er. In another tent
there is man, wife, and one child. When I was there, on the Sunday
afternoon, they were expecting the Gipsy "to come home to his tent drunk
and wake the baby." In another tent there was a Gipsy with his lawful
wife and three children. One of the Gipsy women in the yard frequently
came home drunk, and I have seen her smoking with a black pipe in her
mouth three parts tipsy. Now, I ask my countrymen if this is the way to
either improve the habits and morals of the Gipsies themselves, or to set
a good example to day and Sunday scholars. Drunkenness is one of the
evil associations of Gipsy life. Brandy and "fourpenny," or "hell fire,"
as it is sometimes called, are their chief drinks. A Gipsy of the name
of Lee boasted to me only a day or two since that he had been drunk every
night for more than a fortnight, his language being, "Oh! it is
delightful to get drunk, tumble into a row, and smash their peepers.
What care we for the bobbies." They seldom if ever use tumblers. A
large jug is filled with this stuff, in colour and thickness almost like
treacle and water, leaving a kind of salty taste behind it as it passes
out of sight; but, I am sorry to say, not out of the body, mind, or
brain, leaving a trail upon which is written--more! more! more! Under
its influence they either turn saints or demons as will best serve their
purpose. The more drink some of the Gipsy women get the more the red
coloured piety is observable in their faces, and when I have been talking
to them, or otherwise, they have said, "Amen," "Bless the Lord," "Oh, it
is nice to be 'ligious and Christany," as they have closed round me; and
with the same breath they have begun to talk of murder, bloodshed, and
revenge, and to say, "How nice it is to get a living by telling lies."
Half an ounce of tobacco and a few gentle words have a most wonderful
effect upon their spirits and nerves under such circumstances. I have
frequently seen drunken Gipsy women in the streets of London. Early this
year I met one of my old Gipsy women friends in Garrett Lane, Wandsworth,
with evidently more than she could carry, and a weakness was observable
in her knees; and when she saw me she was not so far gone as not to know
who I was. She tried to make a curtsy, and in doing so very nearly lost
her balance, and it took her some ten yards to recover her perpendicular.
With a little struggling, stuttering, and stumbling, she got right, and
pursued h