IT might be about five in the evening when I reached the gypsy encampment. Here I found Mr. Petulengro, Tawno Chikno, Sylvester and others in a great bustle, clipping and trimming certain ponies and old horses which they had brought with them. On inquiring of Jasper the reason of their being so engaged, he informed me that they were getting the horses ready for a fair, which was to be held on the morrow, at a place some miles distant, at which they should endeavour to dispose of them, adding: “Perhaps, brother, you will go with us, provided you have nothing better to do?” Not having any particular engagement, I assured him that I should have great pleasure in being of the party. It was agreed that we should start early on the following morning. Thereupon I descended into the dingle. Belle was sitting before the fire, at which the kettle was boiling. “Were you waiting for me?” I inquired. “Yes,” said Belle; “I thought that you would come, and I waited for you.” “That was very kind,” said I. “Not half so kind,” said she, “as it was of you to get everything ready for me in the dead of last night, when there was scarcely a chance of my coming.” The tea-things were brought forward, and we sat down. “Have you been far?” said Belle. “Merely to that public-house,” said I, “to which you directed me on the second day of our acquaintance.” “Young men should not make a habit of visiting public-houses,” said Belle; “they are bad places.” “They may be so to some people,” said I, “but I do not think the worst public-house in England could do me any harm.” “Perhaps you are so bad already,” said Belle, with a smile, “that it would be impossible to spoil you.” “How dare you catch at my words?” said I; “come, I will make you pay for doing so—you shall have this evening the longest lesson in Armenian which I have yet inflicted upon you.” “You may well say inflicted,” said Belle, “but pray spare me. I do not wish to hear anything about Armenian, especially this evening.” “Why this evening?” said I. Belle made no answer. “I will not spare you,” said I; “this evening I intend to make you conjugate an Armenian verb.” “Well, be it so,” said Belle; “for this evening you shall command.” “To command is _hramahyel_,” said I. “Ram her ill, indeed,” said Belle; “I do not wish to begin with that.” “No,” said I, “as we have come to the verbs, we will begin regularly; _hramahyel_ is a verb of the second conjugation. We will begin with the first.” “First of all tell me,” said Belle, “what a verb is?” “A part of speech,” said I, “which, according to the dictionary, signifies some action or passion; for example, I command you, or I hate you.” “I have given you no cause to hate me,” said Belle, looking me sorrowfully in the face.