Adventure stories; England -- Fiction; Romanies -- Fiction
It was evening: and myself and the two acquaintances I had made in the
fair--namely, the jockey and the tall foreigner--sat in a large upstairs
room, which looked into a court; we had dined with several people
connected with the fair at a long _table d'hote_; they had now departed,
and we sat at a small side-table with wine and a candle before us; both
my companions had pipes in their mouths--the jockey a common pipe, and
the foreigner, one, the syphon of which, made of some kind of wood, was
at least six feet long, and the bowl of which, made of a white kind of
substance like porcelain, and capable of holding nearly an ounce of
tobacco, rested on the ground. The jockey frequently emptied and
replenished his glass; the foreigner sometimes raised his to his lips,
for no other purpose seemingly than to moisten them, as he never drained
his glass. As for myself, though I did not smoke, I had a glass before
me, from which I sometimes took a sip. The room, notwithstanding the
window was flung open, was in general so filled with smoke, chiefly that
which was drawn from the huge bowl of the foreigner, that my companions
and I were frequently concealed from each other's eyes. The
conversation, which related entirely to the events of the fair, was
carried on by the jockey and myself, the foreigner, who appeared to
understand the greater part of what we said, occasionally putting in a
few observations in broken English. At length the jockey, after the
other had made some ineffectual attempts to express something
intelligibly which he wished to say, observed, "Isn't it a pity that so
fine a fellow as meinheer, and so clever a fellow too, as I believe him
to be, is not a better master of our language?"
"Is the gentleman a German?" said I; "if so, I can interpret for him
anything he wishes to say."
"The deuce you can," said the jockey, taking his pipe out of his mouth,
and staring at me through the smoke.
"Ha! you speak German," vociferated the foreigner in that language. "By
Isten, I am glad of it! I wanted to say--" And here he said in German
what he wished to say, and which was of no great importance, and which I
translated into English.
"Well, if you don't put me out," said the jockey; "what language is
that--Dutch?"
"High Dutch," said I.
"High Dutch, and you speak High Dutch,--why, I had booked you for as
great an ignoramus as myself, who can't write--no, nor distinguish in a
book a great A from a bull's foot."
"A person may be a very clever man," said I--"no, not a clever man, for
clever signifies clerkly, and a clever man one who is able to read and
write, and entitled to the benefit of his clergy or clerkship; but a
person may be a very acute person without being able to read or write. I
never saw a more acute countenance than your own."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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