yellow or other brilliant colour on head or shoulders, there a necklace of bright red beads, a gold brooch or large ear-rings,—produced an effect that would have gladdened the heart of a painter, the _tout ensemble_—even if a little barbaric—being quite captivating. Swarthy skins seemed still darker by the torchlight, and as the excitement increased, eyes flashed as only a Romany’s can, and, one after another, dark-eyed belles flashed by; I could imagine no term more aptly descriptive of each than their own musical words, “rinkeny chovahani.” [Illustration: “DUI KUSHTI KAULO YOCKS.”] At last, the dance ended almost as suddenly as it had been begun and the merry party broke up.