loups_. "Ain't it wrong to
steal dese here chickens?" asked a negro who was seized with scruples
while helping to rob a hen-roost. "Dat, Cuff, am a great moral question,
an' we haint got time to discuss it--so jist hand down anoder pullet."

I found that Henry had much curious knowledge as to old Rommany ways,
though he spoke with little respect of the Gipsy of the olden time, who,
as he declared, thought all he needed in life was to get a row of silver
buttons on his coat, a pair of high boots on his feet, and
therewith--_basta_! He had evidently met at one time with Mr George
Borrow, as appeared by his accurate description of that gentleman's
appearance, though he did not know his name. "Ah! he could talk the jib
first-rateus," remarked my informant; "and he says to me, 'Bless you!
you've all of you forgotten the real Gipsy language, and don't know
anything about it at all.' Do you know Old Frank?" he suddenly inquired.

"Avo," I replied. "He's the man who has been twice in America."

"But d'ye know how rich he is? He's got money in bank. And when a man
gets money in bank, _I_ say there is somethin' in it. An' how do you
suppose he made that money?" he inquired, with the air of one who is
about to "come down with a stunner." "He did it _a-dukkerin_'." {171}
But he pronounced the word _durkerin_'; and I, detecting at once, as I
thought, an affinity with the German "turkewava," paused and stared, lost
in thought. My pause was set down to amazement, and the Ancient Henry
repeated--

"Fact. By _durkerin_'. I don't wonder you're astonished. Tellin'
fortunes just like a woman. It isn't every man who could do that. But I
suppose you could," he continued, looking at me admiringly. "You know
all the ways of the Gorgios, an' could talk to ladies, an' are up to high
life; ah, you could make no end of money. Why don't you do it?"

Innocent Gipsy! was this thy idea of qualification for a seer and a
reader of dark lore? What wouldst thou say could I pour into thy brain
the contents of the scores of works on "occult nonsense," from Agrippa to
Zadkiel, devoured with keen hunger in the days of my youth? Yes, in
solemn sadness, out of the whole I have brought no powers of divination;
and in it all found nothing so strange as the wondrous tongue in which we
spoke. In this mystery called Life many ways have been proposed to me of
alleviating its expenses; as, for instance, when the old professor
earnestly commen