The Gipsy: A Tale (Vols I & II)James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
General
The Gipsy: A Tale (Vols I & II)
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
Romanies -- Fiction
"Well, give me the brown meat for my share," answered Pharold; "I will
eat none of the white things that they have fattened and fed up with
their hoarded corn, and have watched early and late, like a sick
child. Give me the free beast that runs wild, and by nature's law
belongs to no one but him who catches it."
"No, no, Pharold, you must have your share of turkey too," cried the
old lady; for although it may appear strange, yet as there is honour
among thieves, so there may be sometimes that sort of generosity among
gipsies which led the good dame who, on the present occasion, presided
over the pot--though, to judge by her size and proportions, and to
gauge her appetite by the Lavater standard of her mouth, she could
have eaten the whole turkey of which she spoke herself--which led her,
I say, to press Pharold to his food with hospitable care, declaring
that he was a "king of a fellow, though somewhat whimsical."
The gipsies now drew round their fire, and scouts being thrown out
on either side to guard against interruption, the pot was unswung
from the cross bars that sustained it, trenchers and knives were
produced, and, with nature's green robe for a table-cloth, a plentiful
supper of manifold good things was spread before the race of
wanderers. Nor was the meal unjoyous, nor were their figures--at all
times picturesque--without an appearance of loftier beauty and more
symmetrical grace, as, reclining on triclinia of nature's providing,
with the fire and the evening twilight casting strange lights upon
them, they fell into those free and easy attitudes which none but the
children of wild activity can assume. The women of the party had all
come forth from their huts, and among them were two or three lovely
creatures as any race ever produced, from the chosen Hebrew to the
beauty-dreaming Greek. In truth, there seemed more women than men of
the tribe, and there certainly were more children than either; but due
subordination was not wanting; and the urchins who were ranged behind
the backs of the rest, though they wanted not sufficient food,
intruded not upon the circle of their elders.
Scarcely, however, had the first mouthfuls been swallowed, and the cup
passed its round, when the farthest scout--a boy of about twelve years
of age--ran in, and whispered the mystical words, "A horse's feet!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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