r all, sister."

"I say, brother, tell me one thing, and look me in the face--there--do
you speak Rommany?"

"Rommany! Rommany! what is Rommany?"

"What is Rommany? our language, to be sure; tell me, brother, only one
thing, you don't speak Rommany?"

"You say it."

"I don't say it, I wish to know. Do you speak Rommany?"

"Do you mean thieves' slang--cant? no, I don't speak cant, I don't like
it, I only know a few words; they call a sixpence a tanner, don't they?"

"I don't know," said the girl, sitting down on the ground, "I was almost
thinking--well, never mind, you don't know Rommany. I say, brother, I
think I should like to have the kekaubi."

"I thought you said it was badly mended?"

"Yes, yes, brother, but--"

"I thought you said it was only fit to be played at football with?"

"Yes, yes, brother, but--"

"What will you give for it?"

"Brother, I am the poor person's child, I will give you sixpence for the
kekaubi."

"Poor person's child; how came you by that necklace?"

"Be civil, brother; am I to have the kekaubi?"

"Not for sixpence; isn't the kettle nicely mended?"

"I never saw a nicer mended kettle, brother; am I to have the kekaubi,
brother?"

"You like me then?"

"I don't dislike you--I dislike no one; there's only one, and him I don't
dislike, him I hate."

"Who is he?"

"I scarcely know, I never saw him, but 'tis no affair of yours, you don't
speak Rommany; you will let me have the kekaubi, pretty brother?"

"You may have it, but not for sixpence, I'll give it to you."

"Parraco tute, that is, I thank you, brother; the rikkeni kekaubi is now
mine. O, rare! I thank you kindly, brother."

Starting up, she flung the bulrush aside which she had hitherto held in
her hand, and seizing the kettle, she looked at it for a moment, and then
began a kind of dance, flourishing the kettle over her head the while,
and singing--

"The Rommany chi
And the Rommany chal,
Shall jaw tasaulor
To drab the bawlor,
And dook the gry
Of the farming rye."

"Good by, brother I must be going."

"Good by, sister; why do you sing that wicked song?"

"Wicked song, hey, brother! you don't understand the song!"

"Ha, ha! gypsy daughter," said I, starting up and clapping my hands, "I
don't understand Rommany, don't I? You shall see; here's the answer to
your gillie--

'The Rommany chi
And the Rommany chal
Love Luripen
And dukkeripen,
And hokke