it was with pride that he
invited us to drink ale, and once in the bar-room, where all assembled
were jockeys and sharps, conversed loudly in Romany, in order to exhibit
himself and us to admiring friends. A Romany rye, on such occasions, is
to a Sam Petulengro what a scion of royalty is to minor aristocracy when
it can lure him into its nets. To watch one of these small horse-dealers
at a fair, and to observe the manner in which he conducts his bargains,
is very curious. He lounges about all day, apparently doing nothing; he
is the only idler around. Once in a while somebody approaches him and
mutters something, to which he gives a brief reply. Then he goes to a
tap-room or stable-yard, and is merged in a mob of his mates. But all
the while he is doing sharp clicks of business. There is somebody
talking to another party about _that horse_; somebody telling a farmer
that he knows a young man as has got a likely 'oss at 'arf price, the
larst of a lot which he wants to clear out, and it may be 'ad, but if the
young man sees 'im [the farmer] he may put it on 'eavy.

Then the agent calls in one of the disguised Romanys to testify to the
good qualities of the horse. They look at it, but the third _deguise_,
who has it in charge, avers that it has just been sold to a gentleman.
But they have another. By this time the farmer wishes he had bought the
horse. When any coin slips from between our fingers, and rolls down
through a grating into the sewer, we are always sure that it was a
sovereign, and not a half-penny. Yes, and the fish which drops back from
the line into the river is always the biggest take--or mistake--of the
day. And this horse was a bargain, and the three in disguise say so, and
wish they had a hundred like it. But there comes a Voice from the
depths, a casual remark, offering to bet that 'ere gent won't close on
that hoss. "Bet yer ten bob he will." "Done." "How do yer know he
don't take the hoss?" "He carn't; he's too heavy loaded with Bill's
mare. Says he'll sell it for a pound better." The farmer begins to see
his way. He is shrewd; it may be that he sees through all this myth of
"the gentleman." But his attention has been attracted to the horse.
Perhaps he pays a little more, or "the pound better;" in greater
probability he gets Sam's horse for the original price. There are many
ways among gypsies of making such bargains, but the motive power of them
all is _taderin_, or drawing the ey