ded that we two should obtain (I trust honestly) a donkey
and a _rinkni juva_, who by telling fortunes should entirely contribute
to our maintenance, and so wander cost-free, and _kost-frei_ over merrie
England. But I threw away the golden opportunity--ruthlessly rejected
it--thereby incurring the scorn of all scientific philologists (none of
whom, I trow, would have lost such a chance). It was for doing the same
thing that Matthew Arnold immortalised a clerke of Oxenforde: though it
may be that "since Elizabeth" such exploits have lost their prestige, as
I knew of two students at the same university who a few years ago went
off on a six weeks' lark with two Gipsy girls; but who, far from desiring
to have the fact chronicled in immortal rhyme, were even much afraid lest
it should get into the county newspaper!

Leaving the basketmakers (among whom I subsequently found a
grand-daughter of the celebrated Gipsy Queen, Charlotte Stanley), I went
up the river, and there, above the bridge, found, as if withdrawn in
pride, two other tents, by one of which stood a very pretty little girl
of seven or eight years with a younger brother. While talking to the
children, their father approached leading a horse. I had never seen him
before, but he welcomed me politely in Rommany, saying that I had been
pointed out to him as the Rommany rye, and that his mother, who was
proficient in their language, was very desirous of meeting me. He was
one of the smiths--a Petulengro or Petulamengro, or master of the horse-
shoe, a name familiar to all readers of Lavengro.

This man was a full Gipsy, but he spoke better English, as well as better
Rommany, than his neighbours, and had far more refinement of manner. And
singularly enough, he appeared to be simpler hearted and more unaffected,
with less Gipsy trickery, and more of a disposition for honest labour.
His brother and uncle were, indeed, hard at work among the masons in a
new building not far off, though they lived like true Gipsies in a tent.
Petulamengro, as the name is commonly given at the present day, was
evidently very proud of his Rommany, and talked little else: but he could
not speak it nearly so well nor so fluently as his mother, who was of
"the old sort," and who was, I believe, sincerely delighted that her
skill was appreciated by me. All Gipsies are quite aware that their
language is very old and curious, but they very seldom meet with Gorgios
who are familiar with the f