enemy
But winter and rough weather.'"
Relieved from his former fear, but with increased curiosity at this
quotation, which was half said, half sung, in a tone which seemed to
evince a hearty relish for the sense of the words, the youth replied,--
"Truly, I did not expect to meet among the travellers of this wild
country with so well-stored a memory. And, indeed, I should have
imagined that the only persons to whom your verses could exactly have
applied were those honourable vagrants from the Nile whom in vulgar
language we term gypsies."
"Precisely so, sir," answered the tall stranger, indifferently;
"precisely so. It is to that ancient body that I belong."
"The devil you do!" quoth the youth, in unsophisticated surprise; "the
progress of education is indeed astonishing!"
"Why," answered the stranger, laughing, "to tell you the truth, sir,
I am a gypsy by inclination, not birth. The illustrious Bamfylde Moore
Carew is not the only example of one of gentle blood and honourable
education whom the fleshpots of Egypt have seduced."
"I congratulate myself," quoth the youth, in a tone that might have
been in jest, "upon becoming acquainted with a character at once so
respectable and so novel; and, to return your quotation in the way of
a compliment, I cry out with the most fashionable author of Elizabeth's
days,--
'O for a bowl of fat Canary,
Rich Palermo, sparkling Sherry,'
in order to drink to our better acquaintance."
"Thank you, sir,--thank you," cried the strange gypsy, seemingly
delighted with the spirit with which his young acquaintance appeared to
enter into his character, and his quotation from a class of authors at
that time much less known and appreciated than at present; "and if you
have seen already enough of the world to take up with ale when neither
Canary, Palermo, nor Sherry are forthcoming, I will promise, at least,
to pledge you in large draughts of that homely beverage. What say you
to passing a night with us? our tents are yet more at hand than the
public-house of which I spoke to you." The young man hesitated a moment,
then replied,--
"I will answer you frankly, my friend, even though I may find cause to
repent my confidence. I have a few guineas about me, which, though not
a large sum, are my all. Now, however ancient and honourable your
fraternity may be, they labour under a sad confusion, I fear, in their
ideas of meum and tuum."
"Faith, sir, I believe you are right;
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