“A strange house is this,” said I to Antonio, one morning as he was on the point of saddling his mule and departing, as I supposed, on the affairs of Egypt; “a strange house and strange people. That gypsy grandmother has all the appearance of a _sowanee_.” “All the appearance of one!” said Antonio; “and is she not really one? She knows more crabbed things and crabbed words than all the _Errate_ betwixt here and Catalonia. She has been amongst the wild Moors, and can make more _draos_, {122} poisons, and philtres than any one alive. She once made a kind of paste, and persuaded me to taste, and shortly after I had done so my soul departed from my body, and wandered through horrid forests and mountains, amidst monsters and _duendes_, during one entire night. She learned many things amidst the _Corahai_ which I should be glad to know.” “Have you been long acquainted with her?” said I. “You appear to be quite at home in this house.” “Acquainted with her!” said Antonio. “Did not my own brother marry the black _Callí_, her daughter, who bore him the _chabí_, sixteen years ago, just before he was hanged by the _Busné_?” In the afternoon I was seated with the gypsy mother in the hall, the two _Callees_ were absent telling fortunes about the town and neighbourhood, which was their principal occupation. “Are you married, my London _Caloró_?” said the old woman to me. “Are you a _ro_?” _Myself_.—Wherefore do you ask, _O Dai de los Calés_? {123a} _Gypsy Mother_.—It is high time that the _lacha_ {123b} of the _chabi_ were taken from her, and that she had a _ro_. You can do no better than take her for _romí_, my London _Caloró_. _Myself_.—I am a stranger in this land, O mother of the gypsies, and scarcely know how to provide for myself, much less for a _romí_. _Gypsy Mother_.—She wants no one to provide for her, my London _Caloró_; she can at any time provide for herself and her _ro_. She can _hokkawar_, tell _baji_, and there are few to equal her at stealing _á pastesas_. {124} Were she once at _Madrilati_, where they tell me you are going, she would make much treasure; therefore take her thither, for in this _foros_ she is _nahi_, as it were, for there is nothing to be gained; but in the _foros baro_ it would be another matter; she would go dressed in _lachipé_ and _sonacai_, whilst you would ride about on your black-tailed _gra_; and when you had got much treasure, you might return hither and live like a _Crallis_, and all the _Errate_ of the _Chim del Manró_ should bow down their heads to you. What say you, my London _Caloró_, what say you to my plan? _Myself_.—Your plan is a plausible one, mother, or at least some people would think so; but I am, as you are aware, of another _chim_, and have no inclination to pass my life in this country.