psies' Dingle," said the man in black.

"Good," said I; "and this forge and tent, what do they look like?"

"Like the forge and tent of a wandering Zigan; I have seen the like in
Italy."

"Good," said I; "they belong to me."

"Are you, then, a Gypsy?" said the man in black.

"What else should I be?"

"But you seem to have been acquainted with various individuals with whom
I have likewise had acquaintance; and you have even alluded to matters,
and even words, which have passed between me and them."

"Do you know how Gypsies live!" said I.

"By hammering old iron, I believe, and telling fortunes."

"Well," said I, "there's my forge, and yonder is some iron, though not
old, and by your own confession I am a soothsayer."

"But how did you come by your knowledge?"

"Oh," said I, "if you want me to reveal the secrets of my trade, I have,
of course, nothing further to say. Go to the scarlet dyer, and ask him
how he dyes cloth."

"Why scarlet?" said the man in black. "Is it because Gypsies blush like
scarlet?"

"Gypsies never blush," said I; "but Gypsies' cloaks are scarlet."

"I should almost take you for a Gypsy," said the man in black, "but for--"

"For what?" said I.

"But for that same lesson in Armenian, and your general knowledge of
languages; as for your manners and appearance I will say nothing," said
the man in black, with a titter.

"And why should not a Gypsy possess a knowledge of languages?" said I.

"Because the Gypsy race is perfectly illiterate," said the man in black;
"they are possessed, it is true, of a knavish acuteness, and are
particularly noted for giving subtle and evasive answers--and in your
answers, I confess, you remind me of them; but that one of the race
should acquire a learned language like the Armenian, and have a general
knowledge of literature, is a thing che io non credo afatto."

"What do you take me for?" said I.

"Why," said the man in black, "I should consider you to be a philologist,
who, for some purpose, has taken up a Gypsy life; but I confess to you
that your way of answering questions is far too acute for a philologist."

"And why should not a philologist be able to answer questions acutely?"
said I.

"Because the philological race is the most stupid under Heaven," said the
man in black; "they are possessed, it is true, of a certain faculty for
picking up words, and a memory for retaining them; but that any one of
the sect should be able to give a ratio