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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e93eede --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #62432 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/62432) diff --git a/old/62432-0.txt b/old/62432-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 1a60056..0000000 --- a/old/62432-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,13826 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, I've been a Gipsying, by George Smith, -Illustrated by E. Weldon - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - - -Title: I've been a Gipsying - - -Author: George Smith - - - -Release Date: June 20, 2020 [eBook #62432] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK I'VE BEEN A GIPSYING*** - - -Transcribed from the 1885 T. Fisher Unwin edition by David Price, email -ccx074@pglaf.org - - [Picture: Book cover] - - [Picture: My visit to English Gipsy children on the outskirts of London] - - - - - - I’VE BEEN A GIPSYING - - - OR - _RAMBLES AMONG_ - _OUR GIPSIES AND THEIR CHILDREN_ - _IN THEIR TENTS AND VANS_ - - * * * * * - - BY - GEORGE SMITH _of Coalville_. - - * * * * * - - POPULAR EDITION, ILLUSTRATED. - - [Picture: Decorative graphic] - - London - T. FISHER UNWIN - 26, PATERNOSTER SQUARE, E.C. - 1885 - - _All Rights Reserved_. - - * * * * * - - - - -_Other Works by GEORGE SMITH of Coalville_. - - -THE CRY OF THE CHILDREN FROM THE BRICKYARDS OF ENGLAND. HAUGHTON & CO., -Paternoster Row, London. Cloth gilt, Illustrated, 3s. 6d. - -OUR CANAL POPULATION. HAUGHTON & CO. Cloth gilt, Illustrated, 3s. 6d. - -GIPSY LIFE. HAUGHTON & CO. Cloth gilt, profusely illustrated, 5s. - -CANAL ADVENTURES BY MOONLIGHT. HODDER & STOUGHTON. Paternoster Row, -London. Cloth gilt, Illustrated, 3s. 6d. - - * * * * * - - - - -To - - - THE RIGHT HON. LORD ABERDARE. - THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF STANHOPE. - THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF SHAFTSBURY. - THE RIGHT HON. THE MARQUIS OF TWEEDDALE. - THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF ABERDEEN. - THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF DERBY, K.G. - THE RIGHT HON. EARL GRANVILLE, K.G. - THE RIGHT HON. THE MARQUIS OF SALISBURY, K.G. - THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF HARROWBY. - THE RIGHT HON. LORD CARRINGTON. - THE RIGHT HON. EARL CAIRNS. - THE RIGHT HON. W. E. GLADSTONE, M.P. - (First Lord of the Treasury.) - THE RIGHT HON. SIR STAFFORD NORTHCOTE, M.P. - THE RIGHT HON. SIR WILLIAM V. HARCOURT, M.P. - THE RIGHT HON. W. E. FORSTER, M.P. - THE RIGHT HON. SIR RICHARD A. CROSS, M.P. - THE RIGHT HON. SIR CHARLES W. DILKE, M.P. - THE RIGHT HON. A. J. MUNDELLA, M.P. - THE RIGHT HON. LORD JOHN MANNERS, M.P. - THE RIGHT HON. GEN. SIR H. F. PONSONBY, K.C.B. - THE RIGHT HON. LORD RICHARD GROSVENOR, M.P. - THE RIGHT HON. LORD KENSINGTON, M.P. - THE RIGHT HON. SIR M. H. BEACH, BART., M.P. - THE RIGHT HON. JOSEPH CHAMBERLAIN, M.P. - THE HON. LORD RANDOLPH CHURCHILL, M.P. - THE RIGHT HON. G. SCLATER-BOOTH, M.P. - SIR H. J. SELWIN-IBBETSON, BART., M.P. - SIR HENRY T. HOLLAND, BART., M.P. - SIR JAMES C. LAWRENCE, BART, M.P. - SIR E. A. H. LECHMERE, BART., M.P. - J. T. HIBBERT, ESQ., M.P. T. SALT, ESQ., M.P. - SAMUEL MORLEY, ESQ., M.P. - JOHN WALTER, ESQ., M.P. WILLIAM RATHBONE, ESQ., M.P. - THOMAS BURT, ESQ., M.P. ALEX. MCARTHUR, ESQ., M.P. - COL. W. T. MAKINS, M.P. - A. PELL, ESQ., M.P. J. CORBETT, ESQ., M.P. - HENRY BROADHURST, ESQ., M.P.; AND FRANK A. BEVAN, ESQ. - - * * * * * - -MY LORDS AND GENTLEMEN,—I have taken the liberty of dedicating this -volume to you as being a few of the right-minded and right-hearted -friends of neglected children in our midst; and also to all well-wishers -of our highly favoured country, irrespective of sect, class, or party. -May its voice be heard! - -With the cries of the gipsy children and many prayers, I send it forth on -its mission. - - Very respectfully yours, - GEORGE SMITH, _of Coalville_. - -WELTON, DAVENTRY, - _Michaelmas_, 1884. - - * * * * * - -“GENERAL SIR HENRY F. PONSONBY _has received the Queen’s commands to -thank Mr. George Smith for sending the copy of his book for Her Majesty’s -acceptance_, _which accompanied his letter_. - -“PRIVY PURSE OFFICE, BUCKINGHAM PALACE, - _June_ 20, 1883.” - - * * * * * - - “10, DOWNING STREET, WHITEHALL. - _May_ 29, 1883. - -“_Sir_, - -“_I am directed by_ MR. GLADSTONE _to thank you for sending him your work -entitled_ ‘_I’ve Been a Gipsying_.’ - - “_I am Sir_, - _Your obedient servant_, - F. LEVESON GOWER. - -“GEORGE SMITH, ESQ.” - - * * * * * - - “30, ST. JAMES’S PLACE, S.W. - _May_ 25, 1883. - -“_Dear Sir_, - -“_Accept my best thanks for your book_, _which cannot fail to be most -interesting_, _both on account of the subject and of the writer_. _Your -good works will indeed live after you_. - - “_I remain_, _faithfully yours_, - STAFFORD H. NORTHCOTE. - -“GEORGE SMITH, ESQ., _of Coalville_.” - - - - -PREFATORY NOTE. - - -MY strong sympathy with the gipsies and their children would not allow of -my following the example of daisy-bank sentimental backwood gipsy -writers, whose special qualification is to flatter the gipsies with -showers of misleading twaddle to keep them in ignorance; but I have -preferred for my country’s welfare the path that has been rough, steep, -trying, and somewhat dangerous, and open to the misconception of those -little souls who look only at gipsy life through tinted or prismatic -spectacles. - -I have throughout tried to give both the lights and shades of a gipsy -wanderer’s life, and must leave the result for God to work out as He may -think well. - -There may be within these pages smiles for the simple, sighs for the sad, -tears for the sorrowful, joys for the joyous, ideas for the author, -simple hints for the thoughtful, problems for the inquisitive, prayers -for the prayerful, meditations for the Christian, plans of action for the -philanthropist, and suggestions for the statesman and lawgiver. - -The Brickyard, Canal, and Gipsy Children—as well as my humble self—will, -as they grow up into a better state of things, ever have cause to feel -thankful for the kindly help rendered to the cause by the publications of -the various sections of the Christian Church, including the Church of -England, the Presbyterians, the Wesleyans, Congregationalists, Baptists, -Primitive Methodists, Unitarians, Methodist Free Churches, Methodist New -Connexion, Roman Catholics, The Friends, Bible Christians, The Religious -Tract Society, Christian Knowledge Society, Sunday School Union, Messrs. -Cassell, and other Publishers, the Weekly and Daily Press throughout the -country, almost without exception, together with the various editors and -other writers whose name is Legion. - - - - -NOTE TO SECOND EDITION. - - -FOR the additional illustrations in this edition I owe my best thanks to -Mr. W. Weblyn, the proprietor and art editor of the _Illustrated Sporting -and Dramatic News_; Mr. A. Watson, the literary editor; and also to the -Rev. Edward Weldon, M.A., who accompanied me on one of my visits to the -gipsies to take the sketches, which appeared with an encouraging and -helpful notice on March 1, 1884. - -I am also much indebted to the Editor of the _Pall Mall Gazette_ for his -sketch and valuable help, and also to others with kind heart and ready -pen, whose names would fill a volume, for assisting me to place upon the -statute book the Canal Boats Act of 1884, which will, when the whole of -my plans are carried out, bring education and protection to 60,000 canal -and gipsy children, with but little cost or inconvenience to the van and -cabin dwellers. - - GEORGE SMITH, _of Coalville_. - -_Michaelmas_, 1884. - - - - -CONTENTS. - - I. - - SUNDAY RAMBLES AMONG THE GIPSIES UPON PUMP HILL. -Gipsy Smith’s quarters—Gipsy Brown’s wigwam—What I saw _p._ 1–20 -at the “Robin Hood”—Tea at Pethers’—Pethers’ trials and -reception by his mother - II. - - RAMBLES AMONG THE GIPSIES IN EPPING FOREST. -My companion “on the road”—The widow—Telling fortunes—My 20–33 -reception—A youth who had taken to gipsying—A drunken -lot—The Forest hotel—A gipsy hunt—Back to my lodgings - III. - - RAMBLES AMONG THE GIPSIES UPON WANSTEAD FLATS. -The Philanthropic Institution, Southwark—Mary 39–59 -Carpenter—Mr. Stevenson—Meeting with “an old fool”—A -fire king—A showman’s introduction—A school teacher—A -gipsy convert’s story—A flat’s row—My lodgings—Return -home - IV. - - RAMBLES AMONG THE GIPSIES AT NORTHAMPTON. -“On the road”—Upon the course—Seeds of thought—My 60–74 -salutation—A gipsy drinking rum out of a coffin—A -communist—A gipsy’s earnings—A gipsy child—A gipsy -steam-horse owner’s tale - V. - - RAMBLES AMONG THE GIPSIES AT WARWICK RACES. -What I saw and heard in the train—My lodgings—Germs of 75–91 -thought—A race after a dog—Meeting with the gipsy -Hollands and Claytons—Alfred Clayton’s trials and change -for good—The death of his child—Meets with an educated -youth—Clayton begins to pray—Race-goers - VI. - - RAMBLES AMONG THE GIPSIES AT BOUGHTON GREEN. -Polls, Jims, and Sals—Drawn to the Green—_Northampton 92–121 -Mercury_—Cowper’s poem—History of the Green—Spectacle -lane—Gipsy murders—Rows—Captain Slash—Sights upon the -Green—Gipsy dodges—My lodgings—At tea—Gipsy fight—Mine -hostess sings—My bed - VII. - - RAMBLES AMONG THE GIPSIES AT OXFORD FAIR. -Woman and child in the arms of death—Tramping with my 122–164 -loads—What I saw on the way—Travellers at -Paddington—Arriving at Oxford—What I saw on Sunday—My -lodging—Meet with Jenny Smith—Number of gipsies at -Oxford—Sights at Oxford—My visions during the night—A -gipsy showman—A walk with Nabob Brown—Gipsy -fairies—Gambling stalls—Boscoe—Backsliders turned -gipsies—My last peep—Letter in _The Daily News_—A gipsy -teaching her children to pray - VIII. - - RAMBLES AMONG THE GIPSIES AT HINCKLEY. -My tramp—A gipsy woman’s hardships—Row—Gipsy 165–196 -horse-dealing—A gipsy Smith—Salvation Army—My -lodgings—Aphorisms—A Sunday morning turn-out—Meeting -with the gipsies Bedman—Breakfast—A gipsy’s -creeds—Present-day gipsies—Burden’s poems - IX. - - AMONG THE GIPSIES AT LONG BUCKBY. -Romany—In the bye-lanes—By the side of the 197–225 -canal—Aphorisms—In the meadows near Murcott, and what I -saw—Scissor-grinding gipsy—A gipsy with her basket—A -stolen child among the gipsies—Friends—At the -gate—Coronation pole—G. Flash—Tear-fetching scene—An -engineer gipsy—His wife’s sufferings—Tramp from -Heckington to Spilsby - X. - - RAMBLES AT BULWELL AND NOTTINGHAM. -On the way to Leicester—My train experiences—A Sunday 226–251 -evening at Leicester—My lodgings—Meeting with gipsies -Winters and Smith at Nottingham—A child stolen—Congress -papers—Return home—Gipsies spreading disease—_Morning -Post_ - XI. - - RAMBLES AMONG THE GIPSIES AT DAVENTRY AND BANBURY. -My companions—Meeting with gipsy Mott—Gipsy 252–277 -horse-stealing—Gipsy showmen—Gipsy Smith’s -experiences—Start to Banbury—Gossip on the -road—Children’s revival at Byfield—My lodgings—My -hostess’s cats—My bed—What I saw on the way to -Banbury—Gipsy shows—Number of vans attending Banbury -fairs—Solo needed - XII. - - SHORT EXCURSIONS AND RAMBLES. -Gipsy sham—On the way to Edinburgh—What I saw at 278–303 -Leicester—Cherry Island—Hackney -Marshes—Bedford—Leicester fair—What others say—Letter -from Mr. Mundella—Essex quarter sessions—Question put to -the Government—How they treat gipsies in -Hungary—Question put to the Government through Mr. -Burt—My Bill—Visit to Turnham -Green—Fortune-telling—Gipsies round London - XIII. - - RAMBLES AMONG THE SCOTCH GIPSIES. -Wanderings of the brain—My start from Leicester—On the 304–338 -way to Carlisle—Germs of thought grown on the -way—Arrival at Kelso—My lodgings—A cold -night—Aphorisms—Start to Yetholm—Lovely snow—Arrival at -Yetholm—Leydon’s poems—Introduction to -Blythe—Parting—Meeting an old gipsy—Gipsy queens—Return -to my quarters—Baird’s work—Child sold to the -gipsies—Gipsy frozen to the ground—What England has -done—What she ought to do—Poem: Zutilla - APPENDIX A. -My plans _explained_ and _objections_ answered 339–351 - APPENDIX B. -Letter to the Right Hon. Earl Aberdare 352–355 - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. - -MY VISIT TO ENGLISH GIPSY CHILDREN ON THE OUTSKIRTS _Frontispiece_ -OF LONDON (_by E. Weldon_) -A HOUSE-DWELLING GIPSY’S WIGWAM NEAR LOUGHTON 1 -INSIDE A HOUSE-DWELLING GIPSY’S WIGWAM, PUMP HILL, 7 -EPPING FOREST -AN ENGLISH GIPSY COUNTESS ON THE “LOOK-OUT” (_by E. 35 -Weldon_) -TWO ENGLISH GIPSY PRINCESSES “AT HOME” (_by F. 51 -Weldon_) -AN ENGLISH GIPSY DUCHESS—SMITH—“RHEUMATICKY AND 69 -LAME” (by _E. Weldon_) -THE “SWEETS” AND “SOURS” OF GIPSY MARRIED LIFE (_by 116 -E. Weldon_) -“ON THE ROAD” TO OXFORD FAIR 123 -A SCISSOR-GRINDING GIPSY. “SCISSORS TO GRIND” 207 -GIPSY QUARTERS, PLAISTOW MARSHES 281 -AN ENGLISH GIPSY KING—“KRÁLIS”—LYING IN WAIT IN HIS 283 -PALACE, KRÁLISKO-KAIR (_by E. Weldon_) -GIPSY WINTER QUARTERS, YETHOLM 321 -ESTHER FAA BLYTHE—A SCOTCH GIPSY QUEEN 328 - - [Picture: A house-dwelling Gipsy’s wigwam near Loughton] - - - - -A Sunday Ramble among the Gipsies upon Pump Hill and Loughton. - - -SUNDAY, April 23, 1882, opened with a wet morning. The clouds were thick -and heavy. The smoke seemed to hover, struggle and rise again as if life -depended on its mounting higher than the patched and broken roofs of -London houses. The rain came down drearily, dribbly, and drizzly. It -hung upon my garments with saturating tendencies, and I really got wet -through before I was aware of it. The roads were very uncomfortable for -feet in non-watertight boots. Umbrellas were up. Single “chaps,” and -others in “couples” were wending their way across Victoria Park. The -school bells were chiming out in all directions “Come to school,” “It is -time,” “Do not delay,” “Come to school.” In response to the bell-calls -the little prattlers and toddlers were hurrying along to school. Their -big sisters, with “jerks and snatches,” frequently called out, “Now, -then, come along; we shall be too late; singing will be over, and if it -is I’ll tell your mother.” - -At Victoria Park Station the platelayers were at work, and when I -inquired the cause, I was told that the Queen’s carriages were to pass -over the line to Loughton at eleven o’clock “to try the metals,” and to -see that the platform was back enough to allow sufficient space for the -footboards of the royal carriages. In some cases there was not -sufficient space, and the line had to be swung a little to enable the -carriages to pass. - -At Stratford I had a few minutes to wait, and a little conversation with -the stationmaster soon satisfied me that he was an observing and -common-sense Christian, with a kind heart and good wishes for the poor -gipsy children. - -I arrived at Loughton in time to join in the morning service conducted by -the Wesleyans in a neat iron chapel. The service was good, plain, and -homely, and as such I enjoyed it. Of course, being a stranger in “these -parts,” I was eyed o’er with “wondering curiosity.” In the chapel there -was a tall old man who sat and stood pensively, with his head bending -low, during the services, and whom, without much hesitation, I set down -as a gipsy. He did not seem to enjoy the service. On inquiry -afterwards, I found that my surmise was correct, and that the tall man -was a gipsy Smith, of some seventy winters, who was born under a tent -upon Epping Forest, amongst the brambles, furze, and heather, with the -clouds for a shelter from the sun’s fierce rays in summer, and the -slender tent covering, with the dying embers of a stick fire, to keep -body and soul together in the midst of the wintry blasts, drifting hail, -snow, and sleet, and keen biting frosts to “nip the toes.” - -After climbing the steep and rugged hill, I made my way to find out a -cocoa-nut gambler, who once gave me an invitation to call upon him when I -happened to pass that way. With much ado and many inquiries I found the -man and his wife just preparing to go with a donkey and a heavy load of -nuts to some secluded spot a few miles away, to “pick up a little money” -for their “wittles.” My visit having ended in moonshine, I now began in -earnest to hunt up the gipsies. A few minutes’ wandering among the -bushes and by-lanes brought me upon a group of half-starved, dirty, -half-naked, lost little gipsy children, who were carrying sticks to their -wretched dwellings, which were nothing better than horribly stinking, -sickening, muddy wigwams. - -On making my way through mud and sink-gutter filth, almost over -“boot-tops,” I came upon a _duelling_ which, were I to live to the age of -Methuselah, I could never forget. - -Sitting upon an old three-legged chair, and with a bottom composed of old -rags, cord, and broken rushes, was a bulky, dirty, greasy, idle-looking -fellow, who might never have been washed in his life. I put a few -questions to him about the weather and other trifling matters; but the -answers I got from him were such that I could not understand. To “roker” -Romany was a thing he could not do. Mumble and grumble were his -scholastic attainments. - -At the door stood a poor, old, worn-out pony, which they said was as -“dodgy and crafty as any human being. It was a capital animal in a cart, -but would not run at fairs with children on its back. Immediately you -put a child upon its back it stood like a rock, and the devil could not -move it.” - -In the room were five children as ragged as wild goats, as filthy as -pigs, and quite as ignorant. On an old “squab bed”—the only bed in the -room—sat a big, fat, aged gipsy woman, on a par with the man and -children. A young gipsy of about eighteen years stood at the bottom of -the squab bed enjoying his Sunday dinner. In one hand he held the dirty -plate, and the other had to do duty in place of a knife and fork. Of -what the dinner was composed I could not imagine. It seemed to be a kind -of mixture between meat, soup, fish, broth, roast and fry, thickened with -bones and flavoured with snails and bread. Upon a very rickety stool sat -a girl with a dirty bare bosom suckling a poor emaciated baby, whose -father nobody seemed to know—and, if report be true, the less that is -said about paternity the better. In this one little hole, with a boarded -floor, covered with dirt and mud at least half an inch thick, one bed -teeming with vermin, which I saw with my own eyes, and walls covered with -greasy grime, there were a man, woman, girl, young man, and five -children, huddling together on a Christian Sabbath, in Christian England, -within a stone’s throw of a Christian Church and the Church of England -day and Sunday school. None of them had ever been in a day or Sunday -school or place of worship in their lives. They were as truly heathens -as the most heathenish in the world, and as black as the blackest beings -I have ever seen. The only godly ray manifest in this dark abode was -that of gratitude and thankfulness. A pleasing trait is this. It was a -vein embedded in their nature that only required the touch of sympathy, -brotherhood, and kindness to light up the lives of these poor lost -creatures living in darkness. Natural beauty I saw none inside; but the -marks of sin were everywhere manifest. Just outside this miserable hive, -notwithstanding the stench, the bees were buzzing about seeking in vain -for honey, the butterflies were winging fruitlessly about trying to find -flowers to settle upon; and across the beautiful forest valley the cuckoo -was among the trees piping forth its ever beautiful, lovely, enchanting, -and never-tiring “cuck-coo,” “cuck-coo,” “cuck-coo;” throstles, linnets, -blackbirds, and woodpeckers were hopping about from tree to tree within a -stone’s throw, sending forth heavenly strains, echoing and re-echoing in -the distance among the wood foliage on this bright spring Sunday -afternoon. I could almost hear with Dr. James Hamilton, in his “Pearl of -Parables” (_Sunday at Home_, 1878), a poor gipsy girl singing with tears -in her eyes— - - “Some angel in the land of love - For love should pity me, - And draw me in like Noah’s dove - From wastes of misery.” - -The lark echoes in the air— - - “But I would seek on earth below - A space for heaven to win, - To cheer one heart bowed down by woe, - To save one soul from sin.” - -I left this hut, after taking a breath of fresh air, for another gipsy -_dwelling_ round the corner, picking my way among the masses of filth as -well as I could. Here another sight, not quite so sickening, but equally -heartrending, presented itself. A gipsy woman was squatting upon the -filthy boards, the father was sitting upon a rickety old chair without -any bottom in it; _i.e._, there were a few cords tied across which served -to hold up one or two dirty rags, and these were sunk so low that any one -sitting upon the chair could feel nothing but the rims, which were not at -all comfortable. Round the man and woman were six children of all ages -and sizes, partially dressed in filthy rags and old shoes, which seemed -to have been picked out of the ashes upon Hackney Marshes, all of which -were much too large for their little feet, and were stuffed with rags. -One little girl had a pair of cast-off woman’s shoes, possessing little -sole and almost less “uppers.” - -The gipsy father was partially blind through having been in so many gipsy -combats. A kick over the eyes had not only nearly blinded him, but as B. -said, “I feel at times as if my senses were nearly gone. Thank the Lord, -I can see best when the sun shines clear.” On my approaching nearer to -where they were sitting the man got up and kindly offered me his _chair_, -which I accepted, notwithstanding the disagreeable surroundings. On the -walls of their _dwelling_ pieces of pictures and old newspapers were -pasted. There were parts of _The British Workman_, _Band of Hope -Review_, _Old Jonathan_, _The Cottager and Artizan_, _Churchman’s -Almanack_; in fact, they seemed to have upon the greasy walls a scrap of -some of the pictorial publications published by the Wesleyans, Baptists, -Church of England, the Unitarians, Congregationalists, the Religious -Tract Society, Cassell, Sunday School Union, Haughton and Co., Partridge -and Co., Dr. Barnardo, and others. I said to the poor man, “This is a -very tumbledown old place.” “Yes,” he said, “people say that it has been -built nine hundred years; and I believe it has, for the man who owns it -now says he cannot remember it being built.” I said, “How old do you -think the man is who owns it?” He answered, “Well, I should think that -he is fifty, for he has great grand-children.” Their only table -consisted of an old box, upon which, in a wicker basket, there were a -young jay and a blackbird which the gipsy woman was trying to rear. As -the young birds opened their beaks, almost wide enough to swallow each -other, the woman kept thrusting into their mouths large pieces of -stinking meat of some kind, about which I did not ask any particulars. -These little gipsy attractions and observations being over, I began to -inquire about things concerning their present and eternal welfare. I -found on inquiry that the only food this family had had to live upon -during the last two days had been a threepenny loaf and half an ounce of -tea. When I asked them what they did for a living they could scarcely -tell me. The man said, “I go out sometimes with a basket and a few -oranges in it, and I picks up a bit of a living in this way. Some of the -people are pretty good to me. As a rule we begs our clothes. -Occasionally I catches a rabbit or picks up a hedgehog. If I can scrape -together a shilling to buy oranges I generally manages pretty well for -that day. Our firing does not cost us anything, and in summer-time the -young uns picks up a lot of birds’ eggs out of the forest, which are very -nice for them if they are not too far hatched.” Just at this juncture a -practical demonstration took place as to how they dealt with the birds’ -eggs. One of the boys, I should think of about seven years, came with a -nest of blackbirds’ eggs—poor little fellow he was no doubt hungry, for -he had had no Sunday dinner—which he placed into his mother’s hands. The -mother was not long before she began to crack them, and into the -children’s mouths they went, half hatched as they were, just as she fed -the young jay. I really thought that one of the youngsters would have -been choked by one of the half-hatched young blackbirds. With a little -crushing, cramming, and tapping on the back the poor Sunday dinnerless -gipsy child escaped the sad consequences I at one time feared would be -the result. To see a woman forcing food of this description down a -child’s throat is a sight I never want to see again. Hunger opens a -mouth that turns sickening food into dainty morsels. None of these poor -gipsy children had ever lisped a godly prayer or read a word in their -lives. The father said he would be glad to send the children to school -if they would be received there and they could go free. The whole of -these children were born in a tent upon a bit of straw among the low -bushes of Epping Forest. Some in the depth of severe winter, others in -the midst of drenching rains, and even when the larks were singing -overhead, with “roughish nurses and midwives” as attendants. - - [Picture: Inside a house-dwelling gipsy’s wigwam, Pump Hill, Epping - Forest] - -I found that this “gipsy-man” had been a Sunday-school scholar, but -somehow or other—he did not seem desirous of saying how—he got among a -gang of gipsies in early life. He left his praying mother for the life -of a vagabond among tramps, with a relish for hedgehogs, snails, and -diseased pork. He said he liked hedgehog-pie better than any other food -in the world. “Two hedgehogs will make a good pie,” he said. He also -said that he was once with a tribe of gipsy tramps, and he laid a wager -that he “could make them all sick of hedgehogs.” They told him he could -not. The result was he set off to a place he well knew in the -neighbourhood and caught twenty-one hedgehogs. These were all cooked, -some in clay and others turned into soup, and all the gipsies who ate -them “were made sick, excepting an old woman of the name of Smith.” - -He next told me how to cook snails, which he liked very much, and wished -he had a dish before him then. The snails, he said, “were boiled, and -then put in salt and water, after which they were boiled again, and then -were ready for eating.” Feeling desirous of changing the subject, I -reverted to his Sunday-school experience, and asked if he could remember -anything he once read (he could not now read a sentence) or sung. All he -could remember, he said, was “In my father’s house are many mansions,” -and a bit of a song— - - “Here we suffer grief and pain, - Here we meet to part again; - In heaven we part no more. - Oh! that will be joyful.” - -My heart bled, and I felt that I could have wept tears of sorrow as I sat -in the midst of this family of our present-day gipsies. In these two -tumble-down wooden dwellings there were two men and three women and -twelve children growing up in the densest ignorance, barbarism, and sin. - -I gave the mother and children some money wherewith to buy some food, and -I left them with gratitude beaming out of their dirty faces. In going -down the hill, a couple of hundred yards from this hotbed of sin, -iniquity, and wretchedness, I came upon a party of about one hundred and -fifty beautifully dressed and happy Sunday-school children tripping along -joyfully with their teachers by their side to an afternoon service in the -church close by. I could almost imagine them to be singing as I looked -into their cheery faces, and nothing would have given me greater pleasure -than to have sung out with them lustily— - - “Merrily, merrily, onward we go.” - -The five minutes’ trotting down the hill with this youthful encouraging -band brought my forty years’ joyous and soul-saving episodes of -Sunday-school life vividly before me, which had the soothing effect of -temporarily shaking off my late hour’s experiences with the gipsies, and -causing my heart to dance for joy. - -A little later on I took the main road to High Beach and the “Robin -Hood.” I had not got far upon the way before I was accosted by three -semi-drunken, “respectable”-looking roughs, asking all sorts of insulting -questions; and because I could not point them to a “California,” but -rather to a “Bedlam,” I really thought that I should have to “lookout for -squalls.” They began in earnest to close round me. By a little -manœuvring, and the fortunate appearance of two or three gentlemen, I -eluded their clutches. - -The road up the hill to the “Robin Hood” was literally crowded with -travellers, foolish and gay; cabs and carriages teemed with passengers of -the gentle and simple sort, roughs and riffraff, went puffing and panting -along. There were the thick and thin, tall and short, weak and strong, -all jostling together as on Bank Holidays. I could hardly realize the -fact that it was an English Sunday. In one trap, drawn by a poor bony -animal scarcely able to crawl, there were fifteen men, women, and -children, shouting and screaming as if it were a fair day—wild, mad, and -frantic with swill to their heart’s core. The gipsies were in full -swing. There were no less than fifty horses and donkeys running, -galloping, trotting, and walking, with men, women, and children upon -their backs. Half-tipsy girls seemed to have lost all sense of modesty -and shame. The long sticks of the gipsies laid heavily upon the bones of -the poor animals set the women and girls “a-screeching” and shouting, -sounds which did not rise very high before they were turned into God’s -curses. - -I knew many of the gipsies, and, contrary to what I had expected, I did -not receive one cross look. The eldest son of a gipsy, named Pether, to -whom I shall refer later on, took me into his tea, gingerbeer, and pop -tent; and nothing would satisfy him but that I must have some gingerbeer -and cake, and while I was eating he handed me his fat baby to look at. -It certainly bade fair to become a bigger man than General Tom Thumb. I -touched the baby’s cheek and put a small coin in its tiny hand. I also -spoke a word of genuine praise to the young gipsy mother on account of -the good start she was making, and afterwards I shook hands with the -gipsy pair and bade them good-bye. To Pether’s credit be it said that, -although he owns horses, swings, cocoa-nuts, &c., he never employs them -on Sundays. His gipsy father had told him more than once that “there is -no good got by it. I have noticed it more than once, what’s got by -cocoa-nuts, swings, and horses on Sunday, the devil fetches before dinner -on Monday.” - -Upon the forest, on God’s day of rest, there were no fewer than from five -hundred to one thousand gipsy children, not a dozen of whom could read -and write a sentence, or had ever been in a place of worship. - -In going to my friend’s, the house-dwelling gipsy, for tea, in response -to his kind invitation, that we might have a chat together, I called to -see a gipsy woman of the name of B— whom I knew, as I also did her -parents, who had recently come to live in the place. When I arrived at -the wretched, miserable, dirty abode, I found that her gipsy husband had -been sent for, and was now “doing fourteen years”—for what offence I did -not attempt to find out—and that his place had been filled by another -idle scamp; and, if reports be true, he has also been sent for “to do -double duty,” and whose place also has been filled up in the social -circle with another gipsy. This gipsy woman has entered into a fourth -alliance, and, as one of the gipsies recently said, she has really been -“churched” this time. I saw much, smelt a deal, but said little; and, -after giving the poor child of six a trifle, I made haste to join my -friends the gipsies at tea. - -When I was invited, my friend Pether said: “You could not mistake the -house. Over the door it reads, ‘J. Pether, the Ratcatcher and Butcher.’ -If you ask any one in Loughton for ‘Scarecrow,’ ‘_Poshcard_,’ -‘Shovecard,’ or ‘Jack Scare,’ they will direct you to my house. I am -known for miles round.” Of course I had no difficulty in finding my -friend, with so many names and titles. On arriving at the door my big -friend came hobbling along to open it. If my little hand had been a -rough, big, cocoa-nut that he had been going to “shie” with vengeance at -somebody’s head, he could not have given it a firmer grip. Fortunately -he did not break any bones in it. I had not been long seated upon the -bench before his “poorly” wife came downstairs. The best cups and -saucers were set on a coverless table, and the cake, which was a little -too rich, was placed thereon. By the side of the fireplace upon the -floor was their poor crippled son of about sixteen years, who had lost -the use of his arms and legs, but had retained his senses. Tea was -handed out to us, and I did fairly well. I enjoyed the tea, although I -felt pained and sorrowful to see a sharp youth confined at home under -such sad circumstances. They did their best to make me happy and -comfortable. At our table sat one of Mr. Pether’s sons, who was in the -militia. He had a kindly word for almost everybody in the regiment to -which he belonged, especially for the Duke of Connaught, who had a kindly -word for him. The Duke asked him one day if he would like to join the -Line, to which young Pether said “No.” “The Duke is a gentleman, and -pleases everybody,” said Pether, the young militiaman. “Verily, this is -a truth spoken by a gipsy soldier,” I said to Pether senior. “Yes, -governor,” said Mr. Pether; “and the Queen is a good woman, too.” To -which I replied, “There could not be a better; she is the best Queen that -England ever saw.” This brought a smile upon their faces over our hot -gipsy tea. - -Tea was now over, and our chat began. The first thing I said to Mr. -Pether was, “How is it that you have become a gipsy with so many names?” -This question called forth a laugh and a groan. A laugh, because it -brought to his mind so many reminiscences of bygone days; and a groan, -because his gouty leg had an extra twinge from some cause or other, which -caused him to pull a wry face for a minute. I could not help smiling, -when with one breath he laughed out, “Ah, ah, ah, ah!” and in the next he -cried out, “Oh, oh! it almost makes me sweat.” “Well, to begin at the -beginning, sir, my father was a butcher and farmer, and he sent me early -to London—I think before I was nine years old—to be with an uncle, who -was a butcher. I was with him for a few years, but he was not very kind. -He used to put me to the worst and coldest kind of work, winter or -summer; and I was often put upon by his man and a young chap he had. The -chap used to plague me terribly, and call me all sorts of names; and I -was a lad that was tempery and peppery, and would not be put on by -anybody. One day the chap begun to leather me with a cow’s tongue, which -cuts like a knife, upon the bare skin. He leathered me so much that -blood ran down my arms and face. This got my blood up, and while he was -bending to pick up something I seized the poleaxe that stood close by and -struck him when no one was near with the sharp edge of it upon his head, -the same as I would a bullock, and felled him to the ground like an ox. -As soon as I saw blood flowing I made sure that I had killed him, and, -without waiting to pick up my clothes, I ran off as fast as my legs would -carry me, without stopping till I got to Harrow-on-the-Hill. I dirted my -clothes and coat and mangled them so that nobody could tell me, and I -changed my name to ‘Poshcard’ for a time. I then began to wander about -the lanes, and to beg, and to sleep in the barns and under stacks on the -roadside. Sometimes I could pick up a job at butchers’, doing what they -call ‘running guts’ for sausages and black pudding. My clothes at times -were all alive. When anybody gave me an old coat or shirt, socks or -boots, I never took them off till they dropped off. I have slept under -ricks in the winter till the straw has been frozen to my feet. Hundreds -of times I have slept between the cows for warmth, while they have lain -down in the sheds and cow-houses. I used to creep in between them softly -and snoozle the night away. The warmth of the cows has kept me alive -hundreds of times. I have at times almost lived on carrots. When -blackberries were ripe I used to eat many of them; in fact, I used to -steal peas and beans, or any mortal thing that I came near. Sometimes I -fell in with drovers. I have got in the winter-time under a hedge and -nibbled a turnip for my Sunday dinner. I was for some time with a -farmer, and used to mind his cattle, and he got to like me so much that -he used to place confidence in me. He would trust me with anything. One -time he sent me to sell a calf for him, but instead of returning with the -money I ran away and bought a suit of clothes with it. I durst not face -him again after that. For fourteen years I was wandering up and down -England in this way, daily expecting to be taken up for murder. - -“I then joined a gang of gipsies of the name of Lee, and with them I have -lied, lived, stole, and slept, more like a dog than a human being. I -used to run donkeys all day, and when the old woman came home from -fortune-telling she would give me two pieces of bread and butter from -somebody’s table for my dinner and tea which some of the servant girls -had given to her. Among the gipsies I used to be reckoned the very -devil. I have fought hundreds of times, and was never beaten in my life. -The time when I was more nearly beaten than any other was with my -brother-in-law, a gipsy. We fought hard and fast, up and down, for -nearly an hour, and then we gave it up as both of us being as good as -each other. I have had both my arms broken, legs broken, shoulder-blades -broken, and kicked over my head till I have been senseless, in gipsy -rows. Oh! sir, I could tell you a lot more, and I will do so sometime.” - -This terrible recital of facts—of the cruelty, hardships, wrong-doing of -present-day gipsy life—almost caused my hair to stand on an end whilst he -related the horrors of backwood and daylight gipsyism in our midst. - -I asked Mr. Pether if the gipsies were on the increase in the country so -far as he knew. He answered— - -“I should think they are very much. Gipsies seem to be in the lanes -everywhere. I have seen as many as five hundred tents and vans in the -forest before now at one time. There are not so many now, as you know; -but they have spread all over the country, because the rangers would not -allow the gipsies to stay upon the forest all night. Some of the gipsies -have made heaps of money by fortune-telling. Lord bless you! I knew the -family of gipsy Smiths, they seemed to have so much money that they did -not know what to do with it. They seemed to have gold and diamond rings -upon all their fingers. They took their money to America, and I have not -heard what has become of them since. Some of the family are left about -the forest now as poor as rats. The gipsies are a rum lot, I can assure -you. I do not know a dozen gipsies to-day who can read and write, and -none of them ever go, or think of going, to church or chapel.” “Have you -ever been in a place of worship since you ran away from home?” “No,” -said “Scare,” “except when I went with my old woman to be wed; and thank -God I can show the ‘marriage lines.’ Not many of the gipsies can show -their ‘marriage lines,’ I can assure you. I have not been in either -church or chapel, except then, for nearly fifty years.” I said, “Did you -ever pray?” “No,” said “Scare,” “but I swears thousands of times. -Mother prays for me and that has to do. She’s a good old creature.” - -I said, “Now Mr. Pether, from what cause did you receive the name of -‘Scare’?” “Well, to tell you the truth,” said Mr. “Scare,” “at the edge -of the forest there was a little low public-house, kept by a man and his -wife, which we gipsies used to visit. In course of time the man died, -and the old woman used to always be crying her eyes up about the loss of -her poor ‘Bill;’ at least, she seemed to be always crying about him, -which I knew was not real—she did not care a rap about the old man—so I -thought I would have a lark with the old girl. In the yard there were a -lot of fowls, and just before the old girl went to bed—and I knew which -bed she slept in—I put up the window and turned one of the fowls into the -room and then pulled it gently down again, and I then stood back in the -yard. Presently the old girl, I could see by the light, was making for -her bedroom, which was on the ground floor. No sooner had the old girl -opened the door than the fowl began ‘scare!’ ‘scare!’ ‘scare!’ ‘scare!’ -and ‘flusker’ and ‘flapper’ about the room. The old lady was so -frightened that she dropped the candle upon the floor and ran out in the -yard calling out ‘Murder!’ ‘murder!’ ‘murder!’ Of course I dared not be -seen and sneaked away. Early next morning I went to the house and called -for some beer. No sooner had I entered than the old girl told me that -she had seen her husband’s ghost on the bed, and it had almost frightened -her wild. It had made every hair upon her head stand upright. It was -her husband’s ghost, she was sure it was, she said; and nobody could make -her believe it was not; and from that night the old woman would not sleep -in the room again. She very soon left the public-house, and one of my -friends took it. From this circumstance I have gone in the name of ‘Jack -Scare.’” “Well, what have you to say about the name ‘Scarecrow,’ by -which you are known?” “Scarecrow,” said Mr. Pether, “was given to me -after I had fetched, in the dead of the night, a bough of the tree upon -which a man had hung himself a few days before. It arose in this way. A -man hung himself in a wood through some girl, and after he was cut down -and buried a gipsy I knew begged or bought his clothes for a little—I -could not say what the amount was, I think five shillings—and wore them. -Chaff, jokes, and sneers with that gipsy for wearing the dead man’s -clothes resulted in a bet being made for five shillings as to whether I -dare, or dare not, visit the spot where the man was hung at midnight -hour, and bring some token or proof from the place as having been there. -I went and fetched a bough of the very same tree, and from that -circumstance I have been called ‘scarecrow’ or ‘dare-devil.’ -‘_Poshcard_’ or ‘_Shovecard_’ was given to me because I was always a good -hand at cheating with cards.” _Posh_ among the gipsies and in Romany -means “half,” and I suppose they really looked upon Pether as having half -gipsy blood in his veins. - -“Well, how are you getting on now?” “Well, I am getting on pretty well, -thank God. I never work my horse on Sundays, and I do not cheat the same -as I used to do. Some days I earn £6 or £7, and then again I shall be -for days and days and not earn sixpence. I also go a rat-catching and -butchering for people, and they pays me pretty well; and sometimes I -fetches a hare or two. I am not particular if partridges or pheasants -come in my way. If you will let me know the next time you are this way I -will have a first-rate hare for you.” Of course I thanked him, but told -my friend that I was not partial to hares. - -“Well now, Mr. Pether, let us come back again to the time when you ran -away, after felling the chap with the poleaxe. Did you kill the man?” -“No,” said Pether, “I have found out since that I did not kill him, but I -gave him a terrible scalp. He is dead now, poor chap. I have wished -many thousands of times since that I had not struck him, though he did -wrong in leathering me with a cow’s tongue.” - -“How did your friends find you out at last?” “Well,” said Pether, “after -I ran away from home my mother advertised for me all over the country, -spending scores of pounds to no purpose. On account of my changing my -clothes and name, and travelling with gipsies and tramps, and becoming as -one of them, they could never find me out, till I had been away nearly -eighteen years. How I was found out arose as follows. One day I was -sitting in a beershop with some gipsies, when a man came in who knew me, -and he seemed to look, and look and eye me over, head and foot, from top -to bottom, as he never had done before. While he was looking at me, it -seemed to strike me at once that I was at last found out for the murder I -had always thought that I had committed. He went away for a little time -out of the public-house, and as it has been told me since, he went to the -telegraph office to send a telegram to my brother-in-law, who was in -London, not many miles away, to come down by the next train, for they had -found out who they thought to be their ‘Jack.’ He was not away very -long, and I was in twenty minds to have run out of the house; but as he -did not come back in a few minutes, I thought I was wrong in judging that -I had been found out. Lord bless you, sir, did not I open my eyes when -he came in again and brought one or two men with him, and sat down and -called for some beer. My legs and knees began to knock together; I was -all of a tremble, and I got up to go out of the house, but they called -for some beer and would not let me leave the place. For the life of me I -could not make it all out. Sometimes I imagined the new-comers were -detectives in disguise. They joked and chaffed and seemed quite merry. -I can assure you, sir, that I was not merry. I got up several times to -try to get out of the house, and to sneak away. He ordered some dinner, -and would have no ‘nay,’ but that I must join them. I tried to eat with -them, but I can assure you, sir, it was not much that I could either eat -or drink. Presently, after dinner, another man came into the room and -sat down and called for some beer. I did not know the man. It has -turned out since that the last comer was no other than my brother-in-law. -It flashed across me that I was at last found out, and no mistake. I was -a doomed man; and this surmise seemed to be doubly true when he took out -of his pocket a newspaper and began to read an advertisement giving the -description of me at the time I ran away. They now called me by my own -name, and asked the landlord to allow me to have a wash, which he readily -granted. When this was over and I was ready, they said, ‘Now, Jack, we -shall want you to go with us.’ Of course there was nothing for it but to -go. The worst was come, and I thought I must screw up courage and face -it out as well as I could. On our way we called at the telegraph office, -where one of the men sent something by telegraph. I did not know what. -I have since heard that it was a telegram to my mother, stating that they -had found her son ‘Jack,’ and they were on the way to her house with him. -On the way through London to go, as I thought, to the police-station, we -turned off the main street to go up a by-street. For the life of me I -could not tell where this was, except that they were going to change my -clothes, or put ‘steel buckles’ upon my wrists. We went into a tidy sort -of a little house, which I thought was the home of one of the detectives -who was with us. I was asked to sit upon the old sofa, and the men sat -round the fire. For a little while all was as still as death. Presently -I heard someone coming downstairs. The footstep did not sound like that -of a man. In a minute there stood before me a woman between fifty and -sixty years old. I thought I had seen the face somewhere, but could not -tell where. The voice seemed to be a voice that I had heard somewhere, -times back. - -“The mystery was soon solved, the secret was soon out. As she looked -into my face, she cried out, ‘Art thou my son John, who ran away from his -place nearly twenty years ago, and for whom I have prayed every day since -that the Lord would bring you back to me before I died?’ And then she -came a little nearer, and looked into my face a little closer, and cried -out, ‘Thou art my son, John; bless the dear good Lord for preserving thee -all these years.’ I said, ‘Are you my mother?’ tremblingly. And she -took hold of me and put her arms round me, and clasped me closely to her, -and she cried and sobbed out for a minute or two, and then, with tears -streaming down her face upon my shoulder, said, while trembling and -almost fainting, ‘I am thy mother, my son John; let me kiss thee.’ And -she kissed me, and I kissed her. I cried, and she cried; I thought we -were not going to be parted again. We were in each other’s arms for a -few moments, and the man who brought the newspaper to the public-house to -recognize me, made himself known to me as my brother-in-law. Some of my -brothers came in the evening—and an evening it was. I shall never forget -our meeting while I live.” “And you could have sung from your heart, -Pether, ‘Come let us be merry, for this my son was dead and is alive -again, was lost and is found.’” “Yes I could. I always felt, and do so -still feel, that when I am gipsying, as you sometimes see me at ‘Robin -Hood,’ my mother’s prayers are heard by God. She is a good creature, and -is alive and lives with my sister at Battersea. I often go to see her. -She is a good creature.” Mr. Pether, while narrating his troubles, -difficulties, hairbreadth escapes, broke out frequently into sobs and -cries almost like a child. - -I bade my friends the gipsies good-bye and, after giving the poor -crippled boy something to please him, I started to go to the station, but -found out that I should have an hour to wait. I therefore turned into a -Wesleyan Chapel to enjoy a partial service, at the close of which the -choir and the congregation, including a gipsy Smith and his wife, sung -with tear-fetching expression and feeling— - - “Jerusalem my happy home, - Name ever dear to me; - When shall my labours have an end, - In joy and peace with thee?” - -After this impressive service time, steam and “shanks’s pony” carried and -wafted me back to my friends in Victoria Park, none the worse for my -Sunday ramble among the gipsies. - - - - -Rambles among the Gipsies in Epping Forest. - - -AFTER being kept in bed at a friend’s house by pain and prostration for -forty hours, it was pleasant to tramp upon the green, mossy sward of -Nature in Victoria Park on a bright Easter Monday morning, with the sun -winking and blinking in my face through the trees on my way to the -station in the midst of a throng of busy holiday-seekers, dressed in -their best clothes, with all the variety of colour and fashion that can -only be seen on a bank-holiday. The fashions worn by the ladies ranged -from the reign of Queen Anne to that of the latest fantasy under our good -Queen Victoria, with plenty of room for digression and varieties -according to the individual taste and vagary. Some of the ladies’ pretty -faces were not without colour which makes “beautiful for ever.” There -were others who might almost claim relationship to Shetland ponies, for -their hair hung over their foreheads, covering their “witching eyes,” -making them like two-year old colts, and as if they were ashamed to show -the noble foreheads God had given them. Others were walking on stilts, -evidently with much discomfort, and with both eyes shut to the injury -they were inflicting upon their delicate frames and constitutions. This -class of young ladies evidently thought that high heels, pretty ankles, -and small feet, with plenty of giggle and bosh, were the things to “trap -’em and catch ’em.” Poor things! they are terribly mistaken on this -point. The things to “trap ’em and catch ’em” are graceful action, -modest reserve, soft looks, a heart full of sympathy, tenderness, -goodness, and kindness. Few young men can withstand these “fireworks.” -These are the things which make “beautiful for ever.” - -The fashions adopted by the gentlemen were all “cuts” and “shapes.” -Naughty children vulgarly call them “young dandies”—“flashy fops” whose -brains and money—if they ever had any—vanish into smoke or the fumes of a -beer barrel. Their garments were covered with creases, caused by the -ironing process at their “uncle’s,” which certainly did not add to their -appearance, or the elegance of their figures. As they yawned, laughed, -shouted, and giggled upon the platform, with their mouths open—not quite -as wide as Jumbo’s when apples are thrown at him—it was not surprising -that flies fast disappeared. - -There were others whose head and face had the appearance of having been -in many a storm of the “bull and pup” fashion. They wore pantaloons -tight round the knees and wide about the ankles, and coats made of a -small Scotch plaid, blue and black cloth, with pockets inside and -outside, capable of holding a few rabbits, hares, and partridges without -any inconvenience to the wearer. At the heels of these gentry, who -loitered about with sticks in their hands, skulked lurcher dogs. - -Frequently I came alongside a young gentleman with an intelligent face, -marked by thought, care, and study, who evidently was taking an “outing” -for the good of his health. As he passed the vacant-minded part of the -throng and crush, he seemed to give a kind of side glance of pity and -contempt, and then passed along, keeping a sharp look-out after his -pockets. - -Among the crowd of pleasure-seekers there was a large sprinkling of men -with premature grey locks and snowy white hair, betoking a life of hurry -and worry, thought, care, and anxiety, with several children jumping and -frisking round them with glee, delight, joy, and smiles at the prospect -of spending a day with their fathers in the forest free from school and -city life. As the lovely children were bounding along, it only required -a very slight stretch of imagination to read the thoughts of the good -father, and to hear him saying to the children, “I wish I was young -again, I should like to have a romp with you to-day; my heart beats with -joy at seeing you dance about. God bless you, my dear children; God -bless you! I am so glad to see you so happy.” And then tears would -trickle down the face of the early careworn father, at the thought of a -coming parting, when he would have to bid them good-bye, and leave them -in the hands of God and an early widowed mother, to get along as well as -they could in the midst of the cold shoulders of the friends of the -bygone prosperous times, who have received many favours at the hands of -the early grey-bearded father, but shudder at the thought of being asked -by the poor widow for a favour. - -The children, with ringlets and flowing hair and bright eyes, now cling -to him and hold him by the tails of his coat and his hands, and begin to -sing as they speed towards the forest— - - “The Lion of Judah shall break every chain - And give us the victory again and again; - Be hushed, my sad spirit, the worst that can come - But shortens the journey and hastens me home.” - -And away they went out of sight among the tussocks of grass, little -hills, hedges, low bushes, and heather, to gather daisies and other wild -flowers, perhaps not to be seen again by me till we meet on the plains of -Paradise. - -Among the crowd there were a number of men, who could not be mistaken by -any one who knows anything of literary work and literary men, trying to -get a “breath of fresh air” and a few wrinkles off their face, and to -come in contact with some one who could touch the spring of -pleasure—which by this time had been nearly dried up, or frozen up by -studying and anxiety—and bring a smile to the face. - -I ran against one man who was evidently in deep trouble, and I began to -question him as to the cause of his sorrow, and he told me as follows: -“For many years I was a clerk in a solicitor’s office in the city, and on -my arrival home at night, I used to write stories and other things for -the papers, without pay, merely for pleasure. In course of time my -eyesight failed me, and I had to give up my situation. I thought I would -try to write a story for publication, so that I might maintain my family, -and keep them from the workhouse. I began the tale and finished it. I -made sure that I should have no difficulty in getting some publisher to -take it up and print it for me, and that I should make a fortune, and be -made a man; but to my surprise no one would look at it. I went from one -place to another, day after day, without any success, returning home -every night thoroughly broken down and dispirited, and to-day I have my -manuscript without any prospect of meeting with a customer, and am -strolling here to contemplate the next step.” I gave him a little -encouragement, and told him to cheer up— - - “Behind a frowning Providence He hides a smiling face.” - -We shook hands and parted. - -I had not gone far before I overtook a woman in deep mourning, with four -children walking slowly along. There was no friskiness, liveliness, and -sport about this family. The two least hung as it were upon the skirts -of the poor sorrowful mother’s garments. Despair seemed to be written -not only upon their faces, but upon their clothes and actions. The -fountain of tears had been dried up, but not by the kindness of friends, -but by poverty and starvation, with all their grim horrors staring them -in the face, and with the terrible workhouse as the lot in store for -them, till there was scarcely any vitality left in their system from -which tears could be extracted either by kindness or sorrow. They seemed -to be the embodiment of pallor, languidness, and lifelessness. This poor -woman had had a good education; in fact, her manner and conversation -seemed to be that of a lady who had moved in good society; but alas, -overwork, worry, and death had early robbed her of a good husband, when -he was on the threshold of a first-class position and a fortune, and all -was gone! gone! and now “blank,” “blank,” “blank” seemed to be written -everywhere. I tried to console her best as I could, and left her. - -I had now begun to mount the hills of Epping Forest with a different -phase of human life before and on either side of me. On the grass were -four gipsies and “Rodneys,” with dogs lying beside them. In all -appearance they had neither worked nor washed in their lives, and, as -they said, they were “too old to learn how now.” I had not got much -further before I was accosted by a gipsy girl, apparently about fourteen, -with a baby nearly nude, and covered with dirt and filth, draining the -nourishment of life from its dirty mother, who exposed her breasts -without the least shame. She saw that I noticed her, and without a -moment’s hesitation asked me if I wanted my “fortune told.” She said -that she would tell it to me for a trifle. Her father—to all -appearance—and brothers stood by, and acting either upon her own -instincts or a wink from them, she said, “I see you know it better than I -can tell you;” and away she sidled off to attend to her cocoa-nuts, -saying, after a round of swearing at four gipsy children, “I hope you -will give my baby a penny; that’s a good gentleman, do, and God will -bless you for it.” - -I had not gone far up the hill before I found myself in company with a -forest ranger; and a rare good-looking fellow he was. He was a short -thickset man, and as round almost as a prize bullock. He said the -gipsies—so-called gipsies—were the plague of his life. They were -squatting about everywhere, breaking the fences and stealing everything -they could lay their hands upon. Before the last three years there were -hundreds of gipsies in the forest, living by plunder and fortune-telling, -and since they had driven them away, they had settled upon the outskirts -of the forest and pieces of waste land, some of which were rented by some -of the better class gipsies, and relet again to the other gipsies at a -small charge per week, who thus escaped the law. This good ranger said -there were no real gipsies at the present time in the country. They had -been mixed up with other vagabonds that scarcely a trace of the genuine -gipsy was left. - -Some old gipsies were complaining very much because the price of -cocoa-nuts had been raised. “Until now,” said this lot of vagabond -gipsies, “we could get cocoa-nuts at one pound per hundred; now we are, -to-day, giving thirty shillings per hundred; and it is no joke when you -get some of those old cricketers at work among them. They bowl them off -like one o’clock.” “How do you do in such a case?” I asked. “Well, -sometimes we let them go on till they get a belly-full, and sometimes we -cries quits, and will have no more on ’em, and tell them to go somewhere -else, we are quite satisfied. You know, sir, better than I can tell you -that it is no joke to have your nuts bowled off like that. I feel -sometimes,” said one gipsy, with clenched fist raised almost to my face -and closed teeth, “that I should like to bowl their yeds off, and no -mistake. I feel savage enough to punch their een out, and I could do it -in a jiffy.” He now left me and bawled out, “Now, gents, try your luck, -try your luck; all bad uns returned.” There was a brisk trade, and a lot -of shoeless, dirty little gipsy children were scrambling after the balls, -and throwing to the winners the nuts they had won; every now and then -there would be a terrible row over a nut—whether it was properly hit, or -who was the rightful owner. “Bang” went a ball from a big fellow against -a cocoa-nut, sending it and the juice inside flying in all directions, -and the youngsters scrambling after the pieces. And then there would be -another bawl out by a gipsy woman, “Bowl again, gentlemen; try your luck, -try your luck; all good uns and no bad uns; bad uns returned.” I left -this lot of gipsies to pursue my way to the “Robin Hood,” where there was -a pell-mell gathering of all sorts of human beings numbering thousands. -In elbowing my way through the crowd, a sharp, business-kind of a -gipsy-woman, well dressed and not bad looking, eyed me over, and, -thinking that I was “Johnny” from the country, said to a woman who was -near her, “You keep back, I mean to tell this gentleman his fortune.” -Three or four steps forward she took, and then stood full in front of me. -“A fine day, sir,” said the gipsy woman with a twinkle in her eye and a -side laugh, nudging to another gipsy woman at her elbow. “Yes, a very -fine day,” I said. She now drew a little nearer, and said in not very -loud tones, “Would you like to have your fortune told you, my good -gentleman? I could tell you something that would please you, I am sure. -There is good luck in your face. Now, my dear good gentleman, do let me -tell your fortune. You will become rich and have many friends, but will -have many false friends and enemies.” Just as she was beginning to spin -her yarn one of the B— gipsies came up. She was dressed in a glaring red -Scotch plaid dress, with red, blue, green, and yellow ribbons flying -about her head and shoulders; and in her arms was a baby which was -dressed in white linen and needlework. This gipsy woman was stout, dark, -and with round features, her black hair was waved like I have seen the -manes of horses, and her eye the opposite of heavenly. She now turned to -the gipsy woman who had accosted me and said, “Mrs. Smith, you need not -tell this gentleman his fortune, he knows more than we both can tell him. -This is Mr. Smith of Coalville, he had tea with us at K—.” “Oh,” said -the gipsy woman named Smith, “this is Mr. Smith of Coalville, is it? -I’ve heard a deal about him. I’ll go, or he’ll be putting me in a book. -Goodbye.” She put out her hands to shake mine, and then vanished out of -my sight, and I never saw her again in the forest during the day. I -suppose she fancied that I should be bringing her to book for -fortune-telling. I was now left with the gipsy B— and her baby. She -threw aside her shawl in order that I might look at the child, who was -apparently about four months old. Poor thing! it did not know that it -was the child of sin, for its parents were living in adultery, as nearly -all the gipsies do. This gipsy woman was earning money for herself, and -an idle man she was keeping, by exhibiting her illegitimate offspring and -telling silly girls their fortunes. Think about it lightly as we may, -fortune-telling is vastly on the increase all over the country, producing -most deadly and soul-crushing results. Just as I was touching the poor -baby’s face and putting sixpence in its hand, a gentleman connected with -the Ragged School Union came up with his two children. I found as we -travelled up the hill together that I was talking to Mr. Curtiss, the -organizing secretary of the Union, who was in the forest for an “outing,” -and could, no doubt, with Dr. Grosart say— - - “I wonder not, when ’mong the fresh, glad leaves, - I hear the early spring-birds sing; - I wonder not that ’neath the sunny eaves - The swallow flits with glancing wing.” - -When we reached the top of the hill, I took a sharp turn to the left, and -bid him and his two interesting sons goodbye. - -I had not wandered far before I came upon a group of gipsy children, -ragged, dirty, and filthy in the extreme. One of them ran after me for -some “coppers.” I took the opportunity of having a chat with the poor -child, whose clothes seemed to be literally alive with vermin. I asked -him what his name was, and his answer was, “I don’t know, I’ve got so -many names; sometimes they call me Smith, sometimes Brown, and lots of -other names.” “Have you ever been washed in your life?” “Not that I -know on, sir.” The feet of the poor lad seemed to have festering holes -in them, in which there were vermin getting fat out of the sores, and the -colour of his body was that of a tortoise, except patches of a little -lighter yellow were to be seen here and there. “Do you ever say your -prayers?” “Yes, sir, sometimes.” “What do you say when you say your -prayers? Who teaches you them?” “My sister,” said the boy. “Tell me -the first line and I will give you a penny.” “I cannot, I’ve forgotten -them; and so has my sister.” “Can you read?” “No.” “Were you ever in a -school?” “No.” “Did you ever hear of Jesus?” “I never heard of such a -man. He does not live upon this forest.” “Where does God live?” “I -don’t know; I never heard of him neither. There used to be a chap live -in the forest named like it, but he’s been gone away a long time. I -think he went a ‘hoppin’ in Kent two or three years ago.” At this -juncture a Sunday-school teacher connected with College Green Chapel, -Stepney, whom I knew, came up, and we entered into conversation together. -The poor lad said he had not had anything to eat “since Saturday.” My -young friend gave him some sandwiches, and I gave him some “coppers,” and -we separated. - -An old gipsy woman appeared upon the scene with two little ragged gipsy -children at her heels and a long stick in her hand, reminding me of the -“shepherd’s crook.” On her feet were two odd, old, and worn-out navvy’s -boots stuffed with rags, pieces of which were trailing after her heels. -Her dress—if it could be called dress—was short, and almost hung in -shreds; crooked and disgustingly filthy, she strutted about telling -fortunes. I said to the old hypocrite, “How old are you? you must be -getting a good round age.” With a quivering lip, trembling voice, and a -tottering limb and stick she replied, “If it please the Lord, I shall be -seventy-five soon.” “Which tribe of the gipsies do you belong to?” “I -belong to the Drapers.” She now altered the tone of her voice to that of -earnestness and said, “My good gentleman, I hope you have got a penny for -me; I’ve had nothing to eat to-day.” Her voice began to quaver again, -and, looking up towards the bright blue sky, “Now, my dear good -gentleman, please do give me a penny, and the Lord will bless you. I’ve -had a large family—nineteen children, and only three are dead.” I said, -“What will you charge me for telling me my fortune?” She seemed a -different woman in a minute, and replied in sharp tones, “You know it -better than I can tell you.” The old gipsy woman fancied that she “smelt -a rat,” and she turned away, with some hellish language to the little -gipsies, and was lost among the crowd of holiday-makers passing backwards -and forwards, drinking, swearing, gambling, fighting, racing, frolicsome, -funny, and thoughtful. The curtain was now drawn, and I left her to -pursue her satanic work among the simple, gay, and serious. - -For a few minutes I stood in meditation and wonder, while the crowds of -gipsies were pursuing their work in fortune-telling and at the swings, -cocoa-nuts, donkey-riding, steam horses, &c. One young fellow I saw -among the gipsies was not of gipsy birth or gipsy extraction. It was -quite evident from his manner and tattered, black cloth dress, that the -young man was nearly at the bottom of a slippery inclined plane. His -figure brought to me a familiar scene of some twenty-five years ago, and -with which I was well acquainted. The young man reminded me of the only -son of a Methodist local preacher who had had the sole management of -extensive earthenware works in the — for a long term of years, and was -highly respected in the district. The young man had been petted and -almost idolized. This only son was highly educated, and in every way was -being prepared to take his father’s place at the works some day. His -sisters worked carpet slippers for him, and his mother warmed them before -he went to bed; and “good-nights” were given in the midst of loving -embraces, prayers, and kisses. Oftentimes they were given and said while -tears of thankfulness to God for having given them, as they thought, a -son who was to give them comfort, solace, and pride as they toddled down -the hill together, while the shades of evening gathered round them. -Every one in this Christian household thought no labour in winter or -summer, night or day, too much to be bestowed upon their darling son. -Alas! alas! this idolized boy, for whom thousands of prayers had been -offered to Heaven on his behalf, in an evil hour ceased to pray for -himself, and took the wrong turning or “sharp round to the left,” and the -last I heard of him was that he had fallen in with a gang of gipsies, -ended his days as a vagabond in a union in Yorkshire, and had brought his -parents with their early grey hairs in sorrow to the grave. His loving -sisters to-day are scattered to the winds. These recollections brought -tears to my eyes and a deep, deep sigh from the bottom of my heart. - -I hung down my head, for I thought by the smarting of my eyes they would -tell a tale, and made my way on foot in the midst of clouds of dust to -Chingford, at the edge of the Forest, where Easter Monday was being held -in high glee. Among the people, gentle and simple, I met on my way was a -cartload of drunken lads and screaming wenches being drawn to the “Robin -Hood” and High Beech by a poor, bony, grey, old, worn-out pony, with -knees large enough for two horses, owing to its many falls upon the hard -stones without the option of choice. If it had not been that it had a -load of donkeys and little live beer barrels with their vent pegs drawn, -filling the air on this bright spring morning with - - “We won’t go home till morning, - We won’t go home till morning, - Till daylight doth appear,” - -it might have turned round and bawled out, “Am not I thine ass?” -Unfortunately for the poor dumb animal there was no one in its load that -had sense, except in response to a policeman’s cudgel, to understand the -meaning of “Am not I thine ass?” And away it hobbled and limped till it -was out of sight. By this time perhaps the poor thing has been made into -sausages, and sold to the “poor” as a rich treat for Sunday only. - -One of this load of young sinners stood up in their midst—or I should say -was propped up—and, with his hat slouching backward in his neck, shouted, -“Mates, let’s give three cheers for Epping Forest.” “All right,” they -cried out, “Hip, hip, hurrah! hip, hip, hurrah!” Another bawled out, -“Let’s give three cheers for Easter Monday.” “Bravo, Jack; that’s it!” -shouted a third, as he lay “all of a heap” at the bottom of the cart. -“Hip, hip, hurrah! hip, hip, hurrah! hip, hip, hip—” but they could not -in this trial of strength get any farther. The “hurrah” was left for -another Easter Monday. By this time, owing to the fumes of the beer -barrel and the jolting of the cart, they had become such a “set out as I -never did see.” Out of this pell-mell cartload of sin one of the crew, -who needed a “slobbing bib,” cried out, “I—I—I say, Bill, let’s give -three cheers for your old cat.” “You fool, we have no old cat,” said -Bill. “I didn’t say you had.” “You did.” “I didn’t.” “You did,” said -Bill. “If you say so again, I’ll punch you.” “Punch away,” said Bill. -“Stop till we get to the ‘Robin Hood,’ and then I’ll show you who’s -master.” “Sit down, you fool,” said Bill; “you have not the heart of a -chicken.” - -The Royal Road and Connaught Lake were beheld and passed over, and now, -after observing and star-gazing right and left, I was among the gipsies -to the left of the Forest Hotel. There was no mistaking them; for some -of the poor women with their babies in their arms showed the usual signs -of having been in the “wars,” by exhibiting here and there a “black eye;” -and without any signs of the maiden and virgin modesty, romantic, -backwood gipsy writers, who have never visited gipsy wigwams, say is one -of the peculiar traits of gipsy character. Here there were droves of -gipsies of all shades, caste, and colour, shouting, fighting, swearing, -lying, and thieving to their heart’s content, with hordes of children -exhibiting themselves in most disgusting positions in the midst of the -boisterous laughter of their beastly parents. - -At one of the cocoa-nut stalls stood a big, fat, coarse gipsy woman with -black hair, big mouth, and a bare bosom. Hanging at one of her breasts -was a poor baby, as thin as a herring, and with festering sores all over -its face and body. To me they seemed to be the outcome of starvation, -poverty, neglect, and dirt. The woman said that “teething” was the sole -cause of the sores. This poor child ought to have been nourished in bed -instead of being on its way to the grave, which may be at the back of -some bush in the Forest, as I am told has been the case with numbers of -gipsy children before. Hundreds, and I might say thousands, of them have -been born among the low bushes, furze, and heather on Epping Forest -without a tithe of the care which is bestowed upon cats and puppies. If -children have been and are still being ushered into the world in such an -unceremonious manner, it may be taken for granted that they have been and -still are ushered out of the world “when they are not wanted” in an -equally unceremonious manner. Queer things come to my ears sometimes. -Gipsy morality, cleanliness, faithfulness, honesty, and industry exist -only in moonshine—with some noble exceptions—and in the brain of some -backwood romantic gipsy novelists, who have more than once been bewitched -by the guile of gipsydom detrimental to their own interests and the -welfare of our country. A “witching eye” has blindfolded hundreds to the -putrifying mass of gipsyism; and a gipsy’s deceitful tongue has thrown -thousands of “simple-minded” off their guard, and left them to flounder, -struggle, and die in the mud of sin, with a future hope worse than that -of a dog. - -A tall fellow, almost like two six feet laths nailed together, now came -near, and began to abuse the poor woman in a most fearful manner for -having been away from the cocoa-nut stall attending to the needs of her -child. The swearing was most blood-curdling and horrifying. I left this -establishment to witness the cruel treatment the poor donkeys were -receiving at the hands of these vagabond gipsies, which is almost beyond -description. The thrashing, kicking, and striking with sharp pointed -sticks, to make the poor donkeys go faster with their loads of big and -little children on their backs, were enough to make one’s hair stand on -end. - - [Picture: An English gipsy countess on the “look-out”] - -I now turned from this scene of human depravity to the Forest Hotel to -recruit my inner man; this, after half an hour waiting, was accomplished -in a gipsy fashion, and with much scrambling. While entering a few notes -in my book, a gentleman, apparently of position and education, wheeled up -on his tricycle opposite to my window. He had not long dismounted, -lighted his pipe, and sauntered about for a rest, before a gipsy woman -wanted to make friends with him, I suppose to tell his fortune. -Fortunately he was proof against her “witching eyes,” forced smiles, and -“My dear good gentleman,” and turned away from her in disgust. She did -not understand rebuffs and scowling looks, and went away with her forced -smile of gipsydom hanging upon her lips and in her eyes among the crowd -to try her “practised” hand upon some one else not quite so wide-awake as -this gentleman upon the tricycle. - -A lively change was soon manifest. Dancing among a pother of dust was to -be seen in earnest opposite the hotel windows, by a most motley crowd. -Fat and thin, tall and lean, young and old, pretty and plain, lovely and -ugly, danced round and round till they presented themselves, through -sweat and dust, fit subjects for a Turkish bath. The old and fat panted, -the young laughed, the giddy screamed, and the thin jumped about as -nimble as kittens, and on they whirled towards eternity and the shades of -long night. - -I now retraced my steps along the Royal Road to the “Robin Hood,” and -while doing so I tried to gather, from various sources, the probable -number of gipsies, young and old, in Epping Forest on Easter Monday. -Sometimes I counted, at other times I asked the royal verderers, gipsies, -show people, and others; and, putting all things together, I may safely -say that there were thirty gipsy women who were telling fortunes, four -hundred gipsy children, and two hundred men and women, not half a dozen -of whom could tell A from B. Most of the children were begging, and some -few were at the “cocoa-nuts.” Some idea of the gipsy population in and -around London may be formed from this estimate, when it is taken into -account that holiday festivals were being held on the outskirts of London -at the same time, and in all directions. Upon Wanstead Flats, Cherry -Island, Barking Road, Canning Town, Hackney Flats, Hackney Marshes, -Battersea, Wandsworth, Chelsea, Wardley Street, Notting Hill, and many -other places, there must be fully 8000 gipsy children, nearly the whole -of whom are illegitimate, growing up as ignorant as heathens, without any -prospect of improvement or a lessening of numbers. - -I had now arrived again at the High Beech and the “Robin Hood,” and found -myself jostled, crushed, and crammed by a tremendous crowd of people. -Publicans, fops, sharps, and flats, mounted upon all manner of steeds, -varying in style and breed from “Bend Or” to the poor broken-kneed pony -owned by a gipsy, were coming cantering, galloping, and trotting to the -scene. “What is all this about?” I said to “Jack _Poshcard_,” my old -friend the gipsy, who stood at my elbow. “Don’t you know, governor?” -said he. “We are going to have a deer turned out directly, and these are -the huntsmen, and pretty huntsmen they are, for I could run faster -myself.” While the preparations were going on my friend Jack said to me, -“Governor, if you will come up again some Sunday I will see that you have -a fine hare to take back with you.” While we were talking a hare showed -its white tail among the bushes on the side of the hill, and I fancied I -heard Jack smacking his lips at this treat in store for him. - -There was a tremendous move forward taking place. The deer was turned -out, and these London _quasi_-huntsmen were after it as fast as their -steeds could carry them, dressed in fashions, colours, and shapes, -varying from that of a gipsy to a dandy cockney, holloaing and bellowing -like a lot of madcaps from Bedlam and Broadmoor, after a creature they -could neither catch, kill, cook, nor eat. - -While the din and hubbub were echoing away among the lovely hills and -valleys of the forest, I wended my way to the station and to Victoria -Park in company, part of the way, with some policemen jostling some -youths off to the police station for disgraceful assaults upon young -girls. - -I strolled in Victoria Park, in company with a friend, the Rev. R. -Spears, but no discord nor discordant noises were to be seen or heard. - -The Sunday-school children had been enjoying themselves to their heart’s -content. The grass, in many places, was literally covered with sandwich -papers; and here and there a group of Sunday-school teachers were resting -after their hard day’s work to please and amuse the “little folks” in -their friskings and gambols in the fresh air. All this brings to my mind -most vividly the long term of years when I had had the charge of such -interesting gatherings, with their enchanting singing, sweet voices, -pleasant faces, and delightful chatter as the little ones danced and -bounded to and fro around me with mesmeric influence too powerful to -withstand; and at times I have felt an irresistible impulse prompting me -to shout out, “God bless the children!” - -I had now arrived at the park-keeper’s gate on my way home. The fogs -were rising, the shades of evening were gathering around us, silence and -solitude were stealing over the scene, and behind me were four young men -singing, feelingly, as they followed me out of the park, in the old -evening song tune— - - “Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day, - Earth’s joys grow dim, its glories pass away; - Change and decay in all around I see, - O Thou who changest not, abide with me.” - -To which I said, Amen and Amen. “So mote it be.” - - - - -Rambles among the Gipsies upon Wanstead Flats. - - -EASTER Tuesday was cold, disagreeable, and damp. A London fog was -hanging overhead as I turned early out of my lodgings to visit Wanstead -Flats gipsy fair. Between the black fog and the rays of the sun a -struggle seemed to be taking place as to which influence should rule -London for the day, by imparting either darkness, gloom, and melancholy, -or light, brightness, and cheerfulness to the millions of dwellers and -toilers in London streets, shops, offices, garrets, cellars, mansions, -and palaces. The struggle did not continue long. Fog and mist had to -vanish into thin air at the bidding of the Spring sun’s rays, and black -particles of soot had to drop upon the pavement to be swept into the -London sewers by scavengers. For my own part I felt heavy all day -through fog and sunshine. - -I duly arrived at Forest Gate, and began to wander among the gipsies, -“taking stock,” and indulging in other preliminaries before making a -practical “survey” of the whole. - -During my peregrinations among the Wanstead Gonjos, Poshpeérdos, -Romani-chals, and Romany Ryes, I came upon a gentleman with whom I had a -long interesting conversation about the best means, plans, and modes of -dealing with our little street Arabs and other juveniles who have “gone -wrong,” or are found in paths leading to it. From my friend I gleaned -some interesting information relating to the early steps taken to bring -them back into paths of honesty, industry, and uprightness. Mary -Carpenter, of Bristol, worked hard, long, and successfully in this -direction. Although she has passed away, the fruits of her labour are -seen at Bristol and at other places in the country to-day, and will -continue green till the last trumpet shall sound, and we are called home -to live in an atmosphere where there is no sorrow, crying, wretchedness, -poverty, misery, or death, and where gipsy and canal children’s rags will -be transformed into angel robes, and their dirt and filth into angel -brightness and seraphic splendour. - -About a century ago, an institution was set on foot in the Borough of -Southwark called the Philanthropic Society, date 1780, which provided a -home for the children of prisoners, who would otherwise have been thrown -upon the world to beg or steal as best they could. For a period of more -than half a century, the benevolent character of the society secured for -it a fair share of voluntary support from the public. For many years it -gathered together and educated both boys and girls—some of whom were -gipsy children. The former were taught trades, such as tailoring, -shoe-making, and rope-making. The girls were taught laundry work and the -duties of domestic life. It was found, however, by much experience, -sometimes painful, that the presence of both sexes, although kept as -separate as possible, was not advantageous, and therefore, early in the -present century, boys only were received. These were non-criminals -themselves—only the offspring of that class, and destitute. - -When separate prisons were found necessary for the more successful -reclaiming, as it was hoped, of juvenile offenders, Parkhurst prison in -the Isle of Wight was used for that class. The experiment of keeping -young criminals together and away from older ones was considered so far -satisfactory that, in the year 1846, Sir George Grey, as Home Secretary, -resolved—no doubt at the instigation of Mary Carpenter, and as the result -of her agitation in this direction—on trying the experiment of relieving -the pressure arising from increased numbers by drafting those who had the -most reliable characters into an institution from which they might hope -to have more liberty, and ultimately, by continued good conduct, be -placed out in service, and so obtain their freedom. All the inmates of -Parkhurst prison were under sentence of seven or ten years’ -transportation. The Home Secretary had twenty-five of those young -persons selected, and a conditional pardon from the Queen was obtained -for each, that they might be placed in circumstances to work their way -speedily to freedom. The buildings of the Philanthropic Society in -Southwark were selected for the experiment, and those juvenile criminals -were introduced to their new liberty, and associated with the -non-criminal boys then in the Institution. By that action the society -changed its character, and henceforth it became a Reformatory School, -still retaining its original name. - -The experiment was both bold and wise; and to insure success an entire -change of management was required. Up to that time repression and terror -were too much exercised by the officials who had the care of the inmates. -A much more liberal and enlightened policy was resolved upon, and -education and home training were to be the substitutes. A large -schoolroom was erected on the premises, which were situated immediately -behind the Blind Asylum, and extended from the London Road on the east to -St. George’s Road on the west, all enclosed within high walls, having a -large chapel on the south-west corner, which served for both the inmates -of the institution and the general public. It was of the first -importance that in making this experiment properly qualified persons -should be placed in command. The Rev. Sydney Turner (the favourite son -of Sharon Turner, the historian) was the chaplain. The head master and -house superintendent was selected from St. John’s College, Battersea, and -Mr. George John Stevenson, M.A., was appointed to the responsible -position. Both the chaplain and the head master shared alike the deep -sense of the responsibility involved in the undertaking, as any amount of -failure would have been a disaster to be deplored in many ways. So that -it required a strong resolution on the part of those officials to secure -success. Mr. Stevenson had to assume the position of father of the -family, superintending the food, clothing, recreation, and education of -the inmates. A new and experienced matron took charge of the domestic -arrangements, and thus, from the very commencement of the new plans, the -inmates were made to share in the comforts designed to improve their -moral and social condition. All the old _régime_ was abandoned. It had -broken down completely so far as either elevating the inmates or securing -public patronage were concerned. The Government paid for each of their -boys a fixed sum, which supplied the finances required for working the -institution, and a cheerful prospect opened out from the beginning, which -was shared alike by the officers and those under their care. That some -of the more daring spirits should seek to trespass on the additional -liberty thus afforded them was natural; that some few should give -evidence of their innate desire for wrong-doing was not surprising. The -first who violated their agreement to obedience soon found that the -arrangements made with the police authorities were such as effectually -broke down all their schemes for hastening their liberty. Five or six of -the young rascals who escaped one Sunday evening just before bedtime were -speedily brought back either by the police or by the superintendent of -the institution early the next day, even when scattered over the -metropolis; this had a very deterring effect on such efforts in future. -They did not believe in what a writer in “The Christian Life” says— - - “Obscured life sets down a type of bliss, - A mind content both crown and kingdom is;” - -but rather in what a writer in _The Sunday at Home_ for 1878 says— - - “Then while the shadows lingering cloked us, - Down to the ghostly shore we sped.” - -Those who exercised more patience and discretion were allowed to spend a -day with their relatives and to begin to familiarize themselves with the -sweets of liberty; and these, after a few months’ experience, were sent -out into the world to make a new start in life in such occupations as -they had learned during their confinement; or those who preferred a -seafaring life were placed in the merchant service. A number of gipsy -children, sad to relate, have found their way into our present-day -reformatories, industrial schools, and like places. - -When at Bristol in 1882, inspecting along with a number of ladies and -gentlemen the training ship, the superintendent pointed out to me several -little gipsies who had been placed under his charge to become either “men -or mice.” - -The first year’s experience was of the most gratifying character. The -Home Secretary, the Earl of Carlisle, the Bishop of Oxford, and other -distinguished persons, visited the institution; and, desiring to become -acquainted with the details of the daily experience, sought an interview -with Mr. Stevenson, on whom depended mainly the results of the -experiment. The effect of those personal investigations was shown by the -too early dispatch of a much more numerous company of young transports -from Parkhurst. The design was to relieve a heavy pressure felt there; -but it had the effect of increasing the difficulties in the Reformatory -School in Southwark. With the enlarged operations the official staff had -to be increased, and the same superintendence worked out the same results -on a larger scale after a little undue tension on both mind and body. -The young persons reclaimed by that process found ready openings all over -London, and these were frequently visited by the superintendent during -the hours the inmates were at work. The education, conducted by Mr. -Stevenson and an assistant, did not occupy more than two or three hours -daily, so that handicraft operations might have, as it required, more -time for exercise. - -The first reformatory school for young criminals in the metropolis was, -at the end of two years’ experience, a marked and decided success. The -mental strain on the superintendent was great and continuous, the duties -allowed of no respite for vacation; but as great and permanent advantages -were hoped for by the Home Government, all connected with the institution -worked for that result, and they had the satisfaction of seeing it. At -the end of two years it was resolved to give the institution a more -agricultural character, after the example of one established at Mettray, -in France, whose founder visited the Philanthropic, in Southwark, during -its new experience. To carry out that plan the erection of the -Philanthropic Farm School at Red Hill, Reigate, was undertaken. At that -time the trustees of the old endowed school on Lambeth Green required a -head master, and, unsolicited on his part, Mr. Stevenson was unanimously -elected to that office, visiting only occasionally the new establishment, -which required officers with agricultural experience; and it was -gratifying to him to know that the foundations so broadly laid were -successful on a larger scale in working the permanent reformation of -juvenile criminals out in the open country than they could possibly be in -the crowded metropolis. - -The success of this plan for dealing with juvenile criminals makes it -evident that a wise statesmanlike plan of educating the gipsy children -would turn them into respectable and useful members of society, instead -of their growing up to make society their prey. - - * * * * * - -To come back to the gipsies upon the “Flats,” I bade my friend good-bye, -and began in earnest to carry out the object of my visit. - -I had not been long on the ground—_marshy flats_—before I saw a young man -scampering off to a tumble-down show with a loaf of bread and two red -herrings in his arms. He had no hat upon his head, and his hair was cut -short. His face was bloated, presenting a piebald appearance of red, -white, and black, with a few blotches into the bargain. His foolish -colouring paint, jokes, and antics had dyed his skin, stained his -conscience, and blackened his heart. His clothing consisted of part of a -filthy ragged shirt and a pair of patched and ragged breeches. They -looked as if the owner and the tailor were combined in one being, and -that the one who stood before me. The stitches in his breeches could not -have presented a stranger appearance if they had been worked and made -with a cobbler’s awl and a “tackening end.” His boots in better days -might have done duty in a drawing-room, but were now transformed. With a -laugh and a joke I captured my new friend, and notwithstanding that he -had his dinner in his arms, we entered into a long chat together. - -I soon found out that he was the “old fool” of the show, with which he -was connected, and was known among his fraternity as “Old Bones,” -although he did not seem to be over twenty years old. His salary for -being the “old fool,” young fool, a fool to himself, and a fool for -everybody, was four shillings a week and his “tommy,” or “grub,” which, -as he said, was “not very delicious” at all times. I asked “Old Bones” -why he was nicknamed “Old Bones.” He said, “Because some of our chaps -saw me riding upon an old bony horse one day, with its bones sticking up -enough to cut you through, and the more I wolloped it the more it stuck -fast and would not go.” When I heard this, one of the ditties I know in -the days of my child slavery in the brickfield came up as green as ever— - - “If I had a donkey and it would not go, - Must I wollop it? No, no, no!” - -“Our chaps,” said Bones, “laughed at me. I had to dismount and let the -brute take its chance; and from that day I have been named ‘Old Bones.’” -“I’m not very old, am I?” he said, and began to kick about on the ground. -But I would not let him go, for I wanted to learn something of his -antecedents. He had been a gutta percha shoemaker, and could earn his -pound or more per week, but preferred to tramp the country as an “old -fool,” live on red herrings, dress in rags, and sleep on straw under the -stage. Before he had quite finished his story, another man, dressed in a -suit of dirty, greasy, seedy-looking, threadbare, worn-out West of -England black cloth, joined us. “Old Bones,” after a good shake of the -hand, vanished to his show, red herrings, and “quid of baccy,” and I was -left alone with my second acquaintance. I was not long in finding out, -according to his statement, that he was a “converted Jew,” and had been -to the “Cape” and lost £5000 in the diamond fields, and had come home to -“pull up” again, instead of which, he had gone from bad to worse, and was -now tramping the country with an old showman as a “fire king,” and -sleeping under the stage among old boxes, rags, and straw. His real name -was —, but was passing through the world as W—. Strange to say, I knew -his brother-in-law, who is a leading man in one of the large English -towns. - -When I asked the “fire king” how he liked his new profession, he said, -“Not at all; at first it was dreadful to get into the taste of the -paraffin and oil. After you have put the blazing fusees into your mouth, -they leave a taste that does not mix up very well with your food. -Paraffin is a good thing for the rheumatics. I never have them now.” I -questioned him as to the process the mouth underwent previous to the -admission of lighted fusees. “If you keep your mouth wet,” he replied, -“have plenty of courage, and breathe out freely, the blazing fire will -not hurt you.” My new friend had much of a suspicious cast upon his -features; so much so, indeed, that in one of his tramps from Norwich to -Bury St. Edmunds, in one day he was taken up three times as “one who was -wanted” by the policeman, for doing work not of an angelic kind. - -In a van belonging to the owner of “a show of varieties,” there were -eight children, besides man, wife, and mother-in-law. The showman could -read, and chatter almost like a flock of crows; but none of the children, -including several little ones, who assisted him in his performances, -could either read or write, except one or two who had a “little -smattering.” The showman quite gloried in having beaten the Durham -School Board authorities, who had summoned him for not sending his -children to school, while temporarily residing in the city. He defied -them to produce the Act of Parliament compelling him as a traveller to -send his children to school. The school authorities had sued him under -their own by-laws, and as they could not produce the Act, he came off -with flying colours. - -Business was slack with this showman, and he undertook to introduce me to -all the “showmen and shows” in the gipsy fair. Of course, I had only -time to visit a few of the _best_ specimens. The first show, which was -to be a pattern of perfection, was “boarded.” I must confess I did not -much like the idea of mounting the steps, in the face of thousands of -sightseers, to pass through “fools,” jesters, mountebanks, and painted -women dressed in little better than “tights,” and amidst the clash of -gongs and drums. I kept my back to the crowd, slouched my cap, buttoned -up my coat to the throat, hung down my head, and crept in to witness one -of the “Sights of London.” After I had duly arrived inside, I was -introduced to my friends the leading performers, amongst whom were the -smallest huntsman in the world and the youngest jockey. While we were -fraternizing, a row commenced between two of the leading women connected -with the show. Two travelling showmen—brothers—had married two -travelling showwomen—sisters—among whom jealousy had sprung up. Tears -and oaths were likely to be followed by blows sharp and strong and a -scattering of beautiful locks of hair. I seemed to be in a fair way for -landing into the midst of a terrible row between the two masculine -sisters, whose arms and legs indicated no small amount of muscular -strength, while their eyes blazed with mischief. One of the dressed -showmen, an acrobat, came to me and said, that I was not to think -anything of the _fracas_, the women had had only a little chip out, they -would be sobered down in a little time. The women came round me with -their tale, but I thought it the wisest plan not to interfere in the -matter, and kept “mum,” for fear that I might get my bones into trouble. -Happily the policeman appeared upon the scene, and before the curtain -dropped, and the performing pony had finished his antics, I had with my -showman friend made myself scarce. He said he was very sorry, and -apologized for having introduced me to his friends under such -circumstances. I could see he was chopfallen at the result, as this was -a “going concern” in which all parties engaged were to be held up to me -as paragons of perfection in the performing and showing business. - -My showman friend, according to his own statements, had been almost -everything in the “show” line, ranging from that of a tramp to an “old -fool.” To my mind he was well qualified for either, or anything else in -this line of business, with will strong enough to drag his eight children -after him; at any rate, himself and his large family were going fast to -ruin. - -I now visited wax-work shows, and saw the noble heads of the great and -good arranged side by side with those of notorious murderers and scamps, -reminding me very much of what is to be the lot of all of us in our last -resting-place. I had the opportunity of seeing the greatest horse alive, -“dog monkeys,” “tight-rope dancers,” performing “kanigros,” “white -bears,” “stag hunt,” “slave market,” “working model of Jumbo,” “fat -women,” acrobat dancers, female jugglers, Indian sack feat, female -Blondin, cannon firing, and a lifeboat to the rescue. My friend wanted -his tea, and left me now to pursue my way as best I could. For a few -minutes I stood and looked at the scene; under the glare of their lamps -actors pulled their faces, performed their megrims, danced their dances, -chuckled, winked, shouted, and rattled their copper and silver, as the -simpletons stepped upon the platform to “step in and take their places -before the performance commenced.” Of course all the shows in the fair -were not to be classed in the black list. In some of them useful -information and knowledge were to be gained. It was the debasing -surroundings that had such a demoralizing effect upon the young folks. - -Turning from the shows I began again to visit the vans. In one van owned -by a Mr. B. there were a man, woman, and nine children, four of whom were -of school age. The woman had been a Sunday-school teacher in her early -days, but, alas! in an evil hour, she had listened to the voice of the -charmer, and down she began to travel on the path to ruin, and she is -still travelling with post haste, unless God in His goodness and mercy -hath opened her eyes. She told me that she would have sent four of the -children to school last winter while they were staying with their van at -Brentwood, but the school authorities would not allow them without an -undertaking that the children should be sent for one year. They were on -Chigwell Common all last winter, and could have sent their children to -school. She said they were often a month in a place, and would be glad -to send the children to school if means were adopted whereby the children -could go as other children go. None of them except the poor woman could -tell a letter. She had been brought up in a Church of England Sunday -school, and could repeat the creeds, &c. “Sometimes,” she said, “I teach -the children to say their prayers; but what use is it among all those bad -children and bad folks? It is like mockery to teach children to pray -when all about are swearing. I often have a good cry over my Sunday -dinner,” said the poor woman, “when I hear the church bells ringing. The -happy days of my childhood seem to rise up before me, and my -Sunday-school hours, and the sweet tunes we used to sing seem to ring in -my ears.” - - “Oh, come, come to school, - Your teachers join in praises - On this the happy pearl of days; - Oh, come, come away. - - The Sabbath is a blessed day, - On which we meet to praise and pray, - And march the heavenly way; - Oh, come, come away.” - -And, with a deep-drawn sigh, she said, “Ah! they will never come again; -no, never! I should like to meet all my children in heaven; but with a -life like this it cannot, and I suppose will not be.” I gave the -children some little books and some coppers, and then bade her good-bye -with a sad and heavy heart, which I sometimes feel when I witness such -sorrowful sights. Among the crowd of sightseers were, gaudily dressed in -showy colours, a number of “gipsy girls,” anxious to tell simpletons -“their fortunes;” and I rather fancy a goodly number listened to their -bewitching tales and lies. Dr. Donne, in “Fuller’s Worthies,” says of -gipsies— - - “Take me a face as full of frawde and lyes - As gipsies in your common lottereyes, - That is more false and more sophisticate - Than our saints’ reliques, or man of state; - Yet such being glosed by the sleight of arte, - Faine admiration, wininge many a hart.” - -I next came upon a gipsy tent, _i.e._, a few sticks stuck in the ground -and partly covered with rags and old sheeting. The bed in this tent was -a scattering of straw upon the damp, cold ground. Here were a man, -woman, and four children. The woman and children were in a most pitiable -condition. None could tell a letter. One of the children lay crouched -upon a little straw—and it was a cold day—in one corner of the tent. -Such a pitiable object I have never seen. It was very ill; it could not -speak, stand, hear, or eat; and it was terribly emaciated. If ever sin -in this world had blighted humanity, before me lay a little human being -upon whom sin seemed to have poured forth its direful vengeance without -stint or measure. With an aching heart I deeply sympathized with the -gipsy woman and little gipsy children, whose sad condition is worse than -the Rev. Mark Guy Pearse’s “Rob Rat,” which could scarcely be; and I did -what I could to cheer them. - - [Picture: Two English gipsy princesses “at home”] - -I visited a number of tents, and wandered among the poor children and -gipsy dogs that were squatting about in the dark upon the cold, wet -ground. One fine-faced gipsy Lee and his good gipsy wife have had a -family of nineteen children, all of whom were born on the roadside; most -of whom are now grown up and have large families. It is fearful to -contemplate the number of gipsy wanderers and hedgebottom travellers from -this family who are neither doing themselves or the country any good. - -There were on the “Flats” at the gipsy fair about one hundred and thirty -families in tents and in vans; and of this number there would be forty -families squatting about with their lurcher dogs, ready for any kind of -game, big or little, black or white, bound by bars or as free as the air. -As a rule a gipsy’s list of game includes, according to Asiatic notions -and ideas, all the eatable live or dead stock in creation that either he -or his dog can lay their hands upon or stick their teeth into. - -There must have been over four hundred gipsy and other travelling -children going without education, and not one could ever have been in a -Sunday school. - -It was about 10.30. The mouths and hearts of those who were left began -to breed venomous, waspish words. At any rate, all the more steady and -sensible part of the sightseers were wending their way homewards. Others -were making for the beershops and public-houses, and the riff-raff were -loitering about for what they could pick up. Policemen seemed to be -creeping upon the ground, buttoned up to the throat, and ready for any -emergency. - -A few yards from where I was standing I noticed, by the aid of gas, -naptha, and paraffin, a gipsyish-looking man standing, opposite one of -the cottages, with his arms folded over the palings. I soon found out -that he was a gipsy, but had recently taken to house-dwelling, and was -now engaged in labourer’s work with bricklayers. He invited me into his -comfortably furnished house, and introduced me to his tidy wife, who was -not a gipsy, and two good-looking little children. I had a few minutes’ -chat with them. He gave me a short account of the suffering, trials, and -hardships which he endured while tramping the country, and living in -tents, and under vans, and on the roadside. “In early life,” he said, -“when I was quite a child, I was placed with my uncle, who is a gipsy -horsedealer, to live with him and my aunt, in their van. For a time they -behaved well to me, and I slept in the van at nights. From some cause or -other, which I have never been able to make out, I was sent to sleep -under the van with the dogs’, and to lie upon straw with but little -covering. My food now was such as I could pick up—turnips, potatoes, or -any mortal thing that I could lay my hands upon. In the winter time I -have had to gnaw and nibble a cold turnip for my dinner like a sheep. I -used to have to run about in all weathers to do the dirty work of my -uncle, mind his horses, ponies, and donkeys in the lanes and fields, for -which he would not give me either food, clothing, or lodgings, other than -what I looked out for myself. My clothing I used to beg, and, when once -put upon my back, there they stuck till they dropped off by pieces. I -had a hard time of it for many years, I can tell you, and no mistake. My -uncle is now a gentleman horsedealer, and keeps his carriage and his -servants to wait upon him. He is well known in London. If he meets or -sees me in the streets he turns his head another way, and won’t look at -me, though I helped to make his fortune. Every dog has its day, and my -turn may come. We gave up drink, and I go to the church and chapel when -I have the chance, and I am all the better for it, thank God. I may be -as well off as my cruel old uncle some day.” I shook hands with this -gipsy family, and bade them God speed, and turned again into the fair and -among the gipsy tents. Some of the gipsy and other travelling children -were running about picking up scraps and crumbs that had fallen from the -bad man’s table. Every piece of paper that had the appearance of having -been folded up was eyed over with eager curiosity and wonder by the poor -little urchins before they would believe that it was full of emptiness. - -The women were putting the little gipsies to bed, and their evening -prayers in many cases were oaths. They had never been taught to lisp the -evening prayer— - - “Jesus, tender Shepherd, hear me, - Bless Thy little lamb to-night; - Through the darkness be Thou near me, - Keep me safe till morning light.” - -They threw off their outer garments, rolled under some old, dirty, filthy -rags at one end of their little tent, crouching together like so many -pigs, and snoozed and snored away till morning, except when they were -trampled upon or wakened by their drunken gipsy parents. It is horrible -to think that not one of this number, between six and seven hundred men, -women, and children—so far as I have been able to make out—ever attended -a place of worship on Sundays, or offered a prayer to God at eventide. -Sin! sin! wretchedness, misery, and degradation from the year’s beginning -to the year’s end! Would to God that a comet from His throne, as they -sit under the starlight of heaven, would flash and flash upon their -mental vision till they asked themselves the question, “Whither are we -bound?” Christian England! - - “Up! a great work lies before you, - Duty’s standard waveth o’er you. - - Stretch a hand to save the sinking - Carried down sin’s tide unthinking.” - -“The pangs of hell,” as the Rev. C. H. Spurgeon says in the _Christian -Herald_, March 31, 1880, “do not alarm them, and the joys of heaven do -not entice them” to do their duty. With tears of blood I would say, Oh -that the voice of Parliament and the action of the Government were seen -and heard taking steps to educate the poor gipsy children, so that they -may be enabled to read and repeat prayers—even if their parents have lost -parental regard and affection for their own offspring. - -The business of the day was now over, and it was evident that the time -had arrived for “paying off old scores.” The men and women had begun to -collect together in groups. Murmurings and grumblings were heard. The -tumult increased, and presently from one group shouts of “Give it him, -Jock” were echoing in the air, disturbing the stillness of the night. -Thumps, thuds, and shrieks followed each other in rapid succession. I -closed in with the bystanders. Blood began to flow from the “millers,” -who looked murderously savage at each other. Thus they went on “up and -down Welsh fashion” for a few minutes, till one gipsy woman cried out, -“He’s broken Jock’s nose, a beast him.” The policeman came now quietly -along as if his visit would have done on the morrow. One woman shouted -out, “Bobby is coming, now it is all over.” To me it looked as if -“Bobby” did not like the job of quelling gipsy rows; if he had to quell -them it would seem that he had rather they let off some of the steam got -up by revenge, spite, and beer before he tackled them. - -While this gang of gipsies were separating, another row was going on near -to a large public-house, to which I hastened, and arrived in time to see -one of them “throw up the sponge.” There were no less than half a dozen -fights in less than half an hour. It was now half-past eleven, and I -began to think that it was quite time that I looked out for my night’s -lodging, so I entered into council with the policeman. We visited -eating-houses, coffee-houses, lodging-houses, public-houses, and shops in -Forest Gate without success. The policeman advised me to walk to -Stratford. This I could not do, for I began to feel rather queer and -giddy; my only prospect was either to pass the night at the station, on -the “Flats,” or return by the last train. No time was to be lost. I -hastily took my ticket, and almost rolled and tumbled down the steps and -into the train, which took me to Fenchurch Street Station, in a somewhat -bewildered state as to my next move forward. For a minute or two I stood -still, lost in wonder. The policeman soon appeared on the scene with his -“Please move on” and gruff voice. I told him I wanted to “move on,” if -he would tell me where to move to. “There are,” answered the policeman, -“plenty of shops to move into in London, if that is what you mean. It -depends what sort of shop you want. If you have got plenty of money, -there is the ‘Three Nuns.’” And he also pointed out one or two other -first-class places in Aldgate. I bade the policeman good night, and went -across the street to look at the “Three Nuns,” which was being closed for -the night. The outside of the place indicated to me that I should have -to dip more deeply into my pocket than my financial position would allow, -and I turned to look for fresh quarters in Aldgate. It was now past -twelve o’clock, and all the places, except one or two, were closed. On -the door of an eating-house and coffee-shop I espied a light, and thither -I went. Fortunately the servants were about, and the landlady was -enjoying her midnight meal. A bed was promised, and after a long chat -with the landlady and some supper, I was shown into my room, the -appearance of which I did not like; but it was “Hobson’s choice, that or -none.” There were two locks upon the door, and I had taken the -precaution to have plenty of candles and matches with me. It looked as -if a broken-down gentleman had been occupying it for some time, who had -suddenly decamped, leaving no traces of his whereabouts. There was but -little clothing upon the bed, and the springs were broken and “humpy.” I -turned into it to do the best I could till morning. The smell of the -room was that of sin. The rattling about the stairs during the whole of -the night was not of a nature to produce a soothing sensation. I felt -with Charles Wesley, when he wrote - - “God of my life, whose gracious power - Through varied deaths my soul hath led, - Or turned aside the fatal hour, - Or lifted up my sinking head.” - -It would have been helpful if I could have sung out in this miserable -abode, for such it was to me— - - “My song shall wake with opening light, - And cheer the dark and silent night.” - -I tossed about nearly all night, and at seven o’clock I turned out to get -an early breakfast, and to make my way back to “Wanstead Flats” to have a -last peep at my gipsy friends. I arrived about eight o’clock. Some of -the show folks and show keepers must have had but little sleep, for I -found them moving off the Flats for a run out to their country seats, -leaving behind them the seeds of sin, sown by ignorance, fostered by an -evil heart, and watered by oaths and curses. - -I turned in to have another chat with my gipsy friends, who had taken to -house-dwelling, and to listen to their pretty little girl singing as only -children can sing - - “Whither, pilgrims, are you going?” - -which caused me to undergo a process of screwing up my feeling, and -winking and blinking to avoid any sign of weakness becoming visible. - -What a blessed future there would be for our gipsies and other vagabonds, -if all their children could sing with tear-fetching pathos, “Whither, -pilgrims, are you going,” in a way that would bring their parents often -to their knees! - -I bade them good-bye, and made my way back to London and home. I was far -from well, and it was fortunate I had sent word over-night to my wife, -asking her to meet me part of the way from the station, as I was coming -by the last train. - -The night was dark, very dark and wet, and with a giddy sensation -creeping over me, I stepped out of the train and began to wend my way -home, reeling about like a drunken man. I staggered and walked fairly -well for more than half the distance, till I felt that I must pull up or -I should tumble. For a few minutes I stood by a gate, my forehead and -hands felt as cold as a lobster, with a clammy sweat upon them. I felt -at my pulse, but the deadness of my fingers rendered them insensible to -the throbbings of the human gauge fixed in our wrists. - -Not a star in the heavens was visible to send its little twinkling cheer. -If the bright brilliant guiding lamps of heaven had receded ten degrees -backwards into the dark boundless space, the heavens could not have been -darker. Everything was as still as death, and I did not seem to be -making any headway at all. Neither sound of man nor horse could be -heard. Oh! how I did wish and pray that somebody would pass by to give -me a lift. I made another start, and had got as far as a heap of stones -on the side of the road, when I felt that if I were to swoon, or to have -a fit, or die, it would be better to be off the road. I was just going -to sit upon the heap of stones, and had dropped my “Gladstone bags,” when -I heard the patter of some little feet in the distance. I pricked up my -ears, and shouted out as loud as I could, “Halloo, who’s there.” The -answer came from my wife and little folks, “It is we.” I was steadied -home between them, and found to my joy a good fire and supper awaiting -me. I then thanked God for all His mercies and retired to my couch, -feeling as Richard Wilton, M.A., felt when he penned the following lines -for the _Christian Miscellany_, 1882— - - “Some fruit of labour will remain, - And bending ears shall whisper low, - Not all in vain.” - - - - -Rambles among the Gipsies at Northampton Races. - - -IN the midst of doubts and perplexities, sometimes inspired with -confidence and at other times full of misgivings, and with my future -course completely hidden from me as if I had been encircled by the -blackest midnight darkness, with only one little bright star to be seen, -I mustered up the little courage left in me; and with great difficulty -and many tears of sorrow and disappointment, I started by the first -train, with as light a load of troubles as possible under the -circumstances, to find my way to Northampton races, to pick up such facts -and information relating to the poor little gipsy tramps that Providence -placed in my way, or I could collect together. - -After the usual jostling, crushing, and scrambling by road and rail, -smoke, oaths, betting, gambling, and swearing, I found myself seated in a -tramcar in company with one gentleman only, and, strange to say, of the -name of “Smith,” but not a “gipsy Smith,” nor a racing “Smith,” of whom -there are a few; in fact, there are more gipsies of the name of “Smith” -than there are of any other name. It may be fortunate or unfortunate for -me that I cannot trace my lineage to a “gipsy Smith,” and that my -birthplace was not under some hedge bottom, with the wide, wide world as -a larder that never needed replenishing by hard toil. All required of -the “gipsy kings” of the ditch bank, now as in days of yore—so long as -the present laws are winked at, and others intended to reach them are -shelved—is to “rise, kill, and eat,” for to-morrow we die, and the devil -take the hindmost. My friend Mr. Smith was left in the car, and I sped -my way upon the course. I had not been long in wandering about before I -was joined by a respectable-looking old man, who evidently had done his -share of hard work on “leather and nails,” and was on the lookout for -ease and fresh air during the remainder of his pilgrimage to the one of -two places in store for him. After a few minutes’ conversation about the -“ities” and “isms” rampant at Northampton, and our various views upon -them, we separated at the edge of the gipsy encampment, wigwams, squalor, -and filth. I took the right turning—at least I have no doubt about its -proving so in the long run—and he took the left turning; and to this day -we have not run against each other again. - -The gipsies, _Push_-gipsies, and Gorgios were hard at work putting up -their tents and establishments, and I in the meantime walked and trotted -the course in a morning’s airing fashion, coming in contact occasionally -with a sceptic, infidel, and freethinker. These were turned away in my -rough fashion, and my wandering racing meditations brought forth some of -the following seeds of thought as I paced backwards and forwards upon the -turf. At any rate they are problems, maxims, and aphorisms—such as they -are—that have appeared before my vision in my gipsy rambles as I have -been working out my gipsy plans, and are, I think, as worthy of a place -here as the misleading gipsy lore and lies we have read and heard of. -Some of these will probably die as they bud into life, others may keep -green for a little time, and there may be a few that will live and cause -a few wanderers to take notes of the journey: - -Little, cramped, and twisted ideas of God are the outcome of froth and -foam, set in motion by thwarted conceit and mortified vanity. - -Vaunted scepticism is the poisonous fungus of decaying minds and rotten -ideas. - -Infidelity is hellish divinity gone mad. - -Nihilists and Fenians are crawlers, who crawl out of rotten heaps of -wrongs, which the light of day turns into devil-flies, with fiery hate in -their eyes and poisonous stings in their tails. - -Socialists and Communists are the rotten toads of society, whose love for -the country’s welfare consists in inflating themselves till they burst, -like the frog in the fable. - -Infidels and sceptics are the devil’s bats, with one of their wings -cropped shorter than the other. - -The froth, foams, and fumes of sceptics and infidels are only a little -hellish mist that temporarily dims our eyeglasses, which the sun of truth -dispels with laughing smiles. - -The soft tears of love are the nightly mist-drops of heaven, which the -dawn of the eternity turns into the everlasting snowdrops of paradise. - -Our godly prayers sent heavenward are preserved by our heavenly Father, -and will, on our arrival on the shores of paradise, become the merry -pealing bells of heaven which will chime through eternal ages. - -In the spirit of disobedience there is an unseen power that can draw down -the greatest curse of Heaven. - -The spirit of love is a heavenly wand that causes everything to laugh and -dance that comes under its influence. - -The spirit of hate is a Satanic rod of such baneful influence that it -withers and kills everything that it touches. - -Our loving, trickling tears of penitence and contrition are being -collected by God to form the pure, transparent streams and rivers of joy -and gladness which are to run through the celestial city; and those whose -lot it has been to shed many upon earth will have increased happiness in -heaven from the fact that they have contributed more largely to make -heaven more beautiful and lovely by adding to the refreshing streams of -paradise. - -The prayers of trouble of God’s children upon earth are being reset in -heaven to angelic music, which, on our landing upon the heavenly shores, -are to be our songs of joy and praise. - -Selfish, hollow, hypocritical, sleek-tongued deceivers are the four-faced -and four-headed Satanic demons of society. Their home is among the mud; -they can smile in the sunshine; but their deeds are dirty and poisonous. -They are difficult to catch, but more difficult to hold when caught. - -Pop-gun liberality, when it is the outcome of a little, bad heart, -selfishness, and pride, may be compared to bubbles rising upon putrid -waters. In the distance, and with a smiling sun, the various colours -present a beautiful enchanting appearance; but as you near them the -blackness, fitfulness, and stench is observable, and you turn away -disgusted. - -A double-headed face without eyes is he who spends a lifetime in wrecking -others to hoard up ill-gotten gold, which, when in the last extremity and -in fear of being wrecked himself, he throws overboard to some benevolent -object, trusting to God’s lovingkindness and tender mercies to turn it -into a lifeboat that will bring him safe to land. - -As the sun is the centre of our solar system of heavenly bodies, giving -light to the eleven illuminating planets of various colours, Mercury, -Venus, Earth, Mars, Ceres, Pallas, Juno, Vesta, Jupiter, Saturn, and the -_Georgium Sidus_ moving round it, so in like manner is LOVE the centre of -the heavenly graces, giving light and beauty to the eleven Christian -characteristics, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, -meekness, industry, honesty, temperance, and chastity. - -Every action of retaliation is a bunch of hard prickles, and it has in -the centre of it a wasps’ nest, and the buzzing of the wasps can be heard -and their stings felt by the bystanders; while every act of love is a -collection of perfumed, fragrance-scented oils, with a cooing dove on the -top as a guard. - -Retaliation and revenge are a dark cave, sending forth sulphurous fumes -and the groans of hell; while forgiveness and love are a lovely garden of -fragrant flowers, with cooing doves and rippling water-brooks in the -midst, sending forth heavenly music. - -As the process of “inoculation” applied to flowers gives to us the most -beautiful coloured, tinted, edged, and lovely flowers, so in like manner -it is with the Spirit of Christ. When once the Spirit of Christ is -brought into contact with our human nature, refined sentiment and -feelings—the Christian graces—soon become manifest. - -As the wind and storm shake off the fruit which has the least hold upon -the tree, so in like manner it is with the members of Christian Churches -and the State. Those members and citizens the most careless, loveless, -and cold, who have the least hold upon the Church, God, and the State, -storms and persecution readily bring to the ground. - -Death-wishers, with evil hearts, in pursuit of a good man, are the -parents and life-bearers of immortal fame, which will sit upon the object -of their malice, hate, and spite as a crown of precious jewels; and that -which they intended and still intend to be the arrow of death God has -turned and is turning into a tree of life, ever budding, blossoming, and -teeming with endless delicious fruits. - -Hope is the magic Luna of heaven let down and swinging to and fro in -earth by golden cords, which answers to the call of young or old, rich or -poor, wise or simple, learned or ignorant, and transfers darkness into -light, hell into heaven, and devils into saints. Under its power poverty -becomes riches, tears of sorrow songs of joy, sickness health, and death -life. - -The last man stands the first on a backward course. - -An idle man is the devil’s standard-bearer, and works harder and does -more service by his example than any man in the black force. - -The first man who arrives at the top of a hill is the man to live the -longest, see the most, and enjoy the most happiness. - -Mysterious actions, according to the intent of the author, are either the -seeds of life or the seeds of death. - -As fire and cooking brings out the sweetness of food to make it -digestible, so in like manner the fiery trials of affliction bring out -the sweetness of a Christian character, making his path through life -pleasant, agreeable, and profitable. - -Private prayer is the Christian’s log, which indicates the rate he -travels towards heaven, and Christlike acts of benevolence are the -log-book in which his speed is registered. - -When a professing Christian dances about among the members of Christian -Churches solely for the sake of trade and filthy lucre, it may be taken -as an indication that he has stuck a broom upon his masthead, and is open -for sale to the highest bidder. - -Birds, bees, and wasps pick the finest and sweetest fruit, so in like -manner naughty men, women, and children pick at the sweetest children of -heaven whom God loves and smiles upon. - -False, misleading sentiment is the devil’s tonic sol-fa, set to music to -suit his hearers. - -To keep out of fogs is to live on a hill, so in like manner to keep out -of damping thoughts and foggy doubts about God’s ways and doings is to -live high up in His favour. - -As atmospheric influences round marshy spots, rushy swamps, and low -meadows produce a meteoric light called “Jack-o’-Lantern,” which in the -distance looks beautiful to outsiders flitting about in the dark, carried -by an unseen hand, but which is dangerous to follow, so in like manner it -is with scientific Christianity apart from the Gospel. - -A scientific Christian held up as a light without Christ is a -“Will-o’-the Wisp” Christian. - -Fawners and flatterers are like dogs that have worms in their tails and -wag them to strangers; they are not to be trusted. - -A backslider is a tree with three parts of the top cut down, leaving -sufficient above ground to serve as a warning to others, or as a post -upon which to hang a gate to prevent others passing that way. - -If a writer wishes to add lustre to his literary fame, he will best -succeed in his purpose by turning “French polisher,” instead of becoming -a literary thief. - -To polish and give artistic touches to a crude cabinet, bringing out its -beauty and defects, showing the knots and grain, gives credit to the -artist; while to run away with the rough and unpolished jewels it -contains, claiming as his own that which belongs to another, brings -disgrace and ruin. - -To drive successfully along the crooked and zigzag lanes of life, time -and space must be taken to go round the corners. Fools can drive along a -straight level, but it takes a wise man to round the down-hill corners -without a spill over. - -Gilt and crested harness does not improve the quality of a poor -emaciated, bony, half-starved horse; so in like manner a few Oxford and -Cambridge gilt touches put upon a sensual, backwood gipsy romantic tale, -will not improve the condition of our gipsies and their children. - - * * * * * - -My wandering meditation being over, I now drew myself up to a gipsy -“grand stand.” To all sensible, good men it appears as a _horrible fall_ -rather than the “grand stand.” Thousands of young men and women, trained -by Christian, godly parents, have been brought to ruin by its rotten -foundation and evil associations. It is a “stand” from which men and -women can see—if they will open their eyes—the wrath of God, the roads to -destruction, and the “course” to hell. - -My first salutation was from three big grizzly poachers’ snaps, a kind of -cross between a bloodhound, greyhound, and a bulldog, that lay at the -entrance of a wigwam, in which lay a burly fellow marked with small-pox, -and whose hair was close shaven off his head and from round his coarse, -thick neck. This specimen of an English gipsy possessed a puggish kind -of nose, a large mouth, and his clothes seemed “greasy and shiny.” The -woman looked an intelligent, strong kind of woman, and well fitted, to -all appearance, for a better life. Round a tin pot upon the greensward -there were three other gipsy tramps, kneeling and gnawing meat off a bone -like dogs, with bread by their sides. They did not growl like dogs, but -they showed me their teeth and muttered, and this was quite sufficient. -The occupation of this gang seemed to be that of attending to a cocoa-nut -establishment, the profits of which, during the races, they had travelled -from London by road in three days to secure. To me it appeared all were -fish that came to their net; and if they did not come of their own -accord, they would not think twice before fetching them. This gipsy -wigwam was the kitchen, drawing-room, dining-room, bedroom, &c., for four -men, one woman, and two big girls, not one of whom could read and write. -The only little gleam of light which shone from the conversation in this -dark abode was when they referred to some gipsies, who, they said, had -been “putting on a pretence of religion in order to fill their pocket,” -and they knew one who “saved over £800 since he had been religious.” “If -I must be religious, I would be religious, and no mistake about it,” said -another. At this they began to swear fearfully. I mentioned several -gipsies who had given up their old habits, and, as I told them, had begun -to lead better lives. “Never,” they said, with a vengeance; to which I -answered, “By their fruits shall ye know them.” I then shook hands, and -wended my way to the next establishment. This was an old cart covered -over entirely with calico from the ridge to the ground. Connected with -this van there were two men and a boy, who, it seems, are novices at the -cocoa-nut profession. To me it appeared that they were tired of the hard -work and tightness of town life, and were trying their fortune at -gipsying and idle-mongering. On the course there would be nearly twenty -cocoa-nut “saloons.” Connected with three of the vans on the course -there were sixteen children and eight men and women, only one of whom -could read and write. In one of the three vans there was a poor little -girl of about nine summers evidently in the last stage of consumption. -Her cheeks were sunken, shallow, and pale; her fingers were long and -thin; her eyes glassy bright, and black hair hung in tangled masses over -her shoulders. I gave the poor girl a penny as she stood at the door of -the filthy van, for which, with much effort she said, “Thank you, sir,” -and sat down on the floor. I said to the mother, formerly a Smith, but -now a G—, “Why don’t you get the poor child attended to?” She replied as -follows: “Well, sir, gipsy children have much more to put up with now -than they formerly had. They cannot half stand the cold and damp we used -to do. They are always catching cold. I only bought a bottle of -medicine this morning for which I paid half a crown, and I cannot be -expected to do more. She has been staying some time with her grandmother -at Bristol, but we did not like leaving her there in case anything -happened to her. If she is to die, we gipsies like our children to die -in the van or tent with us, as may be. We like to see the last of them. -We have hard times of it, we poor women and children have, I can assure -you, sir.” The woman had now begun to do some washing in earnest, not -before it was needed, and while she was scrubbing away at the rags in a -tin pail, she began to tell me some of her history and that of her -grandfather. She said that her mother had “had fifteen children, all -born under the hedge-bottom, nearly all of whom are alive.” I asked her -if any of her family could read and write, and she said, “No, excepting -the poor little girl you see, and she can read and write a little, having -been to a day school in Bristol for a few weeks last winter. I wish they -could read and write, sir, it would be a blessed thing if they could.” -She now referred to her grandfather. At this her eyes brightened up. -She said, “My grandfather was a soldier in the Queen’s service”—the poor -gipsy woman did not understand history so well as cooking hedgehogs in a -patter of clay—“and fought in the battle when Lord Nelson was killed. -And do you know, sir, after Lord Nelson was killed, he was put into a -cask of rum to be preserved, while he was brought to England to be -buried; and I dare say that you will not believe me—my grandfather was -one of those who had charge of the body; but he got drunk on some of the -rum in which Lord Nelson was pickled, and he was always fond of talking -about it to his dying day.” I said, “Do you like rum.” “Yes, we poor -gipsies could live upon rum and ‘’bacca.’” In the van in which the poor -gipsy child and its mother lived there were a man, a baby a few weeks -old, and four other children, huddling together night and day in a most -demoralizing and degrading condition. While standing by the side of this -tumble-down van I found that vans and tents, in which people eat, live, -sleep, and die, are put to other shocking, filthy, and sickening purposes -during fairs and races than habitations for human beings to dwell in. -Sanitary officers, moralists, and Christians must be asleep all over the -country. In going by and round one van I noticed an old woman storming -away at some children with an amount of temper and earnestness that -almost frightened me. Immediately I arrived at the door, and almost -before I could say “Jack Robinson,” she dropped down into a position with -which miners and gipsies are so familiarly accustomed, and began to -tremble, shed “crocodile tears,” and tell a pitiful tale of the sorrows -and troubles of her life, intermixing it with “my dear sirs,” “good -mans,” “God bless yous.” Every now and then she would look up to heaven, -and present a picture of the most saintly woman upon earth. When I asked -her how old she was, she said she was a long way over seventy, but could -not tell me exactly. She further said that she had had sixteen children, -all born under the hedge-bottom, nearly all of them gipsies up and down -the country, some of whom were grandmothers and grandfathers at the -present time. And then she would begin another pitiful tale as follows, -“If you please, my good sir, will you give me a copper, I do assure you -that I have not tasted anything to eat this day, and I am almost famished -with hunger.” And then with trembling emotion she said, wringing her -hands, “I shall die before morning.” After my visits to the other vans, -and before going home, I turned unexpectedly to have another peep at the -old gipsy woman, whom I found to be a long way off dying, and in all -probability I shall see her again before she passes over to the great -eternity. - - [Picture: An English gipsy Duchess—Smith—“rheumaticky and lame”] - -Among the rest, sitting upon a low stool and drinking beer, there was a -big, bony, coarse Frenchman, whom I found out to be a Communist. He was -ostensibly selling calico, lace, and other trifles. His eyes were fiery, -mouth ugly, on account of its having been put to foul purposes, and his -demeanour that of an excited Fenian maddened by revenge and murder. -Round him were a number of poor ignorant folks who could neither read nor -write, and as they listened to his lies and infamy about the clergy, -ministers, the well-to-do tradesmen, professional gentlemen, noblemen, -and royalty, they opened their eyes and mouths as if horrified at his -words and actions. Among other things he said the clergy of the Church -of England were in receipt of over £20,000,000 per annum out of the -pockets of the poor. I questioned him as to the source from which it -came, and if he could point out the items in the Budget. At this he -began to get excited and said, “It came from direct and indirect taxes.” -I said, “Can you give me one instance or give me particulars in any shape -setting forth the direct taxes in this country collected for the benefit -of the clergy to the amount you say?” Instead of replying to this -question he began to stutter and stammer, and appeared before me with his -fists shut, exhibiting all sorts of mountebank megrims to the terror of -some of the listeners and amusement of others. In the end I calmed him -down, and he asked me if I would buy a parrot of him if I saw him again -in two years’ time. One of those who stood by said, “He has got parrots -enough of his own without buying more.” - -Connected with one of the cocoa-nut establishments, and owned by a -good-hearted gipsy from London, there were the clowns, fools, hunchbacked -old women, and other simpletons to catch the “foolish and the gay.” At -the back of this establishment there were all sorts of painted devices, -or I should rather say “daubed” devices, upon the sheets, full of satire -which the fools with plenty of money could not read. One was a barber -shaving his customers; another was a donkey, after he had been well fed, -turning his heels towards his silly friends and kicking them in the face -and sending them sprawling upon the ground with their pockets empty; and -many others with the flags of “Old England” flying in all directions. I -learned some time after that the owner of this establishment during the -two days’ races cleared nearly twenty pounds out of fools and cocoa-nuts, -giving thousands of young folks of both sexes a taste for gambling, and -then clearing off to London with smiles and chuckles, and his poaching -dogs at his heels, leaving his customers to say the next morning, “What -fools we have been, to be sure!” If I had been at the door of their -bedroom I should have bawled out, “No greater fools in existence could -possibly be. When you went upon the race-course you had money if you had -not any sense; this morning you have neither money nor sense, and now you -are neither more nor less than a third of a shrivelled-up sausage without -any seasoning in your nature, unsuitable for pickling and not worth -cooking, fit for nothing but the dunghill, and food for cats and dogs.” -I now took another stroll amongst the gipsies at the other end of the -“course,” and came up against one who owned the “steam-flying -dobby-horses;” but before I began to chat with him one of the gipsy women -whispered in my ear, “It is his wife that has made him; she is very -good-looking and one of the best women in the world; no one can tell why -it was that she took up with the man as his second wife. He would not -have been worth twopence had it not been for her. She is a rare good un, -an’ no mistake. You must not tell him that I say so. She sees to all -the business and he dotes over her. He is not a bad sort of a chap.” I -soon began to chat with the “dobby-horse” owner, and he was not long -before he began to tell me of his cleverness and what he had passed -through, as follows: “You see, sir, a few years ago I had to borrow three -shillings and sixpence to help me to get away from this town, now I’ve -turned the tide and got at the top of the hill. These ‘shooting -galleries,’ ‘dobby-horses,’ ‘flying boxes,’ vans, and waggons are my -own.” Pointing with his finger to a new van, he said, “I made that -myself last winter, and have done all the painting upon the ‘horses’ -myself.” The steam organ, the steam whistle, the shouting, screaming, -and hurrahing, and his face having been in the wars, made it difficult -for me to hear him. He now spoke out louder and referred to family -affairs and some of his early history. “I left Bagworth when I was a -lad, owing to the cruel treatment of a stepmother, and wandered up and -down the country in rags and barefooted, sleeping in barns, and houses, -and piggeries, and other places I could creep into; and in course of time -I fell in with the gipsies and married one. But she was a wretch; oh! -she was a bad un, and I was glad when she died. I am thankful I have got -a better one now. She is a good un; but I must not say anything about -her, we get on well together, and she keeps me straight.” “Bang bang” -and “crack crack” went the bullets out of the rifle guns close to our -ears, against the metal plates, through a long sheet iron funnel of about -twelve inches diameter. “Now then,” cried out a little sharp, dark-eyed, -nimble woman of about thirty-five years—of course upon this point I had -no means of knowing or guessing exactly; I had not examined her teeth. -She might say she was only twenty-eight, a favourite age with some maids -looking out for husbands—“be quick and rub out the marks upon the plate.” -And away the old man trotted at his wife’s bidding, as all good husbands -who are not capable of being masters should do. A “slap” and a “dash” -with the old gipsy’s brush, and all the “pops” were for over obliterated. -What a blessed thing it would be for themselves and future generations if -all the sins committed upon the racecourse that day could have been wiped -out as easily. Why not? - -Upon the “course” there were, at a very rough calculation, nearly fifty -families of gipsies in vans, tents, and carts, in which vans, tents, &c., -there lived over a hundred and fifty children and one hundred men and -women sleeping inside and huddling together with their eyes open, like -rabbits at the bottom of a flour cask, when no other eye sees them but -God’s. While the jockeys were riding to death upon classical horses with -the devil at their heels, to a place where, as Dr. Grosart says in the -_Sunday at Home_, “The surges of wrath crash on the shores infernal,” I -mused, pondered, and then wended my way home for meditation and -reflection, and, as a writer in the _Churchman’s Penny Magazine_ says— - - “We take Thy providence and word - As landmarks on our way.” - - - - -Rambles amongst the Gipsies upon the Warwick Racecourse. - - -SOME men’s lives, it would seem, are decreed by Providence to be spent -among the “extremes” of life and the associations of the world. Some are -walking, talking, humming, and singing to themselves of the joys of -heaven, the pleasures of the world, and the consoling influences of -religion under the bright sunlight of heaven, as they, with light tread, -step along to the goal where they will be surrounded with endless joy, -where the tears of sorrow, bereavement, and anguish are unknown, and -where the little dancing, prattling joys of earth have been transplanted -into the angelic choir of heaven. There are others to be seen sitting -under the shade upon some ditch bank with their elbows upon their knees, -and their faces buried in their hands, enveloped in meditation and -reflection with reference to the doings and dealings of Providence -towards them on their journey of life, with an outlook at times that does -not seem the least encouraging and hopeful, ending in mysteries and -doubts as to the future, and the part they will be called upon to play in -the ending drama. There are many who seem to be groping their way among -the dark and heavy clouds which have been filled by God, in His wisdom, -weighted with trouble and circumstances of earth and self; and while -pacing among the clouds and darkness which have settled upon them almost -too heavy to be borne, they imagine their lot to be the hardest in the -world. Such I thought, has been my lot, as I tripped along, with bag in -hand, over the green carpet, while the warbling little songsters were -singing overhead, and a bright spring sun shining in my face, bringing -life into, on every hand, the enchanting beauty of the orchards, -hedgerows, and meadows, sending forth delicious scents, and lovely sights -of the daisies, primroses, and violets, and a thousand other heavenly -things, on my way to the station on a lovely spring morning to ramble -among the gipsies and others upon the Warwick racecourse. - -In the train, between Welton and Leamington, I met with some sporting -“company’s servants.” One said, “Y. and G. were two of the greatest -scamps in the world. When once the public backed a horse, they were sure -to ‘scratch it.’” They discussed minutely their “bobs,” “quids,” losses, -crosses, and gains. One of the sporting “company’s servants” was a -guard, and he said, “I generally gets the ‘tip’ from some of the leading -betting men I know, who often travel by my train to the races, and I’m -never far wrong.” Another “company’s servant,” related his betting -experiences. “One Sunday,” said he, “I was at Bootle church, near -Liverpool, and heard the preacher mention in his sermon ‘Bend Or,’ and -warned his congregation to have nothing to do with races, and I concluded -that there was something in the horse, or he would not have mentioned his -name in the pulpit. So on Monday morning I determined to put three ‘bob’ -on ‘Bend Or,’ and the result was I had twelve ‘bob’ and a half, that was -a good day’s work for me, which I should not have got if it had not been -for our parson.” I said to the “company’s servant,” “Do you really think -that racing is profitable for those engaged in it, taking all things into -consideration?” “Well,” he said, “to tell you the truth, sir, I do not -think it is. I have often seen dashing, flashing betting characters -compelled to leave their boxes at the station in pawn for a railway -ticket to enable them to get home.” - -After leaving the train and the Avenue Station behind me, I made my way -to my friends, Mr. and Mrs. John Lewis, for “labour and refreshment,” -when, during my midnight tossings, nocturnal wanderings, and rambles in -wonderland, the following rough and crude germs of thought prevented me -getting the sweet repose which tired nature required:— - -The beautiful snowdrop of heaven, and the first in God’s garden, is a -pretty lively child growing up good and pure in the midst of a wretched -family, surrounded by squalor, ignorance, and sin. - -They are enemies, and beware of them, who, in your presence, laugh when -you laugh, sing when you sing, and cry, without tears, when you cry. - -A scientific Christian minister preaching science instead of the gospel, -causing his flock to wander among doubts and hazy notions, is a -scriptural roadman sitting upon a heap of stones philosophizing with -metaphysical skill upon the fineness of the grain, beauty, and excellent -qualities of a piece of granite, while the roads he is in charge of are -growing over with grass, bewildering to the members of his church as to -which is the right road, and leading them into a bog from which they -cannot extricate themselves, and have to cry out for the helping hand to -save, ere they sink and are lost. - -Every glass of beer drunk in a public-house turns a black hair white. - -When a man or woman draws the last sixpence out of his or her pocket in a -public-house, they pull out a cork that lets tears of sorrow flow. - -A publican’s cellar is the storehouse of sorrows. - -A Christian minister who preaches science instead of Christianity and the -Bible, is going through a dark tunnel with a dim lamp at the wrong end of -his boat. - -Beer and spirits make more gaps in a man’s character than righteous women -can mend. - -The finest pottery has to pass through three crucial stages during -manufacture before it can be said to be perfect. First is the “biscuit -oven,” whereby the vessels are made hard and durable. Second is the -“hardening-on kiln,” or an oven with an even, moderate heat to harden or -burn on the surface the various designs and colours which have been -placed there by artistic hands. And the third is the “glost oven,” which -brings out the transparent gloss and finish, and gives beauty to the -gold, oxide, cobalt, nickel, manganese, ochre, stone, flint, bone, iron, -and clay, &c. So in like manner it is with the highest type of a -Christian character. First, there is the family circle with its moulding -and parental influence: this may be called the “biscuit oven,” fixing on -the preparation for the fights and hardships of life. Second, there is -the school and educational progress, which may be compared to the -“hardening-on kiln.” And third, there is the work of the Holy Spirit: -this may be compared to the “glost oven,” which gives the gloss, touch, -and transparency to the vessel. Each of these stages will include the -progressive steps of manufacture leading up to them. - -Spectacles are of no use to a man in the dark. So in like manner -scientific problems cannot help a man to see his way if he is in -spiritual darkness. - -Acrobatic Christians are those whose spiritual backbone and moral -uprightness have been damaged by contortions, megrims, twirlings, and -twisting their Christian character to suit circumstances. - -So long as a man keeps upright the law of gravitation has but little -power over him; immediately he begins to stoop its influence is soon -manifest. So in like manner it is with an upright Christian, and so long -as he keeps his perpendicular position by walking erect in God’s love and -favour he is all right, and the influence of hell trebled cannot bend or -pull him down; immediately he stoops to listen to the voice of the -charmer, and gives way to the gravitation of hell—sin—down he goes, and -nothing but a miracle will bring him upright again. - -A hollow, hypocritical, twirl-about Christian, with no principle to guide -him, is as an empty, shallow vessel pushed out to sea without either -compass, rudder, or sails. - -A man who, Christ-like, stoops to pick up a fallen brother, or who guides -and places a youth upon a successful path, leading to immortality, is a -man among men whom God delights to honour, as Jupiter was among the -heathen gods, and he will be doubly crowned. His crown upon earth will -be studded with lasting pleasure, shining brighter than diamonds; but his -crown in heaven will be studded and illumined with the everlasting smiles -of those he has saved, surpassing in grandeur all the precious stones in -creation. - -When a professing Christian visits the tap-room and places of light -amusement with the hope of finding safe anchorage from the storms of -life, it may be taken as an indication that he is at sea without a -rudder, and the temporary one manufactured in a gin-palace out of frothy -conversation will not bring him safe to land. - -To hold up good works without faith and prayer as a shelter from an angry -God for wrong-doing, is like holding a riddle over your head as a -protection from a thunderstorm. - -A man indulging in a lifetime of sin and iniquity, and then praying to -God and giving alms in the last hours of his existence in the hope of -securing eternal life and endless joy, is like a fowl with a broken neck -and wings struggling to pick up golden grain to give it life and strength -to fly to roost. - -Love and spite dwelling in the heart can no more make a perfect Christian -than poisoned vinegar and cream can make pure honey. - -Every huntsman who jumps a fence makes it easier for those who choose to -follow; and so it is with wrongdoers who jump the bounds of sin and -folly. They are teaching those who follow to shun the plain, open path, -and to take to the walls, fences, and ditches, which end in a broken -neck, amidst the applause of fools. - -Hotbeds of envy and hatred, heated with burning passion, have been -productive of more evil results, direful consequences, bloodshed, cruel -deaths, and foul murders than all the poison extracted from fungi, -hemlock, foxgloves, and deadly nightshade have done since the world -began, or could do, even if envy and hatred were to die to-day and -poisons worked death to the end of time. - -The morals and good deeds of a wicked, sensual, selfish man are the -artificial flowers of hell. - -Some professing Christians have only sufficient Christianity to make a -pocket mirror, which the possessor uses in company as a schoolboy would -to make “Jack-a-dandies.” - -Crowns of credit or renown lightly won sit lightly upon the head, and are -easily puffed off by the first breath of public opinion. - -A man who trusts to his own self-righteousness to get him to heaven is -wheeling a heavily and unevenly laden wheelbarrow up a narrow, slippery -plank over a deep ravine, with a wheel in the front of his wheelbarrow -that is twisted, loose, and awry. - -The devil plays most with those he means to bite the hardest. - -Singing heavenly songs in earthly sorrows brings joy tinged with the -golden light of heaven on the mourner. - -To get the cold, poisonous water of selfishness from our hearts God has -often to furrow and drain our nature and affections by afflictions and -cross purposes. - -Too-much conceited young Christians with little piety, like young -“quickset” hedges, become of more use to the Christian Church and the -world after they have been cut down by persecution and bent by troubles -and afflictions. - -Sin in the first instance is as playful as a kitten and as harmless as a -lamb; but in the end it will bite more than a tiger and sting more than a -nest of wasps. - -A Christian professor outside the range of miracles and under the -influence of the devil is he who is trying to swim to heaven with a -barrel of beer upon his back. - -As fogs are bad conductors of light, sight, and sound, so in like manner -is a Christian living in foggy doubts a bad conductor of the light, -sight, and sounds of heaven. - -Cold, slippery Christians who have no good object before them, and -without a noble principle to guide them, are like round balls of ice on a -large dish; and to set such Christians to work is a worse task than -serving the balls out with a knitting needle. - -Crotchety, doubting, scientific Christians are manufacturers of more -deadly poisons than that produced from pickled old rusty nails. - -The loudest and most quickening sounds to be heard upon earth are from a -beautiful sweet child as it lies in the stillness of the loving arms of -death. - - * * * * * - -Breakfast being over, with my “Gladstone bag” I begun my tramp-trot to -the “course,” and while walking leisurely under the tall trees in one of -the avenues at Leamington, on my way to the racecourse, a circumstance -occurred—which my friend the gipsies say “forbodes good luck and a -fortune, and that I shall rise in the world and have many friends.” -Gipsies say and do queer things. To see, say they, the tail of the first -spring lamb instead of its face forebodes “bad luck” to the beholder -through the year. In the tramcar there was a little dog with a silver -collar round its neck, evidently without an owner. The pretty little -white English terrier whined about in quest of its master or mistress, -but neither was to be found. In the tramcar there was a police inspector -on his way to do double duty at the racecourse. This kind-hearted man -tried hard by coaxing, sop, and caresses to be a friend to the dog; but -no, and for the life of him the dog could not be brought round to look -upon the inspector as a friend. Immediately the tramcar stopped, the -little dog bounded off in search of its owner, but none was to be found, -and the last I saw of the inspector and the lost dog was up one of the -streets at Warwick, with the dog ahead and its tail between its legs, and -the inspector scampering after it as fast as he could run, calling out, -“Stop it,” “Stop it,” “It’s lost;” and away they both went out of sight, -and neither the one nor the other have I seen since. - -I once worked for a master in the slave yards of Brickdom in -Staffordshire, who owned a bulldog. This dog took it into his head one -day to leave its cruel master, and seek fresh lodgings of a better kind. -Spying its opportunity, off it started out of the brickyard as if it was -shot out of a gun; and the master for whom I slaved could not whistle, -and knowing that I could whistle as well as I could cry and sing, bawled -out to me, “Whistle him, whistle him, or I’ll black your eye! I’ve lost -a dog worth five shillings; whistle him!” Of course, under the -circumstances, trembling with fear and fright, I could not “whistle” very -loud. The consequence was, the dog was lost, and I got a “good kick and -a punch.” If the inspector could have whistled for the lost dog in the -tones of its mistress, it would have saved his legs and brought the dog -back to its comfortable home. - -I was no sooner upon the racecourse, paddling through the quagmire, than -I was brought face to face with some of the gipsies—the Hollands and the -Claytons. I had not long been talking to them before one of the old -Hollands came up to me and said, “I know who you are, Mr. Smith of -Coalville; lend’s your hand, and let’s have a good shake. I would not -mind giving five shillings for your likeness.” I told him he need not be -at the expense of giving five shillings for a flattering photograph; he -could have a good stare at the original, with all its faults, blemishes, -and scars, for nothing. In my hands were a lot of picture cards for the -gipsy children, given to me by the Religious Tract Society, upon which -were a lot of texts of Scripture, in pretty patterns. Some of them read -as follows: “My son, forget not my law;” “Thou art my trust from my -youth;” “Thou God seest me;” “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet;” “My son, -give me thine heart;” “Wisdom is more precious than rubies;” “Enter not -into the path of the wicked;” “Even a child is known by his doings;” -“Feed my lambs;” “Hear instruction, and be wise;” “Show piety at home;” -“The Lord bless and keep thee;” “The Lord preserveth all them that love -Him;” “I will guide thee with mine eye;” “The Lord shall preserve thee -from all evil;” and many more. Immediately I had begun to distribute -them among the children clustered round me, Alfred Clayton came up to me, -as close as he could get, and he said, as I read out some of the texts to -the children “I do like them; I could die by them; I’d sooner have some -of them than a meal’s meat at any time. Do give me some, Mr. Smith, and -I’ll get somebody to read them to me, and will take great care of them. -I’ll have them framed and hung up.” The Hollands now asked me to go into -their van, which invitation I gladly accepted. I was no sooner seated -than Mrs. Holland, a big strong woman with pipe in her mouth, began to -tell me how many children they had had, and that she had “been a nurse -for the Lord,” for she had “had twelve children, nine of whom had died -before they were three years old, and three are living, two of whom you -see.” At this point she flew off at a tangent in language not suited for -this book. Any one hearing her would think that she was a somewhat queer -and strange kind of “nurse for the Lord.” Mr. Holland the elder told me -of one poor gipsy woman, who, through her unfaithfulness and bad conduct, -had come to an untimely end, so much so that it was with much difficulty -and risk her rotten remains were placed in a coffin. Sad to say, her -sins were not buried with her. Her family carry the marks upon them. -After chatting about all sorts of things and old times, with the -Leicestershire gipsies from Barlestone and Barwell, I turned in with some -gipsy Smiths from Gloucestershire, whose van and tents were on the other -side of the “grand stand.” I found that in three of the vans there were -twenty-one children of various sizes and ages, and nine men and women -sleeping and huddling together in wretchedness. One of the gipsy women -told me that she had had “nineteen children all born alive.” As they sat -round the fire upon the grass, I began to give them some cards, and while -I was doing so, one of the men, Reservoir Smith, broke out in language -not very elevating, and said among other things, “What use are picture -cards to either the children or us; there is not one in the whole bunch -that can tell a letter; and as for saying prayers, they do not know what -it is and where to begin. We cannot pray ourselves, much less teach our -children. Who are we to pray to? Parsons pray, and not we poor folks.” -A gipsy woman must needs have her say in the matter, and said as follows, -“Do not mind what he says master, if you will give me some of the cards -we will have them framed; they will do to look at if we cannot read -them.” At this they clustered round me—men, women and children; and I -distributed cards and pence to the little ones as far as my stock would -allow, with which all were delighted. - -In the midst of this large group of idle men and women, ragged, dirty, -unkempt, and ignorant children with matted hair, there were two of the -Smith damsels—say, of about eighteen or twenty years—dressed in all the -gay and lively colours imaginable, whose business was not to attend to -the cocoa-nut “set outs,” but to wheedle their way with gipsy fascination -amongst the crowd of race-goers, to gain “coppers” in all sorts of -questionable ways of those “greenhorns” who choose to listen to their -“witching” tales of gipsydom. Their “lurchers” and “snap” dogs came and -smelt at my pantaloons, and skulked away with their tails between their -legs. - -Upon the course there were over thirty adult gipsies, and nearly forty -children living in tents and vans, and connected in one way or other with -the gipsy Smiths, Greens, Hollands, Stanleys, and Claytons, not one of -whom—excepting one Stanley—could read and write a simple sentence out of -any book, and attended neither a place of worship nor any Sunday or day -school. When I explained to them the plan I proposed for registering -their vans, and bringing the children within reach of the schoolmaster, -they one and all agreed to it without any hesitation, and said as -follows, that “it would be the best thing in the world, and unitedly -expressed more than once, ‘Thank you, sir,’ ‘Thank you, sir.’” - -Rain was now coming down, and the races were about to commence; therefore -my gipsy congregation had begun to find its way to the various cocoa-nut -establishments to begin business in earnest. With this exodus going on -around me, and in the midst of oaths, swearing, betting, banging, -cheating, lying, shouting, and thrashing, I turned quickly into Alfred -Clayton’s van to have a friendly chat with him with “closed doors.” The -conversation I had with him earlier in the afternoon led me to think that -some kind of influence had been at work with him that one does not see in -a thousand times among gipsies. Evidently a softening process had taken -hold of him which I wanted to hear more about. With his wife and another -gipsy friend in charge of his cocoa-nut business, we closed the door of -the van, and he began his tale in answer to my questions. I asked him -whether they had always been gipsies. To which he answered as follows: -“My grandfather was a ‘stockiner’ at Barlestone, and lived in a cottage -there; but in course of time he began to do a little hawking, first out -of a basket round the villages, and then in a cart round the country. He -then took to a van; and the same thing may be said of the Claytons. -Originally they were ‘stockiners’ at Barwell, a village close to -Barlestone, and began to travel as my grandfather and father had done. -Thus you will see that the two families of gipsies, Claytons and -Hollands, are mixed up pretty much. My father is, as you know, a -Holland, and my mother a Clayton, whose name I take. At the present -time, out of the original family of Hollands at Barlestone, and the -original family of Claytons at Barwell, there are seven families of -Hollands travelling the country at the present time, and fifteen families -of Claytons travelling in various parts of Staffordshire and other -places.” From the original two families it will be seen that there are -over a hundred and fifty men, women, and children who have taken to -gipsying within the last fifty years, not half a dozen of whom can read -and write, with all the attendant consequences of this kind of a vagabond -rambling life; which the more we look into, it is plain that Christianity -and civilization, as we have put them forth to reclaim those of our own -brothers and sisters near home, have proved a failure, not on account of -the blessed influences of themselves being not powerful enough, but in -the lack of the application of them to the gipsies by those who profess -to have received those world-moving principles in their hearts. In the -midst of this dark mass of human beings moving to and fro upon our lovely -England, one little cheering ray is to be seen. Alfred Clayton tells us -this. When he was staying at Leicester with his van some three years -since, he stole like a thief in the night into the “Salvation Warehouse” -at the bottom of Belgrave Gate, and while he was there an influence -penetrated through the hardened coats of ignorance and crime, and the -ramification of sin in all its worst shape to the depth of his heart, and -awakened a chord of sympathy in his nature which has not died out, or -wholly left him to this day. “Jesus the name high over all” caused him -to open his ears in a manner they had never been opened before, and -wonder what it all meant. This visit to the “Salvation warehouse” was -not lost upon him, or without its effects upon his conduct. One cold -wintry day, some two years ago, he was staying with his wife and family -in this van on the roadside between Atherstone and Hinckley, when a -youth, apparently about eighteen years old, came limping along the road, -dressed in what had once been a fashionable suit of clothes, but now was -little better than rags. His face was thin and pale, and his fingers -long, and his neck bare. Upon his feet were two odd old worn-out shoes, -and without stockings upon his legs; and as the forlorn youth neared the -van and its occupants at dusk, he said, “Will you please give me a bit of -bread, for I feel very hungry.” Clayton said, without much inquiry and -hesitation, “Come into the van and warm yourself,” and while the youth -was doing so, they got ready a crust of bread and cheese and some tea, -which were devoured ravenously. Clayton learned that the stranger was -related to one of the leading manufacturers named at Leicester, and well -known as being rich; but unfortunately for the poor youth, his father -died, and his stepmother had sold everything and cleared away to America, -leaving this well-educated lad without any money, or means of earning -money, to grapple with the world and its difficulties for a livelihood as -best he could. Clayton, in the kindness of his heart, took the youth -into the van, and he travelled up and down the country with them as one -of their own during the space of two years, when owing to “his being a -gentleman,” and a “capital scollard,” he was helpful to the gipsy family -in more ways than one. After the two years’ gipsying spent by the youth -with his kind friends the Claytons in rambling about the country, some -kind friends at Atherstone took pity on him, and he is there to-day, -gradually working his position back into civilized society, and a -respectable member of the community, notwithstanding the treatment he has -received at the hands of his cruel stepmother. After the meeting at the -“Salvation Warehouse” Clayton had been seen and heard more than once, -checking swearing and other sins so common to gipsies; but had never -finally decided to leave gipsying and begin a better life until last -Christmas. The steps which led up to his “great resolve,” he related to -me as follows: “Mr. Smith, you must know that I have been about as bad a -man as could be found anywhere. I felt at times, through drink and other -things, that I would as soon murder somebody as I would eat my supper; in -fact, I didn’t care what I did; and things went on in this way till my -little girl, about three years old, and who I loved to the bottom of my -heart, was taken ill and died. She had such bright eyes, a lovely face, -and curls upon her head. She was my darling pet, and always met me with -a smile; but she died and lies buried in Polesworth churchyard.” At this -Clayton burst into crying and sobbing like a child. “I vowed,” said -Clayton, “on the day, at the side of the grave, she, my poor darling, was -buried, that I would not touch drink for a month, and do you know, Mr. -Smith of Coalville, when the month was gone, I did not feel to crave for -drink any more, and I have not had any up till now.” He now dried his -eyes, and his face brightened up with a smile, and I said to him in the -van, “Let us kneel down and thank God for helping you to make this -resolution, and for grace to help you to keep it.” In the midst of the -hum, shouting, and swearing of the races, we shut the door of the van; -and after we had got off our knees, he knelt down again and again, and -began to pray, with tears in his eyes, as follows:— - -“O Lord Jesus, Thou knowest that I have been a bad sinner. O God, thou -knowest I have been very wicked in many ways, and done many things I -should not have done; but Thou hast told me to come to Thee and Thou wilt -forgive me. Do my God forgive me for all the wrong I have done, and help -me to be a better man, and never touch drink again any more, for Thou -knowest it has been my ruin. Help me to live a good life, so that I may -meet my little darling in heaven, who lies in Polesworth churchyard. Do, -O Lord, bless my wife and my other little children, and make them all -good. Oh do, my heavenly Father help my mother to give over swearing and -bad things. Thou canst do it. Do Thou bless my father, and my brothers, -and all my relations, and Mr. Smith in his work, and for being so good to -us, so that we may all meet in heaven, for Jesus Christ’s sake. Amen. - -“Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name, Thy kingdom come, -Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily -bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass -against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. -For Thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, for ever and ever. -Amen.” - -After Clayton had dried his eyes we got up, to behold, over the top of -the bottom half of his van door, the riders, dressed in red, scarlet, -yellow, green, blue, crimson, and orange, with a deep _black shade_ to be -seen _underneath_, galloping to hell with hordes of gamblers at their -heels as fast as their poor, cruelly treated steeds could carry them, all -leaving footprints behind them for young beginners to follow. I said to -Clayton, “Are you not tired of this kind of life?” And he said he was. -“It is no good for anybody,” said Clayton, “and I am going to leave it. -This is my last day with the ‘cocoa-nuts.’ I shall start in the -morning—Saturday—for Coventry and Atherstone, where I mean to settle down -and bring my children up like other folks. I have taken a house and am -going to furnish it, and a gentleman is going to give me a chance of -learning a trade, for which I thank God.” - -As the shouts of the hell-bound multitude were dying away, and the gains -and losses reckoned up, Clayton’s three little gipsy children, with their -lovely features, curls, and bright blue eyes, came toddling up the steps -to the van door, calling out, “Dad, let us in; dad, let us in.” The door -was opened, and the little dears comfortably seated by our side. I gave -them a few pictures, some coppers, stroked their hair, and “chucked their -chin,” and bade them good-bye in the midst of a shower of rain, to meet -again some day with the bright sun shining overhead and a clear sky -without a cloud to be seen anywhere. For the present I must say with -John Harris in his _Wayside Pictures_— - - “Where Thou leadest it is best; - Cheer me with the thought of rest, - Till I gain the upper shore, - And my _tent_ is struck no more.” - - - - -Rambles among the Gipsies at Boughton Green Fair. - - -I HAD heard much and often about the Boughton Green Fair, and the vast -number of gipsies, semi-gipsies, and other tramps, scamps, vagabonds, -hawkers, farmers, tradesmen, the fast and loose, riff-raff and -respectable, gathered together from all quarters once a year upon this -ancient Green for a “fairing.” Tradesmen and farmers exhibited their -wares, live stock, and implements of husbandry; and others set forth -their articles of torture, things of fashion, painted faces, -“tomfoolery,” and “bosh,” to those who like to tramp thither in sunshine -and storm with plenty of money in their pockets for revel and debauch. - -Bidding the sparrows, linnets, swallows, and wagtails, fluttering and -darting round our dwelling, good-bye as they were hopping, chirping, -twittering, and gathering a variety of materials upon which to build -their nests; and with my little folks at the door, I wended my way to the -station. - - “Then he kissed his olive branches, - Bade his wife good-bye, - And said, . . . - ‘Heaven preserve you all!’” - - _Wayside Pictures_ (HARRIS). - -The sun was shining warmly, the roads dusty, and a few red faces covered -with perspiration were to be seen panting along. Many of the men were -dressed in black cloth, a little faded, of the “cut” and fashion out of -date many years ago. Some had their coats hung upon their arm, with -white shirt sleeves and heavy boots everywhere visible. Most fairly -well-to-do farm labourers have for Sundays and mourning days a black -suit, which lasts them for many years. In some instances the father’s -black clothes become family “heirlooms”—at any rate, for a time—and then, -when the father dies, they are turned into garments for the little -children. Of course the father’s “black silk furred hat” cannot be made -less, and to pad it to make it fit little Johnny’s head is an awkward -process. I have seen many _little boys_ with big hats upon their heads -in my time. I suppose they have imagined that people would infer that -they had big heads under the hats with plenty of brain power. This is a -mistake. Big hats, with little brain and less common sense, and No. 10 -rather high, often go together. Upon the road would be “Our Sal” with -her “chap,” and his brother Jim, yawning, shouting, and gaping along, -and, as my friends the boatmen would say, “a little beerish.” Some of -the country labouring girls would have their shawls upon their arms, and -they would be stalking along in their strong boots at the rate of four -miles an hour, frolicking and screaming as Bill Sands, Jack Jiggers, Joe -Straw, Matt Twist, and Ben Feeder jostled against them. They seemed to -delight in showing the tops of their boots, with crumpled and overhanging -stockings. There were other occupants of the road trudging limpingly -after the cows, sheep, horses, donkeys, and mules, called “tramps” and -“drovers,” who seemed to be, and really are, the “cast-offs” of society. -These poor mortals were, as a rule, either as thin as herrings or as -bloated as pigs, with faces red with beer-barrel paint; and they wore -gentlemen’s “cast-off” clothing in the last stages of consumption, with -rags flying in the wind. Their once high-heeled boots were nearly upside -down, while dirty toes, patches, and rag-stuffing were everywhere -visible. - -In the train there was the usual jostle, bustle, and crush, and gossip. -At Northampton station there was no little commotion, owing to the -station-master having closed the station-yard against all cabs except -those who ply regularly between the station and the town. - -One cabman came to me and said that he would take me to the Green for a -less fare than he charged others if I would get into his cab the first. -I asked him his reason. “Because,” he said, “if you get in first others -will follow, and I shall soon have a load.” I could not see the force of -his argument, and found my way to another cab. I had no sooner seated -myself than the cabman took off, or hid, his number. I asked him why he -did that. His answer was, “So that if I drive fast the Bobbies shan’t -catch the sight of my number. If they get my number and I am caught -driving fast there will be either thirty ‘bob’ for me to pay, or I shall -have to go to ‘quad’ for a fortnight.” - -Some of the poor horses attached to the vehicles—cabs, waggonettes, -carriers carts, carriages—were heavily laden with human beings, till they -could scarcely crawl. Uphill, down dale, slashing, dashing, banging, -whipping, kicking, and shouting seemed to be the order of the day; and on -this vast mass of human and animal life poured—and myself among the -crowd—till I found we were fairly among the gipsies upon the Green. - -Having partaken of a starvation lunch in one of the booths, consisting of -“reecy” fat ham, with a greasy knife and fork, dried bread and lettuce, -served upon plates not over clean, and studded and painted with patches -of mustard left by a former customer, and with warm ginger-beer as tame -as skim milk to take the place of champagne, I began to take stock of the -Green, which natural formation, together with those made apparently -hundreds of years ago, seemed to excite my first attention. - -The large circular holes, of about thirty feet diameter and one foot -below the level of the surrounding ground, reminded me very much of -ancient gipsy encampments. Boughton Green has been a favourite annual -camping ground for generations, and may to-day be considered as the -fluctuating capital of gipsydom in the Midlands, where the gipsies from -all the Midland and many other counties do annually congregate to fight, -quarrel, brawl, pray, sing, rob, steal, cheat, and, in past times, -murder. - -According to Wetton’s “Guide to Northamptonshire,” published some -fifty-six years ago, it seems probable that the fair was formerly set out -in canvas streets, after the manner of a maze, shepherd’s-race, or -labyrinth; and as Boughton Green was close to a Roman station, this seems -probable. This was the custom of the Roman fairs held close to their -stations. This much seems to be inferred from Baker’s “History of -Northamptonshire,” where he says, “The stretching canvas forms the gaudy -streets.” - -In the _Northampton Mercury_, June 5, 1721, the following advertisement -appears: “The Right Hon. the Earl of Strafford has been pleased to give a -bat, value one guinea, to be played for on Monday at cudgels, and another -of the same price; and also 6 pairs of buckskin gloves at 5s. a pair, to -be wrestled for on Tuesday; and a silver cup of the value of 5 guineas -price to be run for on Wednesday by maiden galloways not exceeding 14 -hands high, during the time of Boughton Fair. The ladies of the better -rank to meet to raffle, see the shows, and then to adjourn to a ball at -the Red Lion Inn, Northampton, in the evening.” - -In Baker’s “History of Northamptonshire” the following poem appears -relative to the fair— - - “From every part stretched o’er the sultry way, - The labouring team the various stores convey. - Vessels of wood and brass, all bright and new, - In merry mixture rise upon the view. - See! pots capacious lesser pots entomb, - And hogsheads barrels gorge for want of room; - From their broad base part in each other hid - The lessening tubs shoot up like a pyramid. - Pitchforks and axes and the deepening spade - Beneath the pressing load are harmless laid; - Whilst out behind, where pliant poles prevail, - The merry waggon seems to wag her tail.” - -Looked at from rising ground, far in the distance and with a keen sense -for the picturesque and romantic, the moral and physical aspects of -nature, and love of liberty, which gipsy life presents to those few -unacquainted with its dark, degrading side—thank God, only a few—are food -for admiration and wonder; to others the objects of pity and suggestive -reflection. There can be no doubt that Cowper, the immortal poet, who -lived at Olney, a few miles from Boughton Green and Higham Ferrers, as he -was wont to take his daily walks, would often cross the path of the -Northamptonshire gipsies. Sometimes there would accompany him his two -lady friends who were jealous of each other’s influence—Lady Austin and -Mrs. Unwin. Occasionally Lady Hesketh and some of the Throckmortons -would be the cheerful companions in his despondency and gloom, and at -other times he would sally forth single-handed in quest of food for his -hares and leverets, in silent meditation upon the grand and beautiful -surroundings. It is more than probable that while he saw from the -beautiful elevation, a few miles outside Olney and Weston, the grey smoke -rising from the gipsy encampment in the distance silently and quietly -whirling, twirling, and ascending among the trees, to be lost among the -daisies and hedgerows, the muses danced before him and brought forth the -truthful, characteristic poem relating to gipsies— - - “I see a column of slow rising smoke - O’ertop the lofty wood that skirts the wild. - A vagabond and useless tribe there eat - Their miserable meal. A kettle - Slung between two poles, upon a stick transverse - Receives the morsel; flesh _obscene_ hog - Or vermin; or at best of cock purloined - From his accustomed perch. Hard-faring race - They pick their fuel out of every hedge - Which, kindled with dry leaves and wood, just saves - The spark of life. The sportive wind blows wide - Their fluttering rags, and shows a tawny skin - The vellum of the pedigree they claim.” - -The publication of this poem, and the fact that large numbers of gipsy -tramps were flitting about the country, with their wretched equipages, -may have been the means of stirring the kind hearts of Smith, Crabb, -Hoyland, William Allen, of Higham Ferrers, solicitor, and steward to Earl -Fitzwilliam, and many others, some eighty or one hundred years ago, to -try to reclaim the gipsies from their debasing habits and customs. - -It has generally been supposed that the term “green,” given to the land -upon which the annual fair is held, comes to us at this date on account -of its greensward. This is an error. According to Baker’s and other -histories of Northamptonshire, Boughton Green derives its name and title -as follows. “In the time of Edward I., William de Nutricilla, abbot of -St. Wandegisile, conveyed the lands to John de Boketon or Boughton, from -whom they descended to Sir Thomas de Boketon his grandson, and who was -succeeded by Sir Henry Green his son and heir, who was Lord Chief Justice -of England.” Thus we see the probability of it being called at this -ancient date, on account of the close relationship existing between the -Boketon or Boughton and Green, Boughton and Green’s wake or fair. In -course of time the “and” has been dropped, and we have now “Boughton -Green fair.” - -“Sir Henry Green obtained a grant or charter, dated 28th February, 1351 -(25 of Edward III.), for an annual fair to be held on the manor for the -space of three days, beginning with the vigil of the nativity of St. John -the Baptist (June 23rd), and ending the day after it.” This being so, -the adding of “green” to the fair can be easily accounted for. The site -upon which the fair is held is seventeen acres. - -Outside, and at the east end of the fair grounds, stands the remains of -what was once, no doubt, a fine old Gothic church, dedicated then, as the -new church in the village is now, to St. John the Baptist. The tower and -spire of the old church fell about a century ago upon a gipsy Smith and -his wife, whose sleeping quarters—instead of the gipsy tent—had been for -some time beneath its crumbling ruins. The old villagers will tell you, -with pride and pleasure upon their faces, that Boughton old church was, -before Cromwell destroyed it, one of the seven oldest churches in -England. Of course, this is a subject upon which I do not feel to be -“master of the situation.” Such was the odium attached to gipsies a -century ago, that it was not thought worthwhile to dig them out from -beneath the mass of ruins that had fallen upon them; and from the time -when the tower and spire fell, to the time when the crumbling refuse was -cleared away a few years since, the bones of poor gipsy Smith and his -wife had crumbled into dust and been scattered to the winds. It touches -a tender and sympathetic chord, and draws forth a scalding tear down -one’s face when one ponders over the many evenings the old gipsy couple -had enjoyed their frugal meal—maybe of hedgehogs and snails, or the piece -of a decaying pig—beneath the belfry, when the bells were pealing forth, -soft and low, as the shades of evening were gathering round them, and -they were preparing to rest their aimless and useless bones upon the -straw in their dark, at times musical, and at other times dismal, abode -among the dead. The churchyard and burial ground round the old church is -well fenced in, and kept in beautiful order. Several gipsies are buried -in the churchyard; but there is no stone to mark the exact spot. They -are pretty close to each other, so I am told, at the east end of the -church. - -Close to the churchyard there is a spring of excellent water, called St. -John’s Spring. So highly did our forefathers value it, that it was -preserved specially as a rippling little fountain for supplying water for -the holy rite of baptism. When I saw it, gipsies, tramps, show people, -vagabonds, and all kinds of dirty and clean travellers, with their -wretched companions, steeds, and poor bony beasts of burden, were -quenching their thirst at this living stream, forcing its way out of the -hillside. It seemed, as I stood by, looking at the pails put under its -mouth for a filling, to force its way faster, and with greater gusto, -delight, and pleasure into the dirty pails, owned by dirty hands and -dirtier faces, whose filthy bodies were covered with stinking rags, than -into clean pails carried by white hands and lovely smiling faces peering -over them. One little dirty urchin put his mouth under it for “a drink.” -No sooner was this done, than the holy spring covered his unholy dirty -face with more clear water than he wanted, some of which found its way -down his bosom and into his breeches; at this he “sobbed,” and sobbed -right out that I could not help laughing. He turned up his piebald -watery face as if in anger at my laughing at him. I said to him, “What -is the matter with you?” “No—no—no—no—nought is the matter wi me. It’s -co—co—co—cold, and you woodner laugh if you were like me. It’s wet my -belly.” - -The little fellow for once received a washing, contrary, no doubt, to his -wish. After he had dried his face with the ragged remains of a dirty -sleeve, he found his way back to the green—I expect his mother would -scarcely know him—and I went for a stroll down “Spectacle Lane,” where -gipsies formerly tented and camped in large numbers. - -Down this pretty country lane there was a pleasant recess, a little -higher than the road, under the trees, evidently formed by the gipsies on -purpose to have their “tents high and dry.” Several tents could be -nicely sheltered and partly secluded under the trees in each recess. -Water and game would be plentiful in these lanes a century ago; in fact, -I should imagine such was the case now. - -At the bottom of “Spectacle Lane” stood a large, fine, old Gothic -archway, called by the inhabitants in the neighbourhood “Spectacle -Tower.” The object and purpose for which it was built has never been -clearly made out. Judging from all the surrounding circumstances, it -appeared to me that it had at one time been intended as a gateway to a -mansion, abbey, or nunnery which has not been built; or, what is still -more probable, it may have been erected as a flag-tower for Fairfax’s -army on its way from Oxford through Northampton to the battle of Naseby, -and from thence to Leicester. Prince Rupert had gone as far as Daventry -to meet General Fairfax and his army, expecting, of course, that they -would come by Daventry; instead of which Fairfax left Daventry to the -left, and pushed on his way through Northampton and to Boughton Green, -hoping to arrive in Leicester before Prince Rupert and the King. Fairfax -may have expected that the memorable battle would have been fought in the -neighbourhood of Boughton; if so, he, at any rate, reckoned without his -host, as both armies came together at Naseby, and with what result any -schoolboy knows. - -Report says that Boughton Green church was razed to the ground by -Cromwell’s army. - -The fact of gipsies flocking to this, which was once a fine old Roman -Catholic church, and nestling in tents under its shadows, together with -the fact that old, monastic-looking farm-houses are to be seen in the -neighbourhood, confirms the idea I set forth in my “Gipsy Life,” p. 146, -viz., that on the gipsies landing in Scotland, about the year 1514, from -the continent, some of them hypocritically professed the Roman Catholic -faith in order to inveigle themselves into the good graces of the -nobility, so that their pockets and pouches might be filled with as -little trouble as possible; in fact, righteous gipsy Smith having come -from India, he knew well, and does so still, how to turn religious -sentiment to advantage, and hence he landed in Scotland from France as -above instead of Dover and London, and wended his way through the Midland -counties and southward; and hence we find Northamptonshire, in times -later on, a central camping ground for these lawless tribes of aimless -vagabonds. - -About a century ago a number of gipsies were brought before the -magistrates at Northampton; upon what charge has not been stated. This -so enraged the gipsies upon Boughton Green and other parts of -Northamptonshire, that they threatened to set fire to the town of -Northampton. The end of it was that several of the gipsies, for their -riotous conduct, forfeited their lives upon the gallows. See “Gipsy -Life,” p. 154. - -To come back to Boughton Green fair. After having wandered about -“Spectacle Lane” I called upon a gentleman, Mr. Jeys, who has resided for -many years close to the green, and he told me that he has seen as many as -forty to fifty tents and vans of gipsies camping in the lanes near to his -house. It was down this lane that small-pox raged among the gipsies. -Righteous Smith, with his two wives, Constant and Comfort, and a number -of their twenty children, died of small-pox. Births, deaths, and murders -have taken place upon the green. How many nobody knows, nor can any idea -be formed of the number. Mr. Jeys told me of one case, being a gipsy -row, ending in murder. Who had done it no one could tell, and where the -gipsy was buried was a mystery. They hunted and searched, but, like the -body of the Earl of Crauford and Balcarres, it could not be found, until -Mr. Jeys’ gardener came across it in the garden. When the body of the -gipsy was found it was laid straight out between two flag stones reared -edgewise, and a large flagstone as a covering. The arms were folded, and -upon the breast of the gipsy there was a pair of scissors, which had been -carefully placed there by those who had buried the gipsy in the dark; for -what purpose I cannot make out. Gipsies have queer notions about the -death and burial of those belonging to them. The old-fashioned gipsies -of bygone days, more than they do now, paid special regard to the dead, -and on this account they carried the dead body of the gipsy nearly half a -mile to bury it in a gentleman’s garden. The murdered gipsy in his -lifetime was, no doubt, a scissor-grinder, and the placing of the -scissors upon his breast was to remind them when he got to the other -country of what trade the gipsy was—_i.e._, if skulking about the country -with an old barrow grinding a few knives and scissors can be called a -trade. - -A few years since a gentleman farmer belonging to the neighbourhood was -murdered upon the green, by whom it has never been found out. All sorts -of conjectures, suspicions, and surmises have taken place upon the -matter. Some say the gipsies did it; others say that some of the -unfortunate class had a hand in the sad affair. At any rate he was found -early next morning with his mouth crammed full of dust; his pockets were -empty, and his soul had gone into the unknown world. His name is -engraved upon the trunk of a tree close to the spot, which, owing to the -growth of the tree and the hand of time, is fast disappearing. The -greensward of Boughton Green is not a bed of roses; but, on the contrary, -I am afraid, those who have met their last enemy upon this battleground -of scamps have found it full of thorns—for such it has been to those who -have been murdered or met with death in doubtful company. - -At the fair held in 1826, George Catherall, of Bolton, who was known as -Captain Slash, formed a large gang of about a hundred roughs—of whom it -was composed, young or old, it has not been stated, or whether any, and -how many of them, were gipsies—to rob and murder all upon the green on -the night of June 28th who would not “turn it up.” They formed -themselves, after being well primed with beer, into lines like soldiers, -and on they went to do their murderous, Satanic work, calling cut, “Blood -or money!” While they were carrying out their murderous designs, Captain -Slash would frequently cry out, “Now, my lads, form yourselves into line -soldier-like. Blood or money is what we want and what we shall have.” -Many of those who had retired for the night under canvas, or under their -stalls, were beaten, kicked, and not a few were rendered insensible. -There were no policemen in those days, and it was fortunate that a body -of shoemakers from Moulton were close at hand, or there would have been a -larger number of the hawkers and stall-keepers murdered, there is no -doubt. The Moulton shoemakers gave Slash and his gang what they did not -expect. Daybreak showed what a murderous night had been spent upon the -green. Blood, bludgeons, sticks, broken glass, tables, stools, were to -be seen lying in all directions. The money taken at the fair was hid in -all sorts of ways. The wife of a publican ran with her money all the way -to Northampton in her night-dress. A hawker of scythe-stones and -whetstones told me that he helped his father to put the money they had -taken during the fair under their cart-wheels. Others dug holes into the -turf with their knives; others hid their money in the hedge-bottom. -Scores were scampering about in their night-dresses in all directions, -with their hair on end, and almost frightened out of their senses, like -stark mad folks. The children nestling for the night under the carts, -tents, and in the booths, screeched and screamed about in the dark upon -the grass half naked, like a lot of young rabbits when the weasels have -been at their heels, horrible enough to frighten devils wild. The few -old folks visiting the fair every year who can remember the sad scene -talk of it at the present time with almost breathless silence. Some of -them said to me, “If we were to live a thousand years we should never -forget it.” Captain Slash was taken the next day to Northampton, and in -the end he was hung upon the new drop. Accounts differ as to how he met -his end. Some say that he died in sorrow and penitence. One gentleman -named F— told me that he was not far from him when he was hanged, and -walked close beside him on his way to the gallows. While jogging along -on the top of a cart Slash seemed quite jovial, and as merry as if going -to a wedding. He remarked that his mother had said to him more than once -that “he would die with his boots on,” but he would make her a liar for -once; and just before the fatal bolt was drawn he kicked his boots off -among the crowd, and one of them hit a woman who stood next to my friend -in the face and disfigured it. After this startling scene his nerves -gave way, and he dropped tremblingly into eternity. To-day the skeleton -of Captain Slash is to be seen in an asylum at Northampton as a warning -to all wrongdoers. One or two of his gang were transported, some cleared -out of the country, and the others got off “scot-free.” - -The associations of bygone days of Boughton Green being disposed of, I -now began to ramble among the gipsies and others upon the green. I had -not gone far before I saw at the back of one of the vans a dirty, -greasy-looking tramp of a fellow, with an apron on that might have been -washed in boiling tallow and dried in smoke. In a large kettle before -him there was a quantity of thick yellow stuff—what it was composed of, -or how and by what means it was coloured, I could not tell—and by his -side, in an old basket, there were pieces of almost rotten fish casting -forth a sickly odour; and over a fire upon the ground there was an old -frying-pan partly full of hot grease. I was puzzled to know what this -was for, and what it all meant. I had not been puzzling long before I -saw the greasy tramp taking pieces of the fish out of his basket and dip -them into the thick yellow liquid; he then threw them into the pan upon -the fire, whereupon a crackling noise commenced. After turning and -twisting the pieces of fish about in the pan for some time, sometimes -with his fingers and at other times with a stick, they were “browned” in -order to be palatable to “greenhorns;” and as they were “cooked” he took -them out of the pan and put them into a basket, and sallied forth among -the throng and crush of “Johnnies,” calling out “Fine fish, fried and all -hot! Fried fish, all hot.” A crowd soon gathered round him, and with a -plentiful supply of pepper and vinegar he began business in earnest. -Well-dressed farmers, shoemakers, men, youths, girls, and maidens of -almost every grade clustered round him, and the eagerness with which they -clutched and enjoyed the fried fish, bones, and vinegar would have formed -a subject worthy of my friend Herbert Johnson, or W. H. Overend, the -artists of the “Graphic” and “Illustrated London News.” “Smack” went -their lips, and I turned away disgusted at the thought and sight at -having found so many simple, gullible beings in the world, standing ready -with open mouths to swallow the greasy morsels of dirty tramps. It is -pleasing to note that all those who live by frying fish, and also those -who live by eating it, are not of this stamp. - -After strolling about for some time I turned among some of my old -friends, Jack, Jim, Bill, Sal, Righteous, Piety, and Zachriali, gipsies -of the cocoa-nut tribes engaged at cocoa-nut shying. All did not profess -to be so low down in the social scale as the gipsies. Poor “Pea-soup -Sal,” with a reddish face, who had imbibed a little too much from the -beer barrel, and whose legs were not over-strong, particularly objected -to being classed with the gipsies; in fact, as she propped herself up by -the side of her box of cocoa-nut balls, she turned up her nose, curled -her lip, and staggered at the idea of such “respectable people as they -wer-wer-wer-were being rec-rec-rec-reckoned with the gip-gip-gip-gipsies. -They are a ba-ba-ba-ba-bad lot.” Poor Sal was now overcome, and fell to -the ground. For once in her life she was at any rate level with those -gipsies who were squatting upon the floor. Her husband, who seemed to be -a common-sense sort of a man, and apparently fairly educated, came to her -relief. If he had not done so, I would not have given much for the -cocoa-nuts, and less still for poor unfortunate Sal. - -At times, when business was slack, I entered lengthily into conversation -with him as to what had been the cause of his getting into such a -degrading position. - -I learned from him that both he and his wife had received a good -education. The man by trade was a carpenter, and the woman a dressmaker; -but in an evil hour, instead of trusting to their own abilities, work, -and common sense, they had taken the wrong turning, and from that time to -the present they had been going down hill, and they could not tell how. -All they seemed to realize was that they thought they were nearly at the -bottom. Both have relations well off in the world; and both have the -respect for their family not to disgrace it by vaunting their condition -before the world, and making it known to their friends—only to a -privileged _few_—the disgraceful social condition to which they had -brought themselves. It is something heartrending, past description, to -see a good tradesman and his dressmaking wife fooling their time away in -idleness, wickedness, and sin, tramping the country, gambling with -cocoa-nuts, living in vans, eating garbage, and trafficking in poor -worn-out old horses and donkeys. - -I found in further conversation with this unfortunate couple that gipsies -have invented fresh machinations to kill farmers’ pigs, viz., to take the -inside of an apple out and fill it with mustard; and as the women or -children are going up to the farm-houses some of the apples stuffed with -mustard are thrown among the pigs—pigs are fond of apples—and the -consequence is the large quantity of mustard in the apple suffocates the -pigs, and nobody, except the gipsies, know how it has been done. Some -other members of the gang will visit the farm-house during the next day -or two, under the pretext of buying up old dead carcases, out of which to -render all the fat to make cart grease. The farmer replies, “Oh yes, we -had a pig,”—or a cow, as the case may be—“died yesterday. You can have -that for five shillings if you like to dig it. You will find it in the -meadow next to the piggery.” “All right, guvernor, here’s the money.” -Of course the gipsies fetch it, and it forms a relish for them for a long -time. I have known of cases where the pig has been buried for five days, -being unearthed, and turned into food for the big and little gipsies. - -Mr. T— also told me how cows, calves, and bullocks are treated by the -gipsies—the consequence is they are found dead the next morning in the -fields—viz., two or three of the men will take a handful of hay and a -rope, and when they have caught the cow, they will make it secure, and -then the hay is forced into its throat, and a rope tied and twisted -tightly round its mouth. When suffocation has completed its work, the -hay is drawn out of its throat, and the nostrils are wiped clean. The -gipsies then set off to their camp again. In a couple of days or so, -according to a pre-arranged plan, some of the gang call upon the farmers -to buy any dead cattle or pigs they may have to sell, and the result is, -as in the case of the pigs suffocated with the mustard in the apples, the -cow, calf, or bullock is taken to their tents or vans, perhaps a few -miles away, and divided among the gipsies. - -Some of the gipsies get a living by selling cart grease, which they say -is pure fat, but which in reality is made up principally of potatoes, -yellow turnips, and grease. - -The gipsies have found out that “shot” is not so good to cure a -broken-winded horse for one day only, as butter or lard—butter is -preferable. The way they do it is to let the horse fast overnight, and -then early next morning force a pound of butter down its throat. To cure -a “roarer” a pint of oil is given overnight upon an empty stomach. - -The earnings of cocoa-nut gamblers and others of the same class vary very -much. Mr. T— told me that he and his wife went upon Northampton -racecourse last races with only five shillings in their pockets, with -which they bought some acids, juices, and scents; these, with plenty of -water, they turned into “pine-apple champagne,” and the result was they -made five pounds profit, and plenty to eat and drink, with a -“jollification” into the bargain, the whole of which was spent in a -fortnight, and they had to commence again, sadder but no wiser. - -It is an error to say that gipsies do not rob each other; some of them -have told me that they have been robbed fearfully by other gipsies, -sometimes of as many as a hundred cocoa-nuts at a time. - -While our conversation was going on some silly beings were knocking their -heads against a boss, for which honour they paid their pennies. What a -satire upon the fair, I thought. Thousands were running their heads -against bosses more deadly in effect than the spring bosses at which they -ran like fighting rams. I was not much afraid of the heads of the -bossers giving way, my only fear was for their necks. - -Behind me there was to be seen another crowd shooting at glass bottles in -the air. These might be said to be “windy customers,” and as a rule they -were full of “gas,” bombast, thin and showy; while those who faced the -“boss” were thick-necked, with plenty of animalism about them, and ready -for a row. - -I did not see many gaudily and showily dressed gipsy girls at the fair, -but I saw a large number of gipsy girls dressed as “farming girls,” -“farmers’ daughters,” and servants, at work among the easy-going chaps. -Some of the girls—or, I should say, women—held the hands of the “silly” -in their hands, and they were pleasantly looking at the lucky lines with -one eye, and bewitchingly into their faces with the other, while they -told the geese their fortunes, and the pleasures and troubles they would -have on account of “dark ladies” and “fair ladies,” against whom they -were to be on their guard, or they would not marry the one they loved. -In some cases “dark gentlemen” were trying to steal the affections of -their young lady. As a rule gipsies prognosticate evil from “fair -ladies” or “fair gentlemen.” Of course it would not do to be too heavy -upon the “dark gentlemen” or “dark ladies.” A number of “shoe girls” -were having their fortunes told also. - -One of the gipsies had offended a man close to me from some cause or -other, which had the effect of exasperating the “beery” man to such an -extent that he bawled out, “You might rake hell out and scratch among the -cinders, and you would not find a worse lot than gipsies.” “Hold, hold,” -I said; “many of them are bad, at the same time you will find some -good-hearted folks among them, a few of whom I know.” I now turned and -had a long conversation with a gipsy from Kent, and the good woman with -her husband both fell in with my idea of getting the gipsy children -educated by means of a free pass book, and of having their vans -registered. Although busy with the evening meal, it did not prevent her -entering heartily and pleasantly into my plans for effecting an -improvement in the condition of the gipsies and their children, and more -than once, surrounded as she was with everything the opposite of -heavenly, said, “Thank you, sir, thank you, sir; and may God bless you -for your efforts to improve the gipsies.” I told her that all the -gipsies were not so kindly disposed as to wish me success. “Never mind -them, sir; all the right-thinking gipsies will say so.” “You have spoken -the truth,” I said; “before you can apply a remedy to a festering sore -the proper thing to do is to probe it to the bottom, and this I have been -trying for a long time to do.” It is a thousand times better to get at -the root of a sore than to plaster it over by misleading fiction and -romance, as some masculine writers, fascinated by the artificial charms -of gipsy beauties—so called—have been doing. In this late day such -efforts to hoodwink thoughtful, loyal, and observing men, and others who -have the welfare of the nation at heart, may well be compared to a man -sticking a beautiful French butterfly upon a dead ox, and then going -among a crowd of bystanders with a glib tongue, and cap in hand, trying -to make them believe that the rotten dead ox was a mass of beautiful -butterflies, which only required a shower of coppers and praises to cause -them to fly. - -No wonder at stable-boys and quacks, the sons of ministers, and others, -becoming bewitched to the extent of having to face the frowns of friends -on account of their gipsy-poaching proclivities. - -My process may have been sharp and painful, and probably it is so now, -but it will be found effective, enduring, and pleasing in the end. To -deal with the evils of gipsying in a manner to excite the worst side of -human nature may be pleasing for the present, but it will bring remorse -and rottenness which no amount of misleading romance and pleasingly -painted sin will be able to cover. - -During the day I was informed by the gipsies that one young farmer had -spent fifteen shillings in bowling for cocoa-nuts, and a youth not more -than fourteen years old had spent five shillings similarly; this being -so, it is not to be wondered at that our present-day gipsies should be on -the increase at the rate they are. With fair weather, nuts cheap, -cricketers out of the way, and “plenty of young uns,” it is a “roaring -trade.” - -When questioning one gipsy woman as to how many of the gipsies upon the -ground could read and write—I roughly calculated the number of gipsies to -be over a hundred men and women, and a hundred and fifty children—she -answered me as follows: “Lord bless you, my dear good gentleman, I do not -know more than three upon the green who can read and write. It would be -a blessed thing if they could; but that will never be, as nobody takes -any interest in us gipsies.” - -It was tearfully sorrowful to see over a hundred and fifty children -squatting about in bogs, dirt, filth, excitement, iniquity, and -double-dyeing sin, groping their way to wretchedness and misery, without -any hand being put out to save them. - -So far as I could gather, not half a dozen of these gangs of un-English, -lawless tramps and travellers had ever been in either day or Sunday -school. And our civilizing “State” has not taken any steps for bringing -the gipsy and other travelling children under school influence. - -“Now, my lads, bowl away! All bad nuts returned; bowl away! Try your -luck now, my young gentlemen; try your luck; bowl away!” Bang went a -cocoa-nut off one of the stilts, flying in all directions, with the oil -scattered to the winds. One thing has often surprised me, that the -gipsies have not had frequently to carry cracked skulls, for some of the -roguish “farmer chaps” seem to delight more in bowling at the gipsies’ -heads than the cocoa-nuts at their feet. It is their quick-sightedness -and dexterous movements that save them. No drone would do to be at the -back of the “pegs,” or he would have to look out for his “pins.” - -A little farther ahead there was a family of gipsies of the name of -Smith, man, wife, and seven children, squatting upon the ground to take -their evening meal. As soon as they saw me they heartily invited me to -join them. Gipsies never invite any one to partake of a meal with them -unless with the whole heart. They never ask you with their mouths to -join them and in their hearts hope you will not. This is one of the -favourable traits in their character. For a man they love they would rob -a hen-roost to fill his belly, and they would spit in the face of the man -they hate. When you are eating with them, or, in fact, doing anything -with them, you must be as one of them, or you will have to look out for -“squalls.” They can bear and respect the man or woman who, as a friend, -speaks openly and plainly to them, but they will be down upon the man -“like a load of bricks” who tries by cunning and craft to get “the best -side of them.” - -At the first interview they suspect that every stranger has some design -upon them, and, as a consequence of ignorance and suspicion, they appear -to be sullen and reserved. This feature of gipsy life wears off as they -find out that you are a friend to them. - -I accepted their invitation to tea in the midst of cocoa-nut -establishments, steam horses, screeching of the whistles, horrifying -music of a “hurdy-gurdy” organ, swing boats, and the screams of giddy -girls and larking chaps, trotting donkeys, the galloping of “roaring -horses and broken-winded ponies,” whose riders were half drunk and mad -with rage, beating, kicking, slashing, swearing, and banging, till both -the poor animals and their riders foamed at their mouths like mad dogs. - -The old china was fetched up for me, which, Mrs. Smith said, was over a -hundred years old. A good cup of tea was poured out, the thin bread and -butter cut and laid upon a clean cloth, and I was just about to sit upon -an old piece of dirty flannel that lay upon the grass—for the grass was -at this time getting a little damp—when the good woman cried out, loud -enough to shake one’s nerves, “My dear good gentleman, you must not sit -down upon that.” “No, no,” Smith, the ungracious-nosed gipsy cried out -in a voice as loud as his wife’s. “If you do you’ll get more than you -bargained for. It’s all alive, don’t you see it?” Mrs. Smith saw that I -was anxious to change quarters to the other side of the tent, and -apologized for the filthy rag being there, by saying that “one of the -children from one of the other vans had brought it, and had not taken it -back again.” We were now seated, and I was enjoying my tea as well as I -could—they said that “they hoped that I should look upon the tea as a -fairing,” and as such I looked upon it and enjoyed it, for I was both -hungry and thirsty—when a Northampton baker appeared upon the scene -vending his bread. A little pleasantry was exchanged between the -bread-seller, the gipsies, and myself about the size of the loaves, the -dearness of the bread, and what was put into the flour before baking to -make the loaves white, large, and showy. The conversation turned upon -potatoes and alum, and the gipsy Smith discussed the quantity of potato -and alum there was in the bread the baker had sold to them. This nettled -the baker, and he said, “Bread mixed with potatoes and alum was good -enough for pigs, but it—” The gipsy would not let him finish his -sentence, but instantly sprang to his feet, and ran at the baker, and -struck him on the breast with his tightened fist, calling out, “Do you -mean to say that bread mixed with potatoes is good enough for pigs, and -do you call us pigs? You reckon us as pigs, do you? You shall remember -this or I am not Righteous Gipsy Smith.” And just as he was running at -the half-frightened baker again Mrs. Smith stepped between them. An -altercation took place, one of the most disgusting and sickening I ever -knew. The baker’s wife now came up, and for a few minutes there was such -a storm over the pot as I had never seen in my life. It bid fair to -become a general _melée_. I was called in to decide who was in the -wrong. This was no little difficulty, as the gipsy was excited by beer, -and the baker by rage and fear. The end of it was I calmed them both -down. The baker and his wife sped their way to Northampton, and the -gipsy to the back of his van, to vent his bile and calm his passion, -after which we sat down to finish our tea. This being over, and calm, -peace, and quietness reigning, I gave the children some coppers and shook -hands warmly with the gipsies, and thanked them, and then turned to -another phase of gipsy life. - -I began to think that it was quite time to look after my lodging for the -night, and wended my way to Boughton village, some half-mile or more -away. This was a work of no light undertaking. I first tried to find a -clean bed in a quiet cottage, which, after tramping about from house to -house, knocking, inquiring, had to be given up as impossible. The poor -folks eyed me over from head to foot with wondering curiosity. They -seemed to be puzzled as to my movements, and as to whether they should -reckon me as a gentleman, or a bailiff, who had secreted in my pockets -either a county-court summons or an execution. I next tried the -“publicans and sinners.” At first they hesitated about giving me an -answer; especially the innkeeper at the “Griffin.” They seemed to wonder -whether I was or was not a parson, spying out the land. The landlady at -the “Red Lion” was holding out encouragement, until the landlord, who -might be made of vinegar and crabs, appeared upon the scene, calling out -gruffly, “No, we can’t do wi anybodys;” and out I went, expecting to have -a stone for my pillow under some wall or hedge-bottom upon the green. -Fortunately I called at a cottage on the roadside, about a hundred and -fifty yards from the green, to see if they could oblige me with a bed. -After a minute’s hesitation, the good woman, who seemed to have a large -heart and a good-natured face, said, “Yes, you look to be a gentleman, -and we will try to accommodate you. Come in and make yourself at home. -Will you have some tea?” - -After a rest for a few minutes, and as the shades of evening were -gathering round, I strolled upon the “green” and found Bacchus was on his -throne with Atè, Discordia, Momus, and Mars as his attendants. -Concordia, Harpocrates, and Pudicitia had not been upon the “green,” or, -if so, they had been only for a very short time. Broken glasses, empty -beer barrels, corks, pieces of paper, and stools upside down were to be -seen on every hand. The perfume of burning paraffin, aroma of the beer -barrel, and stench of the brandy bottle met me at every turn as I wended -my way among the wicked, silly, larking, and foolish. Here and there -could be seen girls scarcely in their teens, with the arms of half-drunk -“chaps” round their waists—upon the table before them were “jugs of -beer”—and opening their mouths wide as if they would be delighted at any -one looking down their throats as they bawled out most disgusting songs. -In one of the booths between forty and fifty boys and girls were larking -together in a manner that made one shudder to think of the results. Some -of them were threatening vengeance to their “Bills,” “Jacks,” or “Toms,” -if they said a word to them when they got home. - -One of the women struck up, as if she was determined to contribute her -share to the debauch, in squeaking tones resembling that of a cracked tin -whistle— - - “We won’t go home till morning, - Till daylight does appear.” - -A little ahead a rustle, commotion, and hubbub was going on; of course I -must join in the crush. I could not get very near. When I inquired what -was the matter, I was coolly told that “it was only a man and woman -fight.” Thanks to the excellent body of policemen at hand, it was soon -stopped. Another “turn” in the distance was taking place. A gipsy—a -big, cowardly, hulking fellow—and an Englishman had long had a grudge -against each other. The Englishman could not get the cowardly gipsy to -“fight it out.” At last the Englishman offered the gipsy half a crown -and a gallon of beer to let him have one “round” with him. The gipsy -consented to this condition. The money was paid and the beer drunk, -after which the gipsy wanted to back out of the bargain. Before the big -gipsy would at the last minute undertake to fight the little Englishman, -the gipsy stipulated that there was to be “no hitting upon the noses.” -The Englishman did not like this shuffling, but he agreed to it, and they -stripped for the encounter. For a few minutes they sparred about until -the gipsy saw his opportunity to hit the Englishman full tilt upon his -nose, which he did with a tremendous force sufficient to break it. When -the gipsy was asked why he did it, he said, “I could not help it, my hand -slipped.” A little farther on still, I came upon a policeman rolling an -empty beer barrel from the policemen’s tent towards the beer stores. - - [Picture: The “sweets” and “sours” of Gipsy modern life] - -During the day I did not observe one “blue ribbon” policeman upon the -grounds—nor, in fact, did I see one upon the course. No doubt there were -many good and true men and women upon the “green” who had gone there -purposely to sell their wares. Would to God that there had been more of -them, and then there would have been less rows, and less cause for such a -body of policemen. The pure gipsy rows—_i.e._, a number of gipsies -joining in a general _melée_ of an “up-and-down fight,” paying off old -scores—were less this year than they have been known for a long time. -Several times a row was imminent, but with a little tact and the common -sense of the women—aye, and of the men too—it was averted. I observed a -little more sulkiness than usual on the part of a few of the gipsies, but -with a little pleasantry this passed off. - -I retired from the hubbub for a few minutes, to stand against one of the -huge trees growing upon the edge of the “green,” and while there I heard -some gipsies chuckling over the “gingered” and “screwed” horses and -ponies they had sold during the fair, and arranging which of their party -should hunt the customer out the next day, to buy back for a five-pound -note their palmed-off “broken-winded” and “roaring old screws” which they -had sold for seventeen pound or twenty pound during the fair. A -fine-looking broken-winded horse, “roarer” or “cribber,” with the mark -intact, is almost a fortune for a gipsy. During two or three years -“while he will go,” the “screw” is sold and bought in again scores of -times. Many of the horse-dealing gipsies are dressed nowadays as -farmers, and by these means they more readily palm off their “screws” -upon young beginning town or street hawkers, carriers, and higglers. - -Living in some of the vans of gipsies there were man, woman, and, in some -instances, seven or eight sons and daughters of all ages. In other vans -and tents there was a mixture of men, women, and children, not of the -same blood relationship; and the same may be said of some of the -travelling gingerbread hawkers. - -Those of the hawkers who were rich enough to own a van slept in it -“higgledy-piggledy,” “pell-mell,” and “all of a heap.” Those who had not -vans, the men, women, and “chaps” slept upon the ground, under the stall -boards, in a manner which would be a disgrace to South African -civilization and Zulu morals. - -In the midst of waning twilight and the gathering of sheets and rents, -some of the gipsy women were preparing for their last meal before -shutting the van doors and drawing to their tent curtains. Scores of -poor little lost, dirty, ignorant, neglected, and almost naked, gipsy -children gathered round me for “coppers” and “sweets.” After digging -deep into my pocket for all I could find, and distributing them among the -children, I bade the gipsy parents “good-night” and a “good-bye,” and -then turned to have a chat and a “good-night” with George Bagworth, the -steam-horse driver, and his wife, the “popgun” firer. George was dressed -in his best large Scotch plaid suit from head to foot. His “hurdy-gurdy -steam organ,” and “flying horses,” had winged married and single, men, -women, and children, round and round, exhibiting their thick and thin -legs, not modestly for the riders, but successfully for George and his -sharp, good-looking, business wife. George was in good humour with -himself and everybody else. He entered freely into conversation about -his troubles and trials in former years, and of his successes, position, -and future views. - -He is very good to poor cocoa-nut gamblers. It often happens that some -of the poor unfortunate fraternity arrive upon the “course,” “green,” or -“fair” without a “tanner.” A wink of his wife’s eye prompts George to -advance them sufficient money to give them a start. This—for there is -honour among thieves—is paid back at the close of the fair, with many -thanks. George pointed out to me again with pride the vans he had made, -and with little greater pride to his artistic painting of the heathen -gods and goddesses, which were the mainstays of his whirligig -establishment. - -George’s wife hung down her head at the non-success of her “popgun” -galleries. “But it is no use ‘frettin’ and cryin’ over spilt milk,’” she -said, while preparing their supper tea. “You’ll join us, won’t you, sir? -you shall be made right welcome, and have the best we’ve got.” They -fetched out their best antique china cup and saucer, and we three sat -down to a box table with cloth cover to enjoy the twilight meal, with the -twinkling stars overhead, and the gipsies’ lurcher dogs prowling about -the tents and vans, snuffling and smelling after the odds and ends and -other trifles. Speaking within compass, I should think there would not -be fewer than thirty lurchers skulking under the stalls as eagerly as if -after hares and rabbits. Of course George Bagworth’s joined in the scent -and sniffle. “Mine host” was a poacher bred and born—at least he had a -spell of it in his younger days among the woods, parks, spinnies, and -plantations joining Leicestershire and Staffordshire coalfields. The -twinkling star repast was finished; hubbub, din, screeching, yelling, -fighting, singing, shouting, swearing, blaspheming, and loud oaths were -dying out. Pluto seemed to be getting tired of his feast; Somnus was -observed stealthily wending his way among Bacchus’s wounded followers, -and the vast herds and tribes of poor, neglected, uneducated, and lost -little children living in sin, pestilential, and vitiated atmosphere with -dark—very dark—and black future before them, which the rising of a -morning’s sun could not dispel. - -As I wended my way to my lodgings I could not help thinking of -Sennacherib’s army besieging Jerusalem with no Hezekiah to deliver. - -I had now found my way to my lodgings. Round the family table in the -cottage there were Mr. and Mrs. Gayton, “mine host and hostess,” and one -or two friends. While the conversation was going on a party of drunken -fellows were bawling out down the road some kind of song, which I could -not comprehend. Mr. Gayton’s sister said it was a song she knew well; -and with a little persuasion—notwithstanding Mrs. Gayton’s twitching, -nervous manner and disinclination to hear it—the good woman struck up in -a sweet but rather shrill voice, and in somewhat affecting tremulous -tone, the song, as follows: - - “Little empty cradle, treasured so with care, - Tho’ thy precious burden now has fled, - How we miss the locks of curly golden hair, - Peeping from the tiny snow-white bed. - When the dimpled cheeks and pretty laughing eyes, - From the rumpled pillows shone, - Then I gazed with gladness, now I looked with sighs, - Empty is the cradle—baby’s gone. - - “Baby left her cradle for the golden shore, - O’er the silvery waters she has flown, - Gone to join the angels, peaceful evermore, - Empty is the cradle—baby’s gone.” - -After the first verse was ended I noticed again a little subdued and -stifled sobbing, and the mistress of the house wiping her eyes with the -corner of her apron. - -I could see that there was some cause for the tear-fetching tenderness -and sympathy that was manifested, and I gently asked for information, and -was told by the good people that during the last month two of the -youngest babies had been sent for to live in the angel-world where no -tears are seen and sighing heard. A melting, sorrowful sadness seemed to -creep over me as I looked round the room. A parent cannot describe the -feelings, and no one but a parent can feel them. - -The cradle was empty in the corner; the lovely little birds had flown to -sing in a lovelier clime. The tender-hearted mother gave way to a -woman’s dewy feelings while another verse was sung, in which I could not -help joining, owing to having passed through similar circumstances. I -had lost more than one little tender lamb, and could enter feelingly into -the motherly woman’s misfortunes. I said the children were not lost but -gone before, where there are neither tears nor the pinchings of poverty. -In the midst of the solemn scene I wended my way upstairs to my humble -cot; my softened feelings, wet eyes, and scalding tears prevented me -worshipping Morpheus till just as the candle was flickering out in the -socket. - -I then dropped into a dozing sleep to awake at opening day, after which I -bade my friends the gipsies good-bye, and left “the mother bending o’er -her beauty buds.” - - - - -Rambles among the Gipsies at St. Giles’ Fair, Oxford. - - -ON Saturday, September 4th, 1882, I found myself travelling southward by -the aid of a carrier’s waggon and first, second, and third class railway -carriages, surrounded by gentlemen, clergymen, tradesmen, farmers, -cattle-dealers, labourers, soldiers, snobs, fops, and scamps, and ladies -fat and thin, pretty, plain, reserved, lovable, and smiling; and as we -neared London the sleeping, yawning, gaping, and slow movements seemed to -be giving way to activity, bustle, restlessness, and anxious looks. -Stopping, banging, and dashing, and on we sped. In the train I had a -pleasant chat with the Rev. Mr. Gibbotson, vicar of Braunston, who -related to me some of his experiences with canal-boat children and the -gipsies. In one instance a gipsy charged him three shillings and -sixpence for grinding his nail scissors; and in another instance a sharp, -clever boat boy of twelve had passed the sixth standard, and was in a -fair way of becoming a pupil teacher, but in six months spent among the -canal children in floating up and down the country, he had learnt some of -their wicked and bad habits, which had ruined his career. After changing -carriages, I saw at one of the North London stations a woman, who must -have imagined that she was in the country, creeping out of one of the -compartments with her sweet-looking child of some four or five summers at -snail speed, and as if changing would have done to-morrow. She quietly -found her way to the carriage door and opened it very gently, and was -about to step leisurely upon the platform when the train began to move -off. Her eyes were now opened, and with a wild stare she tumbled the -child upon the platform, and then in getting out herself she fell upon -the footboard. Fortunately for herself and the child, the guard was -close by at the time, and with the quickness of lightning he seized the -child with one hand and its mother with the other and pulled them upon -the platform, the child upon its face and the mother upon her back, and -saved their lives in less time than I could twinkle my eye. The child -cried, the mother screamed, and the last I saw of them, as we were -rounding the curve, was that a porter was picking up the child, and the -bewildered mother was gathering herself together as well as she could. - - [Picture: “On the road” to Oxford Fair] - -On my way I called at a large block of new mansions in course of -erection, and which my son had in hand, and found a joke very nearly -carried into tragical and awful effect. The “lift” was not working well, -and a gentleman not of a classical or ministerial kind, rather than use -his legs in going up the ordinary stairs, preferred using the temporary -goods hoist, and said to one of the men as he was jumping into the cage -against the wish of friends, “Jump in, and if we must go to hell, we may -as well go together.” They had no sooner landed at the top of the -building and just cleared the cage, than it dropped to the bottom of the -building with terrific force, carrying destruction with it. One minute -longer and they would both have been in eternity. - -Having fairly landed in London, I made my way to the Religious Tract -Society, and the Wesleyan Sunday-school Union, for some pictures, and -books, and magazines for the gipsy children, which were gladly given to -me, and with my bundles, bags, &c., I turned into my lodging in Museum -Street well tired. Overnight I inquired of my host if I could get a ’bus -or a cab that would take me to Paddington by nine o’clock on Sunday -morning. At this question he shook his head and said, “The ’busses will -not be running so early as eight o’clock, and the cabs, what few you will -meet, will be on their way home; therefore you will have a difficulty in -getting your packages to the station. And if you order one overnight it -is ten to one if they will come.” From this answer I could see that my -only course was to be up early enough to lug them to the station myself. -Six o’clock on Sunday morning found me getting a cup of cold tea and a -sandwich for my breakfast, after which I started down Oxford Street with -my four parcels, weighing about three-quarters of a hundredweight. No -’busses were to be seen. Here and there were tired, straggling cabmen -wending their way home. As I hailed them they shook their heads and on -they went. I managed to carry my load about two hundred yards, and then -turned off the street to rest, and to leave the few stragglers moving -about Oxford Street wondering as to my movements. Not far from Tottenham -Court Road I turned off the main street a few yards, and stood with my -back to the solitary passers-by, putting a few notes into my pocket-book, -when I was startled and somewhat surprised to find two tall young men at -my elbow, and without a word one of them deposited upon the Religious -Tract Society’s parcel a small book, entitled “A Cure for the Incurable,” -which I picked up and read as follows: - - “During the journey we were joined by a young man and woman, the - latter evidently labouring under some distressing bodily infirmity. - The young man took advantage of the vacated scats to place his - afflicted companion in a recumbent position, carefully covering her - feet with a shawl. I gently alluded to her appearing unwell. ‘Yes, - ma’am,’ she replied, ‘I am just dismissed from St. Thomas’s Hospital - as _incurable_.’ The tone of her voice, and the tear which trickled - down her pale cheek, instantly awakened my sympathy. Her four - children, one a baby, and her dear husband, she said, made it ‘hard - to die;’ but she believed God would care for the motherless ones, and - cheer the lonely widower. ‘The doctors,’ she added, ‘say I may live - some months, but that cure is impossible. So I thought I would - rather be in my own cottage, where I could look at my children, and - see the flowers outside my door, and have fresh air, than remain in - the hospital; though I had everything of the best there, and great - kindness shown me. But, ma’am, home is home; and my husband knows - how to nurse me better than any one else. I know that I shall not - live long; but I shall die at home, and God will comfort my dear - husband, and will go through the dark valley with me.’ This brief - interview was deeply touching to me, and my tears flowed with - theirs.” - -Just as I had finished the hasty glance through the little book, and was -preparing for another “move on,” I noticed a tall, emaciated, half-clad -young woman approaching me from the opposite side of the street. Such a -picture of misery I have rarely seen. She did not seem to have more than -one loosely-hung old garment upon her, which, as she walked, revealed the -shape of her figure, which did not at all seem a bad one; moral -deformities had not as yet, to all appearance, begun to tell heavily upon -her frame. On presenting herself to me she said, in tones of despair, -“Will you please give me sufficient to buy me a cup of coffee? I want it -very bad, I can assure you, sir. Do, dear sir.” Her eyes were red -either with drink, tears, or anguish. Poor lost soul! thought I; and on -she went to ruin and death. - -I started again, and had got nearly to Oxford Circus, and deposited my -parcels upon the pavement, and was surveying things over in my mind, when -I heard something chirping over my head. I could not tell where the -sound came from. It was not crying, nor was it either singing or -moaning. My curiosity was set at rest as I lifted up my head to look -above. To my surprise, a young woman with lovely face, and head studded -with “curling bobs,” was peeping out of one of the top bedroom windows -and delightfully engaged in throwing kisses at somebody across the -street. “Chirp,” “chirp,” “chirp,” owing to the stillness of the -morning, sounded as distinctly as if they were near to me; at any rate -the kisses were not for me, and on I trudged. As I passed Holles Street, -people, young and old, with books under their arms and in their hands, -were going to early Sunday morning prayer-meetings, or other religious -services. What a contrast to a gathering of half-drunken hulking youths -and men tumbling and quarrelling about Gilbert Street, I thought. After -receiving not a few insults, I moved forward by stages till I arrived at -the Marble Arch, about eight o’clock, with my face covered with -perspiration, and my hands, arms, and shoulders tingling and aching with -a kind of deadness and shooting pains. Scavenger carts were moving to -and fro, carrying the filth and off-scouring of all nations. A coffee -stall seemed to have been doing a good business, if the pell-mell -gathering, sauntering array might be taken as a specimen of the quantity -and quality of the coffee drinkers, who might be called the loitering -customers of the “pub” in search of more substantial beverage than gin -and beer. Near Southwick Crescent and Oxford Square I passed another -coffee stall, more respectable in appearance than the one at Marble Arch, -upon which was painted in large letters, “The Church of England -Temperance Society.” I now began to try to make a further move, when a -cabman hailed in sight, who looked as if he were going on the stand -instead of coming off it. A bargain was struck, and he bowled me off at -a rattling pace to the Great Western station, where I arrived about -twenty minutes past eight o’clock, stiff and tired about my legs and -arms. In pacing backwards and forwards upon the platform, I nudged, -accidentally, the elbow of a porter who was taking his “swig” at a -passenger’s whiskey bottle. Whether the neck of the bottle tilted -against his teeth, or some of its contents went down his bosom instead of -his throat, I could not tell. He did not say much about the accident, -but his looks were “awful,” and my begging pardon could not turn them -into a smile. Another porter said, “They could do without Sunday -travelling if it were not for the London beer-drinkers. Shut up -beershops and you will gag Sunday trains.” - -Some thirty or forty city fishermen, with their rods and tins, were -moving backwards and forwards waiting for the train; they were evidently -going out for a spree. One round jolly-faced, good-looking porter said -to me, “They are going out a-fishing, but it’s not many fish they catch. -They catch something they don’t expect sometimes. They are not all fish -that comes to their lines. ‘Many of the city fishermen gets a line and a -tin, and goes into the country and calls themselves travellers, and turns -into the first ‘pub’ they come to and then they booze all God’s day away, -and keep us poor chaps at work all Sunday instead of going to church or -chapel. Sunday travelling ought to be done away with; at any rate there -ought only to be two trains a day each way, out and into London.” A -porter then cried out, “Take your places for Slough, Reading, and -Oxford.” I obeyed his call, and found myself sitting opposite an old -friend, Mr. J. Seaman, from the _Weekly Times_. In the train the brandy -bottle was pulled out by a man whose nose apparently had been too -prominent upon his pugilistic-looking face at times for somebody’s -bruising machine; at any rate there was an indent in it upon which cock -robin could have sat very comfortably for an hour piping forth the curses -of drink and its consequences, and the blessing of God’s Sabbath as a day -of rest for man and beast. - -In another corner was a young woman, dispensing liberally port wine to -her new and old friends around her, bringing to the faces of some of them -the alternate red blush and pale white, indicating that some monster was -at work within them, telling them that it was wrongdoing. After a three -hours’ pleasant chat on this bright summer’s morning, with my friend, I -arrived at Oxford. After partaking of a cold lunch, I made my way with -my arms full of pictures, books, and illustrated tracts, to the two -hundred vans and covered carts outside Oxford, near Somers Town. By the -time I had arrived the rain had begun to come down heavily. In wending -my way among the nearly two-mile length of vans, shows, covered carts, -and waggons, I found some old faces who gladly welcomed me. The road was -little better than a puddle. Thousands of Oxonians were running to and -fro, star-gazing, gossiping, laughing, shouting, and making fun on the -roadside. With a vast number of them Sunday seemed as on other days. -Little stalls of nuts, apples, plums, were on the footpaths. -Notwithstanding the pouring rain, the poor little dirty gipsy children -clustered round me in the vans and out of them for the pictures, books, -&c. Poor lost souls! some of them, old and young, big and little, men -and women, might not have been washed for months. Some of the -“hobbledehoys, betwixt men and boys,” of Oxford tried to make as big -fools of themselves as they could, and kept shouting out, “Now, governor, -they will swallow your bag if you will give it ’em.” Some of the town’s -children admired my pretty books, and closed upon me for some, which I am -sorry to say I had to refuse, as they were for the big and little -travellers. In the vans, &c., there would be an average of four -children, two men, and two women, and out of this vast mass of travellers -there would not be fifty who could read or write. “Of the persons,” says -the _Daily Telegraph_, “who were committed to prison last year, 60,840 -could neither read nor write. Ignorance and crime go hand in hand -together. This is a fact beyond disputation.” In some of the vans I -counted eight children, besides the men and women. In one van there was -a man with a broken leg. In three other vans there were three men ill. -Several of the women had bruises upon their faces, and two had black -eyes, and the children were squatting about among the mud in the ditch. - - “I was a taper smoking, - Lying by the footway, - Lease gleam of red away, - Smoke my thin flame choking.” - - DR. GROSART, _Sunday at Home_. - -Under the vans there were over a hundred lurcher dogs, ready for -anything, including white-tailed rabbits, “shoshi,” long-legged hares, -“kanégro,” and other trifles of this kind, down to a shin-bone of beef -hanging loosely in a butcher’s shop—aye, and a piece of a man’s calf if -he came too near to them and was not wanted. Gipsies’ dogs are so highly -trained that they understand a gipsy’s looks; and I should not be -surprised to hear that their dogs can “rocker” Romany. The dogs are -perfectly masters of the art of killing hedgehogs, _hotchi-witchi_. Like -their masters, they go stealthily to work and never “open.” Gipsy -poachers have been known to clear a field of hares and rabbits and “bag -their game” while the keepers have been lying in wait for them over the -fence. - -Among the vans I came across, for the first time, a “George Smith” a -gipsy. I have met with any number of “John Smiths,” “Bill Smiths,” “Rily -Smiths,” but never a “George Smith.” This led me to have a long chat -with him and his wife. They are Oxfordshire gipsies, and from what I -learned afterwards they are “tidy sort of folks.” I felt inclined to -have a long conversation; in fact, I seemed to feel a greater interest in -him on account of his being a “George Smith” gipsy. The good woman and -her six children looked almost like pure gipsies, but such was not the -fact. They could “rocker” a little only, and got a fair living by -gambling in cocoa-nuts and horse-dealing. “George Smith” told me that he -never went more than fifty miles from home, and when he bought and sold -horses—of a third-rate kind—once he could do so the second time. All -horse-dealing gipsies are not of this class. Gipsies often told me that -they like to see fresh faces, fresh places, and fresh money. During my -conversation with Mrs. Smith, she said formerly she liked hedgehogs; but -since she had found out that “they liked beetles and snakes” her “stomach -had turned against them.” She went on to say, “I am no doctor, but I am -told by those who know, that the yellow fat inside a hedgehog, which you -know, sir, is from the poison of snakes and adders; hedgehogs are dead on -snakes and adders. Immediately a snake sees a hedgehog it kicks up a -terrible row, and tries to scamper off as fast as it can. No more -hedgehogs for me while I live; and I am sure our George will not have -any.” Not one of this family of Smiths could tell a letter, although -they sometimes sent their children to school a short time in the winter; -but, as the good woman said, “Lord bless you, my dear gentleman, what bit -they learn in the winter is gone again in the summer, and they are no -better for it.” I told them my plan for meeting their case, viz., by the -registration of their vans and a free education pass book for their -children, with which they heartily agreed. I left them several pleasing -children’s pictures, cards, &c., with which they were highly delighted, -and I then made my way to quell a gipsy row further on, which I found to -be, as usual, over the most trivial things. While I was busy among the -gipsies I saw two young ladies, I might almost say angels, from Oxford, -disregarding the rain, talking and distributing tracts among them. The -tracts were not exactly of the right kind; children’s religious pictorial -literature is what is the most pleasing, acceptable, and useful. Dry -tracts are no better than waste paper; and it is almost a waste of time -and money to distribute them. A little further on were three gentlemen -from Oxford discoursing to a group of gipsy children, and no doubt they -did some good; at least I hope so. If anything, their excellent -well-meant remarks were not made sufficiently interesting, or brought -down to the gipsy children and adults’ capacities. A wild, dry anecdote, -badly told, and without a pleasing and practical application, will not do -much good at any time. - -In addressing gipsies, and other people of this class, two things are -needed to ensure success. There must either be the extreme earnestness -or the extreme simplicity, and no man or woman can succeed in winning -them over to virtuous paths unless these features are ever brought -prominently out. They must either be as Paul preaching to the Athenians, -or as Christ upon the Mount discoursing to the multitudes in deeply -interesting parables, put with an irresistible force of love and -simplicity; or as St. John the divine when surrounded by little children, -preaching with but few words, but speaking volumes of love in sympathetic -looks, melting tears, and gentle touches, reaching tender and obdurate -hearts in a Christ-like fashion, with a power that the devil himself -could not withstand. Love, earnestness, and child-like simplicity -brought to bear upon any gipsy children who are sharp and clever will -produce surprising heavenly results—aye, and from the gipsy men and women -too. In the gipsy mine there is room for all workers. - - “Working together in the sacred mine, - We trace the veins of ore beneath our feet, - Till riches unimaginable greet.” - - RICHARD WILTON, M.A., _Sunday at Home_, No. 1268. - -Instead of working— - - “Oft have we lingered in the TENT, - The ‘pearl’ unbought, - The book unread, the knee unbent - The grace unsought. - Oft have despondency and shame - Our faith assailed, - And when we would confess Thy name - Our courage failed.” - - CANON BATEMAN, _Sunday at Home_, No. 1267. - -Among this mile and a half of gipsy vans there were some “nice and clean” -travelling homes. In one I found a good woman reading to her children by -the evening fire, and the kettle “singing on the hob.” As I paddled and -waddled over boot-tops in mud, in the midst of this vast concourse of -people young and old, never in my life did I so fully realize the case of -the poor man who had fallen among thieves, and the action of the priest -and Levite, and also that of the Samaritan. The whole scene depicted in -the good old book seemed to come before me as one vast panorama, -exhibiting human life under a variety of aspects. On the one hand, drawn -along the side of the road in the ditch for more than a mile and a half, -there were two hundred vans, carts, and tents, inhabited by a thousand -gipsy men, women, and children of all ages, mostly in the deepest depths -of wretchedness, ignorance, misery, and dirt—of many of whom it might be -said that they were thieves among thieves—had been travelling all -Saturday night or on Sunday morning to be at the fair in time for a good -place. Gipsies, showpeople, and others of this wandering class travel -chiefly on Sundays. Saturday nights and Monday nights are, as a rule, -their best nights. Some of them had with their poor bony horses, from -“shutting-up time” on Saturday night to Sunday afternoon, travelled over -forty miles, and most wretched spectacles they were. On the other hand, -and on the footpath, there were thousands of gentle and simple, rich and -poor, young and old, saints and sinners, ministers and their flocks, -moving to and fro, some of whom sneered at the gipsies, others mocked, -laughed, and joked. Some were disgusted, and others looked pensive and -sorrowful at the picture of an Oxford Lent carnival being spent in this -way on a Christian Sabbath in the centre of Christendom and civilization, -with its hundreds of Christian ministers within sight and call, who did -not answer to the voice of love or duty. Well might Washbourne cry out— - - “Our hearts are broke, our harps unstringèd be, - Our only musick’s sighs and groans, - Our songs are to the tune of _lachrymose_, - We are fretted all to skin and bones.” - - DR. GROSART’S “_Fuller Worthies_.” - -After I had distributed my books, and wended my way to the end of this -long lane of sin and iniquity, I turned to look at the heartrending -sight. There were hundreds of gipsy men and women, some few of whom had -fallen from the paths of virtue, uprightness, and honesty, and some six -hunched to seven hundred poor gipsy children of all ages weltering in the -ditch. Not twenty children out of this vast number had been taught at -the knee of a kind, gentle, loving mother to lisp in tender, trembling -simple tones, to which heaven and the whole angelic host stoop to listen -with open ears, for fear one word might be lost— - - “Lord Jesus teach a child to pray, - Who humbly kneels to Thee, - And every night and every day - My Friend and Saviour be. - - “While here I live, give me Thy grace, - And when I’m called to die, - Oh, take my soul to see Thy face, - And sing Thy praise on high.” - -My heart was almost ready to break, and the big teardrop forced its way -down my face. Just as I was turning away with a sad and aching heart, a -little sharp gipsy girl dark-eyed, of ten summers, clutched hold of my -hand and coat. She looked up into my face and said, “Eh, Mr. Smith, -don’t you know me? Don’t you remember giving me a little book and a -penny when I was very ill in our van upon the Leicester racecourse last -year? Mother and doctor said I should die, but you see I’m not dead yet. -My name is Smith. There are lots of gipsy Smiths.” Before she had -finished her interesting little story a large number of little gipsies -had gathered round me, among whom I had to distribute, with care and -tact, all the pictures and little books I had left. It was now dark. -Fires in old gipsy tin buckets and on the wet ground were to be seen; -sticks were crackling; lights shining under the vans and in the small -windows and through the crevices and over the top half of their doors; -their evening meals sent forth a variety of odours, ranging from snail -soup to red herrings, dead pig, and hashed venison. The barking and -growling of their lurcher dogs were heard more frequently and savagely. -The thousands of dripping star-gazers and sightseers, rough and smooth, -drunk and sober, had begun to get pleasingly less; rain was coming down -almost in torrents; nevertheless the children felt loath to leave me. To -the onlookers I could have said, with George Herbert— - - “Rain, do not hurt my flowers, but gently spend - Your lovely drops. Press not to smell them here; - When they are ripe their odour will ascend, - And at your lodging with their thanks appear.” - - “_Fuller Worthies_.” - -With many caresses, thanks, and good wishes from the children, I groped -my way to my lodging with thankfulness, but in a wretched plight, -suffering from my lifelong enemy—giddiness. After five minutes’ chat -with my round-faced host I mounted, with a hot head, and cold wet feet, -“wooden hills,” and amongst the blankets and feathers I snoozed into a -fitful sleep, to be startled by wild dreams and nocturnal noises. In one -of my strange flights I found myself in a dark and dismal-looking place -like a chimney-sweep’s underground soot storehouse. How I got there was -a mystery I have never been able to solve. The only things I remember in -connection with my visit to this dark abode was, the good spirit led me -through alleys, by colleges, churches, chapels, synagogues, and schools -of every grade. Marks of civilization were everywhere visible on my -path. There were ministers and teachers on every hand. One little -narrow backway led me to a small narrow opening down some narrow, rugged -steps. As soon as I entered, a small door of the colour of the walls -instantly closed upon me as with a spring, and before I had time to look -back at the way by which I entered, I was in worse than a Roman or gipsy -maze. At first a cold, chilly sensation of fright and terror crept over -me. My hair seemed to rear bolt upright in a twinkle; but this soon -passed away after realizing the fact that I was among friends. There -were no windows except one dismal pane, through which the moonlight -gleamed. There were no candles. The grate was made up of bricks and -rusty crooked old bars of iron put loosely together without mortar. The -fender was of two long shin-bones, and the ends of it two thigh-bones of -a man. The fire was crackling with sticks and the bones of rabbits, -partridges, pheasants, and fowls. Beetles, cockroaches, toads, and -spiders were as thick as they could creep and stick. A dead pig’s skin -badly cured, with the bristles sticking on it in patches, was laid upon -the broken stones on the floor as a hearth-rug. In a large pot over the -fire there were boiling large pieces of diseased pork in a thickish -liquid, which was stirred every few minutes by an old “hag” with a -ham-bone. The uneven, broken walls of the room were covered with greasy -grime and filth, upon which were hung pictures of skeletons, death, -coffins, and cross-bones, and most horrible, murderous-looking men and -women. - -In the centre of this large, deathly room there was a kind of long, low, -tumble-down table propped up with bricks, old tressels, and stones. The -top was sickly, dirty, loose, and uneven. Round the room there were -scores of men, women, and children, blackened with dirt, grease, and -grime, who had never been washed since they were ushered into the world, -sitting and squatting upon the floor. Their language was that of -thieving, robbing, cheating, lying, &c.; and their spare time—at least -some of them—while the cooking was going on, was passed with the devil’s -cards. For a few minutes all was as silent as death, and then the old -“hag” placed upon the table the pot which had been hanging over the fire, -after which she handed to each of us in the room an old broken mug, and -told us to help ourselves to what was in the pot. At this a general rush -took place; swearing and fighting was about to begin in earnest, with the -probability of it ending in murder without the outside world knowing of -it. I was about to begin my sickening share when I said to the lot of -them, “Now, chaps, women, and children, in my country it is usual for us -to say ‘grace’ before meat and thanks after it on occasions like this, -and, if you don’t mind, I’ll follow out the practice now.” Several of -the poor little lost creatures cried out, “That’s capital! if it’s -anything nice we shall like it. We’ve not had anything we like for a -long time.” I told them to be quiet, and then proceeded with, “Be -pleased, O Lord, to grant us—” “Stop! stop!” cried out the old “hag.” -“What did you say? ‘O Lord?’ What do you mean? What is it? who is it? -and where does He come from? We’ve never heard the name before.” I -said, “Let me finish, and then I will tell you afterwards.” I began -again to say grace, and proceeded as follows: “Be pleased, O Lord, to -grant us Thy blessing with this food, for Jesus—” They now all jumped -upon their feet, and an old, grey-headed man, the picture of a Cabul -murderer, with Satan in his face and the devil in his eyes, along with -the wretched, ragged, lost, and emaciated little creatures, cried out, -“Who is Jesus? We have never heard of Him before. Does He live in a big -house? and has He plenty of rabbits, hares, game, and fowls in His -plantations? because we should like to know.” I told them, in a way that -excited their curiosity, as to who God was, and also as to who Jesus was. -They set to their midnight supper like a lot of pigs. I took a little, -but was far from enjoying it. When they had finished their supper they -put their mugs upon the floor, and the bones they gave to a number of -bony, hungry-looking dogs, a kind of cross between bulldogs, bloodhounds, -and greyhounds, which were ready for any kind of work between the death -of a keeper and a young rabbit. They reminded me very much of the big, -hungry wretch of a dog in Landseer’s “Jack in Office”— - - “His lean dog scanned him by the three-legged stool.” - - _Harris_. - -The conversation after supper took place in a language which they thought -I could not understand, as to what was to be done on the morrow. I was -mute now for a time. The children were to look after and bring home all -the eggs, chickens, and fowls they could lay their hands upon. The men -were to bring in larger game; and the women were to hunt up the servant -girls. Each one had their work allotted them. As a kind of relief, and -in broken English, in which they thought I would gladly join them, a -number of the elder ones related how many times they had been “nabbed” -and sent to “quod.” Some of them related that they had been in the -“stone jug” three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, and up to a -score times; yea, even with glee some of the children gave me an account -of the things they had stolen as they had passed from door to door on -their thieving rambles. Now was the opportunity, I thought, during a -lull in the conversation, to change the subject, and began to relate some -of the beautiful things I had seen and lovely countries I had passed -through; the loving smiles, gentle looks, and kind actions I had been -brought in contact with; the many real, good-hearted friends I had; the -many lovely flowers, delightful walks, and pleasant companions there were -ready to join the travellers travelling in my country; water was -rippling, birds were singing, sun was shining, and a land flowing with -milk and honey in view, with long life into the bargain. As I recited -these things to them they all—poor things!—stared with open mouths as -they had never stared before. They now drew close to me. Although the -odour was anything but agreeable, I kept on relating to them the -blessings and advantages of my country, till they one and all cried out, -with bated breath, “How far is it to your country, governor? Will it be -the same for us if we go?” I said, “Yes, my good friends, it will be so -for you and more. Will you go?” They now cried out, “We will go; but we -shall have to trust you to get us out of this place.” “All right,” I -said; “I will try to find a way out of this miserable hole somehow or -other for you.” - -I began to puzzle my brains as to how their deliverance was to be -accomplished. For some little time I pondered the matter over, when it -occurred to me that at the bottom end of the dismal room I had noticed a -place upon the wall which looked like a door that had been plastered over -in somebody’s time by pieces of old rags and paper. - -I drew near to it, and scanned it over more closely. After feeling round -the edges of it for a few minutes, one of the oldest and most -wretched-looking gipsies spoke out in hasty tones, and with an amount of -warmth that led me to hesitate for a moment to hear what further he had -to say. He stopped short. So I said, “Well, Righteous Palmer, what is -there behind this opening if I should proceed to find out?” “Oh, a lot, -I’m told by those who know. Our place is bad enough, as our old witch -knows, and you know, sir; but nothing like what there is behind that -there ‘opening,’” pointing with his finger, “and if I was you, my dear -good gentleman, I would not stir a peg to see any further. We should not -like to see any harm come to you. If it had been anybody else we should -not have minded a bit; we would as soon given him a chuck to Nick as look -at him, and been glad o’ the job, and ground his bones to powder, and -played at football with his skull.” I said, “Well now, Palmer, if you do -not mind, we will see.” - -“If you do,” said Palmer, “and get into any trouble, or into a place out -of which you cannot get back, you must not blame us.” “Will you do what -you can to help me?” I said. “Oh yes, we will do what we can for you in -any way.” “All right,” I said. I now took out my pocket knife and began -to cut and pull some of the paper and old rags off what now was appearing -to be a door. The old witches, “hags,” and grey-bearded, bloated, and -thin, wretched-looking men, and swarms, almost, of poor emaciated -children, eagerly closed round me to see what it would end in. The -stinking fire was stirred up to cause fresh light; and in the meantime I -kept cutting away, which was no light task, for there were many old knots -and rusty nails to be faced. Some of the poor children cried out, “By -Jove, it is a door! Wonder where it leads to?” “All right,” I said, -“wait and we will see.” And I worked, tugged, and toiled, sometimes in -the midst of breathless silence, and at others in a gipsy noise loud -enough to drown my own voice and noise of my tinkering. At last the door -seemed to be pretty loose. Nervousness and fear seemed to creep over me -more than ever as I neared the end. Questions kept popping up in my -mind, “Where will it lead to? If it did not lead to an opening and -daylight,” I said to myself more than once, “I am a done man.” “Lord -help me,” I said, as I put my hand to the door to push it or pull it one -way or the other. At last I pulled it open. There was the faintest -light to be seen from somewhere, but I could not tell where. All the -gipsies came nearer to me, and I said to one of the strongest of them, -“Hold my hand, for I do not know where it will lead to. It will either -be to my ruin or your happiness.” “We will hold you,” cried one and all; -“you shan’t fall at any rate.” “Thank the Lord for this,” I said, and -with much trembling I took the first step, not knowing whether it was to -be downhill or uphill. In putting my feet out I felt my toe go against -something hard. I kicked again and again, and found it to be a stone -step. I then put my foot upon it. The gipsies were still at my coat -tail. I then put both feet upon it, and felt at the walls, which seemed -to widen out. A little more light was manifest, but still I could not -tell where it came from. I kept groping and feeling my way step after -step. More light of a yellowish tint, not of the cold moonlight hues, -was now becoming more visible. The gipsies, especially the children, -began to get eager to see the end of it. First one and then another of -them said more than once, “The light seems nice; I wonder where it comes -from?” The old gipsies were, with this light, made to look most -horrible, and slunk back, but the children stuck to me. A great wide -passage was now manifest; and altogether an uphill work was becoming more -pleasant and cheerful. The gipsy children seemed to be round me by -hundreds, and for the life of me I could not tell where they came from. -A more miserable lot could not be imagined. Some of the children cried -out, “Governor, it seems a long way to the top; how far is it?” Another -twenty steps brought us to the top in full face to the rising sun; -singing birds filling the air with their chanting; lovely flowers and -beautiful mansions, blossoming trees rich with bud, blossom, and -fragrance; groves, parks, and long walks without end. The deer were -bounding, cattle grazing, and the big lambs were calling out for their -mothers. In the long winding distance, at the top of a hill, stood a -golden city, whose mansions and palaces were built of large blocks of -precious stones, with an arch spanning over the whole composed of a -succession of rainbows, with rays of glory indescribable, anxiously -forcing their way to add lustre to the scene through the occasional -openings to be seen in the illuminated arch. My heart was so overjoyed -at having arrived at the top, and seeing vast crowds of little gipsy -children brought out of darkness, I began to sing out lustily, with tears -in my eyes— - - “There’s a land that is fairer than day, - And by faith we can see it afar. - For the Father waits over the way, - To prepare us a dwelling-place there.” - -Ami as if by magic, the children sang touchingly the chorus, in which I -joined— - - “In the sweet by and by, - We shall meet on that beautiful shore; - In the sweet by and by, - We shall meet on that beautiful shore.” - -The singing of this tune woke me up, and for the life of me I could not -tell where I was, or whether I was in the body or out of it. This matter -was soon settled by the “boots” knocking at my door, telling me that it -was a quarter-past five o’clock. I partook of a hasty breakfast, and by -six o’clock, with the musical bells chiming round me, I was among the -gipsies in the fair, some of whom were settling down to their quarters, -others were grumbling, and in not a few instances rows were brewing, -owing to the space allotted to them not being up to their anticipation. -On my way from my lodging to the town I passed a number of most wretched -spectacles drawn by donkeys and ponies, fit for the knacker’s yard. - -Upon a tumble-down donkey-cart covered over with sticks and old sheeting, -drawn by a donkey dressed in harness not worth sixpence, which was tied -together with string and pieces of rope, there were women and six poor -half-dressed, half-starved, dirty, ragged children. The sight was most -pitiable. The little dirty faces, with matted hair, peering through an -opening in the rotten calico canvas, reminded me of a nest of young -rabbits, rather than human beings with immortal souls, endowed with -reason, thought, and intellect, and in the image of God, peeping out of -their hole among the dead grass. Oh! what a contrast, I thought, to the -architectural grandeur and beauty of the mansions on either hand as they -passed through the streets. Why and wherefore is the cause? But I must -not stop now to inquire. This problem I must work out later on. - -The toll clerk with an amount of tact managed to squeeze the two hundred -and twenty vans and shows into the square, keeping fairly the worst kinds -in the background, and the best-looking with their faces towards -“Lunnun.” “I have,” said the clerk, “much to do to get them all placed. -After I have done all I can, I cannot keep them from rows and quarrels. -Sometimes it is worse than what you see now. There are many more vans -than there are in the fair this morning.” I said to him, “How many do -you think there are here this morning?” “Well, sir, there are -considerably over two hundred. I counted early yesterday afternoon in -one string between here and Somers Town, a hundred and seventy-two vans, -and others have been coming since.” At this juncture he spied a gipsy -with his van and establishment taking up their abode in the churchyard -under the tall trees. He said, “I must be off to stop them.” I followed -him to see how the bronzed old gipsy would take to his veto. Fortunately -he took to the dismissal with good grace, and more than once said, “Thank -you, my good gentleman.” This is one of the characteristics of the old -romantic gipsies, when they want anything by favour; seeing that it is -not in their power to get it either by craft or bounce, they can ask with -much grace, and in this way they often succeed. After the toll clerk was -gone I had a chat with the gipsy—who, to his credit, had good cattle -between the shafts of his vans. He said that he had at home—but did not -say where his home was—eleven grey horses, out of his stock of thirteen. -I took his statement with a pinch of salt, and moved off, leaving him to -mumble over a joke I left behind, while he changed his quarters. - -Not far from this scene there stood at a van door a tall, bony, -dirty-looking man, in an almost nude state, and a lot of dirty, ragged -children, and the “old woman” washing, hard and fast, some dirty linen in -a tin bucket. It struck me that in this case, as with others, dispatch -was the soul of business, and I loitered about to see what “shifts” this -gipsy family would adopt. Scrub, rub, and a dash into the hot water went -the dirty linen. After two or three good rubs and tussels with the linen -in the bucket, she pulled it out and wrung it as if she was “screwing its -neck off.” When this was over she gave it a good shake, and handed it to -her “old man” without drying. The “old man” retired for a few minutes, -and then he appeared with a dirty white shirt on his back, sticking more -closely to his body than would have been agreeable to most people. -Fortunately the warm sun was shining, and by exposing it to the sun’s -rays during his pacing backwards and forwards in the square for an hour, -he presented a better spectacle. At night upon the stage, with his -painted face and coloured pantaloons, his grimy, smoke-coloured shirt -passed off fairly well. I could see that the poor children, who stood -round the door with matted hair, were to have the same measure dealt out -to them that was dealt out to the “old man.” I am not at all surprised -to find that diseases of various kinds should be creeping among our -present-day gipsies, the bulk of whom wash and dry their linen on their -limbs and bodies as above. Among the old gipsies rheumatic diseases were -not known, but it is not so now; and it cannot be wondered at when we -take into account that men, women, and children cause their bodies to do -in wet weather what the “clothes horse” should do, and in fine weather -what the “clothes line” should do. Such is “gipsy life” in this -nineteenth century, in this our enlightened England. - -One of the horses belonging to one of the gipsy vans had had nearly -enough of it; and for the life of him the gipsy could not get the poor -old horse to stir a peg, except to kick, and this it could do as well, if -not better, than a “four-year-old.” I expected every minute to see the -van over on its side, and the woman and children sprawling in the road. -Fortunately, a few fellow-gipsy brothers put their shoulders to the -wheel, and wheeled it off to right quarters. - -In other vans “rock” and “toffy” making was going on with vengeance. -I’ll take one case to show the kind of process carried out, and what -town’s children and others have to swallow during feasts, mops, and fair -time. - -Surrounded by several vans and carts there was a fire in an old bucket, -round which stood men, women, and a lot of poor little gipsy roadside -Arabs. Presently into the pot over the fire—a large old kettle—a gipsy -woman puts a lot of the commonest dirty-looking sugar, and some butter, -or “butterine,” and when it has begun to boil, one of the children stirs -it with a dirty stick for a time. After the boiling process is over, it -is taken out and handed to the man or woman, as the case may be, to be -“pulled” or twisted into the long walking-stick shape you see on some of -the low, dirty gingerbread stalls attending fairs. A light-coloured -“rock,” or “toffy,” is made by adding lighter-coloured sugar and flour. - -The light-coloured “rock” and the dark-coloured “rock” are then mixed and -twisted together, forming what is called the “scrodled rock.” The mixing -process gives the hands of the mixers a clean appearance inside, -contrasting strongly with the back of the hands, which at times, with -this class of folks, resemble very much in colour the backs of tortoises -or toads. George Herbert, in the “Fuller Worthies” Library, might almost -have seen and tasted some such like, when he wrote— - - “A sweetmeat of hell’s table, not of earth.” - -A few yards from this manufacturing process there were man, woman, and -two little children “as clean as pinks,” and a boy, who was scrubbing -himself, head and shoulders, down to the waist, till he was “all of a -white lather.” This case, and the few others I saw of a similar nature, -were the “new comers on the road.” I expect to hear of their rising as a -cow’s tail grows. - -A laughable incident occurred while I was standing by watching the boy -scrub at his head as if he meant to fetch the hair up by “the roots.” -From beneath one of the vans a big black dog sallied forth down the fair -with a piece of white paper in its mouth, carefully wrapped up, and much -resembling a parcel of sandwiches. No sooner was the dog in the fair -than some of the gipsies were after it, crying out, “Stop it! Stop it!” -At first the dog would not listen; ultimately it stopped. The gipsies -came up to the frightened animal. Everybody expected the dog had run -away with something valuable in the shape of eatables, if nothing else. -One big gipsy cried out to the dog, “Down with it! Down with it!” The -dog did as it was told. This was no sooner done than the gipsy picked up -the paper, and began to carefully unwrap it, when, to the horror of the -gipsy and a few others who had taken part in the chase, and roars of -laughter of onlookers, it turned out to be a paper containing a few -bloaters’ heads and other unpalatable trifles. The parcel was dropped -much quicker than it was picked up. Another laugh burst forth. The -huntsmen pinched their noses and slunk away. One said, “I thought he had -got somebody’s grub.” - -I now came upon Mr. Bachelor Nabob Brown, a chimney-sweeping gipsy—and a -most curious stick he was—in charge of a weighing machine and a few other -trifles. He was just turning out of his bed, which had been in his cart, -covered with a yellow sheet. Nine o’clock was the time he had promised -overnight to be ready for a stroll. He got up, gave himself a rub, yawn, -and a stretch, and set to work lighting his fire in the usual gipsying -drawing-room fireplace among the other gipsies. Of course washing was -out of the question. He boiled his water, stewed his tea, frizzled his -bloater, and then set to work upon his breakfast with a strong smell of -paraffin oil pervading the whole of the contents of his “larder.” Nabob -Brown combed his hair with his fingers, threw on his patched and ragged -old pilot Chesterfield, and off we started for a tramp to the outskirts -of Oxford. We had not gone far before he began to apologize for not -being dressed as a gentleman, and said, “You don’t mind, sir, do you, at -me walking along with you in this cut and figure?” I said, “Oh no, I do -not mind in the least. Very few know me personally in Oxford, but it -would make no difference to me if they did. If it would help on the -cause of the gipsy children, I would as soon have my dinner with a gipsy -as with a prince.” “All right, my friend,” said Mr. Nabob Brown; “I’m -glad to hear you say that. I know who I am talking to.” In going along -I said to Nabob, “I should like to know a little about your family.” -“All right,” he said; “that’s just what I wanted. Let me tell you, sir, -that the ‘Browns’ are amongst the best families in the land. In our -family are dukes, lords, M.P.’s, and squires without end, and never a one -has done anything wrong. They are all high-class and first-rate folks. -In everything that is good a ‘Brown’ starts it. I feel proud that my -name is ‘Brown.’” I said, “I thought Smith was not a bad name.” “They -are nothing like the ‘Browns,’” said Nabob. “Smiths stand second, Browns -stand first. I shall come in for a fortune one of these days before -long, and I shall not forget you. Will you give me your address?” I -said, “Yes, with pleasure; I shall be glad to have the prospect of a -fortune again for my children’s sake.” “All right, give me your card.” -I handed him my card, and the poor “cracked” fellow wrapped it up and put -it into his pocket. - -Mr. Nabob Brown stopped, rubbed and scratched in the street, and -commenced again as follows: - -“I am one of fifteen children, and the only one living, thank God. My -father was George Brown, who served thirty-five years in the Fifty-second -Light Infantry. He was present at the battles of Waterloo, Salamanca, -and Badajoz; after which he was pensioned off. He spent three years in -Chelsea Hospital, and was then taken to the soldiers’ madhouse at -Norwich, and there he died. People say that I am getting like him, but -they are fools and don’t know what they are talking about. I’m as -sensible as any man in the country—don’t you think so?” I told him I did -“not like answering questions of that kind without longer experience.” -“My father was of a drunken family, and it was in one of his drunken fits -when he tumbled me downstairs and put out one of the joints of my -backbone.” We now came to a dead stand opposite one of the colleges and -near to some large houses. People big and little, gentle and simple, -were passing to and fro. He now turned his back towards me and bent his -bead low to the wall. He then turned up the tail ends of his old coat, -exhibiting his under ragged garments, and took hold of my hand and poked -my finger into a small dent in the slight bend upon his back. Of course -I consented. He next took off his old hat and poked my finger into a -hole upon his head. All the time his tongue was going at the rate of -“nineteen to the dozen.” Mr. Nabob’s arms began to swing backwards and -forwards, and he shouted out, “I live by excitement; without it I should -die.” Children began to stare and gather round us, but before doing so I -said, “I suppose you cannot stand drink?” “Oh dear no! I have been -teetotal these twenty-five years, on and off, and am religions in my -heart, but I doesn’t always show it. I goes to church sometimes. I’m a -Church of England man; but then you know, sir, we in our profession -cannot do without telling lies sometimes. I’m giving up all bad things, -women and everything else. If it was not for being religious at my heart -I should have been dead long ago.” He now began to “dance and caper -about the road.” Fortunately we were close to the grounds round Christ -Church College, and very few saw his megrims. - -We had now arrived opposite a small conservatory with some beautiful -flowers in view. The pretty flowers sent Mr. Bachelor Nabob Brown off at -a tangent. “Oh!” said Mr. Brown, “I love flowers. It is delightful to -be among flowers. I could die among flowers. I’m a first-rate -gardener.” The names he gave to some of the commoner sorts of flowers he -saw were anything but Latin or English. The small rivulet, green -meadows, tall trees, pleasant walks, with the burning sun shining -overhead, seemed to have excited Mr. Nabob’s dormant artistic qualities, -and he commenced to give me specimens of his musical abilities. After he -had done he said, “I never had any regular training, or I should have -been one of the ‘stars;’ as it is I can play the fiddle, concertina, -piano—in fact, I should not be stuck fast at anything. I consider myself -to be a regular musician, and no mistake. Oh, my back and my head, sir. -Let us sit down for a chat under one of these trees.” “All right,” I -said, “I am quite ready.” Several gentlemen and ladies paced backwards -and forwards, no doubt wondering who we were or what our movements meant. -Maybe, for aught I know, that some of them thought that we had dynamite -designs upon Christ Church College; or that we were “two poor wandering -lunatics.” Mr. Nabob Brown next poured forth his other -qualifications—adaptability and practice in photography, jewelling, -shop-keeping, selling tobacco, sweets, and fruits. His recital of these -things brought him upon his feet again; and he shouted out with his arm -aloft, “Would you believe me, sir? I lost over a hundred pounds in -‘dissolving views.’” I told him jokingly that I was not surprised at it. -“There were so many wicked men in the world who have not brains and force -of character sufficient to carry them through the difficulties of life, -and therefore their only course was to get upon somebody’s back and allow -themselves to be carried to a safe place. I have seen many men of this -class in my time.” “Right you are, sir. That is just how I have been -served through life. I have not only had my brains run away with, but my -coat off my back; aye, and one time a big black dog ran away with a piece -of my leg. Oh! oh!” shouted Brown, with a twinged face, “gipsies are -terrible devils. We are a bad lot, but I don’t like to tell everybody, -nor do I like to say all I know, or they would be down upon me at the -next fair, and I should have no peace in my life; I might as well be -hung. Give it the policemen; I don’t like them chaps, they are no good -to anybody. Blow me!” Nabob cried out as we came to a sudden stop on the -road, “I left my old umbrella in my cart when we started, and I’ll bet a -farthing it will be gone when we get back; let’s be off.” So we began to -trot off together, leaving the austere, grim walls of Christ’s College to -stand the rude and rugged storms of centuries from without, and the -assaults of dogmas, creeds, divinity, law, philosophy, moral force, and -logic from within. On our way he told me of the tricks practised by the -stall-keeping gamblers upon their wheels of fortune, and the hoodwinking -process the policemen undergo at fair times. - -We had now arrived at the post office, and Brown said, “Just one word -before we part,” and I chimed in, “Perhaps never to see each other -again.” “I say, sir, I quite agree with you that all our travelling -children should receive a free education as you propose, and the -publicans should be made to pay for it. Good-bye, sir, and God bless -you,” and away he popped out of sight into the post office, and I -sauntered into the fair. - -In charge of a gambling cocoa-nut concern I noticed a gipsy named I—, -with his hand tied up, which he said was brought about by -blood-poisoning. In the van were two brothers and one sister. Connected -with this family there were seventeen brothers and sisters, together with -father and mother, making a total of nineteen human beings. And only one -out of the whole could read and write, and this one, to his everlasting -credit, had early in life given up gipsying and put himself out as an -apprentice to engineering, and during his apprenticeship he had, unaided -by any teacher except his workmates, taught himself to read and write. -All honour to such men, be they gipsies, canal boatmen, or brickmakers. -As I noticed his good brother, who had run over to the fair for a day to -assist his lame brother and their sister, I could not help seeing the -vast contrast between the two men. Self-help and education had raised -one from a gipsy tramp to the position of an engineer at a salary of -thirty-five shillings per week, with his nights to himself. - -I next turned again to my friend George Smith, the gipsy, who, with his -wife and six children, were attending to their cocoa-nut concern. George -Smith was just having his lunch, to which he invited me. Of course I -joined him, notwithstanding the crush of the fair. Smith did not know of -more than one gipsy among all their relations who could read and write. - -Early in the morning I paid a visit to one of the vans, and there saw a -woman and her six little girls, and one little boy about three years old, -in a most wretched, dirty condition. They were thin, and some of their -young faces looked prematurely old. She knew me, and the poor slave of a -mother seemed ashamed of their condition. I gave them a lot of pictures, -cards, &c., and left them to make their way. It was heartrending to see -the poor pretty children scan the pictures, anxious to know what they -were about, but unable to tell a letter. Despair seemed to come over -their faces, as they turned them over and over and from side to side. -Later on in the afternoon I again paid a visit to them. Of course in the -morning I was behind the scenes; but in the afternoon more phases -appeared; they were in “public.” In the van was wretchedness and misery, -and all the other evils attending such a course of life; but on the -“boards” they were fairies, dressed in lively pretty colours, dancing, -skipping, and riding about, not from love, but from pressure and force. -You could see as the six pretty children danced about that their smiles -were forced. I saw them about six months since, and I now noticed a -marked haggard change in their features. The husband had the “light end -of the stick.” He fared well, and did well, and worked but little. I -could hear the chaps round me say of the mother, as she moved to and fro -upon the platform, or outdoor stage, and whose fanciful dresses were none -too long, that it was her “legs” that drew the crowds round their -establishment. Others said she was “well limbed.” She certainly was -more presentable in the evening than in the morning. In my opinion it -was the little girls who were the mainstay of the concern. - -I could not help noticing the vast number of clergymen moving about. The -prettily dressed, and not bad-looking woman had charms for some of -them—old and young. She had a good head of black hair, as most gipsies -have. Probably her witching eyes and tresses tickled the fancies of the -clerical onlookers. One grave-looking clergyman walked up the fair very -sedately, not seeming to notice such nonsense, but I could see him -glancing out of the corner of his eye at the woman and her children as -they danced about. It may be that he was there for the same purpose as I -was, viz., to see both sides of gipsying, the evil and the good. If such -was the case, I am sure that he found it like the Irishman found his -wife, nearly “all bad and no good.” - -In the fair, and with smiling looks, pleasant tongue, and busy hand, was -Mr. Wheelhouse, the Oxford city missionary, trying to sell his heavenly -books. A few came and looked, and turned away, notwithstanding the low -prices at which he offered his soul-saving wares. Trash! bosh! Dash and -a splash into the Oxford English gipsying was what the crowd wanted, and -some of them had it to their heart’s content, with shadows of the -morrow’s sorrows hanging over them as they dived deep into sin. -Occasionally the missionary would have a customer, which caused him to -smile like a full-blown rose. - -The good old man, as he gave me a parting grip, said, “God bless you in -your noble work. I’ve long wanted to see you. God bless you, good-bye,” -and he gave me an extra squeeze, and I then jostled into the crowd. - -I noticed three or four of the most respectable gipsy-looking men -soliciting subscriptions. It could not be for taxes, I thought, for -gipsies never pay taxes—at least those who do not hawk and don’t live in -houses. I inquired what their loss was, and I was told that a young -woman, one of the mainstays of one of the establishments in the fair, had -been burnt to death the previous week in one of the vans. The organ, -van, and contents had gone to the winds, and the poor woman’s charred -black remains consigned to the cold, cold sod, and tears and black crape -left to tell the tale. How she came to her untimely end was not fairly -cleared up at the inquest. When the great book is opened it will be made -clear. I gave them some silver, and when they asked in what name it was -to be entered, of course I told them, and they opened their eyes with -wondrous curiosity and amazement. I shook hands with them, and for some -minutes I was lost in the crowd. I suppose they had been told by wicked -outsiders that I had nothing but hard words for the gipsies and -travellers. - -A big, idle, hulking-looking fellow of a gipsy now “boned” me. He wanted -me to lend him a shilling—as he said—for his wife and children. I -tackled him. I asked him what he was doing in the fair. He said he was -a collier out of work. I asked him to let me look at his hands. After -shuffling about a little he let me look at his hands. I could see -plainly that he was not a collier. I said, “You have not had a -‘coal-pick’ in your hands to work with it in your life.” At this he -seemed to get into a rage. I said, “The marks you show me have been done -upon the ‘wheel of fortune’ in the ‘stone jug.’” This he did not deny. -When I asked him about the prices colliers have per ton for getting coal -he was nonplussed. I said, “Now, before I give you anything, I want to -see your wife and four children,” and away we started to find them, on -their way to Banbury. I turned back; but still the fellow was boring me -to lend him a shilling, and he vowed and vowed that he would repay me the -amount. At this juncture he bolted into a stationer’s shop for a piece -of paper, upon which he wanted me to write my address, so that he might -send me the shilling back. I followed him into the shop, and quite a -scene ensued. The gipsy tramp could neither beg a piece nor buy it. At -last, after ten minutes’ wrangling over a piece of paper, the shopman -gave him an old envelope, and we came out of the shop. Nothing would -serve his purpose but that I was to write my address. So to please, and -to get rid of the ignorant, idle, dirty scamp, I wrote upon the recently -begged old envelope, “Jupiter Terrace, Moonlight Street, Starland.” The -fellow wrapped it up very carefully, and put it into his pocket, and I -then gave him sixpence and left him, telling him that he was to send the -amount in postage stamps, as I could not get post-office orders cashed at -the address I had given him. I expect the sixpence and the gipsy tramp -are on the wing still. - -In the fair there were over fifteen gambling tables—_i.e._ tables upon -which there were all kinds of gipsy nick-nacks and fairy trifles, some of -which were sold and others gambled for. On the table there was a large -painted wheel, something like a clock-face or compass, with a swinging -finger or hand. Round the outer edge of the wheel stood a lot of things, -chiefly ornamental children’s toys in fern cases, fancy boxes, and other -ornaments. Those who wanted to “try their luck” had to put down a penny -opposite the thing they fancied. When several had done this, and the -pennies were studded about the wheel, then swing went the finger round -and round till it stopped—seldom where the pennies were. The finger -seemed to either just go past the mark or to stop short of it. All -blanks and no prizes seemed to be the order of the day. I saw one lady -dressed in silk, with a lot of young women, girls, and boys round her, -gamble several shillings away on the “wheel of fortune.” It was a most -pitiable sight to see the vast numbers of well-dressed young persons and -children receiving their first lessons in gambling, in the shadows of -churches and colleges. I was told, by those who knew, that the “wheels -of fortune” and “shows” made more money than all the other things in the -fair put together. It was a sunny fair for the gambling stall-keepers, -but not for the patron saint under whose auspices it was held. I rather -fancy the saints of bygone days, to whom the colleges and churches were -dedicated, would look down upon the assembly with abashed countenances at -the work of sin going on under the shadow of the Oxford sacred precincts, -and, it would seem, had retired in favour of Discordia, Momus, Mars, et -Pluto. The big and little gamblers could win when the proprietors -thought well to allow the smiles of fortune to descend upon them. -Fortune’s smiles consisted in the pressing of the stall-keeper’s thigh -against a stud, that operated underneath the top of the table against the -swivel upon which the finger or hand was placed, and he could stop it -whenever he liked. After many blanks he would let one of his fools -occasionally win, just to encourage others. - -I was put up to this move by one of the gipsies, but with strict -injunctions that I was not to let the “cat”—_i.e._, my informant—“out of -the bag.” When I told my friend the gipsy that gambling of this kind was -against the law, “Yes,” he said, “and the ‘bobbies’ are down upon us in -some places for it; and they would no doubt have been so here, but they -have been ‘squared.’” When he talked about “squaring,” I thought I would -“try” him and “prove” him, but found him to be blank. I found out that -this “squaring” process consisted in blinding the policemen with -“silver-dust.” The fact is this kind of gambling is growing to an -alarming extent in the country under the policemen’s noses, and this they -know right well, and take no steps to stop it. Of course the Oxford -police as a body of men could not be held accountable for the dereliction -of duty by a few of them. As a whole they are a fine lot of village -soldiers. - -I next turned my step towards one of the shows. There was upon the -platform, or stage, a sharp little fiery woman beating the drum—which -sounded like a kitchen table—and bawling out till she was hoarse, “Now, -ladies and gentlemen, if you want to see the best show in the fair, now -is your time; they are just going to begin. Come up quick, and take your -places,” and she banged again at the old drum as if she was going to -knock the bottom out. Beside the sharp, ready-tongued woman stood -“Boscoe,” dressed, daubed, and painted like a Red Indian, whose rough -visage and broken nose had the appearance of having been in many a -“fisticuffing” encounter. Although he was daubed over, I recognized him -as one with whom I had had a long chat on Sunday afternoon, and who -pleasantly received some of my books for his children. Boscoe noticed me -in the crowd, and gave me a few of his sly winks while the megrims were -going on. Close to “Boscoe” stood a tall, wretched, half-starved, -red-faced looking man, the picture of a beer-barrel in his face, with -red-herring tendencies from the shoulders downwards. On the ground there -were his wretched, lantern-jawed wife and their six ragged children. -Their home was a donkey cart covered over with rags, and a bed of rags -was what those eight human beings had to lie upon, and I could have said -with Burns— - - “Oh, drooping wretch, oppressed with misery!” - -and as she stood cowering and trembling I could have said with Crashaw, -“Oh, woman!— - - “‘Upwards thou dost weep; - Heaven’s bosom drinks the gentle stream.’” - -I should like to have whispered in her ear, “Weep on, poor woman, weep -on. Weep on, poor children, weep on. Your tears will bring down the -mighty arm of the Great Living Father, which shall deliver you from this -wretched tramping life of misery and degradation. Look up! look up! His -hand draweth nigh. The Friend of the children hears the children’s -cries, and woe be to the nation or people who step in to prevent the -gipsy children receiving the embraces of a loving heavenly Father.” - -After the performance “Boscoe” came off the stage and invited me to go -into the “show,” which invitation I accepted, and was led in by the side -door. I witnessed “Boscoe’s” tricks, such as eating fire, making leaden -bullets, putting a red-hot poker down his throat, and drawing a red-hot -bar across his tongue, and the bending of red-hot iron bars with his -feet. “There are dodges in every trade, except rag-gathering,” said the -old rag-woman the other day, as she sat by the side of the brook, wetting -her rags before she sold them. The acrobat performances of a poor boy -about twelve were cruel in the extreme. After one of his movements I -could see that the poor thin-faced lad was suffering intense pain by his -twinging and limpy walk. This poor specimen of humanity could not read -or write a sentence. To bend, twist, twirl, and contort the limbs and -bones of a poor child to bring smiles upon the faces of fools—for they -are no better who witness such exhibitions—is hellish, and money gotten -in this way provides those engaged in it with “workhouse” and “spittles” -uniform. Other performances, such as a pony telling fortunes, &c., -brought the entertainment to a close. On coming away old “Boscoe” came -off the stage to shake hands with me among the crowd, which circumstance -seemed to puzzle some of the bystanders. - -I had a turn round with the gingerbread and toy stall-keepers, and I was -not long among them before I found out two old “backsliders,” one of whom -was from Northampton, and until two years ago was a “member of a class.” -Now, with her son, she was tramping the country, and attending fairs and -races in the daytime, and sleeping under their stall at night! A chat -with her about old times, and the “blessed seasons” she once had, and the -peace of mind she once enjoyed, brought scalding tears to her eyes, as -copiously as if I had been talking to her of the death of a darling -rosy-checked, curly-headed little boy, whose little wax taper flickered -out as its soul was being wafted to Paradise in the midst of a convoy of -angels. The good woman with quivering lips said, “Do you remember giving -me, sir, at Long Buckby, a little book and a picture card?” I said, -“Yes.” “Well, I sent them to my son, who is a soldier in South Africa, -and they pleased him very much.” I could see that I could press the -subject a little nearer home, and I said to her, “How do you get on with -this kind of life? How do you manage to say your prayers at night?” -“Well,” she said, “this kind of life is not the right thing, and I am not -what I ought to be; but somehow or other I say my prayers at night, and -feel safer after it. I hope to give up travelling and settle down -again.” While moistened sorrow was reddening her eyes, I said in -substance if not in words— - - “’Tis a star about to drop - From thine eye, its sphere; - The sun will stoop to take it up.” - -With a deep, deep-drawn sigh she bade me good-night several times over, -and the curtain dropped. - -I now came upon a man and woman sitting at a weighing machine. (I might -state that I was weighed at two different weighing machines in the fair. -Nabob Brown’s machine put me down at eleven stone ten pounds, and F—’s -machine showed that I weighed twelve stone and eleven pounds.) Both -looked above the ordinary kind of gipsies. The clean, good-looking woman -was nursing a baby, and trying the weight of “ladies and gentlemen,” and -the man was “ringing” his cheap fashionable sticks off to those who would -try “three throws a penny.” - -This couple, I soon found out, were Primitive Methodist “backsliders.” -Their names were F— although they were known among the travellers as W—. -His father was one of the oldest local preachers in the Brinklow -district. He had worked hard in the cause of the Great Master, and had -succeeded in raising a “Band of Hope,” two hundred members strong, in one -of the London districts; but in the fulness of his heart, and in what -turned out to be an evil moment for him, he admitted another “brother” as -a co-secretary, who, instead of helping my friend the gipsy in the good -work, supplanted him, and “collared” the tea-cake, at which the committee -winked. This worked up the tender feelings of my gipsy friend to such a -pitch that he withdrew from the society he had raised, and took the -downhill turning, and in this course both he and his wife are, at the -time of writing this, gipsying the country. Richard Crashaw says— - - “These are the knotty riddles - Whose dark doubts - Entangle his lost thoughts - Fast getting out.” - -I asked my friend F— a few questions about the gipsies he had been mixed -up with. Among other questions was the following. “Now, Mr. F—, how -many gipsies and travellers have you known, during your travels, to -attend a place of worship on Sundays?” “Well, sir,” said Mr. F—, “you -ask me a straightforward question and I will give you a straightforward -answer. I do not remember ever having seen one.” I said, “This state of -things is truly awful.” “Yes,” he said; “it is no more awful than true. -I’m getting tired of it, and I think I shall settle down this next -winter.” - -A long conversation with them both brought out tears, downcast looks, and -sighs, which contrasted somewhat strangely with the yelling “fools,” -“clowns,” and simpletons in the fair. I gave them and their children -some books, pictures, &c., and they in return gave me a walking stick as -a “keepsake,” which I shall preserve; and after shaking hands several -times over, I toddled off into the fair, to wander among the vans with my -“keepsake” stick in my hand, gently tapping the gipsy children as they -turned up their smiling faces. - -It was now about eleven o’clock, the buzz and din of fools, wise men and -simple, was getting gradually less. The echo was getting fainter and -fainter. The crowd was thinning. Policemen seemed to be numerous; the -gipsies dogs were sneaking from under the vans, and prowling after bones -and thrown-out trifles. The swearing of drunken gipsies was heard more -distinctly than ever. The gipsy women—some of whom had “had a little too -much”—were loud in their oaths and hard words. In many instances blows -threatened to be the outcome. Children were screaming, and big sons and -daughters were quarrelling. - -Half-past eleven arrived, and the inmates of the two hundred and twenty -vans and shows, numbering about a thousand men, women, and children, were -bedding themselves down in their, in many instances, wretched abodes. As -I wandered among them at midnight hour I felt a cold chill of horror -creeping over me, and nightly dewdrops of sorrow forcing their way down -my face. To witness the sight I saw was enough to cause the blood to -freeze in any man’s veins. One of the most hellish sights upon earth is -a dirty, drunken, swearing woman putting her children to bed upon rags -undressed and unwashed, and with a flickering candle dying in the socket. -Fathers and mothers, sons and daughters all lying mixed together, -numbering on an average four, six, eight, ten, and twelve men, women, and -children, of all ages and sizes, in the space of a covered waggon, is -what ought never to be allowed in any civilized country, much less -Christian England, which spends millions in trying to convert the Indian, -civilize the savage, transform the Chinaman, Christianize the African, -and in preparing the world for the millennium which is to follow the -redeeming efforts of Christ’s followers. Oh! haste happy day, when -John’s vision shall dawn upon us with all its never-ending transcendent -splendour, tenderness, and heavenly reality. {161} - -“And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no -more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more -pain, for the former things are passed away.” - -Not half a dozen of this thousand human beings would be offering up an -evening prayer other than that of hell. The backsliding woman from -Northampton and her son had crept for the night under their stall. Of -course she had said her prayers, as she had told me, according to her -wont, by the side of their stall, or may be after she had drawn their -tent covering round them for the night; at any rate I left them to have -one other peep at my friends the gipsies F— before wending my way to my -lodgings. On arriving at the van I saw a flickering light in the -windows. The top window was nearly shut. The woman had had _a little -too much_, but not sufficient to drive her wild or out of her senses. -The husband had been “cross” with her. They had finished their midnight -meal. The poor little children were almost “dead sleepy,” and for a -minute or two all was quiet, and then I heard the backsliding mother -teaching the poor sleepy children as they knelt down in the van to -repeat, - - “Jesus, tender Shepherd, hear me, - Bless Thy little lamb to-night, - Through the darkness be Thou near me, - Keep me safe till morning light. - - “Let my sins be all forgiven. - Bless the friends I love so well, - Take me when I die to heaven, - Happy there with Thee to dwell. - For Jesus Christ’s sake. Amen.” - -They now fastened their van top door down and bade me good-night. Their -dog had snoozled under their home on wheels. Fogs and chills were -creeping round. The policeman’s tramp was to be heard, and with -death-like silence reigning I crept between the cold sheets to toss and -tumble about till the bright morning sun appeared, to fasten upon my -heart the sights of the previous day at the Oxford St. Giles’s fair, not -to be removed till eternity dawns upon my soul with heaven in full view. -To, as Marianne Farningham says in _The Christian World_— - - “A land where noises of the earth - For evermore shall cease, - Where the weary ones are resting - In the calm of perfect peace.” - - - - -Rambles Among the Gipsies at Hinckley Fair. - - -HINCKLEY September fair has for many long years been regarded as one of -the greatest “screw” fairs in England, and as a place where many gipsies -annually gather together to follow their usual and profitable occupation -of horse-dealing. At this fair they buy all the good-looking “screws” -they can put their hands upon, and palm and physic them off, temporarily, -as sound horses. They both, as one told me, “make their market” and -“make hay while the sun shines” at this fair. A thorough old “screw” -knows as if by instinct the scent of gipsy pantaloons; and by some means, -known only to a few, the horses find their way back into gipsy hands -again. - -With these facts before me, I was prompted to pay the gipsies a visit at -their Eldorado. The morning was like a spring morning. The sun shone -cheerfully, lovely, and warmingly, and was fast drying up the mud. On my -way to the station some slovenly waggoner had left some thorns in the -way, which I threw over the fence and passed on. I had not gone far -before I found, on a rising hill, a large piece of granite in the centre -of the road, which some idle and careless Johnny had left behind him. I -rolled it out of the way and sped along. On the top of the hill a coal -higgler had left a large lump of coal in the way—or it had jolted off -while he was asleep, or akin to it. This I deposited among the thistles -and nettles in the ditch, where it remained for some weeks. While I was -clearing these little troublesome and somewhat dangerous things out of -the way, the skylark was singing cheeringly and sweetly overhead as of -spring-time. My gipsy friends would say that these were forebodings and -prognostications, ruled by the planets, which indicated joys and -troubles, pleasure or sorrows for the travellers, according to the amount -of silver and gold there was floating about within their reach. How I -was guided by the Creator and the planets, and with what success I -pursued my course, will be seen before I have done rambling. - -At the station a poor woman was in a difficulty. She had promised to -have tea with her long-absent daughter, at the “feast” at four o’clock -the same day; but, unfortunately, the train would not take her to the -“feast.” Notwithstanding the remonstrances of the porters, the good -woman got into the train and said, “I shall go,” and she sped her way, -but not to the “feast.” - -A mother’s love sees no difficulties and fears no dangers, and will draw -more tears from the human fountain than any other force on this side -heaven. - -At Nuneaton there was the usual long time to wait; after which I duly -arrived at the “screw fair.” - -At the entrance there was gipsy — and his wife—with their six lost little -children, and the probability of a seventh being soon added—setting up -their stall. - -As I neared them, the poor woman met me and said, “I don’t know what to -do; I ought not to be here in this market-place like this. I am liable -to be down at any minute, and I don’t know one in the place. I wish our -Jim had settled down last spring. It is a hard lot to be a gipsy’s -wife,” and she began to cry. “Nobody knows what I have had to put up -with since I took to travelling. Why, bless you, dear sir, it would make -your heart ache if I were to tell you a tenth part of what myself and the -children have gone through. Between Hilmorton and Ashby St. Ledgers will -never be forgotten by me. It was a cold night, at the back end of the -year; rain came down in torrents. We had only an uncovered cart for all -of us to sleep in down one of the lanes. The children crouched under the -cart upon the ground like dogs. Our Jim, myself, and three of the -children slept, or lay down, in the body of the cart with our dripping -clothes on us. We drew an old torn woollen rug over us, and did the best -we could, shivering and shaking till morning. The children cried, and -were half starved to death. I cannot tell you, if I went down upon my -knees, of a twentieth part of our sufferings and hardships on that night, -and hundreds of other nights besides. I had a black eye, and was black -and blue on many parts of my body. Our Jim was very cruel at that time; -but he has not been so bad lately.” Her husband, Jim, is about three -parts a gipsy, or between a _posh_ and a Romany chal. He has six -children by his first wife, living with their grandmother near Epping -Forest, who are left to gipsy and take care of themselves. I don’t think -that he would be a bad sort of a man if it were not for “drink” and gipsy -companies. The only one who can read in this family is the poor woman, -and that is only very little. With tears in her eyes she said, “I often -read the little books you gave me, to our Jim at bedtime, till he cries, -sometimes like a baby. My heart is at times ready to break when I see -how our children are being brought up.” Business was beginning to look -up with them, and I made myself scarce for a time. Such sad, -heartrending instances of gipsy neglect, depravity, poverty, and -wretchedness would be impossible if our Government would carry out my -plans for reclaiming them, and Christians and philanthropists would do -their duty towards drawing them into the arms of the State and the fold -of God. - -I had not gone far before a terrible row was echoing in the air from a -stall lower down the market, between two gipsy women and a “potato -master.” The gipsy women said the potato master had promised them three -roasted potatoes for a halfpenny, and he had only given them two. A -fight, hair-pulling, and bloodshed seemed to be in a fair way for being -the outcome of this trumpery dispute, and would have taken place if the -policeman had not put in an appearance. As it was the fracas ended, for -the present, in nothing worse than threats of vengeance, oaths and curses -being poured upon the head of the potato seller without stint or measure. - -I now turned into the horse fair, and had scarcely got many yards before -I found myself roughly jostled in the midst of a gipsy row over a dog. -The gipsy horse-dealer had a lurcher dog with him, which was owned by a -collier. The collier said his dog had been stolen by some gipsies about -two months ago. High words, carrying mischief and blows, were flying -about thick and fast, and bade fair to end in bloodshed and the pulling -of the dog limb from limb. The dog preferred his old master to the -gipsy. This the gipsy saw, and at the approach of the police the pair -withdrew to a public-house to “square” matters. In the end the collier -came out with his dog, which he said “had won more handicaps than any dog -in the county,” and off he started home, with a smile instead of blood -and bruises upon his face, and the dog wagging its tail with delight at -his heels, much to the chagrin and discomfiture of the gipsy. - -While I was among gipsy horse-dealers I made the best use of my eyes for -a little time, and one of the first dodges of the gipsies was to hire a -country Johnny to ride one of their “screws” up and down the fair. Of -course the gipsies kept clear away, hoping thereby to draw the attention -of customers to the horse as one that a farmer had no further use for. -Johnny had very nearly sold the horse to a higgler, but “at the last -pinch” the question of reducing the amount Johnny was to sell it for, by -one pound, necessitated an appeal to the gipsy owner, who was not far -away. The higgler saw the dodge of the gipsy and he withdrew his offer. -The gipsy’s blessing was given, but the higgler did not mind it, and he -went to seek other quarters for horseflesh. - -A little higher up the fair there stood a man with two horses, who was -evidently a small farmer in somewhat needy circumstances. It might be, -for anything I knew, that he was wanting some money to pay for the -cutting of his corn, which was ripening very fast. The horses looked -like two thoroughly good sound horses, although aged. The price he asked -for the best-looking was £25, and £20 for the other. The gipsies saw -that this farmer was very anxious to sell. A big, good-looking gipsy -came up to him and said, “What for the big horse? Now, then, speak the -lowest price you will take for it in a word.” The farmer said, “£25.” -“Nonsense,” said the gipsy; “you must think everybody is either a fool or -asleep. I’ll give you a ‘fiver’ for it, and it is dear at that price.” -To one of his gipsy mates he said, “Jack, jump across it and ride it up -the fair.” Jack jumped across the horse, and off they started at a -rattling pace, almost frightening people out of their wits who were in -the way. After going up and down a few times several gipsies clustered -round the horse when it and its gipsy rider had cleared to outside the -throng of the fair. The group stood for a few minutes, and then the -horse was brought back and given up to the owner. The bargain was not -struck, and the gipsies cleared away. In the course of ten minutes the -horse began to get very restless, kick, and plunge about. Sometimes it -seemed as if it wanted to lie down. It would then begin to cringe and -kick, much to the danger of the lookers on. The owner said that a -horse-fly was on it somewhere. He stroked and tapped it, but all to no -purpose. Presently another gipsy came up, evidently one of the gang, and -said to the farmer, “Why, governor, your horse has either got the -‘bellyache’ or an inflammation; it will be dead in half an hour; what -will you take for it at all risks? Now, speak your lowest figure at -once.” The farmer said, very much “chopfallen,” “A little time ago I -asked £25, but I suppose I must take less than that now.” The gipsy saw -his chance, and at once said, “I will give you a ‘tenner,’ and not a -farthing more; say either ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ and I’m off.” The horse was -still kicking about. The farmer, much dejected, said, “I suppose you may -as well have it.” The bargain was struck and the kicking horse led away. -In going up the fair a group of gipsies clustered round it with evident -glee. A few hours afterwards I saw the horse led off quietly enough from -Hinckley fair at the heels of a gipsy. No doubt the horse had been -doctored by the gipsies in some way when they first took it in hand and -while it was surrounded by the first group. - -In another instance a countryman bought a horse of a “farmer-looking” -gipsy and paid the money, when, just before the horse was handed over to -the purchaser, another gipsy came upon the scene and claimed the horse as -his own, and, apparently, threatened vengeance and the gaol to be the -doom of the man who had sold the horse. The two gipsies now began to -pull each other about—without any bones being broken or blood flowing—and -to wrestle and struggle for the possession of the horse. The country man -had parted with his money and he had not got the horse, nor any prospect -of it. Another gipsy came up and suggested that the whole business -should be ended by the countryman having his money back except ten -shillings and the payment of “glasses round.” To this arrangement the -countryman assented, and they turned into the public-house to carry out -the bargain. What sharp men and fools there are in the world, to be -sure, to be met with on gipsy fair ground! - -As usual there were gipsy Smiths in the fair, and without much difficulty -I ran against one who was the proprietor of a popgun establishment and -two shillings’ worth of “toffy” stuck round a wheel of fortune. I had a -long chat with him between the “cracks,” and elicited the fact that he -had twice tried gipsying in Ireland, but it resulted each time in a drawn -game. He only visited four fairs. Irish soil and poverty are not suited -for the development of gipsying. The fact is, Irishmen are too wide -awake for the vagabond gipsies, and they are too much taken up with the -matter-of-fact everyday life to listen to idle lying, misleading, -romantic, wheedling tales designed to draw the money out of their -pockets. At one of the fairs in Ireland my gipsy friend took four -shillings, with a prospect of losing his tent, bag and baggage. If he -had been one of Arabi’s Egyptian ragamuffin soldiers frightened from -Tel-el-Kebir he could not have decamped more quickly from the land of St. -Patrick. The pleasure fairs of England and the fashionable squares of -London, and the watering-places on the coasts are places and palaces -where gipsy _kings_ and _queens_ thrive best. - -They fatten and thrive fairly well in some places in Scotland. One -cannot but smile sometimes at the ease with which some of them go through -the world. If their cleverness was turned into legitimate channels and -honourable business transactions, they would soon be a credit to -themselves and to us as a nation. It is a thousand pities that in these -educational days there are narrow-minded croakers who, under the guise of -friends—though in reality their worst enemies—are trying to keep the -gipsy children in ignorance; but their object is easily seen by those who -stand by and are looking quietly and thoughtfully on. These false -friends smile in gipsy faces while they are robbing them of their lore to -fill their empty coffers, and this the gipsies will see some day. - -Gipsy Smith and myself began to enumerate all the vans in the fair, -together with those living in them. There were about thirty gipsy vans, -shows, covered carts, &c. In one of the vans there were eight children -besides adults. In another van there were seven children besides adults. -Altogether we counted over one hundred travelling children in the fair, -not three of whom could read and write. Smith said that in all his -travelling experience he had not known either gipsy, showman, auctioneer, -or traveller ever attend a place of worship from fair grounds. “Sundays -as a rule,” said Smith, “are spent in travelling with their families from -town to town and from place to place.” Gipsy Smith lived and travelled -with his wife in a covered pony-cart. There were four “Aunt Sally” -stalls, which dealt out cigars to children for successful “throws.” The -gipsies are to-day doing more to encourage gambling and smoking than is -imagined by ninety-nine out of every hundred Englishmen. The former saps -the morals and the latter the minds and constitutions of those who are -simple enough to indulge in them. - -Before I had done talking with gipsy Smith the Salvation Army brass band -from Leicester, with “Captain” Roberts from the headquarters, one of the -staff officers, hailed within sight and sound, and as I had not had the -opportunity to spend an evening with the Salvation Army, to see and hear -for myself something of the proceedings, I joined in the procession as an -outsider. Some of the people made an eye-butt of me at which they -stared. Crowds were gathering round the band as it played in martial -strains—if Mr. Inspector Denning had been there from the House of Commons -better order could not have been kept— - - “Hark! hark! my soul, what warlike songs are swelling - Through all the streets and on from door to door; - How grand the truths these burning strains are telling - Of that great war till sin shall be no more.” - -And then the vocal band with their voices would join in singing the -choruses with exciting strains and gesture— - - “Salvation Army, Army of God, - Onward to conquer the world with fire and blood.” - -After this the brass band led the next verse— - - “Onward we go, the world shall hear our singing,” &c. - -After they had played this up the street for a time, the Army halted, and -Captain Roberts and one of the lieutenants addressed some words to the -“band” with fire and vigour running through them, to which the lads and -lasses, young men and maidens, saints and sinners, responded with the -“Old Methodist” and Primitive Methodist “Glory! glory! bless the Lord!” -“Hallelujah!” “Religion is the best thing in the world!” “Glory!” -another called out at the top of his voice. While the Army was giving -out no uncertain sound the brass band commenced, under marching orders -and exciting surroundings, reminding me of old times— - - “We are marching home to glory, - Marching up to mansions bright, - Where bright golden harps are playing, - Where the saints are robed in white.” - -And then, in obedience to the captain’s arms and orders, the lads and -lasses struck up with the chorus— - - “There’s a golden harp in glory, - There’s a spotless robe for you— - March with us to the hallelujah city, - To the land beyond the blue.” - -And in this way we kept on till we arrived at the “Salvation Warhouse.” - -A drunken man dressed in rags, but with an intelligent-looking face and a -high forehead, must of needs have a word to say, and for a time a -“branglement” seemed inevitable. However, with a little tact the storm -blew over. After a little work at “knee drill” in the warhouse the Army -rested for a short time to recruit their animal strength. While this was -going on I looked out for a couch upon which to rest my bones for the -night, and this I found out at Mr. Atkins’, in the market-place. I then -retired to get my dinner and tea in a coffee-tavern, of pork pie and -coffee, among “chaps and their girls” who had come to Hinckley for a -“fairing.” From thence I strolled to some gipsy vans on the green, to -find a number of the women washing clothes. My reception was in anything -but heavenly language. The gipsies at this fair were from Staffordshire, -nearly all of whom were unknown to me. If two of the women had wanted to -impress a stranger with the idea that they were of the poor unfortunate -gutter-scum class, they could not have used more disgusting language than -they did. I chatted with them and gave the children some books and -pennies, which brought sorrow from the lips of the gipsy parents for -having insulted me. After strolling about among the gipsies and vans in -the fair for a time, and distributing some cards and picture-books among -the gipsy, show, and other travelling children, I wended my way, guided -by the sound of “the light and leading” of the Salvation band, to the -“Salvation shop,” to spend a happy hour or two. I sat in one corner and -looked quietly on, which seemed to puzzle them. The leaders all had a -good stare at me; and first one and then the other would try to draw me -out with the usual question, to which I replied very politely and left -them in a maze. Captain Roberts told me over breakfast on the Sunday -morning that I had been a puzzle to the “band” all the previous evening; -and, except to “Captain Roberts” and the good family with whom I was -staying, I still remain so, for aught I know. - -The Army had commenced proceedings, and at the word of command began to -“fire red-hot shot at the devil.” It was a lively, exciting time. The -band struck up while they were sitting down— - - “My rest is in heaven, my rest is not here, - Then why should I murmur when trials are near? - Be hushed, my dark spirit, the worst that can come - But shortens my journey and hastens me home.” - -After this the “command” was for “knee-drill.” Certainly some of the -language and action of the soldiers was a little out of the “Friends’” -style of doing things. One soldier shouted out at the top of his voice, -with a large amount of enthusiasm, “Lord, help us to kill the devil, he -has troubled us long enough.” Another would call out, “Lord, the devil -has got some powder in his breast; light it with a match and blow his -head off;” to which another soldier would reply, “Give the devil string -enough and he will hang himself.” “Glory!” they all shouted. - -They now got off their knees, and big and little began to relate their -experiences, and to “tell what the Lord had done for them.” Our “good -brother” in his experiences said, “While I was serving the devil, he made -a sign-post of me for a rogue’s shop. Now I am a member of the Salvation -Army, with a bit of blue in my coat, which is better than having red on -the end of your nose.” “Thank God, it is good, brother; hallelujah!” -shouted a number of volunteers. - -One little boy said, in his experience with moistened cheeks, “Thank the -Lord; before I joined the Salvation Army I was a bad boy; but now I say -my prayers, and am trying to be good, and mean to get to heaven! Amen.” - -One little girl, with tears in her eyes, said, “Before I joined the -Salvation Army I used to be a naughty, bad girl; now I am praying to God, -and try to be good. O Lord, do save my poor mother, and my brothers and -sisters, for Jesus Christ’s sake. Amen.” A number of girls and boys -related their experiences in similar strains. One grey-headed old man, -with wet eyes and trembling emotion, thanked “God that He had put it into -the mind of one of the boys in the room to leave him a tract, and to -invite him to join the Salvation Army. It was the best thing that had -ever been done to him. Instead of serving the devil, who was a bad -master, he was serving God, and hoped to get to heaven. Bless God, and -the lads and lasses. Amen.” - -The captain now called on the “band” to strike up one of their “marches,” -which they did: - - “There is a better world, they say, oh so bright! - Where sin and woe are done away, oh so bright! - And music fills the balmy air, - And Angels with bright wings are there, - And harps of gold, and mansions fair, oh so bright!” - -And - - “The Lion of Judah shall break my chain, - And give us the victory again and again,” &c. - -I then wended my way to my lodging at Mr. Atkins’, all the better for -having spent a couple of hours with the “Salvation Army;” and with good -wishes for its success, I dozed away, with a “captain” of the Salvation -Army for a neighbour on one side, and a clergyman of the Church of -England on the other, feeling sure that between these two good Christian -centurion brothers, and under the eye of my Master, I was pretty sure to -land safely, after the tossings of the night, at the breakfast table in -the morning. During my midnight wandering in mist and dreamland, the -following aphorisms, thoughts, and suggestions floated before my brain. - -As the beautiful colours of the field, forest, dell, garden, and bower -are produced by the rays of the sun, so are the beautiful traits of -Christian life produced by the rays of Divine love, as exemplified and -manifested by the Son of God, our blessed Lord. - -The nation that allows her children of tender years to drift about at sea -without rescuing them from ruin, has decay, or “dry rot,” at work among -her timbers, and will before long become a wreck. - -The country that cannot find time to see to the interest of its little -children within its borders, has allowed the devil to throw dust into the -eyes of its leaders, to blind them against its happiness and prosperity -by leading all into the dark. - -Why are some Christians little-loved, weak-kneed, and sickly? Because -they, like babies, live on “sop”—_i.e._, trashy fiction, shows, sights, -sounds, and unrealities, instead of the love of God and the pure milk of -His word. - -When you see a Christian with the love of God burning deadly within his -soul, and without either light or heat being the outcome, it may be taken -for granted that a lot of worldly ashes are in the way choking up the -ventilation and air passages; and if he will not set to work at once to -clear out the ashes and dust of sin God will do it for him, either by the -chastening rod of affliction or losses and crosses in other forms. - -Cloaks of deception and fraud are made out of the fibres of disease and -putrefaction, and those who wear them are exposed to the disgust and -loathing of all upright observers. - -Cloaks of honesty and uprightness are made out of the fibres of love and -truthfulness, and the wearers of them are received with the smiles and -loving embraces of all classes of society. - -When you see a Christian without either life or soul within him, you may -rest satisfied that bank-notes, musty-fusty deeds, or other things upon -which he has set his affections, are clinging round and coming across the -ventricles of his heart, and unless removed they will cause death both to -the body and to the soul. If the earth-bound Christian will set fire to -them by exposing them and his heart to a ray of Divine love, he will be -able to jump over a mountain and scale the battlements of heaven, and -with flag in hand shout, “Victory!” - -Some dashing, flashing wicked men are like a balloon without a vent-hole -filled with the devil’s gas, which expands the higher it rises; and for a -time they float upon the surface of humanity, finally seeking pleasure -among the clouds of fascination and frivolity; and in this region they -burst and come down to earth and their senses with a tremendous crash, to -find when it is too late that they have been making fools of themselves, -and that their grappling irons will not save them from oblivion and ruin. - -A clever, wise, thoughtful, sagacious, and Christian statesman may be -compared to an aeronaut, who sits in his balloon-car carried by public -opinion and pulling the strings of popular applause. Popular applause is -the gas by which a statesman floats in the air above his followers; the -cords and netting that hold the bottom together are his friends; the -treasury bench is his car and the press his strings, which, wisely -handled, enable him to land upon the desired spot. Poor wayward and -wrong-doing relations are the grappling irons that hold him to the earth; -hangers are paupers, and loafers are his sandbags. Infidels, Fenians, -Sceptics, and Communists are matches, fusees, and percussion caps, thrown -into his car by disappointed office-seekers and courtiers with the object -of sending him to Jamaica before his work is done. When those various -elements have either been thrown out of the car, stamped out, or brought -under proper control, he will then mount higher and higher till he -finally quits his car and finds himself seated by the throne of God. - -The best stimulating food for an overworked brain, and containing more -phosphorus than a thousand fish, is the essence of Divine love, and grace -and truth in equal quantities, to be taken upon the knees as often as -circumstances need. Before applying to the Great Physician for this -medicine the patient should spend an hour in meditation and solitude. - -When you see professing Christian parents setting their children to -ferret into other people’s affairs, it is a sure sign that they are -fonder of rat-catching than filling their souls with good things; and the -unwary should be on the look-out, or they will be trapped by these godly -rat-catchers and their skins taken to be made into purses. - -The various denominations of Christian churches in the country may be -likened to an orchard of apple trees, most of which are bearing fruit in -one form or other. Some are just beginning to bear fruit, and there are -others dead or dying, while there are some trees producing larger -quantities of ripe, healthy fruit. In some cities, towns, and villages -the best kinds of fruit are to be seen, and in other places the little -hard sour crabs, which almost set one’s teeth on edge to look at them, -much less to taste. The best and largest fruit in any case is that which -grows upon the most healthy trees and branches, exposed to the sun’s -rays, and draws its nourishment the most direct from the parent trunk. -Fruit upon almost dead branches does not so soon get ripe as the fruit -upon healthy branches, and it is small and shrivelled up. In some -localities we shall see what we may call “Blenheim” churches, “Russett” -churches, “Crab” churches, “Keswick” churches, “Northern Green” churches, -“Whiting Pippin” churches, “Winter” churches, &c., growing side by side. -The “Crab” church is little, hard, and sour; the “Blenheim” church is -rich, large, delicious, and healthy; the “Russett” church is uninviting, -but juicy, and much better than it looks. So in like manner with other -kinds of Christian churches. The name of the churches answering under -these various names must be answered by the members themselves. As -digging, dunging, pruning, and grafting improves the trees and the -quality of the fruit, so in like manner our heavenly Father has to deal -with His churches, or they would all die together. Conscience, -surrounded with death-like stillness, asks the question, “To which do you -belong?” - -A man who has forsaken the path God has marked out for him has stuffed -his ears with wool, and jumped upon the devil’s steam tug, and is being -taken into a long, dark, dark tunnel, with no light at the other end; and -the light of heaven and the gospel which he has left behind him are, -through distance, smoke, and steam, and his own bad actions, getting -gradually less. The only light he can see, and which will not help him -to grope his way in his wretched condition, is derived from farthing -rush-lights called science, made and placed in the dark watery cavern by -men’s hands; and these get fewer as he is being pulled along by evil -influences, until he is lost in despair, with horror upon his face and -wringing his hands in grief he passes away. - -As children sitting upon a swing gate rocking to and fro are in some -degree being prepared for the storms of a life at sea, so are the little -foretastes of heavenly pleasure enjoyed by His children from time to -time, filling, preparing, and nerving them for the tempestuous ocean -which awaits them. - -People without gratitude for God’s mercies may be compared to swine -eating chestnuts as they fall from the trees. Their refined senses are -only manifested in grunts and grumbles. Wise are the people who take -lessons from the little birds, and sing God’s praises while they enjoy -His blessings. - -Gamblers are the devil’s cats set by his Satanic majesty to catch -children and fools, and woe be to those who are caught within their -clutches. - -Those who cling to forms and ceremonies entirely as a means of getting to -heaven, will have their eyes opened some day to find out that they are -hugging and fondling an illegitimate child of a parent of a very -questionable character. The more they know of the child they have been -fondling and its mother, the more they will be disgusted with themselves -at having been such dupes and fools. - -Those who disobey their parents will find that they are putting a noose -round their necks, and tying the other end of the rope to a gate post; -and when they have done this the words “love” and “duty” in letters of -fire will spring up as from the ground, which will keep getting larger -and hotter until the wrong-doers are strangled. - -The devil’s butterfly is an unconverted clergyman, who gets upon the back -of a horse to gallop a fox to death on the week day, dresses in -fantastical colours on Sundays, dances before his congregation with -incense in his hands, and with his face towards the east, tries to carry -his congregation on his wings to a place he knows not where; -hypocritically singing the _Te Deum_ in Latin as they go from “pillar to -post.” - -Those landlords who object to the cultivation of their waste lands for -food for man and beast will find that the scent of the gorse, perfume of -the heather, contains the fragrance of the bankruptcy court, with the -hares, rabbits, partridges, pheasants, woodcock and snipe flapping about -the doors uttering horrible noises for their folly. The horrors of the -court will be increased by hearing the cries of the children asking for -bread with none to give. - -Those people who, with the aid of a glib tongue, cunning, and deception, -are weaving a cloak of soft words to cover a mass of iniquity, will find -out too late, unless very careful, that the mass of corruption they have -been hiding will burst out with a more horrible stench than that of a -dead corpse. - -Infidels and sceptics who rest entirely upon science and nature as a -lever by which they hope to lift humanity into paradise, have only to -look into a bright black earthenware teapot to discover what sort of wry -and contortious faces they are pulling before the public. - -The most powerful magnet in the world is the love of God. It can draw -the sting of the devil, disarm enemies, and lift all the human beings in -the universe into heaven. The more it is used the stronger and more -powerful it gets. - -Sceptics and infidels, seeking for the so-called errors in the Divine -Word, may be compared to blind and foot-tied weasels, trying to catch -“Jack Sharps” in a broad, deep, clear stream of pure water. They leave -their sickening scent on their trail behind them, to be carried forward -to be lost in the great stream of truth from whence all our blessings -flow. - -Children’s gifts to children produce more blessed, lasting, and -Christ-like results than any other gifts in the universe. Children’s -gifts to poor little outcast, forgotten, and neglected children are seeds -of kindness that will live as long as this world endures, and they will -then bloom in Paradise for ever. - -Christians who receive their strength for the conflicts and trials of -life from reading light books while sitting in drawing-room slippers, and -under the sound of frothy conversation, instead of from closet prayer and -faith, and the rain and sunshine of heaven, are like window plants, which -derive their strength from cold and poisonous water put to their roots. -Plants, whether in nature or grace, grown under such circumstances soon -become unhealthy and drooping, and unable to stand the bare breath of -opposition. - -Christians living upon the church roll in name only, without the cheering -and enlivening influence of the Holy Spirit, will become like plants -grown in a dark room, pale and feeble. Some Christian lives are weeds, -and may be known by their crotchets, tempers, and wrinkles. - -The first signs of a withering church may be said to have manifested -themselves when the living members extend the dead hand of sympathy to -the suffering members of their own flock. - -With the seeds of life are the seeds of death, and at the birth of any -child the mortal conflict begins, never to result in a “drawn game.” - -Big Christians, like big plants, require more water than small ones; and -so in like manner Christians who have many cares, troubles, business and -state responsibility require more grace than little Christians, and those -who have it not will soon become bankrupt. - -The “will” and “principle” are man’s own twin-sisters, the offspring of -life, and run side by side through the marrow of man’s nature; and who -derive their vitality, life, and power from the unseen spiritual -influences by which they are surrounded for good or for evil; and every -action that tends to cripple either the one or deform the other is soon -manifested in the crooked actions of a man’s life, shaping immortality. - -Crooked Christians, like crooked trees, are neither so profitable nor -beautiful to behold as those who grow straight and stately. - -Under the guise of an angel of light, Satan dangles false hope before -some Christians, as a basket made of finely-wrought and tender twigs, a -bouquet of delicate, beautiful, lovely, and richly scented greenhouse -plants, as a foretaste of what is before, or in reserve for those who -follow his advice—_i.e._, the influence of the ball-room, theatre, gay -living, high life, fashion, and fancy, &c.; and so dexterously does the -arch enemy hold these things before the simple ones, or entwine them -round their hearts, that they are ready to cry out, “hell” is heaven and -“heaven” is hell; and in this way the simple are groping after shadows -till they find themselves surrounded by a darkness blacker than midnight, -and without a friend in the world, with the devil laughing in their face -for having been such fools. - -The best antidote against beer and hellish swears is cold water and -upward prayers. - -To a troubled conscience, at midnight hour the ticking of a clock sounds -as loud as the death knell of the church bell. - -Every act of good or ill we perform makes an indent upon the coil of -future life, which will speak and re-speak to us through the never-ending -ages of eternity as they roll along. - -Every time a Christian looks at sin with a longing eye, the devil draws a -thin beautiful tinted film before his eyes, through which film, in -process of time, the fire in his conscience eye, kindled at the time of -his conversion, is unable to penetrate, or see the dangers lying across -his path. - -Tears of penitence, joy, and gladness are the best eye-salve for those -whose eyes are growing dim. - -Christians who have to live in and wade through the mud of slander and -lying pools of deceit have need to wear watertight boots, of the kind -described in the good old book. - -By listening attentively to the prayers of a Christian, you will soon -discover whether he wants—like a run-down clock—winding up. Losses and -crosses, the death of a darling child, affliction, and a thousand other -things, God useth as He seemeth well to wind him up and set him a-going -again with fresh vigour. - -A man who has a heart full of prejudice, spite, malice, and envy has an -extra eye upon his nose, eclipsing his other eyes, which can both smell -and see the dark side of a man’s character. So sensitive is this -nose-eye that it can detect faults and failings when there are none to be -detected. - -The most lovely Christians are those who, like the beautiful butterfly -and charming songsters, live in the sunlight of His throne. - -The more miserable Christians are those who, like bats, buzz about in the -dark. - -Some Christians are like London dogs galloping about the streets after -froth, losing their masters, and then they howl out, “Oh that I knew -where I might find him!” - -When the benevolent action of drawing-room philanthropy ends in nothing -but tall talk and carpet gossip, it may be compared to soap bubbles piped -forth for show. - -Youths receiving their habits, nourishment, character, and stamina from -the pothouse and gin-palace may be compared to plants grown in a room -lighted and warmed with gas, which sicken and die. - -Artificial Christians are like wax flowers, pretty to look upon; but -without scent and perfume, difficult to handle, and they will not stand -the fire. - -Society is like a book of poems, and those members with the most -sentiment, poetry, or sympathy in their natures will be the most sought -after, prized, and used. - -To a man who has done wrong, and has a troubled conscience, a louse upon -the window pane appears as an ugly monster. - -Conscience is the soul’s looking-glass, and blessed is the man who has -courage to hold it up to behold what manner of man he is. - -A sick room is often God’s pinfold, where He places in naughty wandering -children; and there they will lie until either our blessed Saviour -unlocks the gate or takes them over the top of the walls to heaven. - -Authors and their books are like flowers: some are small, but send out a -rich fragrance, and may be used as button-holes in the drawing-room; -others are lovely to look upon, but as sour as crabs to handle and taste. -There are others as large and showy as the sunflower, with a perfume -anything but paradisical; and there are others with heavenly virtues -running through themselves and their books to such an extent that a child -will have no difficulty in gathering sufficient flowers to form a -beautiful bouquet; and not a few in this our day are actually poisonous, -and dangerous to meddle with. - -Strong conviction, the offspring of thought and reflection, is the -handmaid of inspiration, and the agent through which this heavenly -soul-impelling power works out the Divine ends and decrees of Providence -in carrying on the affairs of the world; and those who are heavenly -inspired by means of the golden cord of love and sympathy, in full action -between themselves and God, may be said to be His cabinet ministers. - -The food eaten by an idle man warps his body, stunts his mind, and sends -his soul to ruin. - -An oak tree, or any other tree which stands the storms with defiance, are -those whose roots have hold of mother earth with the firmest grip; and as -in nature so in grace. A man to withstand all the storms of life must -have firm hold upon the Deity. - -A crooked tree may be said to be faulty; and it is neither so valuable -nor beautiful as those that are straight and stately; so in like manner -it may be said of the crooked members of Christian churches and social -societies. - -Some members of the community may he properly called “creepers,” for they -very much resemble the ivy. They have neither backbone nor principle. -Their object is to creep into religious communities and social societies, -so as to entwine themselves round the members. They harbour filth, -impede growth, hide beauty, and climb by the strength they steal from -others. - -A church whose members are tipsters may be compared to a marsh with too -much water at the roots, bringing forth rushes, sedges, and buttercups. - -Upon the tail of a snail a farmer’s weather glass is to be seen; so in -like manner the footsteps of an enemy will reveal to an observing mind -the dangers to be avoided. - -Some Christian ministers are like the gas stove, warm-looking in the -pulpit, but cold at home. - -A man with all sorts of wrong ideas, crotchets, and queer notions in his -head exhibits himself as a marsh with spots of green grass and daisies, -to get at which mud and quagmire will have to be faced and got through -before they are reached, and when this has been done the trouble will -have been wasted. - -Selfish men and misers engaged in grubbing after mammon may be compared -to a swarm of flies feeding upon a dung-heap; and so long as the sun of -prosperity shines they can feed, buzz, annoy, and sting. - -A man who kisses his wife to hide his sins is sowing seeds that will -produce a crop of anguish and despair that will hang heavier round his -neck than a millstone. A kissing deceiver is the devil’s major-general. - -Every time a man or woman does a deceitful action they make and deposit a -grain of gunpowder, that only requires the light of public opinion and -truth to send the maker, according to the number of grains deposited, -into eternity to reap his folly. - -Hungry-bellied politicians, whose object is to sting in order to feed, -are the gadflies of English society, settling upon John Bull to fill -their pockets and rob for fame. - -Paupers and lawyers are leeches which fasten upon social life, often -sucking the blood of those who are the least able to stand them. - -A wife who cooks her husband’s meals five minutes behind time is carving -furrows upon his forehead. - -A mother who sends her children unwashed to school is embedding in the -child’s nature seeds that will one day bring a crop of poverty, -wretchedness, and despair. - -A man who sits playing with his thumbs, hoping that something will turn -up to put him upon the pedestal of fame and fortune, is hatching addled -eggs, and the longer he sits upon them the worse they will stink. - -Infidelity is a thick, muddy canal made by men’s hands, the bosom of -which is covered with the weeds of idiosyncrasies and Satanic doubts; and -beneath its surface it teems with all kinds of big and little, prickly, -dead, and dying venomous reptiles; and woe be to the man who trusts his -barque upon its stinking and putrefying surface with the hope that it -will carry him to the crystal river and sea of glass. - -Something of the wonderful infinitude, love, and power of God, in -regulating and governing the external and internal relation of myriads -upon myriads of millions of worlds teeming with life, variety, and -beauty, may be gathered if we can grasp the idea that the separate -particles of the rays of light sent forth by the sun to illumine our -world each morning are, after they have done their work, whirled into -unknown and unbounded space, and transformed as they fly, at a rate -faster than imagination can travel, into suns to light up other worlds -and other systems. And yet He finds time to number the hairs upon our -heads; yea, a sparrow cannot fall to the ground without His notice. -Wonderful! most wonderful! Past comprehension. None can fathom. - -As the twelve precious stones—jasper, sapphire, chalcedony, emerald, -sardonyx, sardius, chrysolyte, beryl, topaz, chrysoprasus, jacinth, and -an amethyst formed the foundation of the heavenly Jerusalem, the future -home of His saints, with pearly gates, as seen by John the divine in -apostolic days; so do hopeful, believing, fighting, wrestling, joyous, -singing, patient, benevolent, praying, working, and conquering Christians -form the foundation of the present-day heavenly temple, with love and -concord as doors, and walls of virtue, wherein God delights to dwell -among His children, witnessing adoration with loving eyes, and listening -to hymns of praise and thanksgiving with melodious ears. - -A man may be said to be in a fog when he cannot see the hand of -Providence in all his dealings, or God’s finger pointing out his way. - -A closet is a burrow into which a Christian who is hounded to death by -the dogs of hell can run and be safe. When once there, Christians can -smile at their howls and sing while they show their teeth with rage. - - * * * * * - -At seven o’clock I was unbolting the door, making my way out of the house -to a number of gipsy vans in an orchard on the outskirts of the town. On -going to the place I met a little _posh_ gipsy dressed in “rags and -trashes,” with the heels—what was left of the “trashes”—upside down. He -had just turned out of his bed, he said, and from his bed followed the -dog, both having snoozled under the van—in which his uncle and aunt -lay—on the ground, with a wet, damp rug as a covering. “Master,” said -the little _posh_ gipsy boy, “can you tell me where I can get a bottle of -ginger beer? I am so thirsty and hungry. I’ve had nothing since my -dinner yesterday.” I went with the boy to several houses where -“Ginger-beer sold here” was displayed in the window, but without success. -I gave the boy the price of a bottle and trotted him off lower down the -town to quench his thirst and satisfy his appetite. - -The gipsies were just beginning to “turn out,” and the little gipsies, -half naked, were hunting up sticks out of the hedge-bottom to light the -fire to boil the water for breakfast. The men and dogs were collecting -together in groups, half-dressed, to relate to each other their successes -at the fair. Apart from the rest of the gipsies, owning a van of a -better kind than the others, two old gipsies were enjoying their -breakfast upon the ground. As soon as the old gipsy woman—whose face -betokened that it had figured in many an encounter, and was somewhat -highly coloured—saw me, she began to get excited, and called me to them. -I thought, “Now is the time for squalls; look out.” I drew near to the -old woman with a strange mixture of feelings. It was early in the -morning. There were now about a score of gipsy men and women looking on, -and a few of the dogs came sniffing at my heels. I tried to screw a -smile upon my face, and to dig and delve low for a pleasant joke, but it -would not come from the “vasty deep.” On my approach the old woman -jumped up from the ground, and with both hands clasped mine in hers, -which felt as rough as a navvy’s, saying while griping them tightly, -“Bless yer, my good mon, I’ve wanted to see yer for a long while. I’ve -long ’erd abaut yer, and ha’ never had th’ pleasure o’ puttin’ my een on -yer till this mornin’. Sit yer down on th’ gress, I want to tawke to -yer. Dunner yer be freetened, I’m not goin’ to swaller yer, bless yer, -master mon. Yer’ll ha’ sum brekust, wonner yer?” “Yes,” I said, “I did -not mind.” Although I did not exactly like the appearance of things, I -thought it would not do to say “no,” and I knelt upon the damp grass. In -a pan over their fiery embers were the remnants of bacon and red -herrings. There was only one large cup and saucer, without a handle, for -the pair of them. I thought most surely she would fetch a cup and saucer -out of the van for me. Such was not to be the case. A group of some ten -or twelve working men of Hinckley stood looking over the hedge only a few -yards away, at the old woman’s “megrims.” She handed me in the first -place a piece of bread, upon which was some bacon and herring. It took -me all the time to swallow this uninviting morsel. I munched a little of -it, and some I put into my pocket for another time. She now filled up -her cup with tea, and made her fingers do duty for sugar tongs. I could -see no teaspoons about, except one that was among the herrings and bacon. -This was fetched out and plunged into the tea, and round and round it -went, leaving upon the top of the dark-coloured tea—which I could now see -by the bright morning sun shining upon the scene—stars floating about. -The old woman first drank herself, and then handed the cup of tea to me. -I supped and nibbled the crust. I supped again, till between us the cup -was nearly emptied. She had a strong scent of “Black Jack,” and I kept a -very sharp eye upon what parts of the cup the old woman drank from. “Now -then to bisness,” said the old gipsy. “Yer see none o’ we gipsies con -read an’ write. I’ll show yer I con, if none o’ them conner. Han yer -got anythin’ wi yer for me to read?” I had a few copies of “Our Boys and -Girls,” with me, given to me by the Wesleyan Sunday School Union, and I -handed one to the old woman, dated September 1880, and she began -stammering at some of the verses in an excited frame of mind between -anger and pleasure, as if determined to read them whether she could or -not. “Ha—ha—ha,—Haste traveller—ha—ha,—haste! the night comes on.” She -got through one or two of the verses pretty well. I then gave her -another verse, which she read fairly well: - - “He is our best and kindest Friend, - And guards us night and day.” - -I gave her another verse, but I could see tears in her eyes, which -prevented her getting through it as well as she desired. She laid the -fault to her being without spectacles. Her reading these lines touched -her very much, and she became quite excited again, and jumped up and -clutched hold of both of my hands and said, “Yer see, my good mon, if -none o’ the t’other gipsies con read, I con, conner I? But I con do more -than read, I con say a lot o’ the Bible off by heart. The Creeds, Church -Catechism, Belief, and Sacraments, which I larnt by heart when I was a -girl. I went to the Church Sunday School at Uttoxeter. Yer’ll see by -that I have not allus been a gipsy. When I got married to my old mon I -had to go a-gipsying wi’ him, and have never been in th’ church since. -My name’s Bedman, of ‘Ucheter,’ and am well known.” - -She knelt upon the grass again, and supped a little more of her strong -tea. The number of Hinckley working people and gipsies was increasing, -and up she jumped again, clutching both of my hands, after which she laid -her hand in navvy fashion upon my shoulder, and began to repeat the -Creed: “I believe in one God, the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and -earth, and in all things visible and invisible. And in one Lord Jesus -Christ, the only begotten Son of God,” and on she went to the end in her -fashion. After this she knelt down again and began with the Decalogue; -“God spake these words and said, I am the Lord thy God; thou shalt have -none other gods but me,” and with a red face, and tears in her eyes, -trembling with emotion, she sung in the usual chanting tone, “Lord have -mercy upon us, and incline our hearts to keep this law.” The old gipsy -woman went on to the end, to which I responded, “Amen.” Some portions of -the Litany were repeated, and then she struck off at a tangent into the -Catechism, commencing with “What is your name? May Bedman. Who gave you -that name? My godfathers and godmothers in my baptism, wherein I was -made a member of Christ, the child of God, and an inheritor of the -kingdom of heaven. What did your godfathers and godmothers then for you? -They did promise and vow three things in my name. First, that I should -renounce the devil and all his works, the pomps and vanities of this -wicked world, and all the sinful lusts of the flesh. Secondly, that I -should believe all the Articles of the Christian Faith. And thirdly, -that I should keep God’s holy will and commandments, and walk in the same -all the days of my life;” and then she sung out, “Amen.” “Ah!” said the -old woman, “you see, my good master mon, I know a little, don’t I?” -“Yes,” I said, “you know a little, and he that knoweth his Master’s will, -and doeth it not, ‘shall be beaten with many stripes.’” “Yes,” said the -old gipsy, “I do know my Master’s will, and I have not done it, and I’ve -been beaten with many stripes during the last forty years, and here I am. -Never mind, let bygones be bygones. ‘Let the wicked forsake his way, and -the unrighteous man his thoughts: and let him return unto the Lord, and -he will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for he will abundantly -pardon.’” And I replied, “Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be -as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as -wool.” “Yes, you are right, bless you,” said the old backsliding gipsy, -and with wet knees and wet eyes she sang out again, “Lord, have mercy -upon us, and incline our hearts to keep this law,” to which I responded, -“Amen.” I then left this penitent gipsy’s strong grips, the gipsy gang, -and the number of lookers-on to go to my “quarters” for my breakfast. I -then spent another half-hour with the Salvation Army. After a pleasant -conversation with the clergyman at my lodgings, I started homeward, and -on my way to the station I came upon one of my old gipsy families, who -were just having their breakfast in a very filthy, tumbledown van, with -their six poor ragged, dirty little children squatting about on the -bottom of it. The good-hearted _posh_ gipsy woman seemed to have lost -all spirit in her struggles to live a respectable traveller’s life, and -was now with her children in the depths of despair and poverty. She -would insist on my having a cup of tea as I sat upon the doorstep. I -could not drink all of it, but did the best I could under the -circumstances. She persisted in pressing me to take a cocoa-nut and a -sponge for my little folk at home, the cocoa-nut to eat and the sponge to -clean their slates with. - -It is from two adjoining villages in the neighbourhood of Hinckley that -two of our present-day English tribes of gipsies spring. Many years ago -the father of one tribe was a “stockinger”—_i.e._, one who makes -stockings—and he conceived the idea that he would like to be a gipsy. -Accordingly he set up a pedlar’s “basket of trifles” and began to stump -the country. From this small beginning there are now between forty and -fifty “real gipsies,” as some backwood gipsy writers—who would delight in -seeing this country dragged backward into Druidism as a retaliation for -their own failure in the battle of life—would call them. Poor -little-souled mortals! they are to be pitied, or my feeling of disgust at -their wrong-doing would lead me to say hard things about them. To be -laughed out of school is a start bad enough in the wrong road in all -conscience, without a severe probe from me. My pleasure would be to put -out the hand to lead wrong-doers back to the wise counsel of a loving -Christian father, the decalogue, and the teaching of Christ. - -The success of the first gipsies in their “rounds” led the second lot to -take up the “profession,” and to-day we have two full-blown tribes of -English gipsies in full swing, tramping the country in vans, carts, -surrounded in many instances with dogs, dirt, wretchedness, and misery. -Sometimes they will be fraternizing with kisses, and other times they -will be quarrelling and fighting with each other to the extent of almost -“eating each other’s heads off.” In these two families there will be -close upon one hundred and fifty men, women, and children, and not more -than three or four out of the whole able to read and write a sentence. -It is truly heartrending to contemplate the amount of evil that has been -done in the country by these two families of artificially-trained -gipsies. Thank God, some of them are beginning to see the error of their -ways. - -I bade the Hinckley gipsies good-bye, and having dined off a slice of -bread-and-butter fetched out of the corner of my bag, at Nuneaton -station, I made my way homeward. As I was mounting the last hill on this -bright, lovely Christian Sabbath day the church bells were pealing forth— - - “Come to church and pray - On this blessed day.” - -Mr. George Burden, the Leicester poet, author of “The Months,” had heard -something of the cry of the gipsy children when he was prompted to send -me the following touching little poem:— - - “THE GIPSY CHILDREN. - - “From the remotest ages, - From many a lovely lane, - The cry of gipsy children - To heaven hath risen in vain. - - “CHORUS. Then rescue gipsy children, - Who roam our country lanes. - Break off their moral thraldom, - That keeps each life in chains. - - “Through many a bitter hardship - Their little lives have passed; - Round them the robes of kindness - As yet have ne’er been cast. - - “From city, town, and village - They wander wild and free, - Too long despised, forsaken, - Amid their revelry. - - “No influence pure and heavenly - Protects them night and day; - Nor wise and blest instruction - To help them on their way. - - “From vice and shame and ruin, - That taint their early youth, - Ye English hearts deliver— - Shield them with love and truth. - - “One hastens to their rescue - With earnest heart and will; - God bless the noble mission - Of George Smith of Coalville!” - - - - -Rambles among the Gipsies, Posh Gipsies, and Gorgios at Long Buckby. - - -DURING the Sunday night after my visit to Hinckley I more than once -thought that I was about to enter the great unknown and unseen world of -_Tátto paáni_ (spirits) from whence no _choórodo_ (tramp) returns. - -After partaking of a light breakfast of the kind _Midúvelesko_ (Christ) -and _mongaméngro_ (beggars) eat, with my _Romeni_ (wife), _Racklé_ -(sons), and _Raklia_ (girls) at our plain-fare _misáli_ (table), I began -with some of “_our boys and girls_” to wend my way through _poous_ -(fields) and by-lanes and over rippling streams to Long Buckby. I had -not got far down one of the lanes before I came upon a scissors-grinder -(_posh_) gipsy, who, together with his _joovel_ (woman) and their six -_nongo-peeró chiklo chavis_ (barefooted dirty children), were _beshing_ -(sitting) upon _chiklo drom rig_ (muddy roadside) _rokering_ (talking), -_chingaren_ (quarrelling), _sovenholben_ (swearing), and eating their -_shooker manro_ (dry bread) for breakfast and _paáni_ (water) out of the -rippling stream for _múterimongri_ (tea). Their _yogoméskro_ (fireplace) -was upon the _chik_ (ground); their _kair_ (house) was a barrow covered -with rags. Although belonging to _Anghitérra_ (England), and priding -themselves on being _Gaújokones_ (English), not one of the eight men, -women, and children could tell a letter. _Shóshi_ (rabbits) were not to -be seen, and _kanegrós_ (hares) were out of sight, where they _Taned_ -(camped). Rooks were “caw”-cawing overhead; _baúro-chériklo_ (pheasants) -and _ridjil_ (partridges) had flown. After a chat with them I -distributed a few pictures and little things to the _chabis_ (children), -and then bade them good (_saúla_) morning. - -A further trembling stroll by the hedges, ditches, daisies, and -buttercups brought me to the edge of the canal, where I sat down to watch -the darting, jumping, and frisking of the _mátcho_ (fish) as they shot to -and fro before me. Every now and again a perch would pop up out of the -clear water, as if anxious to have a peep and a game, and then it would, -with a whisk of its tail, shoot off like an arrow. The lark was singing -overhead. While meditating, musing, and observing upon the surroundings -and unregistered and uninspected canal boats and cabins packed to -suffocation with uneducated poor canal children, in face of an Act -passed—for which I worked _hard_ and _long_ from 1872 and onward to -to-day, to prevent this sad state of things—I began to aphorize, and -entered into my pocket-book the following aphorisms:— - -Some little-brained, over-sensitive, dwarfish mortals, who spend their -time in running after little annoyances, may be compared to a policeman -running with his staff after a fly which has been tickling the end of his -nose on a summer’s sunny afternoon. - -A clever man who has found his way into the gutter through his own -misconduct may be compared to a piece of granite, with a rugged -squarishness about him that would have enabled him to find his upward way -into the world and good society; instead of which his ruggedness has been -rubbed and kicked off, and to-day he is as a boulder upon the pavement, -and undergoing the process of being kicked from pillar to post, with no -reward for him but the gutter. - -A man who builds up his fortune out of ill-gotten gains, and the grinding -sweat of the poor, is feathering his nest in a dead carcase that will -stink long in his nostrils, notwithstanding fine feathers, plausible -excuses, and sanctimonious looks. - -When present unhappiness is the outgrowth of honest conviction and -hard-working strivings, a crop of immortal pleasures will be seen where -least expected. - -Immortal, golden fame is the everlasting perfume of eternal flowers, -grown out of immortal deeds, sown upon immortal soil by unselfish hands, -and watered by tears of sorrow shed in trial’s darkest hours. - -When ignoramuses and fools mistake the artificial light of science for -that of the sun, it may be taken for granted that they are in a fair way -for having their fingers burnt in the candle. - -A shallow headed trickster, with a hungry belly and an empty pocket, -clothed in trickery, wringing the watery drops of sympathy and -benevolence from his nature to paint virtuous smiles upon his face to -deceive his friends while he lightens their pockets of gold, for which he -has never worked, has earned the title of the devil’s grave-digger, with -_perfidus fraudulentus_ engraved upon the buttons of his coat. - -Round boulder-stones are awkward things with which to build up new -churches, so are the round members of the community, without principle, -fidelity, and piety, awkward members of society to found new Christian -churches. - -A London smoke prevents healthy vegetation, as do London morals and -influences prevent healthy spiritual life and vigour. - -A loan office is a social whirlpool that has shipwrecked thousands of -honest families, and as the little ones have gone down they have cried -for help, but there has been none to deliver. - -The man to gauge your pocket correctly is a lawyer, for he can tell what -filthy lucre you have in it with his eyes shut. - -A lawyer’s office is coated with birdlime, strong enough to fetch the -clothes off your back and keep you riveted to the spot; and then the -lawyer, with a laugh upon his face like Solomon’s leeches, cries out for -more. - -As rusty old nails put into pickle produce poison for the body, so do -rusty, deceitful old sinners put into social and religious societies -produce moral poison. - -In the darkest heart, riven with anguish and despair, there lies embedded -in the human breast a spiritual vein that only requires one touch of the -match of heavenly sympathy to cause it to shed seraphic lustre upon -hellish actions, at once transforming them into Divine. - -A dandy is fashion’s painted sparrow, whose wings will be sure to be -clipped, and who will find a final resting-place in the gutter. - -A gin-shop is the devil’s headquarters, with the landlord as his -recruiting serjeant, and rags as the standard colours of his army. - -In all societies the devil has his “gad-flies,” whose only mission in the -world seems to be to sting and annoy. - -Slanderers and backbiters are the cats of hell, with eyes of fire, -poison-steeped claws, and tails of blood, running wild, and woe be to -those who come in their way. - -As the light proceeding from the natural sun produces the seven cardinal -colours, viz., red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet, and -with a proper mixture of these colours a spotless white is produced; so -in like manner with the light proceeding form the Son of God, the seven -cardinal graces are the outcome of His glory, viz., love, joy, patience, -faith, meekness, temperance, and charity, which, when blended together in -human natures, produce a perfect Christian, reflecting His glory and -image. - -Imagination is the ethereal unseen car that carries the twin angelic -sisters, love and sympathy, through space and matter to visit the darkest -and brightest spots of creation as a mission of affection, consolation, -reproof, help, and encouragement to every fallen son of Adam. - -A mother’s prayers are a life-belt that has saved thousands of young men -and women from being lost amid the dark storms and wrecks of life, until -they have been lifted into the life-boat and carried safe to shore -beneath the silver rays of Biblical truth, which the lighthouse of heaven -has been shedding o’er the troubled waters dashing against the rocks of -land and rugged earth. - -As the rose, pine-apple, and other deliciously scented fruits and flowers -send forth the best fragrance when clouds are the darkest and lowest, -atmosphere the heaviest, and rainstorms flying threateningly about, so in -like manner do the most child-like, Christ-like, modest, and heavenly -Christians send forth heavenly graces tinted with seraphic splendour when -the storms of persecution are flying savagely about, afflictions weigh -heavily, and Providence hidden from view. - -As the beautiful white snow that flappers and flickers about us in winter -appears shapeless and ragged to the naked eye, but when seen through a -microscope presents prismatic forms and crystalline beauty beyond -imagination, so in like manner the blessings, bounties, and mercies of -God do to the eye of sinful nature and a bad heart; but when they are -seen by the eye of sincerity, child-like simplicity, and faith, then the -beauty and wonderful variety of God’s goodness to us are manifested as -they descend with heavenly stillness in our rooms and round our paths. - -Children seeking innocent, pure, and moral precepts among wicked street -boys and girls, are running barelegged and barefooted after butterflies -in a field of nettles and thistles. - -A bed of affliction is the “gridiron” upon which God often puts His -children when either their keel or propeller—faith and love—gets out of -order. Sometimes when they have been very wayward, and have suffered -severely, nothing less than being run into “dry dock”—afflictions and -earthly losses—will meet their case. - -As pearls and other precious gems can be brought out of the sea only by -diving—no magnetic hand of an idle man is powerful enough to cause them -to swim—so can a Christian fetch up the much more precious hidden -mysteries of heaven by retiring from the world and engaging in closet -prayer, and diving into God’s wonderful system of Divine love. The gems -out of the sea adorn the body, while the pearls of heaven beautify the -mind, enliven the soul, put a lustre upon the actions, and illumine the -countenance with heavenly radiancy. - -As the eyes and nose convey the delicious scents and beauty of creation -to the natural man, so in like manner do faith and prayer convey to the -soul the fragrance, delight, and beauty of heaven. - -A man who seeks to be a philanthropist for worldly fame, with a heart -full of pride, selfishness, vanity, levity, lust, babbling, hate, and -deceit, has a compass upon his ship out of order. And he may also be -compared to a vessel with eight “fo’c’sles” and no “poop,” with helm to -steer, trusting to his flimsy sails of false hopes flappering in the -breeze to guide him to heaven, but sure to run him aground to hell. - -The heavenly prayer of earth tinged with grief and sorrow will become the -golden picture of heaven illuminated with joy and tinted with God’s -radiant smile. - -The face of a good man is the best heliograph in the world. The -heliograph used in war-time, as a signal, shines best with the brightest -sun, while the heliograph produced upon a man’s face by love shines best -in the darkest hour. Dismal cellars, squalid hearths, wretched garrets -and prisons, are good places in which to reflect a radiant splendour that -will last for ever. - -To get a faint idea of God’s goodness and infinite splendour we have only -to imagine all the leaves and petals of vegetation, differing in shape -and size, teeming with silvery dewdrops of an infinitude of delicate -tints, which, as they drop among the flowers of earth, instantly turn -into pearls and diamonds of the first water; and while you are picking -them up, a doubling and multiplying process is everlastingly going on to -fill their places. So God gives, and so are the recipients of His -mercies, ever blessed with an infinite number of mercies daily and hourly -as we pass along. - - * * * * * - -After another slow walk I felt drowsy, and sat down upon a mossy bank -under a shady tree to rest my bones and wearied limbs. The whistling of -the sweet songsters and the bleating of the sheep and lowing of the oxen, -together with the lovely summer’s enchantments, sent me into a doze with -my elbows upon my knees. I had not been long in this position before the -meadow appeared as one vast gipsy encampment, composed of tents, vans, -dogs, wretchedness, misery, devilry, ignorance, dirt, filth, and squalor. -The gipsy men, women, and children were playing, singing, preying, -banging, shouting, fighting, thieving, lying, swearing, poaching, -cheating, and fortune-telling to their hearts’ content. Among this vast -concourse of English gipsy heathens, there were not a few “spoony” -Gorgios, and “_posh_ gipsies.” At one side of the meadow there was a -gipsy tent covered with rags and old sheeting. There were several little -lost gipsy children playing about it on the grass. Near them stood two -gipsy women talking to two silly young ladies, and telling their -fortunes. The young ladies, of course, were both in love with fair -gentlemen, but the fair gentlemen would prove deceitful and dark -gentlemen would take their places; and they would marry well, after -crossing the water, and become rich, and have a number of children, who -would become dukes and lords, and would live and die rolling in gold and -splendour, with horses, carriages, and servants to wait upon them “hand -and foot.” One of the young ladies, with glittering wealth hanging about -her, would have much trouble and many disappointments before she realized -her wishes, but all would be removed and made right as time went on. One -of the old fortune-telling wicked hags, who could not read a letter, took -out a small pocket Bible, and pretended to read a few verses. The old -gipsies made a few signs, repeated some gabble, and looked into the hands -of the young ladies, and told them to come again, as they had something -of great importance to tell them the next time, which would add much to -their happiness, beauty, and pleasure; but before the secrets could be -successful they must bring the best and most valuable ring they had in -the house for her to make crosses with, so that she might rule her planet -properly and dispose of the fair man, who was haunting one of them to -make her his wife, but would bring her to ruin. To the other young lady -an old gipsy woman said, in a kind of snake’s whisper, “You, my dear -young lady, have living with you in your family a fair woman and dark -man; they don’t mean you any good. You must have nothing to do with -them; be sure and hear what I say. Now mind, you must not listen to what -they say, or it will be your ruin, and all my words of counsel will turn -to curses.” “But,” said the young lady, “there is no fair woman or dark -man in our house, except my father and mother.” “Well,” said the old -gipsy, “hear what I have to say. Your father and mother are no friends -of yours. Now mark that; goodbye, my sweet girl. The Lord bless you, my -dear girl. I shall see you again soon; good-bye. Be sure and bring the -best ring in the house. Good-bye, and may the dear Lord bless you. If -you can bring two rings it will be all the better for your happiness and -fortune. The young gentleman who will be your husband will never be -cross. He will always be smiling. He will be beautiful, and he will let -you go where you like and do what you like. Bring two rings for your own -sake. Good-bye, my darling child. I wish I stood in the way for a -fortune and happiness as surely as you do; but all depends upon you -bringing me the rings. Good-bye, my sweet child. If you can bring me a -spade-ace guinea, or a Queen Victoria sovereign of the present year, it -will be all the better. I can influence the planets so that you can have -your dear charming little husband, horses, carriages, and footmen to wait -upon you earlier. The planets will do anything just now. Good-bye, my -sweet darling child. You are so much like your dear aunt; she was one of -the prettiest and best ladies I ever knew, and it would be a thousand -pities for you not to have a good husband. Bring the two rings, and the -guinea or sovereign, and it shall be all right. Good-bye.” “But,” said -the young lady, “I have not got any diamond rings and sovereigns. They -are my father’s and mother’s.” “Never mind. Hear what I say; you must -bring them if you want to be happy. I’ll influence the planets to send -your father and mother,” said the old hag, closing her fist, and with -fire in her eyes, and a devil’s anger in heart, and frowns upon her face, -“more in their places of greater value to them. The planets will not be -ruled, my dear young lady, except by the rings that your father and -mother have worn; and the sovereign would be all the better if taken out -of either your father’s or mother’s pocket. The gold and rings of your -mother have the most influence with the planets.” - -After the young ladies had gone, the woman winked at me with a twinkle, -and said, with her arm raised, “Don’t you spoil my game, and I will bless -you. If all goes on right we shall have lots of money the whole of the -winter. If you do spoil my game, I—I—I will curse you to death; to death -will I curse you, and shall call you a vile wretch for ever; to death you -shall be sent.” - -While this was going on, a little bird was singing in the trees overhead, -which caused the old gipsy woman to look up at it and me, and in a -softened voice said, “What does it say?” I said, “If you could but read -it rightly, it says, ‘Be not deceived, God is not mocked; for whatsoever -a man soweth, that shall he also reap.’” This seemed to startle the old -gipsy, and she vanished into the crowd. - -Among the crowd of gipsies I noticed several gipsy men clustered -together. In the centre of the group there was a dead sheep. Sticker -said to Nobbler, “How did you come by it?” “Never mind,” said Nobbler. -“I’ve got it and that’s enough, but I may as well tell you a little. I -went round the villages a few miles away selling some pegs and skewers, -and just outside one of the villages there was a large lot of sheep in -one of the fields in prime condition, belonging to a farmer who, they -say, is a sleepy sort of a chap, and will never put any of the bobbies -upon your track. I conceived a liking for one of the sheep. I knew -Goggle Fletcher would be passing by the end of the field in which the -sheep were with his cart; and so I hung about in the public-house in the -village till it was dark. I entered the field through a gap, and drove -them into a dry corner. I kept upon the tufts of grass as much as I -could, so that I could not be traced. I was not long before I made short -work with one of them. After this I dragged him to the ditch by the side -of the road by which Goggles was to pass. I lay in the ditch for a long -time. It seemed as if he never would come. At last about eleven o’clock -he came. I could tell the sound of his trap. On coming up to me I -bawled out in a soft voice, ‘Goggles, Goggles, step down. I’ve got -something for you. It will be a treat for Sunday’s dinner.’ ‘Is that -you, Nobbler? What! You’ve been up to it again, have you? You will -have the “long wools,” if they are to be got, without either love or -money.’” Goggles jumped down and helped Nobbler to lift the sheep into -the cart, and off they bowled, arriving in the meadow about one o’clock -in the morning. Gipsies always take their plunder far away. The skin -was buried, and they set to work dividing the carcase among their kith -and kin. - - [Picture: A scissor-grinding gipsy. “Scissors to grind”] - -Another gang had been out on a poaching expedition with their lurcher -dogs, and brought to their tents and vans some hares, rabbits, and -pheasants; these were also divided. Among this vast gipsy encampment, -numbering some hundred men, women, and children, I saw an aged couple of -gipsies with some of their grandchildren round them. The old woman had -learned to read the Bible a little, and she was telling the children to -be good and love God. She was the only one who could read among the -gipsies, except a few riffraff Gorgios, who were studying gipsying with a -view to leading an idle vagabond’s life, free from parental restraint and -elevating social influences. - -In the camp I noticed a _posh_ gipsy “scissor-grinder” from one of our -alleys, and his gipsy wife; every few minutes he bawled out, “Scissors to -grind!” “Scissors to grind!” While he was grinding away at his knives -and scissors, his wife was stitching umbrellas and “minding her baby.” - -I found that the man had had a good education at a high-class school, but -had taken the “wrong turning,” and now spent part of his time in -“scissor-grinding,” singing gipsy “slap-dash songs,” and during the short -days of winter “dotted down” gipsy love tales, &c. He had smudged -thickly over the soul saving golden letters embedded in his memory in the -days of childhood—as all young men and maidens do who take to -gipsying—the fifth commandment: “_Honour thy father and thy mother_; -_that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth -thee_.” Poor follow! I felt sorry to see his dirty knees through the -rents in his breeches. In his childhood he had been taught by his -Christian parents to lisp as he knelt with his head bent low against his -mother’s knees— - - “Teach me to live that I may dread - The grave as little as my bed.” - - “I lay my body down to sleep, - Let angels guard my bed.” - -Now he could sing out with his wife’s assistance—more jovially, of -course, than Hubert Smith sung it on his tramp to Norway— - - “My father’s the king of the gipsies—that’s true, - My mother, she learned me some camping to do. - With a packet on my back, and they all wish me well, - I started up to London, some fortunes for to tell.” - -Or more touchingly than Esmeralda sung - - “Shul, Shul, gang along with me; - Gang along with me, I’ll gang along with you.” - -How much better it would have been for this scissor-grinding _posh_ gipsy -if he had followed the advice that had been given to him, and endeavoured -to lead the poor lost wanderer upon right paths to heaven instead of to -hell. - -A gipsy’s charges for “grinding” and “setting” a pair of scissors vary -from twopence to two shillings and sixpence; all depends upon -circumstance and who owns them. - -_Posh_ gipsies and others who encourage gipsy wrongdoing know it to be -misleading and evilsome; but it does not answer their purpose to speak -faithfully and truthfully about gipsy wrong-doing. Gipsy idleness, gipsy -frauds, gipsy cruelty, gipsy filth, gipsy lies, gipsy thefts, gipsy -cheating, gipsy fornication, and gipsy adultery, are looked upon by all -enlightened Englishmen and Christians as sins to be avoided and not to be -encouraged. And he who encourages the gipsies in this wrongdoing is an -enemy to the State, an enemy to God, an enemy to Christianity, and an -enemy to himself, for which he will be made to smart some day. Their -ill-gotten coin will burn their pockets and singe the hair of their head -with terrible vengeance. - -To come again to the things I saw with my eyes shut while lying under the -shade. - -Among the hundreds of gipsy children in this vast camp who were going to -ruin there were a few fast-goers, fools and fops, fraternizing with the -“gipsy beauties,” but no hand was put out to help to save the children -from woe. The “_gentlemen_” were too busy to soil their hands with the -poor-ragged, forlorn, neglected, forgotten, and forsaken gipsy children. -They might live like heathen and die like dogs. A thousand things must -be attended to, and the souls and bodies of the gipsy children might go -to hell for aught they cared. - -Occasionally a gipsy child in this camp would begin to sing; but, as -Elton Summers in the _Christian World_ Magazine for 1877, says— - - “More plaintive and low is its melody, - Till, faint with its own sad reverie, - It sinks to a whisper and dies.” - -As I lay, I noticed a man, apparently about sixty years of age, with grey -hair, round features, and a load upon his back, coming through the gate -into the meadow. The nimbleness and elasticity of his step had well-nigh -gone. His clothes were ragged and worn. He staggered along, and as he -began to move among the gipsies they began to add to his load. Sorrow -had furrowed his cheeks and a paleness was upon his countenance. Every -few minutes he seemed to hesitate and stop, as if going to put his load -upon the ground, in order to move more quickly among them, and into a -resting tent at the edge of the meadow. - -During one of his standstills I heard him with tears in his eyes saying -to himself, “Shall I put the load down? Yes, I think I will;” and then -he summoned up strength and courage and said, “No! no! I won’t put it -down till I’ve either carried it to where I want to carry it or die in -the attempt.” - -Presently he staggered and fell heavily with his burden upon the sod. He -lay for a few minutes without any one noticing him. After he had lain -for some time a crowd began to gather round him. Some said, with a -chuckle and a grin, “He’s dead, thank God! We’ve done with him, thank -God! and hope he has got into a warm place.” Three or four gentlemen -pressed through the crowd to look at the old man; and as they were going -among the bystanders I heard them say to each other, “If he shows signs -of life we will give him a lift, but if he is going to die we will have -nothing to do with him. Let those see to him who like, we will leave him -to his fate, be it rough or smooth.” Like the priests and Levites of -old, they went on the other side. - -Among the crowds in the ditches I noticed an old _posh_ gipsy woman from -South Carolina Street, with basket in hand picking up wasps, newts, and -weasels. One of the gentlemen noticed what she was doing, and questioned -her as to her movements and intentions. She replied as follows, “You -will see what I am going to do with them when I have gathered my -basketful. I hold in my pocket a bottle containing some mixture that -when once it is applied to the basket will cause them to buzz, sting, and -poison fearfully. For the matter of that a few others will help to do -the same thing; and when this is done I am going to empty them upon the -poor devil’s head to either poison or sting him to death. Several here -tried to do it before, but they were fools and did not go the right way -to work.” One gentleman said, “Has the poor fellow ever done you any -harm or wronged you in any way?” “Well, I don’t know that he has, but I -and a few others want to see the end of him.” - -She filled her basket, and applied the mixture to the wasps, newts, and -weasels, and just as she was going to empty them upon the head of the -poor fellow, about dying, they turned and settled upon her own pate, and -away she went out of the crowd, and I have not seen her since. By the -side of the poor fellow lay a small bag of seeds which were to grow -bread, clothes, and comfort, which a few friends had collected to help -the old man on his journey. It was not long by the side of the old -pilgrim before up stepped a little dodger who had taken to gipsying, -named Philip Lamb, from Russia, who seized the small bag and off he -scampered. The last I saw of him was that he was tramping the country -with patches upon his breeches. - -While this was taking place, three or four other gentlemen—real and not -shams—appeared upon the scene. For a few minutes they looked and stared -at each other, as if at a loss to know what it all meant, and what the -old man had done wrong. “Oh!” said one and another and another, “it will -never do to let the poor fellow die in this way;” and they at once set to -work to lighten his load, and to give him some nourishment. After -treatment of this kind for a little time, he began to come round again, -and smiles were to be seen upon his face and the faces of his friends. - -Through one of the gates leading into this gipsy encampment I saw running -post haste a number of well-dressed young men and women of respectable -appearance, who were making their way to three or four men from the -Ionian Isles, who had disappointed society and society had disappointed -them. One man stood upon a little hillock, piping forth, in slap-dash -gipsy songs, backwood novels, boshy stories, and gipsy lore, the -beauties, delights, and loveliness of gipsy life in a way that caused a -shivering, aching pang to run through my system from the crown of my head -to the soles of my feet. He continued to tell of the pleasure of white -lies, and taking things that were not your own; and also in feeding upon -things, whether birds, beasts, fish, or game, that lived in the water -that God gave us, or upon the grass that He sent us. “God,” said these -gipsy sensualists, “knew nothing of gates, fences, locks, keys, bars, and -bolts.” These poor misguided young folks listened with open mouths, and -in the end they went into the gipsy tents. They doffed their cloth, put -on gipsy garbs, tanned and washed their faces in walnut water, and -sallied forth into the crowd cadging and begging, lying and stealing—as -only gipsies can. - -Among the crowd of gipsies farther away there were two or three real -Romanys who had “begun to serve God,” and were distributing tracts among -the gipsy children, at which the scissor-grinding _push_ gipsy turned up -his nose. - -On a little mound stood a little man with a _posh_ gipsy woman by his -side, telling those round him that gipsies were angels who had been -wafted from India to our midst by the heavenly breezes of the Celestial -City, and that their ragged and tattered garments were the robes of -Paradise, and whatever they did, however dark and evil, was done under -the influences of the good spirit of gipsydom. One little sharp-eyed -gipsy fellow, named Deliverance Smith, from Kaulo-gav (Birmingham), -called out to the _push_ gipsy, “Sir _posh_ Gorgio, do you mean to say -that these old rags I’ve got on have been made and put upon my back by -angels; and that when I swears, tells lies, fights, and steals, a good -spirit has told me to do so? because if you do, I say it is a lie, and -know better than believe your tale.” The _push_ gipsy called the little -fellow to him and said in a whisper, “I don’t mean what I say, but I must -say something to fill people’s mouths. These girls round me are fond of -a ‘lark,’ and I like them. I know nothing about the other gipsies. Keep -your mouth shut, and here’s sixpence for you.” - -In some of the tents diseased _bálamo-mas_ (pork) was being cooked; in -others, _hotchi-witchi_ (hedgehogs), _kané-gros_ (hares), and _bouris_ -(snails). - -Some of the poor children had never been washed for weeks, except in -walnut-water, which, by continual using, gives them the artificial olive -hue amateur gipsies admire. Those who are sunfreckled are the hardest to -tan. For a time the sunfreckles are seen through the artificial sickly -yellow colour on their faces and hands. Some of the children told me -that they never undressed. The healthy appearance of former day gipsies -is fast passing away, and now, as a rule, they are pale, thin, and -sickly-looking. Many of the adults and children were much pitted with -the smallpox scars. They wore their clothes till they dropped off. - -Outside the encampment stood a number of my friends looking on the scene, -a list of whom will be found in my “Canal Adventures by Moonlight” (p. -125), with recent additions since of a number of warm-hearted friends to -the cause of the canal and gipsy children. - -Some few of the gipsies in this encampment had been married, and that was -the only time that they had ever been inside a church; not one gipsy, -young or old, had ever been inside a school of any kind. Schoolmasters -and ministers were almost unknown to them. They had more acquaintance -with policemen and jails than churches and chapels. - -Connected with one of the gipsy camps of ragamuffins, I noticed in the -distance a tall, thin, unwashed, and emaciated girl of about fourteen -winters—it had been nearly all winter with her. The upper part of her -thin frame of skin and bones was dressed in a few shreds of rags, and -these were not sufficient to cover her bare, dirty bosom, which almost -looked the bosom of a skeleton; and on her feet were odd and worn-out, -cast-off drawing-room shoes, quite equal to the sad emergency of letting -as much mud and water upon her soles as they were to keep the poor lost -creature “high and dry” out of the muddy surroundings. She moved among -the gipsies with a “trash, trash,” and a most downcast and haggard look -of despair upon her face. “Despair” seemed to come with terrible -vengeance and prominence out of every word, form, movement, and gesture; -except when occasional relapses stole over her, and then the tear-drawing -sympathy shone and darted like darts of fire that pierced into the marrow -of my soul, bringing the flush and blush to my face, and tears to my -eyes, whether I would have them or no. No amount of “screwing up,” or -“bottling,” prevented this appearance upon my cheek. The poor girl had -fine Grecian features, with long, black, flowing hair, but it was matted -together with dirt and filth. With her arms uplifted, and her hands -buried scratchingly deep in her hair, she turned to look in the direction -where I lay. This was no sooner done than, a flash of hope lighting up -her thin face with smiles through her tears, she started to run towards -me as fast as she could, calling out, “My father! my father! my father!” -Before I had time to turn round she was at my side, and had planted a -kiss upon my check. For a moment I was dumbfounded. I said to the lost -_posh_ gipsy child, “What is it you want, my dear? I am not your -father.” At this reply she looked wild and almost like a maniac, and -said, with her face buried in her hands, “I thought you was my father who -had come to fetch me out from among the gipsies.” And then she looked -again into my face and said, “Arn’t you my father? my father was so much -like you. He had white hair like you. Arn’t you my father? I wish I -could see my mother. Will she come for me?” I asked her to sit down by -my side, and to tell me who she was. She came a little nearer, and began -to tell me how it was she came to be among the gipsies. I will give her -tale as she related it to me:— - -“When I was a little girl about four years old, I remember my mother -sending me for some milk to a house near to the old General Baptist -Chapel, Church Street, Deptford, {215} and while I was going down the -street some dark ragged women—the same you saw me with—asked me to go -down to the bottom of the street to look at some fine things, and on the -way they gave me a penny and some apples and a little doll. After -walking a long way we did not get to the bottom of the street, but we got -among a lot of children living under a cart cover by the side of the -hedge. They asked me to sit by the fire that was on the ground. I said -I wanted to go to my mother. It was getting dark, and I began to cry. -They kept saying that they would take me to my mother, and at night they -all got into a cart, and said they were taking me home to see my mother, -father, brothers, and sisters. We went a long way, and the way they took -me was not like Deptford, and I have not seen my mother and father -since.” The girl began to cry, and said, “I should like to see father, -mother, Polly, and Jim. It is a long time since I saw them. We used to -go to school together, Jimmy, Polly, and myself. My father used to take -me by the hand to school and chapel on Sundays, and they did sing such -nice hymns. I have seen father and mother cry lots of times. Father -used to say his prayers every night and morning. They don’t say prayers -where I live now. Will you take me to my father and mother? When will -you take me? Take me now, and I will give you everything I have in the -world. Please don’t go and leave me, and I will give you twenty, thirty, -forty, and fifty kisses. I will give you hundreds if you will take me to -my mother and father. I hope they are not dead. I hope Polly and Jim -are alive. Will you take me, please, sir?” - -I told the poor little creature that I could not take her, but that I -would send three or four gentlemen for her shortly. At this she began to -sob out loudly, “Take me! take me! don’t leave me here!” I directed her -to pray to God for deliverance, for there seemed to be none from earth; -and with her eyes turned up to heaven she said with Sir John Davis: - - “Lord! hear my prayer and listen to my cries, - Let not Thy gracious eye my tears despise.” - -To which I said, Amen! - -Large numbers of them had been in jail. Their short cropped hair and -other symptoms told the black tale. - -All the vans, tents, &c., were not to be reckoned as teeming with human -wretchedness, squalor, dirt, filth, and sin. Some ditch and mossy bank -abodes were as clean as the circumstances would admit of, and the tent -and van dwellers were healthy-looking, plump, and clean. - -A terrible row commenced among the gipsies over a dog, which ended in -bloodshed and murder. Right up at the far corner two men were digging a -hole about two feet six inches long, and twelve inches wide, and two feet -deep. After it was dug a woman stole stealthily along with a heavy -parcel in her arms, covered with a cloth, which might or might not have -been a dead dog. As the gipsy woman carrying the mysterious bundle -approached, one of the men withdrew to act as a kind of spy guard. For a -few minutes he looked about, and then called out crouchingly, and in a -loud whisper, “The skies are clear.” The woman ran with death in her -arms, the devil in her heart, and a hellish glare upon her features, and -deposited her load in the cold, cold ground without a tear or a sigh. No -mournful _cortége_ or funeral knell told the tale of what was going on. -Within three minutes all was levelled up, and the three departed—where I -don’t know; at any rate, I have not seen them since. - -Immediately after this sad event I saw coming down the by-lane a School -Board officer, a sanitary officer, and a Christian minister. I watched -with longing eyes to see what they were going to do. They came nearer -and nearer, till they arrived at the gate leading into the meadow. For a -few minutes they stood at the gate, which was locked. I liked the looks -of them. They looked like brothers of mercy. Their countenances were -heavenly. I felt that I could have shouted “Glory.” I hastened to -unlock the gate, and the brothers of mercy walked in to lift the children -upon the path leading to heaven. Just at this juncture a thunderstorm -came on, and the dripping from the leaves overhead woke me up. For a few -minutes I did not know where I was, whether in the body or out of it. -Feeling as Anna Shipton felt when she wrote in the _Sword and Travel_ for -1871:— - - “Thou knowest my way—how lone, how dark, how cheerless, - If Thy dear hand I fail in all to see; - Bright with Thy smile of love my heart is fearless - When in my weakness I can lean on Thee.” - -I pulled myself together to deal with sad, terribly sad, facts, and -continued my walk to Long Buckby, my midday reverie in the land of -shadows, lying between dreams and visions, being over. On mounting the -hill leading into the town I met with a tall old man dressed in a -pauper’s garb, and with a “few slates off.” He said he had lived in a -cottage with the windows nailed up for seventy years. I asked him how -old he was. He answered, “Over seventy.” He next turned the compliment -upon myself, and said, “How old are you?” I said, “Fifty-one.” “Oh,” -said the old man, after looking at my once black hair, which my friends -tell me is now growing snowy white in the cause of the children, hastened -by the bleaching of hard struggles, conflicts, and fightings, “you are -older than me; I thought so.” I said “I did not think so.” - -There are some quaint, ancient-looking houses in the town, evidently of -the time of the Commonwealth. These are built of stone at the bottom, -mud in the middle, and brick at the top, and they are thatched with straw -and end in smoke. In the centre of this “radical town,” peopled with -good-hearted folks, stands a very strong, tall, oak pole, some eighty -feet high, with a crown upon the top of it, which pole was taken many -years ago out of Earl Spencer’s park at Althorp. It is known by the name -of “the coronation pole.” The original “coronation pole” was put up when -George III. was crowned, and was cut down in William IV.’s time, owing, -as one of the very old townsmen said, “to his turning Conservative.” A -man named Hare, whom I had a chat with, helped to saw it down with a -“cross-cut” saw. It was sold publicly for two pounds, and the money -spent in drink in a public-house opposite. The present pole stands some -twenty yards from where the former one stood. The massive crown upon the -top of the pole is similar to the one worn by our blessed and noble -Queen, and long may it remain. - -In the square, and beneath the shadow of the “coronation pole,” were some -six vans, &c. In three of the vans there were eighteen children of all -ages and sizes, seven men and women. None of the children could tell a -letter, but three of the men and women could read and write. One of the -travellers, the father of six of the children, had received his education -at the Bedford Grammar School. With these good-hearted people I had some -tea, and they gave me a cocoa-nut to take home for my family. I gave the -children some pictures and a few articles of clothing for one or two or -three of them, and then wended my way among the feasters and fair-goers. -In the “feast” there was a woman with a “rock stall,” who had been a -Sunday-school scholar, but was now gipsying the country with her two -sons. They slept under their stall at night. She said she thought that -God did, and believed he would, answer the prayers of backsliders before -any others, to which I said, “Amen; He does and will.” I left her with -tears in her eyes for a gossip with Mr. “Flash” and his dark-eyed, sharp, -business wife, who with steam horses and shooting galleries are making -money fast, so that they may “retire in their old age.” Mr. Flash’s -life, struggles, and various vicissitudes present plenty of material for -a backwood gipsy novel of the blunder-bosh kind. - -Flash and his wife were just having a ham tea, and they invited me to -join them, which of course I did, and rubbed my hands quickly with -delight. It was a prime cut, the frizzling and frying of which brought -water to my teeth and a smacking of my lips. I was served with tea out -of one of their best old china cups, which was a treat every one had not -the pleasure of enjoying. After my gipsy rambles I thoroughly enjoyed -the late tea. They showed me their beautiful feather bed at the end of -the van, and unbosomed some of their successes and some of their trials -and hardships. I gave them a few pictures, which they said they should -have framed. They then filled my bag with “prize onions,” and I shook -hands with them, to meet again some day, perhaps at Bagworth or -Barleston, in Leicestershire, where Flash first saw daylight. - -Not one of this batch of _posh_ gipsy travellers raised a murmur against -my plan for bringing about a free education for the gipsy and other -travelling children, and the registration of their vans. - -Just under the glittering crown and “coronation pole” stood what, so far -as the underworks indicated, had been once an old fish cart, over the top -of which had been placed some half-barrel hoops, covered with old -tarpauling sheets. The outside woodwork consisted of pieces of orange -boxes, packing cases, &c., and was daubed over with paint little better -than a child would daub a pigstye door. The dirty patches and blotches -of glaring colours were laid on in an infinitely more zigzag fashion than -the trailmarks of snails and worms. The creaking _door_ was hung with -pieces of leather; in fact, the whole outside, together with the pieces -of old leather straps, and string-tied-together harness, old rags, -buckets, and boxes underneath, presented a sight that I shall never -forget. All this family of Y—ks wanted to make them perfect gipsies was -that they should pick up some gipsy slang, Romany, learn how to eat -hedgehogs, snails, and diseased pork, tell lies, gabble out fortunes, -poison fowls, choke pigs, throttle sheep, take all, by hook or by crook, -they could lay their hands upon, wash their faces in walnut water, roll -about in mud and filth, smoke and eat “black jack,” and adopt the gipsy -names of Smith, Lee, Boswell, Hearn, Lovell, Fletcher, Simpson, Draper. -With these gipsy traits brought out they would be enabled to live a -roving, lively, idle time of it to their hearts’ content. So say some -gipsy writers. What a contrast, I thought, as I saw some young ladies -standing at the window of a large house looking upon the scene only a few -yards away. There a piano, played by gentle, nimble fingers, was sending -forth sweet notes of heavenly, charming music sometimes at a galloping -pace, and at other times as the gentle murmuring of clear rippling waters -over bright and glossy pebbles, echoing love upon earth and peace and -goodwill in the air, turning the widow’s sorrowful tears, the business -parent’s troubles and care drops, into silver stepping-stones leading -onward and upward to heaven. For the life of me I could not help showing -my weakness by lifting up my eyelids to make room for the scalding tears -that wanted to force their way down my cheeks. The wide chasm there is -between human happiness and heaven and human woe and hell is something -horrifying and horrible. Would to God that our sensual, sensational, and -degrading backwood gipsy writers could be brought to see the mischief -they are doing by dragging the poor lost gipsies and other travellers -down to utter ruin, body and soul, for all time and throughout eternity, -by their damning, poisonous writings. - -Inside the van, on the doorsteps, and upon the shafts of their old -tumbledown cart, there were man, woman, and five children. The father -and mother could read and write well, but not one of the children could -tell a letter, although of school age. The eldest girl of fourteen was -the picture of beauty, though terribly thin from the crown of her head to -the soles of her feet; but alas, alas! a few rags, ignorance, exposure, -poverty, dirt, and wretchedness were trying to do their best to spoil it. -The other children, so far as I was able to judge, were equally pretty. -Owing to my not being an amateur gipsy, a backwood gipsy slang and book -writer, of course I do not set myself up as a connoisseur in these -matters. The father was inside the old van stirring the boiling “rock,” -which was in an old saucepan upon a little six-inch square stove similar -to what I have seen in cobblers’ shops before now. He was a big strong -man, apparently capable of any amount of work. The rags of bedding were -grimy, greasy, and dirty to the last degree; in fact, soap and water did -not appear to have been brought to bear upon anything in the wretched -hole. How man, woman, and five children could sleep in such a place is a -mystery. God grant that it may be soon solved by the hand of our -legislators, philanthropists, and Christians of every grade. - -The owner of this travelling van was an engineer and “fitter,” and could, -if he followed his employment, earn over two pounds per week. One -hundred and seventy pounds was paid by his parents as an apprenticeship -premium for him to learn the trade; but, sad to relate, it was ending in -his boiling “rock” upon the top of a stove in the midst of dirt and -filth. This precious dainty, composed of flour, sugar, treacle, and -grease, was to be dealt out by his wife and children by halfpennyworths -to little successful popgun firers. What an occupation and ending for a -tradesman in possession of strength, sense, and reason! He had been well -brought up by Christian parents, but got among loose company, whose chief -desire is to be unshackled and free. - -The little gleam of light in favour of his future reform was that he -seemed to be ashamed of putting his head outside the van. His conscience -was not quite dead. May the thundering voice of heaven ring in his ears -till he cries out as the poor prodigal did, and once more settles down -again in the neighbourhood of Thirsk. - -The woman had been a parlour-maid for three years in the family of R—, at -Sowerby Bridge, in Yorkshire, where this family hails from. She seemed a -hard-working woman, and one who tried hard to make her way, but possessed -with an idea that she should like to see some of the London gipsies. No -doubt by this time she is making her way there. - -The hardships this poor woman and children had to pass through during the -last year are most heartrending. - -During the whole of one month, with occasional assistance of the father, -they had pushed their van about Lincolnshire in the depths of dark, cold, -cold winter. They had no horse, and they presented a too wretched -spectacle for daylight travelling. - -After their day’s work of popgun-firing and “rock”-selling at fairs, -feasts, and races they put one or two of the little children who could -not toddle alongside their van to _bed_—and bed it was—and commenced -crying, pulling and hauling their van up hill and down dale till they got -stuck fast at one of the Lincolnshire towns. By begging, cadging, and -starvation the woman managed to scrape two pounds and some three or four -shillings together, and off she started by rail from Heckington to -Spilsby fair to buy a horse. She had left the children without a morsel -of anything to eat. Every penny had been screwed and scraped together to -make up the two pounds. She wandered about the fair all day, but could -not succeed in buying a horse for two pounds. The horses were being -gradually driven off the ground, the poor woman had had only a dry crust -to eat, sat down and began to cry; in fact, while she was telling me her -sorrowful tale of hardship and suffering, tears rolled freely down her -face, and she kept breaking out in sobs and “The Lord love you” many and -very many times over, with such an effect upon my poor self that I had -but little rest that night. I was quite unnerved, and emptied my pockets -of what little money I had among the poor little _posh_ gipsy children. -While the woman was sitting in her sorrowful fix a man came up to her and -asked her what was the matter with her. The poor creature unbosomed -herself, and told him. They both there and then began to hunt up the old -horses left in the fair; finally they met with one for two pounds—the -grey old pony they had with them standing by the side of the cart when I -saw them—and an animal it was, such as one does not see every day for -bruises, humps, and hunches. - -At four o’clock, with darkness creeping on, and a halter upon the pony’s -head, she commenced to tramp, dressed in rags and trashes, and almost an -empty craw, from Spilsby back to Heckington, a distance of between thirty -and forty miles. Fortunately there was a little moonlight for a good -part of the night, which enabled her to get upon the pony’s back to see -the guide-posts. Several times she took the wrong turning where there -was no guide-post to direct her, but by perseverance righted herself -again. The pony was a little lame, and she could not ride, and on they -tramped together, occasionally resting by the road side as the silent -hours of the cold winterly night quietly and leisurely passed into the -future unseen and unknown, except such of it as has been revealed to us -by the Great Creator Himself. About two o’clock the next day she arrived -at the van door with her old grey pony, and since then they have -travelled hundreds of miles together, sometimes pushing, and sometimes -pulling along the lanes of life. I asked her if she was not afraid to -travel along the lonely lanes and roads leading to Spilsby at the -midnight hour. She answered, “The Lord love you, I should at other -times, but I did not feel a bit afraid on this night. I wanted to get -home with the pony and to see my children, and this kept me a-going -forward. Since then,” said the poor woman, “we’ve had a hard time of it; -in fact, for the last two years we’ve had only six pennyworth of meat, -and six pennyworth of bacon in the van. We live on what we can pick up, -but chiefly on dry bread and tea.” She told me herself that for more -than a fortnight together she had on only an old dress, a chemise in -shreds, and a pair of old boots to move among the fashionable and gay at -the fairs, races, and feasts. Thank God for the hope that dwells within -the breasts of these at the bottom of the social scale that brighter days -will come. Her little girls had not been undressed and washed for weeks, -as they had nothing else to put on while they were being washed; and in -this way many thousands of English men, women, and children are drifting -into damning English gipsy customs, sins, and degrading and depraving -habits, beneath, and encouraged by, the smiles, winks, and gabble of our -backwood gipsy, gem collectors, and sentimental and sensational writers, -who do not care a straw for those whom they are enticing on to ruin, so -long as the gold and silver bits drop into their pockets. - -It is time we roused ourselves, and, with Mr. Ellis in the _Quiver_ for -1878, cried out at the top of our voices, and in prayer from the depths -of our whole souls— - - “Oh, help them, then, if ye are men, - Stretch out thine hand to save. - Let them not sink beneath the brink - O’ the surging ocean wave.” - - - - -Rambles among the Gipsies. Upon Bulwell Forest. At the Social Science -Congress, Nottingham. - - - “Not all in vain good seed I sow, - As up and down the world I go; - Scattering in faith the precious grain, - And waiting till the sun and rain - Of heavenly influence bid it grow.” - - Rev. RICHARD WILTON, M.A. - _Christian Miscellany_, October, 1882. - -SUNDAY morning, September the 24th, was most lovely and delightful. The -buzzing and darting bats were not to be seen. They had retired among the -ruins of old tumbledown walls, creaking doors, and thatch. The horrible -sneaking rats had crept into their holes, ashamed of daylight. The owl -had retired to a dark, dusky nook among the perishing barn stone walls, -to sleep and fatten upon its ill-gotten carrion and the tender bones of -the sweet chirping, variegated songsters that had been unfortunate enough -to come beneath its ravenous clutches. The bright sun was shedding its -light, tinged with a little of the autumnal golden hue, upon our rough, -rugged, and antiquated dwelling. The robin seemed more proud than ever -to show its beautiful red breast, and to get ready to pipe forth the -praises of Jehovah from the branches of the old yew trees near the -orchard. The swallows were darting by our windows, as if nervous about -their long flight, and anxious to have as many peeps at us as possible -before bidding us good-bye for their long journey far, far away. Our -fowls had, according to their usual custom on Sunday mornings, gathered -themselves together under the shed in the yard to listen to the -intonation of their friend “Tom.” The sheep and cattle were grazing in -the meadows, and sheaves of golden corn stood upright in the fields, -inviting the farmers to carry them home to fill the barns of the rich, -the coffers of the banker, the empty bellies of the poor widow, toilers -in the field and brickyard, dwellers in canal-boat cabins, and gipsy -tents, vans, and wigwams. Our village church bells had begun to ring, -and my wife was, of necessity, breaking the Sabbath by restoring with her -bodkin and thread some of my habiliments while I stood bolt upright, so -as to make me presentable at court, which process caused a twitter among -our “olive branches.” I now scraped together all the money I could, and -with my “Gladstone bag” in hand, containing among other things my -Sunday’s dinner, consisting of a slice of bread and butter and an apple, -and my seedy-looking overcoat, turned the best side towards London, I -started to the station. The bells were chiming and pealing soft and low, -and our little folks were tripping off to church with their curls -dangling down their backs, and dressed in their best “bib and tucker.” -On the way I came upon an Irishman sitting upon a stone minding some -sheep that were munching grass by the roadside. For his companion he -had, as the Rev. Mr. Vine says in the _Wesleyan Methodist Magazine_, -February, 1877, - - “Naught but the sky, the rough hewn rocks, - Green belts of grass, and fleecy flocks.” - -To me it seemed as if he had a small crucifix in his hand, and was -counting beads; if so, I interrupted him by calling out “Good morning,” -to which Pat responded, “Good morning, yer honour; an’ it is a fine -morning, yer honour.” I left him in his devotion, and next came upon a -couple of dirty shoemakers from Daventry, with as much watercress in -their arms as they could carry, stolen from the water-brook close by -while the farmers were in church and the dogs tied up. - -I now ran against a youth from the station who was gathering -blackberries. At his feet, in the hedge-bottom, a hare was quietly -nestling. Poor fellow! he let his blackberries fall to grasp the hare, -which allowed him the moment’s pleasure of catching its tail, but, much -to the chagrin of the youth, did not leave it behind, forcibly -illustrating the case of the dog in Æsop’s Fables crossing a plank with a -piece of meat in its mouth, which it let fall to grasp the shadow. “Oh!” -said the flushed youth, “I nearly caught it.” - -In the train there were several gentlemen. One was reading the -_Christian World_, and another was reading a sporting paper. At Nuneaton -I had two hours to wait for the next train to Leicester. The interval -was spent in pacing backwards and forwards upon the platform, and in -eating with a thankful heart my Sunday’s dinner, which, not to say the -least of, was not too rich for my digestive organs. - -I fared better than an old gipsy woman, Boswell, who, with her -daughter-in-law—a gipsy Smith from London—and their five poor -half-starved gipsy children, came to our door recently. The old woman, -Boswell, had only an outer old frock upon her, with two or three old rags -underneath. She had no “shift” on, as she said. This family of -travelling gipsies consisted of two men, mother and daughter-in-law, and -five children, the whole of whom “slept under their tilted barrow” at -Buckby wharf in a hedge-bottom. Not one of this lot could tell a letter. - -At Nuneaton I conversed with a gentleman who gave me a little of his -history, some of which was remarkable, especially that part relating to -his courtship and marriage. “Ah!” said my friend with a tone of sadness, -“I had the misfortune to lose my wife by cruel death, and was left with -four little children to get through the world as best we could. It was a -sad blow, sir. I don’t know whether you have ever undergone such a -trial, but my experience of it is that it is one of the greatest -misfortunes that can ever befall mortal man, and I’ve nothing but pity -for the man who has had to undergo the sad loss. Oh! it’s terrible, sir. -After you have been toiling hard all day in the cold rain, frost, and -snow, and then to go home to find no one to warm your slippers, or to -speak a kind, soothing, and cheering word to you, was more than I could -bear. To sit and eat your bread and butter and drink your tea alone, -while the servants and the children were playing in the streets, was -enough to turn any man into a wild animal.” I said to him, “Certainly it -is a terrible ordeal, and one that I should not like to pass through.” -“Yes it is,” said my friend, almost in whimpering tones. “Well, how did -you get out of your sad difficulty?” I said. “Well, sir, things went on -for some months in a path in which there seemed nothing but vexation. -The servants were quarrelling, the children were neglected, and bills -seemed to be coming in without end; and while I was brooding over these -things one afternoon, in came a minister from Derby, and he saw the fix I -was in, and that I could not get him as nice a cup of tea as formerly; -and, to help me out of my difficulty, he said, ‘My dear brother, when the -proper time comes, I know where there’s a wife that will suit you.’ ‘Do -you?’ I said to my ministerial friend. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I do.’ At this -I pricked up my ears, and he said, ‘I am going to their house for tea -next week, and if you like you shall go with me.’ ‘All right,’ I said. -Nothing more passed that evening on the subject. During the week he -wrote to me, asking me to meet him at Derby station. Of course I thought -I would go; they could not take anything of me, and I went. In going to -the house I began to get into a nervous stew. On the way my friend said, -‘Now there are two sisters in the house living with their mother. It -will be the one with a blue ribbon round her waist who I think will suit -you. After they have been in their room to dress for the afternoon she -generally comes out the first.’ ‘All right,’ I said, ‘I’ll keep my eyes -open.’ At the door the mother met us, and gave us a hearty welcome. The -young ladies were in their room, and I was playing with my fingers upon -the arm of the sofa. Presently a young lady came downstairs. Of course -I had my eyes upon the waistband, to see whether it was a blue one; but, -to my astonishment, it was green. In a few minutes the other young lady -came downstairs with the blue ribbon round her waist. I concluded that -this was the one my friend the parson had selected for me. Tea was got -ready, and instead of entering freely into the general conversation, I -kept looking first at one and the other of the young ladies at tea, and -playing with my fingers between time. When tea was over and the service -ended, on the way home my friend the parson said, ‘Well, which of the two -do you like best?’ ‘Oh!’ I said, ‘I’m not particular; I’ll take to -either of them; but as the eldest is nearer to my age, I think I will -make love to her,’ taking it all as a joke. Nothing more was said. -During the next week I was a long way from home on business, and I -ventured to write to Deborah, telling her who I was, and what little game -I was up to, and asking her to meet me at the station to have a chat -together on the subject about which I wrote. The young lady was, so I’ve -been told since, dumbfounded, and said to her sister, ‘Of all the men in -the world I will not have him; I don’t like him a bit. He did not at all -seem to make himself comfortable at tea. I shall not go to meet him.’ -‘Well,’ said the other sister with the green waistband, ‘If you don’t go -I shall. He will suit me.’ ‘Well,’ said the one with the blue -waistband, ‘if he will suit you he will suit me, and I will go to meet -him at the station.’ Accordingly I got out of the train, so that she -might know me again, and on we went to Derby and made matters square; -and—would you believe me, sir?—in three weeks from that time we were -married.” I said, “Well, bless me!” The rapidity of his courting -expedition almost took the wind out of me. The station bell now rang. I -jumped into the train, and as I was moving off towards Leicester I bade -my new friend good-bye; and he, in return, waving his hand, said, “I will -tell you the rest another day, and what we saw on our wedding tour in -London, Antwerp, Brussels, Mastricht, Rotterdam, and Amsterdam.” “All -right,” I said, and we puffed away, leaving quite a pother behind. - -In the train were two young female “school teachers,” who had been a -“gipsying” to Coventry by the “special” from Leicester on the Saturday -afternoon, and, whether by accident or design, they had been left behind. -I questioned them about the suspicious circumstance attached to such a -course, to which they replied, “As soon as we arrived at the station, and -found that the train had been gone five minutes, we nearly cried our eyes -out. Fortunately we had friends in Coventry with whom we stayed all -night.” - -I told them to be good girls and do better for the future, to which they -replied, “We will,” and I left them to make my way down Belgrave Gate to -my sister-in-law’s. After tea we went to St. Mark’s church, and heard a -smiling young curate, the Rev. A. F. Maskew, preach a good, practical, -telling sermon, on the occasion of returning thanks to Almighty God for -the success that has attended our army and navy and the termination of -the war in Egypt. The Rev. C. B. — was away on his holiday. After the -service the congregation stood up and heartily joined the choir in -singing, “God save the Queen.” To which I responded with all my heart, -“Amen! God bless our blessed Queen.” - -Right always comes right. After service I took a walk, with “a young -lady” of some forty-five gentle summers and hard winters at my left side, -to visit the new park in the abbey meadows. The sight was most -enchanting. Few lovers were on the walks with their arms entwined round -each other’s waists. The artificial lakes, hills, and rockeries were -seen with solemn grandeur by the aid of distant lamps. The moving -murmuringly forward of the “soar” waters beneath our feet, as we stood on -the bridge, lighted up with silver streaks of distant lamps, and the -pealing forth of the soft, heavenly, riveting, and mesmerizing hymns and -chimes of the evening bells of St. Mark’s and St. Saviour’s, made me feel -that all the troubles, trials, opposition, misrepresentation, and -hardship I had passed through were suddenly transformed into pleasures, -leading up to the indescribable panoramic views that appeared before my -vision. As it passed away—or, I should say, I passed from it—another one -opened up which led me on and on in spirit to the heavenly rest and -everlasting beauty in store. The Rev. Richard Wilton says— - - “Let Nature’s music still the ear delight, - And gracious echoes mortal cares allay, - Till “wood-notes” ’mid angelic warbling cease, - And “church bells” ring us to eternal peace.” - -In a few minutes after this I was between the sheets, and I could have -said with John Harris, as sleep stole gently into my room— - - “Hark! What is that? The spirit of the vale? - Or is it some bright angel by the lake?” - -And the last I remember was, I was muttering over “by” “by” “the” “lake,” -“by” “by” “the” “the” “lake,” “la—la,” and I was bound fast to the bed. - -A quondam friend bade me “good morning,” and then jumped into a “first -class” to recite his “R’s” and “S’s” so as to give them the finishing -touch correctly the next Sunday morning, while I enjoyed the honour and -pleasure of a “third.” We arrived together at Nottingham, and I made my -way to a “temperance hotel,” not half a mile from the station, with -“first-class” appearances outside, but with “third-class” bedroom -accommodation. My room was a “top back,” overlooking well-known old -friends, viz., bricks, tiles, terra-cotta, sanitary pipes, encaustic -tiles, &c, with a board in the corner covered with oilcloth for a washing -stand, and a tea saucer for a “soap tray.” The bed was hard, and the -blind was of a material that needed no washing; in fact, the room was -bare, cheerless, comfortless, and cold. I strolled into the -market-place, and was soon talking to some old-fashioned Staffordshire -gipsies with short skirts, and apparently, thick legs, heavy boots, with -plenty of colour about their “head-gear,” who, taking all things into -consideration, were not bad specimens of gipsies of the present day. - -After this I spent a short time with my old friend, Mr. William Bradshaw, -a name which has been well known in the midland counties for many long -years. Writing and gossiping consumed the remainder of the day; and at -ten o’clock I mounted and climbed nearer heaven to rub my eyes again at -peep o’ day. Between four and five o’clock I was in and out of my hard -bed a dozen times, guessing the time and groping in the dark, for fear I -might miss the train to Bulwell Forest. At last I got so fidgety that I -was determined to get up, “hit or miss.” I dressed, and then went -downstairs to find my way out into the street; but, not having an angel, -like Peter, to open the doors for me, I had to ring and ring and shout -sufficient to awaken all in the house; if they had been as deaf as posts, -I could not have had a greater difficulty to awaken them. At last the -landlord made his appearance with his shirt on, and his hair on an end -like a frightened ghost. Owing to my early movements, and being a -suspicious-looking customer, I had to pay my bill, and out I went about -half-past five. My train started for Bulwell at six o’clock, and at six -thirty I was among the gipsies upon the forest. There were four vans -full of gipsies of all sorts and sizes, just turning out of their “bed;” -so dirty were they that I should not have been surprised if the “beds” -had run away with them. “Smiths” and “Winters” were the two prominent -names. “Bless me,” I said, there are “gipsy Smiths here, there, and -everywhere.” “Yes, you are right, my good mon,” said Mrs. Gipsy Winter -in a Staffordshire twang. In the four vans there would be twelve adults -and eighteen poor, rough, dirty, neglected little gipsy children, not one -of whom could read or write. The policeman said to me, “The gipsies that -come on this forest and about these parts are a rough, dirty, bad lot, -and no mistake. Nowt comes amiss that they can lay their hands upon, I -can assure you.” I had a chat with Mrs. Gipsy Winter, and told her what -my object was, viz., to bring their vans under registration, and also to -give their children a free education; to which she replied with delight, -“Lor, bless you, my good mon, I’m reight glad you big fokes are going to -do sommat in the way o’ givin’ our childer a bit o’ eddication, for -they’re nowt as it is. They are growin’ up as ignorant as osses; they -conner tell a ‘b’ from a bull’s foot. I conner read mysen, but I should -like our childer to be able to read and write. Han you got one o’ your -eddication pass books wi’ yer? cause if yer han, I’ll ha’ one.” I told -her that the Act was not passed authorizing the use of them; at which she -held down her head, and said, “I suppose we mun wait a long time fust.” -“Yes,” I said, “it will not be this year.” - -Mrs. Gipsy Winter had upon her finger a Masonic ring—_i.e._, a ring with -the “square” and “compasses” engraved upon it. Of course I felt sure she -was not a Freemason, and did not proceed to put her to the test. There -never was but one woman a Freemason, and the reason was that she secreted -herself in an old clock case while the ceremonies were being performed in -the Lodge “close tiled.” The only way out of the awkward difficulty was -to make her a Mason forthwith on the spot, and this—so Masonic squib and -report has it—was done. This report of “our Masonic sister” is to be -taken with a pinch of snuff. - -I called to see a family of gipsy Woodwards who have taken a house and -are settling down the same as other folk. Those of their children that -are able to work are working at the coalpits close by, and the children -of school age are sent to school. In the course of time they will become -as other workers, helping on the welfare of the country, and at the same -time securing their own comfort and happiness. The house did not present -the appearance of a fidgety old maid’s drawing-room, but they are up the -first steps towards it. Time and encouragement will bring it round in -the sweet “good time coming.” “Wait a little longer, boys; wait a little -longer.” - -It is complete bosh, nonsense, wickedness, and misleading folly for -frothy novelists to say that it is impossible for gipsies to settle down -to industrious habits and a regular life. I know full well they can, and -are willing, many of them, to settle down, if means be taken to bring it -about. I will only mention one case, to illustrate many others, viz., a -gipsy I know well, who is as pure a gipsy as it is possible to find at -this late day. The good old man has had a settled home for forty years, -and goes to hard work night and morning amongst the farmers, the same as -other labourers do. Aye, and many times he works late and early, dining -at times off a crust and a cup of cold water with a thankful heart in the -week-day, and sings God’s praises on Sundays. - -To come back again to Bulwell Forest. After I had visited the Woodwards -I turned into a small coffee-shop to get a cup of tea; and while I was -enjoying the penny cup of tea with a halfpenny’s-worth of bread and -butter for my breakfast, the landlord said: “One of the young gipsy -rascals of the forest came into my shop last week, and made himself too -friendly and free with some things that lay upon the table, for which I -could have put him into jail; but I did not like to follow it up, and the -lot of them have made themselves scarce since.” Another old woman, a -seller of the _Nottingham Daily Journal_, _Nottingham Daily Guardian_, -_Express_, _&c._, said, “The gipsies often come into my house and want to -tell me my fortune; but I always tell them that I know it better than -they can tell me, and will have no cotter with them.” - -I next came upon a gipsy named L—, who told me of a case of gipsy -kidnapping which took place at Macclesfield a year ago, viz., that of a -gipsy woman stealing a pretty little girl of tender years out of the -streets, belonging to a fairly well-to-do tradesman living in the town. -Although the child was advertised for a long time, and large rewards -offered, it was not to be found, till one day a gipsy girl went to one of -the shops in Macclesfield to sell some gipsy “clothes pegs.” The good -woman of the house came to the door. Although five long years had passed -away, tears had been dried up again and again, and hundreds of prayers -had gone upward to Him who hears prayers and sighs, and the child had -grown big and brown, and was dressed in rags and filth, the mother -recognized the poor gipsy child standing at her door hawking “pegs” as -her own dear little darling “Polly.” Without waiting for the lost child -to be washed, dressed, and its hair combed, she embraced her darling -little lost daughter covered in rags with fond kisses, which told a tale -through the gipsy dirt upon the child’s face, as only a tender-hearted, -loving mother can, and straightway called in her friends and neighbours, -and said, “Rejoice with me, for I have found this day my long-lost little -darling Polly.” A policeman was sent for, the kidnapping gipsy woman was -traced, and was sentenced to eighteen months’ hard labour in jail for her -wrong-doing. - -I was also told of gipsies who are undergoing long terms of penal -servitude for horse-stealing, their favourite game—sheep stand second on -the list. Donkeys are very low down upon their list, as they are not -worth “shot and powder.” “If a gipsy should get ‘nabbed’ for stealing a -donkey, it would be looked upon in the eyes of the bobbies,” said my -gipsy friend, “like stealing a horse.” - -A whirl, twirl, puff, and a whiz landed me upon the platform in the -“Health Department” at the University College, Nottingham, September 26, -1882, with my bags, books, and papers, among the large gathering of -Social Science magnates and doctors, to discuss—firstly, the Canal Boats -Act Amendment Bill of 1881, which I am humbly promoting; and secondly, -“The Conditions of our Gipsies and their Children, with Remedies.” Among -others upon the platform there were Mr. Arnold Morley, M.P., Mr. W. H. -Wills, M.P., Mr. Whately Cook Taylor, Chairman, one of Her Majesty’s -Chief Inspectors of Factories; Mr. H. H. Collins, Hon. Secretary of the -Health Department; Mr. J. Clifford Smith, Secretary to the Social Science -Association; and in the body of the hall there were Dr. Hill, the Medical -Officer of Health for Birmingham; Mr. Walter Hazell, Mr. Russell of -Dublin, and a large gathering of ladies, “too numerous to mention.” - -I had expected to find a large opposition force confronting me, -consisting of those who would keep the canal and gipsy children in their -present degraded condition; but, like the Midianitish host, the breaking -of my cracked pitcher had frightened them out of their wits, and they had -scampered off to the hedges and ditches to skulk in front of me again -another day. No doubt with my papers, Gladstone bag, spectacles, &c., I -presented very much the appearance of “Mrs. Gamp” at her speechifying -table. - -These are my papers with all their faults and living seeds, sown and -planted at the Master’s bidding, in the midst of much toil, hardship, and -persecution; which seeds will bring forth a little eternal fruit some -day—maybe, when my work is done, and I have been called home to rest with -the little ones. - - - -_The Condition of our Gipsies and their Children_, _with Remedies_. - - -In the year 1514 the gipsies landed in Scotland from the Continent, and -from that date to the present time we have had in our midst over 30,000 -men, women, and children with increasing numbers, going to and from our -villages, towns, lanes, and fairs, and mixing with the simple, wise, gay, -and foolish, leading the lives of vagabonds, demoralizing all they have -been brought in contact with, by their lying, plundering, dirty, filthy, -cheating, and crafty habits. In one word, the gipsies have been, and -still are, a disgrace to Christian civilization. Of course there are -exceptions among them, and I wish from the bottom of my heart that there -were more. - -They live huddled together regardless of either sex, age, or decency, -under hedges, in tents, barns, or on the roadside, with but little regard -for marriage ceremonies. - -Their food, in many instances, is little better than garbage and refuse, -and the most riff-raff of them bed themselves upon rotten straw. - -We have also, at this late day, with sunny education gleaming on every -hand, over 30,000 poor gipsy children of school age growing up as -vagabonds, and not two per cent. of the whole able to read or write a -sentence. - -If our present-day gipsies had been of the romantic type of some two or -three centuries ago, as pictured to us so beautifully by fascinating -novelists, we might have wandered down the country green lanes, and by -the side of rivulets, to admire their witchery, colours, and gipsy -traits, exhibited with much refined skill, artistic touch, and feeling by -gipsy writers; but the fact is, to state it plainly, the romantic gipsy -of novels and romance has been dead long ago, and neither the stage, -romance, nor imagination will ever bring him to life again in this -country. - -Our gipsies of to-day are neither more nor less than ignorant, idle -tramps, scamps, and vagabonds. This I know full well, for I have found -it out over and over again, not by hearsay, but by mixing and eating with -them in their wretched abodes often during the last five years. - -My sorrowful experience of them forty years ago, with casual -acquaintances since, and onward to 1878, has not brought any traits of -their character, as practised by them, that any sane-thinking, loyal, or -observing man can admire, and the sooner our legislators deal with our -gipsy vagabonds the better it will be for us as a nation. - -Many of the gipsies have large hearts, and are most kindly, and they are -also clever and musical. These features of gipsy life I have witnessed -myself many times. The cause of their degraded position may be laid at -the door of our Christian apathy, legislative indifference, social -deadness, and philanthropic neglect. - -The flickering and uncertain efforts of missionary agency will do -something towards reclaiming our poor lost wandering little brothers and -sisters, but not a tithe of what the social, sanitary, and educational -laws of the country can do. - -In the paper I had the honour to read before this Congress at Manchester, -in 1879, I dealt more especially with the evils of gipsy life, only -referring briefly to my remedy, the substance of which I have published -in my “Gipsy Life,” and in various forms since 1878, and onward to this -date, which, with additional suggestions, are as follow:— - -1. I would have all movable or temporary habitations registered and -numbered, and under proper sanitary arrangements in a manner analogous to -that provided under the Canal Boats Act of 1877. - -2. Not less than 100 cubic feet of space for each female above the age -of twelve, and each male above the age of fourteen; and not less than 50 -cubic feet of space for each female under the age of twelve, and for each -male under the age of fourteen. - -3. No male above the age of fourteen, and no female above the age of -twelve, should be allowed to sleep in the same tent, or van, as man and -wife, unless separate sleeping accommodation and suitable ventilation be -provided. - -4. A registration certificate to be obtained, and renewable annually at -any of the urban or rural sanitary authorities in the country, for which -the owner of the tent, or van, shall pay a sum of 10s., commencing on the -first of January in each year. - -5. The compulsory attendance at day schools a given number of times of -all travelling children, or others, living in temporary or unrateable -dwellings up to the age required by the Education Code, which attendance -should be facilitated and brought about by means of a free educational -pass book, procurable at any bookseller’s, for the sum of one shilling, -as I have suggested to meet the case of canal children. - -6. The children to be at liberty to attend any National, British, Board, -or other day schools under the management of properly qualified -schoolmasters. - -7. No child under thirteen years of age to be engaged in any capacity -for either hire or profit, unless such child shall have passed the “third -standard” of the Education Code. - -8. No child or young person to work for either hire or profit on Sundays -under the age of sixteen. - -9. Power to be given to any properly qualified sanitary officer, School -Board visitor, inspector, or Government official, to enter the tents, -vans, shows, or other temporary or movable dwelling, at any time, or in -any place, and detain them if necessary, for the purpose of seeing that -the law is properly carried out. - -10. The Local Government Board to have power to appoint one, or two, or -more officials to see that the local authorities enforce and carry out -the Act; and also to report to Parliament annually. - -11. All fines to be paid over to those authorities who enforce the Act -and the regulations of the Local Government Board. - -12. As an encouragement to those gipsy wanderers who cannot afford to -have healthy and suitable travelling vans and other abodes, and who -desire to settle down from their wandering and degrading existence to -industrious habits the Government should purchase common or waste lands, -or allot lands of their own to the gipsies in small parcels upon a long -lease—say for ninety-nine years—at a nominal rent. - -With these features embodied in an Act of Parliament, and properly -carried out by the local authorities, under the supervision and control -of the Local Government Board and Education Department, gleams of a -brighter day might be said to manifest themselves upon our social -horizon, which will elevate our gipsies and their children into a -position that will reflect a credit instead of a disgrace to us as a -civilized nation. - - “And shall he be left in the streets to room, - An outcast live and wild? - ‘God forbid!’ you say. Then help, I pray. - To provide for the [gipsy child].” - - Rev. I. CHARLESWORTH, _Sword and Trowel_, 1671. - -_The Canal Boats Act of_ 1877, _and the Amending Bills of_ 1881 _and_ -1882. By GEORGE SMITH, of Coalville. - -In 1877 an Act was passed entitled “The Canal Boats Act of 1877,” on the -basis sketched out by me in a paper I had the honour to read before this -Congress, held at Liverpool in 1876; and also in my letters, articles, -&c., which have appeared in the lending journals, and in my works since -the passing of the Act and onward from 1872 to this date. - -After the Bill was drawn up, and during its progress through committee in -1877, several features were foreshadowed in the measure which led me to -fear that when passed it would not accomplish all we so much desired, and -these I pointed out to the late Lord Frederick Cavendish, the Right Hon. -W. E. Forster, Mr. Salt, Parliamentary Secretary to the Local Government -Board; Mr. John Corbett, M.P., Mr. Pell, M.P., Mr. P. Rylands, M.P., Mr. -Sampson Lloyd, MP., Mr. W. E. Price, M.P., and many others; but rather -than yield to the opposition of the Canal Association, and the loss of -the Bill, I suggested that it should be passed, notwithstanding the -drawbacks that were in sight. - -When Lord Frederick Cavendish, Mr. Price, and others, at the fag end of -the session of 1877, put the question seriously to me, as to whether the -Bill should not be massacred along with the other innocents, I replied as -follows: “Push the Bill through Committee by all means. A piece of a -loaf is better than none. It has its defects, but if we do not get the -Bill passed this year we shall not be likely to do so next year. Let us -get the thin end of the wedge in. The operation of the Act will be to -bring about the registration of the canal boats, to give power to the -sanitary officers to enter the cabins, to secure the education of the -40,000 canal children, and also to prevent overcrowding in the cabins.” - -The first step towards carrying out the Act, after five years’ continued -agitation and visits to various parts of the country, has been fairly -accomplished; and the sanitary officers, by the power given to them under -the Act, have done good by preventing, in some degree, the spread of -infectious diseases; but the main features of the Act, viz., the -education of the canal children, the prohibition of overcrowding in the -cabins, and the annual registration of the boats, are almost entirely -neglected. - -The following are the failing points of the Act of 1877: - -1. The Act to a great extent is permissive. 2. Proceedings cannot be -taken against the boatmen and boatowners for evading the regulations of -the Local Government Board—the most important of all. Breakers of this -Act can be brought under the lash of the law, but breakers of the -regulations cannot. 3. The Act of 1877 is placed in the hands of the -local registration authorities to carry out, consequently the expenses -fall upon the ratepayers, and the result is that the local sanitary -inspectors, or registration officers, have had but little added to their -salaries—in many instances nothing—and with strict orders not to go -beyond their town or city boundaries. Thus it will be seen that boats -plying between the registration districts, which are as a rule between -twenty and fifty miles apart, are left to themselves. 4. Another -oversight in the Act is the non-annual registration of the boats, and -consequently there have been no fees to meet the expenses. It was -intended from the first that there should be an annual registration of -the boats. 5. The want of power in the Act to enable the Local -Government Board to appoint officers to supervise, control, inspect, -enforce, and report to Parliament upon the working of the Act and the -regulations. 6. Another cause of failure in the Act has been owing to -power not having been given to inspectors to enter the cabins or inspect -the boats at any other time than “by day.” Boats are more or less on the -move by day, and it is only when they are tied up—which generally happens -after six o’clock—or when they are being loaded or unloaded, that the -local registration officer has an opportunity to see or to form any idea -as to what number of men, women, and children are sleeping and huddling -together in the cabins. 7. The Act does not give the School Board -officer power to enter a boat cabin. The education clauses of the Act -have, I might almost say, entirely failed: (_a_) owing to the -indifference manifested by the school authorities at which places the -boats are registered as belonging to; (_b_) the extra trouble they give -to the school attendance officers; (_c_) the facilities given and the -chances seized by the boatmen to get outside the town or city boundaries -with their children so as to elude the grasp or shun the eye of the -School Board officer. 8. The payment of a week’s school fees demanded -from the children who can only attend one or two days in the week. It is -not either fair, honest, or just to compel a boatman to pay more for the -education of his children than others have to pay. 9. Many boats in the -coal districts, with women and children on board, travelling short -distances, have escaped registration and inspection under the plea that -their boats are not used as dwellings. 10. Another very important reason -advanced by the registration authorities why the boatmen and boatowners -have not been prosecuted for breaches of the Act is that all the trouble -and expense attending prosecutions have had to be borne by the local -ratepayers, while the fines, in accordance with the Act of 1877, have -been paid over to the county fund, instead of the borough or local fund. - -The Bill I am humbly promoting, and which has been before Parliament -during the last two sessions, supported by Lord Aberdare, Earl Stanhope, -Earl Shaftesbury, the Marquis of Tweeddale, Mr. Samuel Morley, M.P., Mr. -Albert Pell, M.P., Mr. John Corbett, M.P., Mr. Thos. Salt, M.P., Mr. -Thos. Burt, M.P., and Mr. H. Broadhurst, M.P., provides a remedy for -these faulty places. 1. I would do away with the permissive features of -the Act of 1872. 2. Fines to be inflicted for breaches of the -regulations, as well as for breaches of the Act. 3. I give under the Act -the local registration authorities part of the registration fees. I -propose that the annual registration fee should be 5s. for each boat, one -half of this amount to go to the Government, and the other half to the -local authorities. 4. The registration of the boats to be annual. This -will be a very simple and inexpensive affair, no matter in what -registration district the boat happens to be at the time of the renewal. -5. I give under the Bill the Local Government Board power to appoint one, -two, or more officials to visit the canals in various parts of the -country, and to see to the proper enforcement of the Act, and to report -annually to Parliament. 6. I propose that the inspectors should have -power to enter a canal boat at any “reasonable hour.” 7. No child shall -be employed on a canal boat unless such child shall have passed the -“third standard.” 8. I propose that children, whom the regulations allow -to live in the cabins, should have a free educational pass book, which -would enable them to attend any day school while the boats are being -loaded and unloaded. 9. No child under the age of sixteen to work on a -canal boat on Sundays. 10. All boats upon which there is accommodation -for cooking or sleeping to be deemed to be used as dwellings. 11. All -fines to be paid over to those authorities who enforce the Act. - -When the Canal Boats Act of 1877 is amended in accordance with the lines -I have laid down in the Bill, the stigma that has been resting upon the -country and our canal population, numbering nearly 100,000 men, women, -and children, during the last 125 years, will be in an easy way for -removal, without inconvenience or costing the country one farthing, and -the boatowners and captains not more than 2s. 6d. each per annum. - -With the proper carrying out of the Act the 40,000 boat children of -school age, not ten per cent. of whom can read and write, will be -educated, and the boatmen’s homes made more healthy and happy; -industrious habits will be encouraged, and the country will also be made -richer by increasing the happiness of her water toilers upon our rivers -and canals. - - “Oh, help them, then, if ye are men, - And, when thy race is run, - Turn not aside, nor think with pride - Thy work in life is done.” - - ELLIS, _Quiver_. - -My papers passed off in the midst of smiles and kindly and lengthy _press -notices_. Editors have always been more kind to me than I have deserved, -much more than I had anticipated. The fact is, I had expected some rough -handling, and armed myself with a few little rough, awkward facts. -Perhaps it was fortunate for me that the majority of my hearers were of -the gentler sex. Bless their dear hearts! Their encouraging smiles and -words have helped me through many a difficulty in pushing on with the -cause of the children. May God reward them a thousandfold. - -The act was ended, and the curtain dropped. I therefore “picked up my -crumbs,” and bade my friends goodbye till—D.V. and if all’s well—we meet -again next year at Huddersfield. I then made my way to the station, and -home. Upon Leicester platform I met with a few old friends, who had -pleasant greetings for me, including Mr. Thompson, Mr. Fox, and a -literary friend, the Rev. W. L. Lang, F.R.G.S., who has given myself and -the cause I have in hand many lifts—bless him for it. Onward and upward -may he travel to the time when it shall be said, “It is enough.” And to -my many other friends who have helped me by their influence and with -their pens, I repeat the same thing over and over again. - -My little stock of the “one thing needful” had begun to turn quite -modest, and crept into the corners of my pocket, so as to be scarcely -felt among the keys of boxes, drawers, cupboards, and lockers, knives, -and other pocket trifles. I took my ticket to Rugby, which left me with -one shilling. I had not gone far before my ticket was missing out of my -hand. I was in a minute “all of a stew.” Cold perspiration crept over -me. In a twinkle, before any one could say “Jack Robinson,” my hands -were at the bottom of my pockets using their force to persuade Mr. -“Ticket” to turn up; but no! it was not to be found. Fortunately a -porter came panting after me and asked if I had not lost my ticket. He -had lifted a ton weight off my shoulders, and I thanked him very much. -At Rugby I spent my last coin in copies of the _Times_, _Standard_, -_Daily News_, _Telegraph_, _Daily Chronicle_, _and Morning Post_. In -nearing our old antiquated village along the lovely green lanes, little -village children were to be seen gathering blackberries. The sun was -shining most beautifully in my face. The autumnal tints and hues were to -be seen upon the trees. The gentle rustling wind brought the decaying -and useless leaves hesitatingly and in a zigzag fashion to the ground, as -if they were loath to leave the trees which had given them birth, before -settling among the mud to be trampled upon by tramps and gipsies. While -climbing the last hill, with a heavy heart and light pocket, weighed on -all sides with nervous hope, trembling doubts, and anxious fears, I never -more fully realized the force of John Wesley’s hymn, as I tried to hum it -over. In soft but faltering accents I might have been heard by the -village children singing— - - “No foot of land do I possess, - No cottage in this wilderness. - A poor wayfaring man, - I lodge awhile in tents below, - Or gladly wander to and fro, - Till I my Canaan gain.” - -The first thing that caught my eye upon my library table was a letter -from Mr. Samuel Morley, M.P., in which was enclosed a cheque to aid in -building a Good Templar hall at Northampton, about which I had written. -This was duly sent to Mr. Hollowell, the secretary. Underneath Mr. -Morley’s letter lay one from a friend, Mr. Frank A. Bevan, of 54, Lombard -Street, enclosing a small cheque on behalf of himself, Lord Aberdare, and -a number of friends, to help me in my work, and to provide for the daily -wants of my little ones, till we arrived at the next stile on our rough, -steep, and somewhat zigzag journey. The sight of his cheque sent a -thrill of joy through my soul, and I could not help shouting out, -“Thanks! a thousand times.” - -Light again dawned at eventide, and we were enabled to retire to rest -singing God’s praises as the candle flickered in the socket. - -In my “Gipsy Life” I have shown, among other things which have never been -mentioned by any gipsy writer before, the following particulars. First, -the cause and probable date of the gipsies leaving India; second, the -route by which they travelled to Europe; and third, the cause of their -persecution after their arrival in England from the continent. - -My gipsy paper did not give universal satisfaction to everybody outside -the congress. My plain matter-of-fact statements raised the ire of a few -little narrow-souled mortals, who had not the courage to appear in their -own dress, and borrowed other people’s clothes—_shooba Rye_, &c.—to -crouch in while they fired their popguns at me. Just as they were trying -to swallow my papers, an article appeared in the _Morning Post_, stating -that I “knew more than any man in England about the gipsies.” This was -more than _O Bongo_, _ho_, _no tïckno chavo_ could stand. Editors are -not like most mortals, they have a perfect right to say what they please -about anybody and everybody. They and other literary friends have been -more than kind to the cause of the children and my unworthy self, for -which I thank them from the bottom of my heart. Without their help I -could not have got along. I sent the following letter to the _Morning -Post_, bearing date October 11, 1882, relating to “_Shooba Rye_,” _O -Bongo_, _hó_, _no tïckno chavo_: - -“Your correspondent complains that I do not know sufficient of the -gipsies. My congress papers and my ‘Gipsy Life’ show that I know a -little. It is evident I know more than is pleasant to him, or he would -not have hastily snatched up some one else’s badly-fitting night-dress to -sally forth with his farthing candle in hand to put a ‘sprag’ into my -wheel. Such backward movements are too late in the day to stop the sun -of civilization and Christianity shedding its rays upon the path of the -poor gipsy child and its home. - -“I do not pretend to know more than forty years everyday practical -observation and insight into the real hard facts of the conditions of the -women and children employed in the brickyards and canal boats, and the -dwellers in gipsy tents and vans can give me. - -“Two days ago I came upon a family of gipsy ‘muggers,’ father, mother, -and four children, travelling in a cart. The poor little children, whose -ages ranged from four to twelve years, were stived up in a box on the -cart, which box was 5 ft. long by 2 ft. 9 in. wide by 3 ft high, or about -eleven cubic feet of space for each poor child. The children were all -down with a highly infectious disease, carrying it from a village, where -it had been raging, to Daventry and Northampton. I gave the children -some apples, but the poor things said, ‘We are all ill and cannot eat -them.’ None of these children could tell a letter. These are facts and -not fiction; inartistically dressed, I admit, and without the flowers of -poetical imagination to adorn them. Knowledge gained under the -circumstances in which I have been placed, will, I think, be found nearly -as valuable in improving the condition of neglected and suffering -children as imaginative, unhealthy backwood fiction spun by the yard -under drawing-room influences and by the side of drawing-room fires can -be. At any rate, I have tried for many long years in my rough way to -look at the sad condition of the women and children whose cause I have -ventured to take in hand with both eyes open, one to their faults, and -the other to their virtues; and also with a heart to feel and a hand to -help, as my letters, papers, and books will show to those who have the -patience to read them. - -“I have not been content to sit upon mossy banks by the side of rippling -rivulets, with a lovely sun shining overhead, and beneath the witching -looks and mesmeric smiles of lovely damsels, swallowing love and other -tales as gospel. - -“It is time the hard facts and lot of our gipsies and their -children—_i.e._, those travelling in vans, shows, and tents—were -realized. It is time we asked ourselves the question, ‘What are the vast -increasing numbers—over 30,000—of children tramping the country being -trained for?’ - -“The fact is this: Parliament, Christians, moralists, and philanthropists -have been content for generations to look at the gipsies and other -travellers of the class through glasses tinted and prismed with the seven -colours of the rainbow, handed to us by those who would keep the children -in ignorance and sin, instead of taking them by the hand to help them out -of their degrading position. My plan would improve their condition, -without interfering with their liberty to any amount worth naming, -considering the blessed advantages to be derived by the gipsies and -others from it. - -“No amount of misleading sentiment will stop me till the case of the poor -children is remedied by the civilizing measures of the country—viz., -education, sanitation, and moral precepts—extended to them by an Act of -Parliament, as I have described in other places, which could be carried -out, and a system of free education established, by means of a pass book, -without any inconvenience or cost worth mention. Why should our -present-day canal and gipsy children be left out in the cold?” - - “’Tis not the work of force, but skill, - To find the way into man’s will: - ’Tis love alone can hearts unlock; - Who knows the Word he needs not knock.” - - RICHARD CRASHAW, “_Fuller Worthies_.” - - - - -Rambles Among the Gipsies at Daventry and Banbury Fairs. - - -THE eleventh of October, one thousand eight hundred and eighty-two dawned -upon “Old England” while rain was coming down too drearily, drizzly, and -freely for either man or beast to be comfortable. Foggy, cold, and murky -November seemed desirous of making its advent earlier than usual. Not a -songster was to be seen nor an autumnal chirp heard round our dwelling. -Long dark nights had begun to creep over nature. “The last rose of -summer,” the Queen of English flowers, was drooping its head and -withering up, and the leaves were dwindling down to nothingness. The -lanes were strewn with dying leaves which had done their duty nobly and -well. - -Through the low and heavy clouds the voice and footsteps of children, as -they trotted off with their milk tins, seemed to echo in my ears, and -other sounds to hover round me, carrying with them a kind of hollow -sepulchral sensation, telling me that summer was dead and autumn was -preparing nature for the winter shroud, which was undergoing the process -of weaving by angelic hands. - -The sound of the thresher’s flail was heard in the barn, calling out -“Clank,” “Clank,” “Clank,” “Thud,” as it struck the corn and barn floor, -causing the precious grain to fly like a shower of small pellets against -the doors. Not a gleam of sunshine was to be seen. Summer and winter -seemed during the last fortnight to have been struggling with each other, -in the death-throes of nature for the mastery. Genial summer had to give -way to savage winter, and little robins piped forth the victory. -Everywhere seemed cold, damp, and covered with melancholy. As we -meditated upon the surroundings, our carrier drove to our door with his -van, into which I got, and seated myself in one of the corners almost out -of sight. A patent “four-wheeler” of this kind I had not been used to, -and our little folks did their best to try to persuade me not to try the -experiment. We had not gone many yards before eggs, boxes, whiskey -bottles, butter, and onions were handed to our carrier for carriage and -safe custody to Daventry fair. Fat and thin women were closely packed -round me. Welton is a noted village for fat women, which may be the -result of the excellent water. While our village blacksmith was putting -some of his handiwork into the carrier’s van, the scene brought vividly -to my mind Longfellow’s poem. He might have seen the very spot. - - “Under a spreading chestnut tree - The village smithy stands; - The smith a mighty man is he, - With large and sinewy hands; - And the muscles of his brawny arms - Are strong as iron bands.” - -I mumbled the verse over to myself as we jogged along. To have repeated -or bawled it out in such “close quarters” would have been worse than -putting one’s head into a hatbox. - -After the usual “picking up” and “calling” we began to slowly trot off -with our load. We had not got far before our village dames, damsels, and -companions began to indulge more or less in the usual village gossip and -jokes. Big heavy old women could indulge in sprightly conversation as -freely as if they were “four-year-olds.” Pleasantry was exchanged as to -who was to sit next to our driver, so as to keep his back warm. Village -parsons and squires were the first upon the programme. Then came a long -rigmarole about the old maids and maidens, poachers, slovens, slatterns, -fashions, Jacks, Jims, and Pollies. Everybody knew everybody’s business, -ranging from the death of Polly Jones’s cat to Squire Brown’s fine horse. -Good masters were passed over with “He’s not a bad sort of man to work -for, and he’d be better if he had more to do with.” Bad masters were -mentioned with a curl of the lip, a scowl and a shake of the head, ending -with “He’s a bad ’un; my man shouldn’t work for him at any price, if I -could help it.” Mrs. So-and-So, and Miss So-and-So were “snappy old -things,” “niggardly, mean, and miserable;” “nobody has a moment’s comfort -near them.” “Oh!” said one, on the road, “did you see Miss Jenny Starch -on Sunday with her new bonnet on? Didn’t she look mighty fine? Wasn’t -she a stuck-up thing? Nobody could come near her with a fork.” “Did you -see,” said another, “the three poor little children running about the -streets this morning, almost naked, in rags and dirt? The mother is -idle, and the father drinks. They both want horsewhipping, and if I -could have my own way I would give it them.” “Yes,” said another, “and -serve them right.” “Did you see,” said another, “the Misses So-and-So in -church on Sunday? They looked quite pretty. When you can just catch -them in the right temper, they are so nice and pleasant. What a thing -this money is, isn’t it? Money buys fine feathers, and fine feathers -make fine birds.” “Anybody can be made pretty, nowadays, if they have -only the money,” said a stout dame, who had a big red face under a little -bonnet, and must have weighed little short of eighteen stone. We were -passed on the road by two “screwy” old maids from Bonnybrook, “trotting -off to market” in a green pony carriage, sitting like Jack and Jill, one -before and the other behind, bolt upright and as still as posts, looking -out of the corner of their eyes. As we were mounting the hill going into -Daventry the question of “leaving” was brought upon the carpet, and it -came out that all of them were satisfied with their “old masters,” and -were going to “stop again at the old wages.” I am afraid their “old -masters”—husbands—will have a little difficulty in getting rid of them. -They like the “old shop” too well to budge. The process of riddance, “My -dear husband,” and a stream of tears would have to be faced before they -“cleared out.” - -I had not been long in the “mop” before I was face to face with a -good-looking, but somewhat eccentric, and good-natured popgun owner, -named Mott, at one of the stalls. One passage of Scripture after another -he repeated in rapid succession with breathless speech, until quite a -crowd gathered round us in the drizzling rain. After my friend—who has -been on the road attending fairs for forty years—had finished his speech, -his wife handed to him a newspaper, out of which he read my letter as it -appeared in the _Daily News_, bearing date September 5th, 1882, which -will also be found in page 161. The newspaper had been given to them by -a dirty, wretched, filthy-looking family of travelling show folks from -London, whose corns and consciences had been touched to the quick. After -he had read it, and had given it to his wife again, I expected a “rather -hot reception,” especially after a paragraph which has been going the -round of a few of the papers, to the effect that I must look out for -trouble from “light and dark gentlemen.” As the paper passed from his -hands I looked rather anxiously into his face to see what the effect -would be. To my surprise, the index of his soul showed pleasure, and not -anger; and in unmistakable tones he said, “You are quite right, sir, and -I thank you for it. It is rather warm, but your object is right—there is -no mistaking that. I quite agree with your plans, and so does every -right-thinking man. The traveller’s and other gipsy children ought to be -educated. God bless you, sir, I know what religion is; I am an old -backslider. I was once a leading member among the Baptists, but I -chipped out over a little thing, and now me and my old woman are -travelling the country in our van, and doing this sort of thing. There -is one thing I should like to say, sir; I never creep into my bed in the -van without saying my prayers to my heavenly Father. I feel to sleep -better after it. It soothes me a little.” Tears were making their way -down the grey-haired traveller’s face; and I think it would have been a -blessed thing for him if I could have introduced him into a Methodist -prayer-meeting, as a stepping stone that would lead him out and on to the -paths he trod in the days of yore, crying out from the depths of his -soul, in the language of a writer in the _Christian Life_ for October -14th, 1882— - - “Thou art a rock, to which I flee; - With all my sins I come to Thee, - And lay them down, Lord, at Thy feet, - Before the shining mercy-seat. - Thou art a fortress strong and high, - To which for shelter all may fly, - Sure there to find a safe retreat, - Beneath the sacred mercy-seat.” - -After shaking hands with this couple I bade them goodbye, and gave them -something to read during the dark hours of winter, something in which are -buried seeds of a bright spring-time for them both, if they will only -follow out the directions given. I then strolled into the fair. I had -not gone far before I came upon an old brickmaker, and from him I gleaned -some facts showing how wretchedly the Brickyard Act of 1871 is being -carried out. After chatting with him for some minutes he apparently took -stock of my hair, which has, thank God, grown almost white in the cause -of suffering children. Mr. Brickmaker turned quite poetical, and in -parting said— - - “Take stock, Mr. Knock, - That’s what I have to say, Mr. Grey,” - -and he then sidled and smiled away into the crowd. - -I had not been long moving to and fro among the gipsies before I learned -that two gipsies, whose head-quarters were a few miles from Daventry, -were undergoing transportation, one for sheep-stealing, and the other for -horse-stealing. The horse-stealing gipsy was caught in his own trap, -owing to his being too clever and daring. It came about as follows: A -publican and farmer a few miles from here had a fine, beautiful, young -black horse, to which the gipsy took a fancy; and it so happened with -this gipsy, as with other gipsies of this class, that he had not too much -money to spare for purchasing purposes. An old idea ran fresh through -his brain, which was, that he could with but little trouble make the -horse his own, without money and the bother and trouble of giving back -the “shilling for luck” on the completion of the purchase. Accordingly -he sallied forth one dark night and took the beautiful animal out of the -field, not far from Daventry, and kept it “in close confinement” for -three days to undergo doctoring, at the end of which time the stolen -horse was quite a different looking animal. The horse now had a white -star upon its forehead, and two white fetlocks. Its tail and mane were -shortened, and, with the assistance of “ginger,” it put on quite a sharp, -frisky appearance. In the meantime he heard that the owner of the horse -was much in want of one. “Now,” thought the gipsy, “here’s a fine chance -for turning money over quickly, and getting rid of an animal that would -turn ‘a tell-tale’ if kept too long.” Consequently the gipsy mounted his -steed, and off he trotted to the publican. On arriving at the door he -called the innkeeper out to look at a horse that he had for sale, “good, -quiet in harness, sound in wind and limb, a good worker, without a -blemish, and cheap.” The publican liked the looks of the horse very -much, and he asked the gipsy to trot him up and down the road; and off -the horse bounded, frisked, and danced about quite lively. The action of -the horse was all that was desirable, and the price “right.” In the end -the horse was sold, glasses round given, the “luck shilling” returned, -the horse was put into the stable, and the gipsy became scarce. - -Three days after the “white star” and “white fetlocks” were not to be -seen, and the horse began to look “quite different.” - -It was brought plainly home to the publican that he had bought back his -stolen horse. The gipsy was “hunted up,” tried, and sentenced to a “long -term,” where horses are not to be had. - -In the fair, or “mop,” there were eight vans, in which there would be -about sixteen men and women and thirty children living and sleeping; and, -so far as I could gather, only about four could read and write, and these -were adults, none of whom were teaching their children anything that -would be helpful to them in after life. - -Connected with one of the “Aunt Sally” establishments there were man, -woman, and three little neglected children, with no other sleeping -accommodation than a “bottom” of straw spread under the stall, covered -with an old sheet, and warmed in the winter by an oil lamp. The poor -woman was the picture of poverty, despair, degradation, and misery. -Their stall and “Aunt Sally” were pushed through the country on a small -“hand cart.” The family hailed from Leicester, and were in a most -wretched, dirty, and ignorant condition. As soon as I saw the man I -thought I could recognize his features as those of a _posh_ gipsy I had -seen before; and it turned out to be true, for he was no other than a -“fishman” who had more than once carried my fish to the station. - -In the “mop” I came across a man and woman with four children who hailed -from a village a few miles from Daventry, and who had taken to gipsying -and were singing in the streets in the midst of mud and drenching rain— - - “Beautiful Zion, built above, - Beautiful city that I love, - Beautiful gates of pearly white, - Beautiful temple, God its light.” - -Three of these children were of school age, but could not read or write a -letter. - -When I questioned the man about putting the children into the union -workhouse, and the wrong he was doing to them in bringing them up as -tramps, he said “he could not help that; they must look out for -themselves as they got bigger, and help to do a little for him.” By -singing about the streets they got him some “baccer and a little -vittles.” In 1882 at the “mop” I met with a showman, named S—, and his -wife and six children, living in a wretched tumbledown van; the small -windows were broken, and rags, dirt, and filth abounded in every nook and -corner. The father had had a religious “bringing-up” by Christian -parents in Cornwall, and for many years earned a good living in Wales as -a miner, and was a member of a Christian Church. The sharp, good-looking -woman, although dirty and dejected enough to banish looks and spirits to -the winds, waves, and realities of eternity, bore up fairly well under -the wretched surroundings. She had, previous to her marriage, for many -years been a “lady’s maid” in a good “religious family,” and was well -educated. The man was ingenious and clever, and had during his spare -moments and hours in Wales made the working model of a coal-mine, which, -at the instigation of “_religious friends_,” he began to exhibit in -public. The success that attended him in the first instance led him to -think that he was on the high way to a fortune. He acted upon the advice -of his “_Christian friend_” and others, instead of his own common sense, -and bought a van in which to place his handiwork, and “took to the road.” -A downhill one for himself and his large family it has been ever since, -and they are now gipsying, and cursing the day upon which he took and -followed the advice of a shortsighted—to say the least—“_Christian -friend_.” - -In giving advice, God-fearing Christian men and women above all others -should look well ahead, and to all the surroundings of the case, before -deciding the fate of a family. Advising a parent to break up a settled -home and comfortable livelihood to tramp the country among gipsy -vagabonds and tramps, I consider little less than murder. - -In making their way one Sunday from a village to attend the “mop,” they -got stuck fast at the bottom of a hill with an old bony emaciated horse -that would not draw “a man’s hat off his head.” The poor little children -dressed in dirt and rags, and scarcely able to toddle, had to set to work -to drag and carry the old boards, rags, and other things belonging to -their “show” to the top of the hill. After hours of toil, interrupted by -the constant striking and chiming of church bells on the bright autumn -Sunday morning, they were able to make another move. - -Their show consisted of the working model of the mine, one of their -youngest children, nearly naked, with a Scotch plaid over its shoulder -being exhibited as a “prize baby.” In addition it included a boxing -establishment. The man had not the build and stamina to lead the “ring,” -and they had to wait for the “millers” to pair themselves before a boxing -exhibition could take place. - -They had not been in Daventry long before this backsliding showman, who -had taken to gipsying, was wanted by _Shórokno gáiro Garéngro_ for -cruelty to his horses. The result was that he had to “do a month” in -Northampton gaol. No doubt the poor misguided showman would feel in his -cell as John Harris puts it— - - “Here bees and beetles buzz about my ears - Like crackling coals, and frogs strut up and down - Like hissing cinders: wasps and waterflies - Scorch deep like melting mineral. Murther! save! - What shall a sinner do?” - -To which I would have answered— - - “Pray to thy God - To help thee in thy trouble.” - -A week or two after I saw the woman and her six children in a most -destitute condition. I gave the poor little things a good tea and cake -in my house, and subscribed my mite towards buying them another horse, -and advised them to make their way to Aberdare, in Wales, and take to -mining again, to send their children to school, for none of them could -tell a letter, and they were growing up worse than heathens. - -Their first venture at a showman’s life was to exhibit the model and -paintings, and they hired a donkey-cart and set off to Aberdare. When -they got there the showman wrote to me, “I am sure you would have been -amused if you had been there to have seen us; for when we had our -establishment erected—which, by the way, was very small—we were too shy -at first to make an appearance outside; at last we made a resolution, and -began to shout. So we found out after we had broken the ice that we were -landed. On the first night we took enough to pay our month’s rent. This -gave us encouragement. We made a good many friends, and I became -notorious among my fellow workmen. They thought me an extraordinary man. -In three years I painted in oil colours thirteen pictures, three feet -square, of the interior of a coal-mine and different other subjects. . . -. The waxwork show owners we had accompanied left Wales for London. -Afterwards my wife went to Bristol and bought a barrel organ, and I had -what we thought a very nice little show, and a nice van and horse. But -alas! we did not know what travelling in the winter meant. We found very -soon that we could not show every night on account of the weather, and -also found that we could not get any credit. If we had no money there -was no bread. I shall never forget the first night we got ‘hard up.’ -Dear sir, just fancy yourself going into a large town about eight o’clock -at night, and the rain coming down in torrents in the cold January month; -the houses shining with wet, and a horse to be fed and stabled—for we -kept it in a stable then—and six children to get a supper for, let alone -yourself, and not a penny in your pocket, and not a friend in the world -to speak to or to give you counsel. Well, that is just how we were -situated in the first January that we travelled. Dear sir, perhaps you -would say, ‘Why did you not make for your home?’ That would have been -the wisest plan, but we thought we would endure anything rather than go -back to be laughed at. Well, after my good wife had had a good cry, we -went to the pawnbroker’s and pledged my watch, thinking that we should be -able to redeem it again in a few weeks. We borrowed fifteen shillings, -so that with opening the show we could be helped on for a few weeks, -instead of which we met with a worse misfortune than ever. We lost our -horse at Pontypool. We pledged our organ for £2, and then trailed our -van to Swansea for Llanefni fair, thinking we should get money enough to -buy another. More next week. The children all send their love to you, -wishing you a merry Christmas.” - -This man was at one time earning nearly £2 per week, and had a good home. -It will be found on close inquiry that nearly all our present-day showmen -have been in better circumstances, and rather than be laughed at for -their silly adventures by their friends, they are content to wander up -and down the world little better than vagabonds, and to train their -children for a tramp’s life. By travelling in vans, carts, and tents -they escape the school boards, sanitary officers, rent and rate -collectors; and to-day they are—unthinkingly, no doubt—undermining all -our social privileges, civil rights, and religious advantages, and will, -if encouraged by us, bring decay to the roots. I speak that which I do -know, from what I have seen and heard. - -I had heard of a gipsy Smith who had settled down, and was now residing -in one of the “courts” of Daventry. I hunted him up, and found him in a -little cottage residing by himself. The cottage was nice and clean. -When I went in I was invited to sit upon a chair. The old gipsy had just -come home with some work. He was lighting the fire, and I said to him, -“I suppose you could do very well with a _Hotchi-witchi_ just now, could -you not, Mr. Smith?” The old man turned up his bronzed face, and with a -laugh said, “I just could, my dear good gentleman. I was looking for one -this morning, but could not find one.” I said, “Could you do with a -_Kanéngro_?” The old man replied, “I could if I had one; but I never -goes after them now. I don’t much care for them. I would rather have -_Hotchi-witchi_.” After a general conversation for a few minutes, I -said, “How long have you given up travelling?” He replied, “Nearly -thirty years. I like it better now.” “How long have you lived by -yourself?” The old man’s lips began to pucker and tears came into his -eyes. After wiping his face, he said falteringly, “It is nearly four -years since I lost my dear good bedfellow. We had lived together over -forty years. She was a good creature, and I mean to meet her in heaven, -bless the Lord. I’ve been a bad one in my time, but I’ve given up all -bad ways, and have attended the Wesleyan chapel and the Salvation Army -nearly two years, bless the Lord; it was the best day’s work that ever I -did when I found Him.” The old gipsy now gave me a little of his -history. “My grandfather was a Welsh gipsy, and used to attend -Northampton and Daventry market and fairs with horses and ponies, and in -course of time my father and grandfather began to travel round the -midland counties and the Staffordshire Potteries. I was born under the -hedge in Gayton Lane, between Kingsthorpe and Boughton Green. The -gipsy’s lot is a hard one, I can assure you, my good gentleman. I’ve -seen a deal in my time. I attended Boughton Green fair for thirty years, -and for eighteen years of this time in succession I never knew two of my -cousins to leave the fair without fighting. I’ve seen murder upon the -‘Green’ more than once. It will never be known in this world how many -murders have been committed upon the ‘Green.’ There has been some -fearful bloodshed and rows done, I can assure you. The gipsies are very -vengeful and spiteful, if they ever take it in their heads to be so. Two -of my cousins, D— and N—, quarrelled, when they were children down -‘Spectacle Lane,’ over a few sticks. - -“They parted, and never met each other again for twenty years, and then -it was at a Boughton Green fair. When the fair was over they went into a -field to have their old grievance out in blows. They had not been -fighting long before D— was put senseless upon the ground. N— went to -his tent, and after a few minutes I followed him, and said to my cousin, -‘N—, you have killed D—; you had better be off.’ He went then and there, -and has never been took. We buried my cousin, and the day I shall never -forget. It was a day, I can assure you. I don’t know where my cousin is -now, but I have seen him lots of times since then. The past is a blank, -but I mean to get to heaven to meet my dear good old creature. I wish I -could read; what a great pity it is that none of us poor gipsies can -read. Bless the Lord, although I cannot read I prize the Bible, God’s -book; it’s the best book in the world.” The old man now took down a -small pocket Bible off his kitchen shelf, and clasped it to his breast -and said, “Although I cannot read I puts it in my chair when I says my -prayers, and the dear Lord blesses it to my soul and makes me feel -happy.” - -After partaking of a cup of tea and a slice of bread and butter in the -humble “British Workman” in High Street, I made my way to the Byfield -carrier, Mr. W—, to secure my “berth” in his cart, which was pretty -closely packed with groceries, servants’ boxes and trunks, nails, balms, -and paraffin, “chaps,” girls, and their mothers. There seemed to be no -“cousins” in our party. I was pretty well wet through from head to foot, -and it was perhaps fortunate that we were closely packed, as by which -means I was, in all probability, prevented taking a severe cold. At a -jog-trot rate we began to move out of Daventry at the heels of a grey -horse, whose sides stuck out with fatness and with a “coat” as sleek as a -mole. Mr. W— looked well to his steed, while Mrs. W— chatted, joked, and -chaffed with her company inside. Up hills and down dales lay our course. -Parsons and squires, as usual, were the theme, in the first instance, for -conversation and gossip. The Rev. Mr. So-and-So was a very good man in -the pulpit but a bad one out of it, and a worse landlord. And they began -to enumerate cases of hardship inflicted by him. I must confess that I -should not like to be a clergyman with a large family in a small poor -parish with a small stipend, and with “charity money” to deal out to a -number of dissatisfied, idle, grumbling poor people. A clergyman -nowadays has to mix up with the grand and fashionable, to visit the poor, -dispense charity with smiles, write any number of letters for the -parishioners, assist the sexton, take a lead in the choir, preach his own -sermons, superintend the bell-ringers, keep the parish accounts, blow up -the roadmen, visit “new comers,” allay scandal, hush gossip, settle -squabbles, be liberal, stand insults, know everybody’s business, and know -nobody’s business. Must not pay too much attention to young ladies for -fear of trouble at home. He must be handsome, lovely, and charming, with -a rich melodious voice; hide the faults of evil-doers occupying big pews, -lecture evil-doers in little pews; never enter a “dissenting” chapel, -give Methodists the “cold shoulder” privately, fraternize with them -publicly; take wine with the rich, be teetotal among the poor; give the -“tip-top” price for his goods; and above all things, and under all -circumstances, the parson must never look cross. If at any time he feels -angry he must “keep it to himself inwardly and never show it.” These are -the qualifications for a minister of the gospel according to the ideas -and motives of Church dwarfs and Sunday saints. - -Parsons were now dispensed with, and darkness was creeping over us as we -passed by Sir Charles Knightly, Baronet’s, beautiful estate at Fawsly. -The next leading topic of our dames and damsels was, as might be -expected, the appearance of certain ladies at the usual maidenhood ages. -We had not gone far before I knew most of the ages of the “young” dames -in the cart, who were much surprised to find that I was younger than they -were. “Lor bless me!” said one, “there is no accounting for looks -nowadays, for I was talking to a lady the other day, and telling her how -young she looked, and that I wished I had as good a black head of hair as -she had; but lor and behold you, when I went home with her, I found out -that the black hair was a wig, and her own hair was as white as mine. I -never was more astonished and surprised in all my life. I could not help -but stare at her, she did not look like the same woman, Mrs. W—; I should -not have known her if I had not known her so well, and what had made the -change. Since then I have guessed but little at women’s ages.” We now -pulled up to allow one or two of our party to get out. Our legs had been -so crushed and mixed up with each other’s that we were almost left in -doubt as to whose legs we were standing upon, Mrs. W— naïvely remarking, -as the young damsels were stepping down, “Now mind and see that you got -out upon your own legs; don’t run away with some one else’s.” - -We were now seated, and off we began to jog again. We had not got far -before the company began to ask each other if they were “saved.” The -word “saved” is a word well known to me from childhood, and at its sound -I pricked up my ears, and began to ask questions about it. And the -answers I received were as follows: “Why, bless you, dear sir, have you -not heard of the great stir that has been going on among the children -connected with the Methodist and Congregational chapels in Byfield? We -are woke up at eleven o’clock at night by the children singing about the -streets Moody and Sankey’s and Salvation hymns— - - “‘Only an armour-bearer, firmly I stand, - Waiting to follow at the King’s command,’ &c. - - “‘I love to tell the story - Of unseen things above,’ &c. - - “‘Who are these beside the chilly wave, - Just on the borders of the silent grave?’ &c.— - -and away they go all round the village disturbing everybody. The young -things ought to be in bed. The girls have got so excited that they go -about shouting and singing in the daytime. One girl I knew went into the -garden to get some cabbages, and while she was getting them up, the devil -came to her, and told her that she was not ‘saved,’ and the girl knelt -down in the middle of the garden at dinner-time, and there and then began -to pray, cry, sing, and shout. After a time she jumped up and said she -was saved. ‘Then,’ said the girl, ‘Master Devil, I am saved.’ Another -girl went into the garden to get some potatoes, and the good, or some -other spirit, came to her, and said that unless she was saved all the -potatoes in the garden would go rotten. She there and then stuck the -fork into the ground, and began to pray to God to save her. She had not -prayed long before she got up and shouted out, ‘I am saved! bless the -Lord!’” - -I asked how all this was brought about, and the answer I got was, that -“The children began to sing in the streets some hymns, and to hold -children’s prayer-meetings, under the direction of nobody but themselves; -and the movement began to spread about, and bigger folks attended the -meetings, and now the place is almost in an uproar; everybody is asking -each other, or nearly so, if they are saved.”—I kept putting in a word -for the children, bless their little hearts!—“Tea-meetings and -prayer-meetings are held, the chapels are filled, and it is all through -the children. I don’t like so much shouting and going on in this way.” -I hope the good work is still going on, notwithstanding the old woman’s -cold water. - -It was now pitch dark, and we were winding our way down the narrow lanes -in Byfield to the carrier’s home, with whom and his good wife I was to -stay for the night, where we arrived “safe and sound,” but cold and damp. - -On the hearth there were six beautiful cats, named after her husband’s -friends. A month before this they had eight cats; and Mrs. W— says next -year she hopes to keep a dozen. The big-hearted, genial woman is an -ardent admirer of animals. She said she never had but one valentine in -her life, inside of which were pictures of cats, dogs, rabbits, and -birds; and it was addressed to her as “Mrs. W—, Cat and Dog Fancier.” - -After a good warming and an excellent supper, “the good woman of the -house,” Mrs. W—, began to tell me a little of their family history, while -her good husband was seeing to his horses, which were petted like -children. My hostess related her story as follows: “My father lived to -be ninety-four years of age, and my mother died last August at the age of -ninety-two. I have had fifteen brothers and sisters, all of whom are -dead but three. I have not been out of mourning for sixteen years.” She -now fetched the photographs, walking-sticks, and other things of her -parents, for me to look at, and then continued her sorrowful story. “My -mother,” she said, “was a great sufferer for some years, but she bore it -all so meekly. She never murmured once during her illness, and was -always talking about heaven. Once she said to me, ‘Why don’t you kiss -your father? He is in the room and wants to shake hands with you; why -don’t you kiss him?’ Just before she died she called me to her and said, -‘I am going to die, my child. I am going to your father.’ And then she -said, faintly, ‘“Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, -and I will give you rest.” “I will never leave thee nor forsake thee.” -My girl, trust in Jesus. Come a little nearer to me.’ And she then -whispered in my ear, ‘Meet me in heaven,’ and passed away like a child -going to sleep.” - - “What is this that steals upon my frame? - Is it death? Is it death?” - -Tears were now forcing their way down the good woman’s face, and in the -midst of sobs and sighs a tremulousness was manifest, and she quietly -stole upstairs to pray, and to ask Jesus to dry her tears. - -After she had left me I was upon the hearthstone alone. The ring-dove, -nineteen years old, perched in its cage by the fireside, began to -“coo—coo—coo;” the cats began to “pur—pur—pur;” the dog to snore; the -kettle to sing; and the lamp shed a cheerful light upon the whole. I -stole away to rest my weary bones upon a snowy-white feather bed, and -under an extra lot of blankets and fine linen sheets. How different, I -thought, as I wandered into dreamland, from the lot of the poor gipsy -child, whose sheets are old rags, and whose feathers are damp and almost -rotten straw, with mother earth for a bedstead, and the canopy of heaven -for curtains. - -At seven o’clock I turned out and got my breakfast, and with the morning -dawn and a lovely sun shining in my face, I took a stroll through the -ancient village to stare at the loitering villagers, gaze at the thatched -roofs, eye over the tradesmen, to peep at a very ancient, curious, -antiquated stone upon the green, which the roots of a huge tree were -toppling over, enjoy the feast of some beautiful scenery, and make some -inquiries about the empty house pleasantly situated in the village. I -paid my bill—two shillings—and gave the little servant and mine hostess -some picture-cards and little books, and then seated myself in the -carrier’s cart to be drawn round the village before we trotted off to -Banbury fair. Out in the way, the nurse-girls, mothers, and children -shrieked out with laughter as they tossed upon their knees the -round-faced, chubby, live, kicking, squeaking balls of love, embodiments -of pleasure and trouble, singing and shouting— - - “Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross, - To see a fine lady get on a white horse, - With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes, - And she shall have music wherever she goes.” - -On the way and in carts there were crowds of human beings, pretty and -plain, big and little, tall and thin, short and stout, some dressed in -silks and black cloth, some in rags and tatters; some were smiling all -over their faces, and others looked as cross and sour as if they lived on -nothing but vinegar and crabs and slept on thorns and thistles. Lovers -and haters, pleasure-seekers and thieves, labourers, farmers, tradesmen, -and gentlemen, were hurrying helter-skelter to Banbury fair. Some were -crying, some were laughing, some were shouting, roaring, puffing, and -panting; others were in carriages, with liveried servants as attendants; -some were on horseback and donkeyback; others were in horse-carts, -donkey-carts, and waggons; and among the number there was a little thin -man of sixty winters, standing about two feet six high with his boots on, -and by his side was his wife, about five feet high, stout, plump, and -about thirty years old. I should not be surprised to hear that she had -“not agreed to stop again.” She was well able to carry him on her back, -as gipsies do their children, instead of which she looked down upon him -and allowed him to trudge along in the mud and rain. She had no love for -the little fellow, or she would have carried him in her arms; in fact, -she seemed inclined to walk on the other side of the road. - -In the throng and crush we arrived at Banbury. I paid my fare—all the -way from Daventry, one shilling and sixpence—shook hands with my kind -friends, and made my way into the crowd of sightseers, gipsies, -mendicants, tramps, the fashionable, and the gay. - -The first gipsy I met with was an old friend, “Righteous Smith”—which -name was printed on the van—and his large family, at a cocoa-nut -establishment. One of the daughters, dressed in lively colours, was in -charge of the balls, and shouting out to the “chaps” as they passed -forward, “Try your luck, gentlemen!” and the father shouted out, “Now, -gentlemen, bowl away! all bad nuts returned.” In response to their -bewitching entreaties some old cricketers tried their hand, and, much to -the chagrin of “Righteous Smith,” they sent the nuts “spinning away” -rather more freely than was profitable and pleasant for “Righteous,” to -the extent of putting his good name in the shade. This family of gipsies -have, I should think, about three parts of Romany blood in their veins. -Their van was a good one, and beautifully clean, and will pass muster -when the new order of things comes about, for which I am working night -and day, and which, I am thankful to say, is casting its shadows before -it. The eight cocoa-nut establishments were owned by cross-bred -Romanies, and one or two of the families lived in vans fairly clean. -There were over thirty families living in the vans attending the fair, in -which there would be an average of three children, one man, and one woman -in each van. In five of the vans there were two men and two women in -each. A number of those who owned small short shooting galleries and -“rock stalls” slept with their children under the stalls. - -From this cocoa-nut going “concern” I strolled among the shows, bosh, -nonsense, and cheap Jacks. The introduction to one of the sparring -establishments was by an old woman screaming out, “We are just going to -begin.” By her side was a dandily dressed and painted doll, setting -herself off to the best advantage. On some steps between the two women -there stood a man painted as a fool, and dressed in tight indecent -sparring costume. “Darkey,” with his pug nose, short hair, low narrow -forehead, high cheekbones, deep sunken eyes, glistening fire like a black -glass bead in the centre of a white china button under the glare of a -lamp, which he frequently turned sharply, quickly, and inquisitively to -me as if anxious to know my movements. If he had been an uncaught thief, -and conscience was telling him that I was a detective, he could not have -eyed me over more quickly and closely than he did. - -_Gentlemen_ with diamond rings, poachers, and blackguards formed the -company. A ring was formed, and “Darkey” and a “Johnny Straw” set to -work with their gloves “milling” each other, and just as their “savage” -was getting up, the curtain to outsiders was drawn. How long the big and -little fools kept at the “milling” process I did not stay to see. What -fools there are passing through the world as gentlemen, to be sure, to -witness such debasing exhibitions with “pure frolic” and laughter, while -their money is being drawn out of their pocket imperceptibly by idle -vagabonds. - -Not far from this “boxing establishment” there was another “set-out” -waiting for a second dose of fools, with a “champion boxer” as a “draw.” -Money went freely into the coffers, while the owners of stalls upon which -useful articles were exposed for sale “had a bad time of it;” even the -celebrated “Banbury cake” was “a drug in the market.” - -Over the door, as a sign at one of the shows belonging to Mr. Great -Frederick Little, where a nude man was exhibiting himself—“girls and -ladies not allowed to enter”—stood two calves’ heads over a skeleton, and -what surprised me most was that the good Banbury folks and country -Johnnies could not see the satire that was being played upon them. -“Calves and bones” for a sign; and I think, judging from the dejected -appearance of the people as they came out of the establishment, they felt -like “calves and bones” themselves; at any rate they did not look any the -wiser—certainly they looked sadder. - -Turning from this concern, I was jostled into a crowd of folks to witness -a man named Turnover Snuff, Esq., dressed in best blue cloth, with gold -watches, guards, and rings, making fools of two well-dressed innocent -youths, whom he had called up from the crowd and dressed in rags to eat -buns for a prize, to be used as a “draw,” to enable him to pass off his -showy goods under various colours, dodges, and pretexts. While the -youths were forcing the buns down their throats he was cracking jokes, -which the people, with their mouths open, swallowed as gospel. What this -“Cheap Jack” said in action, if not in words, was, “Now, ladies and -gentlemen, you see that these two youths have come up here at my bidding, -to make fools of themselves, and to eat these buns I am forcing down -their throats, to cause you to twitter and laugh with your eyes shut to -the things that are to follow; so in like manner I want all of you to -shut your eyes and open your mouths to receive all the lies I want to -force down your throats, that I may extract the coin from your pockets -for my ‘Cheap Jack’ articles; so we will now proceed to business, ladies -and gentlemen.” - -There were one or two exhibitions in the fair of a good genuine -character, and the rest were “rubbish,” of which it might be said of the -performers, as a writer in the _Sword and Trowel_ for 1876 says: - - “See, I am as black as night; - See, I am darkness, dark as hell.” - -In the fair I ran against the sanitary and local canal boat inspector—Mr. -Daniel Dixon—whom I asked to give me his independent views of the gipsies -and show-people attending the fair. In company with the medical officer -of health he visited the vans, and the following particulars may be taken -as a fair sample and average of the thirty vans in the fair, in -accordance with what he says: - -“According to promise, I forward you the particulars of our visits to the -shows and vans visiting our fair on Thursday; and I also took a little -more trouble to be along early on Friday morning. I was certainly -astonished to see the people turn out of some of these places, some of -the smaller vans turning out the greatest number. I give you a few -instances of the number who turned out of the smaller vans. In Nos. 1, -2, 6, 13, and 19 there were 5 men, 5 women, and 22 children, making a -total of 32 in the 5 vans. Education totally neglected. They were -dirty, neglected, and uncared for. One van was as clean as could be -expected. - -“In 1879, 40 vans visited our fair. - -“In 1880, 50 vans visited our fair, in which there were 38 men, 32 women, -and 43 children. - -“In 1881 there were 130 persons in 36 vans. While some of the vans were -remarkably clean and well fitted up, there were some totally unfit for -habitation, and certainly ought not to be allowed. The gipsy tribe was -fairly represented, and evidently some of them are fairly blest with an -amount of property which surprises me. There were a few surly people who -did not like our visit, and gave us unmistakable signs of displeasure, -but the majority were civil. - -“If you can devise a plan whereby these people can receive _any_ -education, you will render valuable service, morally and religiously, to -society at large.” - -After referring to the value of the Canal Boats Act, and the amendments I -propose, Mr. Dixon said that he should be pleased to further my efforts -at any time. - -A minister of the town writes me to say that a number of vans left the -town on Thursday night or early on Friday morning. In the 15 vans he -visited he found 48 children and 22 men and women, only six of whom could -read and write a little. The rest were growing up as ignorant as -heathen, and with the exception of two of the vans, dirt and wretchedness -abounded in their _homes_. He said also that the conduct of the gipsies -and other travellers at this fair has been better than in former years. - -Notwithstanding the reports that have been in circulation, enough to -shake the nerves of timid folks, I am received kindly and civilly by all -the gipsies. One gipsy woman named Smith in a jocular term said, “Mr. -Smith, we have been told that you are going to take all our children away -from us and send them to school; you will require a mighty big school, -bigger than any in the world, to hold them, I can assure you.” - -A few yards from where we were standing there was a van, into which I was -invited to tea by the poor woman, the “mistress of the _house_.” In this -wooden tumble-down house upon wheels, about 9 ft. long by 5 ft. wide, and -6 ft. high, there were man, wife, and seven children in a most dirty and -heartrending condition. The youngest was a baby only three weeks old, -and was born in the van at Weedon. - -I had a long chat with the good-natured woman. As I sat upon an old sack -at the bottom of the van, with the children in rags and dirt creeping -round me, and in the midst of an odour not at all pleasant to the -olfactory organs, I felt as if my heart was almost ready to break at the -sight of human woe and misery before me. To say that I could have wept -hot briny tears would not convey in language telling enough the strong -feeling of sympathy that crept over me, to the extent of almost freezing -the blood in my veins. For a moment I seemed to lose sight of everything -else in the fair, and it was with some difficulty I could refrain from -crying out, as I stepped from amongst the poor little forgotten and -neglected children, and out of this gipsy house, with a cocoa-nut which -“Jack” would thrust into my bag, “Good Lord! when shall these sad things -and these wretched and pitiable sights come to an end? Would to God that -the trumpet which is to bring to life the dead would begin to ring! ring! -ring! and thrill into our ears a nervous, disquieting solo, keeping on -and on till it has awoke us all up—aye! ministers, philanthropists, -Christians of every grade, moralists, members of Parliament, cabinet -ministers, and peers—to a sense of our duty towards the little and big -heathens at our own door, before our fate becomes as that of Belshazzar -and Babylon.” - - “Oh say, in all the bleak expanse - Is there a spot to win your glance - So bright, so dark as this? - A hopeless faith, a homeless race.” - - “_Lyrics of Palestine_,” _Religious Tract Society_. - -I answer, No. - -No children in lovely, beautiful England, the bright star of the West, -stand so much in need of help as do our poor canal and gipsy children, -who are living outside our factory, educational, and sanitary laws, and, -with some bright exceptions, religious influences. - - - - -Short Excursions and Rambles in the Bypaths of Gipsydom. - - -SOME time ago a gipsy named Shaw was found in a Northamptonshire -churchyard at midnight, asleep between the gravestones, with his fiddle -by his side. When awakened by a wandering policeman crying out, “Now -then, move on,” gipsy Shaw grunted and growled out, “Who’s there? What -do you want, Mr. Devil? Wake these others up; they’ve been here longer -than me, and when they goes I’ll go, and not till then, Mr. Devil; and so -make yourself scarce.” The policeman saw, and in fact knew, that Shaw -was a queer kind of customer, and he therefore let him snore and sleep -among dead men’s bones till morning. On the following morning Mr. -Policeman met gipsy Shaw with his fiddle (_Boshomengro_) under his arm, -when he called out, “Halloo, Shaw, you’ve left your companions behind you -after all.” “Yes,” said gipsy Shaw; “when I opened my eyes it was -daylight, and the sun was shining in my face, and I thought over fresh -considerations.” - -At the present time the gipsies and other travellers in this country are -among the dead men’s bones of backwood gipsy writers and their -present-day sins and wrong-doings, with Mr. John Bull standing by, saying -in effect to the lost gipsies and their children, “Snore on, sleep on; -stick to your fiddles and the devil; care not a straw for either parsons -or priests.” - -If John Bull cares not, will not and won’t do for the children of -travellers the same as he is doing for other children within his -dominions, and what his Continental neighbours are doing for theirs, it -is time the gipsies themselves “thought over fresh considerations,” and -walked out into open day, and demanded the blessings of English civilized -life in a way that will readily secure an attentive ear to the cries and -wails of their children. - -Thank God, a few writers of tales and stories of a healthy, interesting, -elevating, and heavenly kind are coming to the rescue of the poor gipsy, -canal, and other travelling children. May their name be Legion and their -motto be Fairelie Thornton’s lines in the _Sunday School Chronicle_— - - “Direct the words I say, - Oh, let them reach the heart; - Let there be wingèd words alway, - And light and life impart.” - -On my way to Edinburgh in October, 1880, to read a paper before the -Social Science Congress, upon the condition of our gipsies and their -children, I took occasion to call at Leicester races on my way, and -paddled ankle deep in mud and quagmire to try to ascertain how many gipsy -and other travelling children there were upon the course living in tents -and vans. At a rough calculation there would be fully four hundred -children and two hundred men and women huddling together in eighty of -these wretched temporary abodes. Not a score of the children, except a -few snatches in the winter, were receiving any education other than such -as is obtained upon a racecourse and its associations, giving and taking -lessons in the initiatory stage of a gambler’s life. The following cases -will give some idea of the state of morality amongst the wandering -classes. Phillips, a gipsy from Maidstone, had in his van one woman and -eleven children; Green, a gipsy from Bristol, had in his van two men, two -women, and eleven children; Brinklow, a gipsy, had in his van two women -and seven children; Lee, a gipsy from London, had in his tent two young -men, one woman, and seven children; making a total of forty-seven men, -women, and children of all ages and sizes, huddling together in these -four tents and vans, not two of whom could read or write a sentence. -Mrs. Brinklow said her eldest girl attended a Bible-class at Bristol in -the winter, which led me to think that the gipsy girl could read, but on -inquiry I found she could not tell a letter. Those who are spellbound by -gipsy fascination and admire the “witching eyes” of picturesque human -degradation and depravity, will consider this in the nineteenth century a -state of civilization preparing us for the millennium, when the lion -shall lie down with the lamb, and all tears be wiped away. - -Last autumn I visited the gipsies at Cherry Island, near London, and -found about thirty tents, in which there were between one and two hundred -gipsy children growing up worse than Zulus. For one minute let us get -inside one of the gipsy tents in which these children are born, and in -which they live and die. It is about seven feet wide, sixteen feet long, -and where the round top is highest, is about four feet and a half in -height. It is covered with pieces of old canvas or sacking to keep out -the cold and rain, and the entrance is closed with a kind of curtain; the -fire by which they cook their meals is placed in a tin bucket pierced -with holes. Some of the smoke from the burning sticks goes out of an -opening in the top of the tent that serves as a chimney, while the rest -of it fills the place and helps to keep their faces and hands a proper -gipsy colour. The bed is a little straw laid on the damp ground, covered -with a sack or sheet, as the case may be; an old soap-box or tea-chest -serves both as cupboard and table. Here they live, father and mother, -brothers and sisters, huddled up together. They live like pigs, and die -like dogs. Washing is but little known amongst them; and of such -luxuries as knives and forks, chairs and tables, plates and cups, they -are very independent. They take their meals, and do what work they do, -squatting on the ground; and the knives and forks they use are of the -kind that Adam used, and sensitive when dipped in hot water. Lying, -begging, and pretended fortune-telling have as much to do with their -living as chair-mending, tinkering, and hawking. The heaviest work falls -to the lot of the women, who may often be seen with a child upon their -backs, another in their arms, and a heavily-laden basket by their side. -The men lounge about the lanes and hedges with their dogs, whilst the -children grow up in such ignorance and sin as to deserve the name of -_ditch-dwelling heathens_. - - [Picture: Gipsy quarters, Plaistow marshes] - -The winter drives many of the gipsies to encamp in the marshes, or in the -disused brickfields near London. Anything more dismal and wretched than -this life it is hard to think of. All the poetry of gipsying is clean -gone then, and nothing is left but filth, poverty, vice, and misery. In -Hackney Marshes and elsewhere about London you may find scores of these -tents, often so rotten that a stiff wind would blow them away. Creeping -into one of them, almost on all fours, you find half-naked gipsy children -squatting upon the ground, busy at skewer-cutting, for which they get -from tenpence to one shilling for fourteen pounds’ weight. Or else the -family is at work in the more elaborate processes of making clothes-pegs. -One chops sticks the right length; another trims them into shape and -flings them into a pan of hot water; a child picks out the floating -pieces and bites off the bark; and then a bigger lad fastens the two -together with a strip of tin, and the clothes-peg is ready. So the -dreary day goes by until the lurcher dog springs up, the unfailing -attendant of the gipsy man, and the women of the family return with the -scraps they have picked up in questionable ways at back doors, and with -the proceeds of their sales. At night all lie down where they have -worked, and sleep as they are, with but a rag between them and the bleak -night of pitiless rain and snow. Here the gipsy children are born and -brought up. Here they live and here they die, almost as far away from -the track of any day-school or Sunday-school as if they were African -savages. - -The poor wandering outcast gipsy child can say with Phineas Fletcher in -the “Fuller Worthies”— - - “See, Lord, see, I am dead; - Tomb’d in myself, myself my grave: - A drudge, so born, so bred, - Myself, even to myself, a slave.” - - * * * * * - - “Ask’st Thou no beauty but to cleanse and clothe me? - If, then, Thou lik’st, put forth Thy hand and take me.” - -Two years ago I attended a village feast in the neighbourhood of Bedford, -and found, as usual, a large gathering of gipsies and others of a similar -class plying their avocation among the “knock’em downs,” “three shies a -penny,” &c. On arriving at the place I found “a gipsy row upon the -carpet,” and on going up to one of the gipsies to ask him what it was all -about, a gipsy some fifty yards off, more like a madman than anything -else, began to bawl out all sorts of hard things, and in doing so other -gipsies began to cluster round us, and to all appearance I seemed to be -in a fair way for being in the midst of a “Welsh fight.” So I said to -the gipsy who was standing by me, “I’ll go to see what he wants.” “If -you do,” the gipsy replied, “he will knock you down.” I said, “Then I -will go to be knocked down,” and away I went, and while I was going along -the mad gipsy was literally foaming with rage, and uttering oaths and -curses on my head not quite as thick as hailstones. On arriving before -his majesty I began to smile at him, and said as I put out my hand to -him, “Will you shake hands?” At this he drew back a little, and said, -“What do you mean?” I said, “Lend me your hand.” He again said, with -more emphasis than before, “What do you mean?” Ultimately he put out his -hand into mine, and the result was nothing would please him and the other -gipsies but that we must drink some ginger-beer together. And while this -was going on a gipsy from Barking Road, London, whom I had seen before, -whispered in his ear who I was, and that I was trying to get their -children educated. So nothing would serve them but to explain in a -public-house bar how the education of the gipsy children was to be -brought about, which plan seemed to please them amazingly; and at the end -of my tale they again closed in upon me, but this time to thank and bless -me. The foremost in doing so was the mad gipsy whom I faced in the -storm, saying, as he shook hands with both hands in a rough fashion, “I -do love you, that I do, for taking so much trouble over our children.” -After similar greetings from the others we parted. Only one out of the -large number of gipsies there could read and write, and he had taken to -gipsying from the boarding-school at the age of seventeen, and, sad to -say, neither his wife nor one of their eight children could tell a -letter; and he further said that he was sure there was not one gipsy in a -hundred who could read a sentence. To the gipsies I would say with a -writer in _Hand and Heart_, Ah! - - “Mistaken mortals, did you know - Where joy, heart’s ease, and comforts grow!” - - [Picture: An English gipsy king—“krális”—lying in wait in his palace, - králisko-kair] - -In May, 1880, I visited one of the largest towns in the midland counties, -with the object of ascertaining the probable number of shows, vans, and -other movable abodes there were in and round the outskirts of the town, -and found close about thirty. These, together with others in various -parts of the country, would in all probability bring the number to nearly -forty-five. No doubt other counties would furnish similar results. In -showing the number of those who live in these vans I will quote the -following seven cases as a specimen. The numbers were given to me by a -man and his wife, who own and live in one of the vans about the size of a -carrier’s dray, following the profession of “knock-’em-down.” B—, man, -wife, and eleven children of all ages and sizes; S—, man, wife, and four -children; J—, man, wife, and five children; P—, man, wife, and seven -children; B—, man, wife, and four children; E—, man, wife, and seven -children; N—, man, wife, and five children. By these figures it will be -seen that there are forty-three children and fourteen men and women, with -four-fifths at least of English blood in their veins, living in these -seven vans. Few of these persons can read or write. I should think -scarcely half a dozen could write their own names. In the case of the -man B—, two children could just put three letters together, and two could -just write their own names, and this was the extent of their education. -Some of the “popgun” owners I have known personally for some years. One -of the sons worked for me, and would by this time have been earning his -£1 per week; but instead of this the whole family of twelve have taken to -this libertine kind of wandering existence, with a prospect that does not -look very encouraging, and many others are doing the same thing. These -cases are given to show what is going on all over the country. In some -instances the parents would send their children to school, but they say -they cannot afford to pay for a week’s schooling when the children can -only attend a day or two. It seems hardly fair to make those who of all -others should have their education encouraged to pay three times as much -as town residents, which is the case when the children attend three -different schools in one week. These ramblers are on the increase, and -it is high time they were taken in hand. James, a man well known, and -who travels with a “ginger-bread stall,” said, when I told him my object -and what the results would be, as he filled my hand full of his best -“Grantham ginger-bread,” “God bless you, man, for it, and I wish with all -my heart it would come to pass to morrow. Will it be three months -first?” I told him that I thought it would be a much longer time than -that, at which he shook his head, and said it was a “bad job.” - -The gipsies of England have nothing in the past to thank us for, except -the policeman’s cudgel and the “wheel of fortune” in the big “stone jug.” -No one has taken them by the hand to lift and lead them out from among -the dead men’s bones and demoralizing scenes in the midst of which they -have been content with hellish delight to revel. Thank God, a few -kind-hearted friends are beginning to notice them in their degraded -condition, and to write to me on the subject. One of the leading woollen -manufacturers of Scotland wrote to me in 1881 as follows: - - “DEAR SIR,— - - “I can testify to the horrible social state of the van population at - described in your occasional communications to the _Times_. This - class of people overflow in Scotland, and for some years I have had - occasion to observe their habits and habitations. But hitherto no - persons in authority seem to take any interest in the matter, though - it is one of grave social importance. We have visits of people who - live in vans, who bring to the town such entertainments as shooting - galleries, hobby horses, and any kind of trumpery exhibitions. These - concerns are made up of families who pig together in their vans in a - state which defies decency or sanitary rules. Whole families house - in these small boxes upon wheels, usually in size about eight or nine - feet by five feet. One lady recently tried to converse with some - children of this class, and found they were ignorant of everything - that was good. A gentleman interviewed one of the male heads of one - family or group. He said his wife had had seventeen children, all - born in the van in different counties of England. Within a few yards - of my own door a van just lately stood for a night, in which slept - one woman and five men or lads. The man—if he were the father—said - they dealt in horses, and belonged to Hull, and they travelled the - country living in their van, which was about eight feet by five feet. - What I complain of is that, while local residents are made subject to - various rules, educational and social, police, and sanitary order, - these people should escape all kinds of supervision, and be literally - a law unto themselves. I can well understand the strong reasons you - have for calling public attention to such an evil.” - -The Rev. John L. Gardiner, vicar of Sevenoaks, wrote me in 1880 stating -the guardians in his place were thinking of moving the authorities to -take some steps for ameliorating their condition. In 1880 I received the -following letter from a right worthy, good, and true working man living -in Derby: - - “DEAR SIR,— - - “I doubt not but that you will feel surprised at receiving a letter - from me, an entire stranger to you; but I feel certain that the - subject which I wish to bring before you will be a sufficient apology - for my intrusion on your valuable time. I have very recently seen in - the public journals allusions to another appeal from you on behalf of - our poor gipsy and van children, whom you are striving to reclaim - from a life of utter ignorance, and I wish you a hearty Godspeed in - your noble endeavours. I doubt not, if it could be ascertained, - there are thousands of these poor children in our land of boasted - Christianity growing up in ignorance and crime, and enduring the - greatest amount of misery that we could imagine. I have no doubt but - that a large percentage of our worst criminals emanate from this - class of poor children. When I think of these poor outcasts, and - think that they are my brothers and sisters, made by the same Divine - hand and bearing His own image, and for whom Christ died that they - should be raised up to Him, I feel my heart burn within me, and I - often pray to God that He would raise up some one able to plead their - cause.” - -Early in 1880 a lady at Sherborne, Dorset, wrote me as follows: - - “I have always taken a deep interest in them. I have again and again - wished that I could help to make them more intelligent and useful, - for they are not a stupid race. About two months since a poor young - woman of this class called at my house with a beautiful infant almost - naked. I relieved her, and inquired the whereabouts of their - encampments, which was about one and a half miles distant from my - home. I went over to see them, and I assure you my heart yearned to - do something to help to sweeten the atmosphere of their moral life. - There were youths and maidens, children, old women and old men; but - alas! I was powerless to do anything for them.” - -A clergyman of high standing, near Salisbury, wrote me in 1880 to say -that a committee of the Salisbury Diocesan Synod had commissioned him to -collect information bearing on the neglected condition of the population -accustomed for the greater part of the year to live in caravans and -attend fairs in the diocese. “I could,” continued the worthy clergyman, -“bring before you many proofs of the wretchedly ignorant and degraded -condition of the class I am speaking of, which have come under my own -personal notice; but I know I am writing to one better informed on the -subject than any one.” Later on the Canon wrote me stating that the -clerk of the market in Salisbury had told him that the stray population -imported into the town as traders, showmen, &c., for an autumn fair -amounted to about five hundred, and the fair was by no means a large one. - -Last year a clergyman at Tavistock wrote me as follows: - - “DEAR SIR,— - - “Your letter in yesterday’s _Western Morning News_ respecting the - education of the canal boat children reminds me of the question of - the education of gipsy children, in which subject I believe you take - a very active interest. I occasionally visit the gipsy tents and - vans when they come into this neighbourhood, and find that a great - many of these people admit that they cannot read, and others say they - can read a little; but I fear that the great majority of the gipsy - population are quite unable to read, and have very hazy ideas on the - great principles of religion. - - “It seems quite a reproach to the English nation to allow these - wandering people to continue in its midst without some efforts - towards Christianizing them. Although the subject is no doubt a - difficult one, it would not seem impracticable to get these gipsy - children to attend school at certain centres for portions of the - year. I don’t know what has been done in the matter, but I wish you - every success in your efforts for attaining this object, as well as - for obtaining the efficient carrying out of the Canal Boats Act.” - -In 1881 a leading and active county magistrate of Danbury, Essex, wrote -me as follows: - - “DEAR SIR,— - - “I observe that you say in your recent letter to the Secretary of the - Lord’s Day Observance Society, that the ‘extension of the principle - of the _Canal Boats Act_ to all _gipsy tents_, _vans_, and other - movable or _temporary dwellings_, should be brought about by all - means.’ I should he extremely pleased to aid in this work, for we - reside near Danbury Common, where all the worst features of the - vagrant life may be certainly seen. Numbers of little ones are daily - passing before us untaught, and suffering in health through exposure - to cold and wet, versed in arts of deception and quite inaccessible - to influence. During the severe weather lately we had several - ruffianly fellows on the common who defied interference with the most - lawless proceedings. They went about in gangs breaking up gates and - fences, and committing thefts and depredations all around the common. - Any ordinary police force is quite inadequate to check or control - them when a few reckless men chance to come together. They carried - away and broke up two pates from a farm of mine on the other side of - the common, and several occupiers on that side suffered severely from - their violence. But all this is really of little importance compared - with the question of _the children’s_ condition of ignorance and - general ill-being. I am sure that those who dwelt _under tents_ must - have perished or laid the foundation of fatal disease during the late - severe weather. It is clearly against public policy that parents - should be allowed thus to trifle with the health of their children; - and of course the same objection applies to their want of education. - There are gradations of well (or ill) being among these poor - wandering folks, as you no doubt are well aware. Some are in - comfortable vans, and earn an honest livelihood by some - handicraft—tinkering, basket-making; but those who possess scarcely - anything but the tent that covers them are in a miserable plight in - deep snow or in wet weather, and young children are placed in peril. - I will not weary you by enlarging on this topic, which must, - moreover, be sadly familiar to you. I desired to assure you, as I - now do, that I will do anything in my power to extend the legislation - which you have already had the happiness of effecting to those poor - outcasts who may doubtless through England be reckoned by thousands.” - -Early in the present year a Scotch Presbyterian clergyman at Aberfeldy -wrote me to say that he had been deeply impressed for some time by the -necessity there was for the State to take in hand the gipsy and similar -travellers, and had last year got the Presbyterians of Breadalbane to -petition Parliament to take some action in the way of improving the -condition of the gipsies. - -J. T. Pierce, Esq., J.P., county magistrate of Essex, writes me again -under date October 2, 1882: - - “Can you oblige me by forwarding a copy of the Bill amending your - Act, 40 and 41 Vict. c. 60? I am desirous of bringing the question - of _registration of vans_, &c., before my fellow magistrates at our - next quarter sessions. The children who dwell in small vans and - _under tents_ cannot receive education under the present state of - things, and it is seldom any of them are got into industrial schools. - Possibly the magistrates of different counties might help forward the - extension of your scheme in favour of these poor children. There is - a common here on which we get a large number of them every year, and - I have had a fair opportunity of seeing how urgent is the need of - legislation, unless the children are to remain in their present state - of ignorance and dirt. No thoughtful man can desire this, and you - have already done so much in this direction that every one who thinks - about it must wish to strengthen your hands for further work.” - -The foregoing independent statements, given by persons I have never seen, -extracted out of shoals of letters I have received, will faintly show -what is going on all over the country among our English heathens and hell -trainers; while sensual, backwood, romantic gipsy novelists have been -drawing a film over our eyes. - -I have received a number of suggestions as to how the gipsy problem -should be solved. A Scotch Presbyterian minister suggests that the -children should be sent to an industrial reformatory; in fact, he would -obliterate them with an iron hand from the face of the earth. He goes on -to say that the recent School Act is useless for them in Scotland. They -can and do with ease evade all its requirements. - -One kind-hearted lady, who writes to me from Brentwood, thinks that -separate schools should be built for the gipsy and other travelling -children. Neither of these suggestions are practicable and workable: the -former is too severe for English liberty, and the latter too wild and -scattered; and it would also be too costly, and in the end it would prove -a failure. - -On October 25, 1882, I sent Mr. Mundella copies of my Social Science -Congress papers, with the hope of eliciting something from him as to what -steps the Government proposed taking in the matter, and the following is -his reply: - - “PRIVY COUNCIL OFFICE, - WHITEHALL, - _October_ 26, 1882. - - “DEAR SIR, - - “I am much obliged to you for the copies of the papers read by you in - the Health Department of the Social Science Congress on the Canal - Boats Act and on the gipsy children, and I will give the same my - careful attention. I shall be very thankful if anything can be done - to remedy the evils affecting the neglected children referred to in - your papers, and to whose interest you have given such long and - faithful service. - - “I am, dear sir, - Yours faithfully, - A. J. MUNDELLA. - - “_George Smith_, _Esq._” - -I have thought since I took up the canal crusade in 1872, as my letters -will show, and I cannot for the life of me do otherwise than think so -now, that the Canal Boats Act Amending Bill I am humbly promoting could -be made to include all movable habitations and temporary dwellings. The -counsel to the Education Department, Mr. Ilbert, thought otherwise, and -of course I have had to submit to the “ruling of the chair.” He thought -that a separate Act would better meet the case of the gipsy and other -travelling children. I am not now alone in my idea of including all -movable dwellings in my Canal Amending Bill; for since I mooted the -subject in my letters to the press and in other ways, friends have come -round to see that there is something in the suggestion worthy of notice. -Canal-boat cabins and vans are boxes in which are stived up human beings -of all ages and sizes, without either regard for health, morals, sense or -decency, packed closer than the poor unfortunate creatures in the black -hole of Calcutta were. These moving homes are drawn, in many instances, -by animals with only one step between them and the blood- or foxhound’s -teeth. The only difference is, one home is moving through the country -upon our magnificent, black, streaky canals, of the enormous width of -about twenty feet, and an average of three feet deep. For the size of -boats and boat cabins and other particulars I must refer my readers to my -works, “Our Canal Population,” and “Canal Adventures by Moonlight,” and -for the full particulars of gipsy tents, vans, &c., to my “Gipsy Life.” - -The last Essex Michaelmas Quarter Sessions, with Sir H. Selwin Ibbetson, -Bart., M.P., in the chair, was supported by between forty and fifty -leading county magistrates. The following is taken from the _Chelmsford -Chronicle_, October 20, 1882: - - “THE CANAL ACT AMENDMENT BILL.—Mr. Pierce suggested that this Bill - should be referred to the Parliamentary Committee, with a view to - their considering whether clauses should not be recommended to - Parliament to be added for dealing with gipsy and travelling show-man - life as well as canal life. Mr. Pierce spoke of the miserable - squalor and unwholesome condition in which the gipsies and travelling - showmen lived, and said he thought it was necessary that their - children, who are absolutely uneducated, and who number about 30,000, - should be looked after. Seconded by Mr. G. A. Lowndes. This motion - was carried.” - -In a leading article upon the subject the _Chronicle_ stated: - - “An excellent suggestion was made to the court by Mr. Pierce. It was - that they should refer the Canal Boats Act Amending Bill to the - Parliamentary Committee, with a view to their recommending to - Parliament the addition of clauses bringing nomadic life—like that of - the gipsy and showman fraternity—within the scope of the measure. Of - gipsy life we have some experience in Essex, and we know that it - stands in sad need of regulation. Mr. Pierce stated, _inter alia_, - and on the authority of Mr. George Smith, of Coalville, that there - are about 30,000 children belonging to gipsies and travelling - showpeople, most of whom are being brought up wholly without - education. It is no less a duty to society than to the children - themselves that this state of things should be put an end to, for we - cannot hope to banish the ruder kinds of crime, such as the vagrant - classes are commonly guilty of, without first banishing ignorance. - In this view we hope that other public bodies will follow the - example, and that the promoters of the Bill about to be brought - forward will be induced to extend it so as to embrace the gipsy and - kindled classes.” - -In July, 1880, Mr. Joseph Cowen very kindly put a question to Mr. Dodson, -the President of the Local Government Board, relating to the education of -gipsy and other travelling children, and the sanitary arrangements of -their homes, and Mr. Dodson replied, “There is considerable difficulty in -dealing with gipsy tents and vans, but the matter has been brought under -the notice of the Board, who will endeavour to deal with it when a -suitable opportunity presents itself for that purpose.” - -The Government had their hands pretty full last year—Ireland and the -Irish at the beginning, Ireland and the Irish in the middle, and Ireland -and the Irish at the end—nearly altogether Irish, which no one grudges to -make our Brothers and Sisters on the Emerald Isle contented, prosperous, -and happy. God grant that her noble sons and daughters may go ahead, and -her “Moonlighters” be swallowed up in the greater light that rules the -day. This being so, I kept myself pretty well occupied in piloting, -altering, and manœuvring my Canal Amending Bill through its initiatory -stages, and had no time to deal with the gipsy problem other than to try -“at every turn and twist” to find a niche, nook, or a peg in the Bill -upon which to hang the gipsy question, which to me did not, and does not -even now, seem at all a difficult thing to do. The more I go into the -details of the canal and gipsy question the simpler they become. All -that is required, as in the case of the brickyard children, is to take -hold of them and to begin to deal with them in a business fashion, as -other questions are dealt with. - -The subject is studded with prickles, but immediately it is grasped the -prickles become harmless. In the distance they look like drawn -glistening daggers, which, as you approach nearer to them, are no more -dreadful than rushes in the meadow. Unearth the Guy Fawkes gipsy -monster, and we shall soon find out a way to deal with gipsy vagabonds -and to reclaim their children. Standing by whimpering, sobbing, and -sorrowing over the children will not pull them out of the gutter; nor -will covering them with backwood gipsy nonsense and trash make them -white. The gipsies and their children are dark and down, and to whiten -and raise them the law and the gospel must come in: first, the law, -schoolmaster, and sanitary officer; and second, the Christian minister -and the gospel. - -In bygone days, under the reign of Elizabeth and the Georges, the -hangman’s hemp and the whipper’s thong were used as a cure for the gipsy -social evil, but with worse than no results. Recently, in Hungary, -measures of another kind were adopted to compel the gipsies to make -themselves scarce. Innumerable complaints had at times reached the chief -of the police from the townsfolk of Szegedin, in Lower Hungary, with -whose portable chattels and goods the gipsies persisted in making free. -The police official was sorely perplexed how to deal with the wandering -ragamuffins. The gipsies in Hungary, as well as in other parts of the -world, have masses of hair—our present race of English gipsies cannot -boast of the raven black hair as formerly—so the chief of the police -conceived the idea of barbering their pates of all their locks. The -gipsies were taken into custody and the town barbers were summoned to -clear the heads of the swarthy gipsies of their present adornments. The -orders were obeyed to the letter, regardless of either sex or age. In a -few minutes the whole tribe with pates as smooth as an ostrich’s egg were -conveyed to the town gates in a state of indescribable discomfiture. I -“guess,” as Jonathan says, they will not for a long time visit Szegedin -again. There is a wide difference between the Hungarian authorities and -the Nottingham town authorities. Not being able to attend the recent -Nottingham goose fair, I wrote to the town clerk and the chief constable -for a few particulars, relating to the condition of the vast numbers of -poor neglected gipsy and other travelling children who attended the -borough fair. The town clerk deigned not to descend from his high -pinnacle to order a reply to my letter. The chief constable, after some -days had passed over, said he would send me some facts, which, though I -reminded him of his promise more than once, are not yet to hand. Gipsy -children may live and gipsy children may die, but these officials, I -suppose, think that they shall go on for ever, and in the end, as a -writer in _The Christian Age_ says, they will - - “Rest where soft shadows lie and grasses wave;” - -at least they hope so. Full particulars of the hardships and cruelties -practised upon the gipsies for their wrongdoing will be found in my -“Gipsy Life.” - -Knowing full well as I do that nothing but salutary measures of the kind -I propose, and have proposed for many long years, will meet the case, I -had again the audacity to put the question to the Government, through Mr. -Burt, with the object of eliciting from them the steps—if any—they -proposed taking this Session for dealing with the gipsy problem. - - “WELTON, DAVENTRY, - _November_ 16, 1882. - - “MY DEAR MR. BURT, - - “I shall be glad if you will put the enclosed questions to the - Government for me relating to the gipsy children. With kind regards, - - “Very sincerely yours, - GEORGE SMITH, _of Coalville_.” - -The questions and answers are taken from the _Times_, _Morning Post_, -_Standard_, _Daily Chronicle_, and the leading papers throughout the -country. - - “TEMPORARY ABODES. - - “Mr. Burt—To ask the President of the Local Government Board if the - Government intend taking any steps early next session for bringing - temporary abodes such as shows, tents, vans, and places of the kind, - under the influence of the sanitary officers.” - -Mr. Dodson, the President, said he would “consider whether the law as it -stood was in need of amendment in this respect; but he could not, on this -any more than on any other subject, now give any undertaking as to the -introduction of a Bill next session.” - - “GIPSY CHILDREN. - - “Mr. Burt—To ask the Vice-President of the Committee of Council on - Education if the Government intend taking any steps early next - session for bringing about the education of gipsy and other - travelling children living in vans, carts, shows, and other temporary - dwellings.” - -Mr. Mundella said: “It is exceedingly difficult to devise any effectual -scheme for the education of the nomadic population referred to in the -question of my hon. friend, and up to the present we have received no -suggestion for dealing with the subject which appears to be practical. -The matter, however, is ‘under consideration,’ and we propose during the -recess to confer with the Local Government Board respecting it.” - -Mr. Burt wrote to me as follows: - - “HOUSE OF COMMONS, - _November_ 22, 1882. - - “MY DEAR MR. SMITH, - - “You will see from the _Times_ to-day the answers given by Mr. Dodson - and Mr. Mundella. They are not so encouraging as one would like, - though it may do good to call attention to the subject. - - “Very truly yours, - THOMAS BURT.” - -Parliament having been opened February 15, 1883, I began to make a move -towards getting my Canal Boats Act Amendment Bill before the House of -Commons for the third time—last year it was introduced to the House of -Lords by Earl Stanhope—and lost no time in seeing my friends Mr. Burt and -others upon the subject, some of whose names are upon the back of the -Bill. The names upon the Bill are as follows: Mr. Burt, Mr. S. Morley, -Mr. John Corbett, Mr. Pell, and Mr. Broadhurst. Feeling anxious, and -seeing no difficulty in the matter, I wrote to Mr. Burt on March 3, 1883, -about introducing a clause in the Bill to include gipsy and other -travelling children—my plans for improving the condition of the canal -children and gipsy children being identically the same in _every -__particular_ so far as the provisions of the Act are concerned—and he -replied as under: - - “HOUSE OF COMMONS, - _March_ 8, 1883. - - “DEAR MR. SMITH, - - “If you want a new clause or any alteration in the Bill, kindly write - it out on a copy of the Bill and forward it to me. - - “I have seen Sir Charles Dilke, and he advises me to talk the matter - over with Mr. Hibbert. I shall do so as soon as I can see Mr. - Hibbert. - - “I go to Newcastle to-morrow, returning on Monday night or Tuesday. - - “I am not hopeful that the Government will do anything in the present - state of business. - - “Yours truly, - THOMAS BURT.” - -I added the following clause to the Bill, and at the same time I gave -under the Bill more power to the Education Department than I had done in -the previous Bills. - -The new clause affecting gipsy children runs thus: - - “11. The expressions ‘Canal Boats,’ ‘Canal Boat,’ and ‘Boat,’ in the - principal Act and this Act, and also in the regulations of the Local - Government Board and Education Department, shall include all - travelling and temporary dwellings not rated for the relief of the - poor.” - -I forwarded copies of the Amended Bill to Sir Charles Dilke, the new -President of the Local Government Board, and also to Mr. Mundella, the -Vice President of the Committee of Council on Education, and here are -their replies. A few days previously I had written to Sir Charles Dilke -and Mr. Mundella, urging them to take up the Bill; in fact, I have for -years been pressing the Government to take up the Bill, as one that will -do much good and bring them much credit. Of course I cannot expect them -to do impossibilities. I know their hands are full; at the same time the -period has come when the sixty thousand canal and gipsy children must be -educated and cared for by “hook or by crook,” as being of primary -importance for the country’s welfare to the thousand and one things that -are now before Parliament. - - “LOCAL GOVERNMENT BOARD, WHITEHALL, - _March_ 14, 1883. - - “DEAR SIR, - - “I have to thank you for the copy of the Bill you have sent to Sir - Charles Dilke. In consequence of Mr. Ashton Dilke’s death he will - not be present in the House of Commons this week. - - “Yours truly, - A. E. C. BODLEY. - - “_George Smith_, _Esq._” - - * * * * * - - “PRIVY COUNCIL OFFICE, - _March_ 14, 1883. - - “SIR, - - “Mr. Mundella desires me to thank you for sending him a copy of your - Canal Boats Act Amendment Bill enclosed in your letter of the 12th - inst. - - “Yours faithfully, - H. T. BRYANT. - - “_George Smith_, _Esq._” - -My days of hard work, and scores of letters written in relation to the -questions put to Mr. Dodson and Mr. Mundella, have brought forth the -usual molehill of “under consideration.” The political fields of moral -and social progress are full of crotchets and molehills. Would to God -that either John Bull with his horns or John Straw with his spade would -level them to the ground. - -At any rate those mountainous molehills, six inches high, which are -checking the van of social progress, laden as it is—aye, heaped up—with -blessings for the thirty thousand poor little gipsy children who are -starving to death in our midst, in the mud, rotten straw, filth, and rags -of a soul-perishing and body-killing nature, amidst which the poor gipsy -child has to live. - -The greatest difficulties I know of are the dung heaps scattered about by -sensational trash backwood gipsy writers. I can almost imagine our -imported and other Demetriuses and damsels calling out on the steps of -St. Stephen’s, Westminster, “Sirs, ye know that by this craft we have our -wealth.” “Paul hath persuaded and turned away much people.” “Our craft -is in danger to be set at nought.” “Let us hang the devil.” - -The registration official overcomes “difficulties” when he registers a -gipsy hawker’s van in order that he may extract £4 from him; and the -policeman overcomes “difficulties” when he brings to bay before a bench -of magistrates a gipsy child for stealing a turnip, or a gipsy poacher -for making too free with a partridge. There are seas of “difficulties” -to be waded through, it would seem, before the gipsy children are to be -led to the school doors, and the sanitary inspectors to their -suffocating, immoral, and unhealthy homes. It is un-English, wicked, and -unjust to deliver the gipsy and other travelling children over to the -policeman, without ever having taught them to know right from wrong in -day and Sunday schools. A terrible day of reckoning and vengeance awaits -us for our wrongdoings towards our present-day English gipsy children, -think about it as lightly as we may. - -The sanitary inspector steps into lodging-houses to prevent overcrowding. -The factory inspector steps, without an invitation, into the workshop to -prohibit the overworking of children. The Board of Trade officer will -not allow overcrowding of ships, although they may be classed as A1 at -Lloyd’s. Overcrowding in barracks and workhouses is not allowed, and the -School Board officer steps into a labourer’s household—the head of which, -with a large family surrounding him, only earns about 12s. per week—under -pain of a fine and the “squire’s” displeasure, and orders the young -urchins off “neck and crop” to school; while canal and gipsy children are -left out in the cold. - -Two years ago I invited twelve gipsy children, who were living in two -vans and attending our feast, to tea on our hearthstone. Although three -of the parents could read and write, and ten of the children were of -school age, not one of the poor little things could tell a letter. All -the van-dwellers were in the lowest depths of degradation, filth, and -misery. They were surrounded with sunshine, and yet it never entered -their wretched dwelling; at any rate they never opened their door with -glad hearts and thankful song to receive its cheering rays. - -The chimes and music of church bells seemed to have no other effect upon -their lives than the bringing forth of the cries of misery, wails of -anguish, and groans of despair. The beautiful robes with which nature -was clothed made their ragged, wretched torn garments look as if they had -been pulled to pieces, torn and stuck together by demons who had thrown -off all moral restraint, and were following the downward tendencies of -human nature to their hearts’ content. Three of the parents once had a -comfortable settled home, but alas! alas! it seems to be all over, and a -blacker future for the children awaits them, if the Government do not -take the poor things by the hand and lead them a step forwards and -upwards. - -At the close of 1882 I visited, on a Sunday afternoon, a camp of gipsies -upon Turnham Green. There were five vans and tents, and fourteen men and -women and seventeen children squatting round their fires upon the wet and -slushy grass. As I neared them, five of the gipsy children, half naked, -came running towards me. One little curly-headed fellow, named Boswell, -shouted out, “If you please, guv’-nor, have you come to teach us to read, -the same as a kind lady did last summer? We wish you would. Have you -brought us any picture books? Please read a bit to us.” After a few -minutes chat with them, I emptied my bag of cards, and with a sorrowful -heart left the gipsy children in their ignorance to speed their wishes -into the air, so it appears. With a writer in the _Sunday Magazine_, I -say with a deep, deep-drawn sigh— - - “Oh the wandering waifs and strays, - In hiding day and night, - And lacking verdant shelter, - On their lives a blight; - Aye, creeping far and farther - From the eyes of men; - If they find a lodging, - ’Tis in some horrid den!” - -A little later on I went to Daventry and found a man—a tradesman—in the -market-place, exhibiting a deformed pony rather than follow his own -trade. Both man and wife could read and write—in fact, the woman had -once been a Sunday-school teacher—but not one of their five children -could read a sentence. - -Only the other day, our good vicar’s respected wife, Mrs. Darnell, in -company with her niece, Miss Stansfeld, took shelter in a cottage, rather -than face two most repulsive-looking men and one woman with seven -children, who were tramping the country in a most wretched and forlorn -condition. Their only home consisted in an old handcart full of rags, -upon which were perched, on a most bitterly cold and wet day, three poor -gipsy children; and the other four children were trudging by the side of -the hand-cart scarcely able to get one foot before the other. Their -shoeless footprints seemed to cry out loud for help. Many gipsies camp -upon Cannock Chase from time to time, and such is their character that -people passing that way in dark hours generally take the precaution to be -armed with pistols, and to have dogs by their sides. - -Think about it lightly as we may, the evils of gipsying are on the -increase in this country. Fortune-telling and deceit are taking fast -hold upon the “silly girls and young chaps.” Very recently the _Daily -News_ reported a case in Dorsetshire where two gipsy women induced a -dairyman’s wife to part with her sovereigns for a sheep’s heart studded -with pins in mystic patterns outside, and crammed inside with bright -farthings. The heart was to be hung in the chimney till Easter, when it -was to be taken out and all the farthings to be turned into sovereigns. -The woman’s husband broke the “spell” by pulling the heart out of the -chimney before Easter. The _Graphic_, in the spring of 1882, reports a -case of a “white witch” at Plymouth, who declared that the whole crew of -a smack were under a “spell”—and the crew believed it—which “spell” only -the gipsy witch could remove, and of course for money only. The _British -Workman_ for October, 1882, shows a little of some of the evils of -fortune-telling. At the Bradford county police-court recently, Delia -Young, a gipsy, was charged with fortune-telling. For some weeks the -prisoner, with a number of other gipsies, had been staying at a village -named Wyke, and hundreds of persons of all ages and both sexes had -visited her. Her fees ranged from ls. to 5s., the latter sum being -charged when a “planet was ruled.” It was stated that her earnings must -have averaged several guineas a day for many months. For the defence it -was contended that the prisoner and her family had told fortunes at -Blackpool during the season for twenty years. She was fined £5 and -costs, with the alternative of two months’ imprisonment. The money was -paid. - -I have visited more than once the gipsies upon Plaistow marshes in -company with Mr. —, and also with my son, and found about thirty families -squatting about in their vans and tents, up to their knees in mud, and in -a most heartrending condition. Farmers house their pigs in a much better -condition than we found the poor lost gipsies tented and housed. Gipsy -children came round us by the score. There would be not fewer than -between a hundred and a hundred and fifty poor little creatures, growing -up without ever visiting either the school or the church, although there -were a magnificent school and church within a stone’s throw. The -sanitary inspector, school board officer, and Christian ministers were -unknown to those wretched, lost gipsy children. They are fully -acquainted with the policeman and his doings. In one or two of the vans -smallpox and fever appeared to me to be at work. Round the outskirts of -London there will be nearly 3,000 gipsies tenting and squatting about. -They generally find the lowest and swampy spots. - -My scores of visits to various parts of the country during many years are -not recorded here, but the same sorrowful tale is everywhere manifest. - -It does seem that letters of blood and words of fire will be needed to -arouse the hearts and consciences of my countrymen, and compel them to -observe the dark side of human life which lies close to our eyes and -noses; and to draw the veil of ignorance away which is preventing the sun -of civilization carrying out its mission among our own outcasts. - - “The darkness falls, the wind is high, - Dense black clouds till the western sky, - The storm will soon begin. - The thunders roar, the lightnings flash, - I hear the great round rain drops dash; - Are all the children in?” - - _The Christian Freeman_, 1877 _and_ 1878. - -I answer, “No! no!” and with a tear-fetching pang I again say, “No!” The -canal and gipsy children are still outside the door, and our legislators -do not care to open it, owing to the “difficulties” which prevent the -latch from being lifted up. The nail is in the way, and the door is -locked— - - “Nobody kind words pouring - In that gipsy heart’s sad ear, - But all of us ignoring - What lies at our door so near.” - - _The Christian Freeman_. - - - - -Rambles among the Scotch Gipsies at Yetholm. - - -THE 18th of December, 1882, was a bitterly _shil_ (cold) _divvus_ (day), -partly frozen _ghie_ (snow) lay several inches on the _chik_ (ground). -The _dúvel_ (sky) was gloomy and overcast as if threatening this -_doŏvelesto-chairos_ (world) of ours with a fresh outburst of _vénlo_ -(wintry) vengeance. Not a _patrin_ (leaf) was to be seen upon the _rook_ -(tree). The _bával_ (wind) seemed at times to engage in a chorus of -_shoolo_ (whistling) and howling, and other discordant _gúdli_ (noises). -The few linnets, sparrows, bullfinches to be seen hopping about the -_drom_ (road) in quest of _kóben_ (food), were almost starved to -_méripen_ (death); _shil_ (cold) and _bok_ (hunger) had made them tame -and _posh_ (half) _moólo_ (dead). - -In a few minutes I stood at our door with my old grey coat over my arm, -wondering whether I should in my state of health face my cold journey to -Scotland. After a little reflection, quickened by “the path of duty is -the path of safety,” which seemed to be more beautiful than ever, I -started with my bag in hand to tramp my way to the railway station. I -did not feel on the way in a humour for singing, with cap in hand, and in -joyous strains, “Oh! this will be joyful,” but could have said with -Wesley, - - “If in this darksome wild I stray, - Be Thou my Light, be Thou my Way.” - -In the train I duly seated myself, and we sped on till I arrived at -Leicester, the seat of stockings and leather. - -Leicester is a pleasant town, but, as in the case of other towns, there -are a few—only a few, thank God!—fools in it whose light from farthing -candles will become less as her wise men, good and true, increase. After -my landing upon the platform I made my way to the house of my -sister-in-law, and there rested my bones for the night. During my -restless night, with the full blaze of a lamp shining in my face, some of -the following aphorisms were entered in my notebook:— - -The books of infidels, sceptics, socialists, and atheists may be compared -to handfuls of sulphur cast into the fire of public opinion. They give a -bluish flash for a moment, reflecting deathly and ghastly hues upon those -who stand near; which sometimes cause children, and those of weak minds, -narrow vision, and short sight to put their hands into the fire to see -where the deathly colours come from. - -Righteous kings and queens, doing God-like acts to elevate and beautify -their subjects, may be compared to heavenly gardeners, whose business in -life is to beautify human nature and society with an increasing number of -moral tints and splendour, reflected by the heavenly throne, and to -transmit the colouring rays to the human flowers growing up under their -charge; thus making this beautiful earth more like Paradise every year. - -The righteous deeds of a good king or queen, when they emanate from a -heart filled with heavenly desires to render earthly subjects contented -and happy, are seeds that the spirit of evil cannot kill. They will live -and thrive to the end of time, and then they will be transplanted to -heaven to bloom through eternity. - -When a Christian is said to have taken to doubting God’s goodness, -lovingkindness, and fatherly care, he may be said to have drawn down the -blinds of his soul and dimmed his vision of the beauty, power, and love -of Jehovah, the creator and upholder of all things in heaven, earth, and -sea. - -Those who through fraud, craft, and deceit obtain the crown of laurels -won by others will find that, instead of the soft, beautiful leaves, it -will turn into a hard crown of thorns, that will prick sharp and deep -enough to touch the quick of the soul, ruffle the thoughts, disturb the -mind, and trouble the conscience. - -As bees in gathering honey from flowers often transmit many new and -lovely colours to plants and flowers, so in like manner good children in -passing into the world among all kinds of families, especially among the -young, change and beautify by kind words, soft answers, and example the -characters of those they are brought in contact with. - -The words used in faith by good Christian fathers and mothers in blessing -their children are jewels, pearls, and other precious stones, which will -be strung together by angelic hands with golden threads, and worked into -patterns that are to adorn the children as they walk over the plains of -Paradise. They are the immortal flowers of earth, with a life within -them that will transform them into the everlasting flowers of heaven, -that will be strewn by little loved ones upon the path of saints as they -walk the streets of the New Jerusalem. - -It is not always the largest flowers which make the prettiest bouquet, or -adorn a drawing-room to the best advantage. The little bird’s-eye, that -grows among the thistles in the hedge-bottom, is prettier and more modest -than the large sunflower; so in like manner it is not always the big, -shining, dashing, flashing Christian, with few real good deeds, that is -the most beautiful and lovely in God’s sight. The little Sunday-school -scholar, with Jesus shining out of his actions, in a garret is the most -beautiful and lovely to look upon, and illumines a modest quiet corner -with the greatest effect. - -Bees gather honey from the most unassuming flowers, which are oftentimes -hid among thorns; so in like manner the sweetness of heaven is to be -gathered from good and lovely children, brought up by Christian parents, -living modestly and quietly in our back streets among the roughest and -lowest of the low, more prickly than thorns, and more poisonous than -poison. - -Those short-sighted beings engaged in trying to get virtue out of a -gin-palace will find it harder work than extracting honey out of a -putrifying dead dog. - -Double-faced Christians, engaged in trying to draw forth goodness out of -sin, wherewith to quench the qualms of conscience, will find that they -are engaged in a more difficult task than that of drawing pure spring -water from a cesspool. - -Words are leaves, prayers bloom, and deeds fruit. If the tree has grown -up under religious influence the kernel contains seeds of immortality, -but if reared under the influence of sin the kernel will be a rotten core -and worse than useless. - -To love and to sing is to live, and to hate and to swear is to die. - -Bad deeds, though often written and rewritten, soil the hands of the -scribe, corrupt his heart, taint the olfactory senses of the -reader—although they may be as angels—with an unpleasant odour, offend -their eyes, and become in the end illegible blotches, smudges, and -smears. - -Good deeds, performed with a good object, eat themselves clearly and -legibly into the pages of history, which time turns into gold, and leave -a pleasant impression upon the writers and readers—although they may be -devils—that time and men’s hands cannot efface. - -Those who write flashy, misleading lies of various hues, whether about -gipsy, saint, or angel, will find that they are earning red-hot coppers, -which “puffs” will not prevent burning the author’s fingers and -scratching his conscience. - -Worldly-minded human beings engaged in trying to weave a cloak of -righteousness out of their own evil deeds wherewith to hide their -deformities, ugliness, and consumption, may be compared to a poor old -deformed woman trying to weave a golden cloak out of rotten straw to hide -the wretchedness and misery of Seven Dials. - -Those engaged in reclaiming children from sin and ignorance are making -themselves a silver ladder upon which to climb to golden fame. - -When our ways are clouded by mysteries and doubts, we may take it for -granted that we have got off the road, and are wandering among marshes -and swamps from which fogs and poisonous vapours arise. - -Satan often ties firebrands to the tails of hypocritical professing -Christians, and uses them as Samson did his foxes. - - * * * * * - -At 6.30 on Tuesday morning I stepped out of doors with my travelling -paraphernalia upon some six-inches deep of newly fallen snow. My only -light was the flickering gas, which was miserable indeed. Underneath the -snowy carpet the roads felt, and in fact were, like a sheet of glass. If -the new soles upon my shoes had been beeswaxed and polished I could not -have slipped and slurred about more. Sometimes my bags were in the snow, -and at other times I was trying the resisting force of the lamp-posts. -Some of the workmen as they passed me rolled about as if they were -“tight,” and I daresay they thought me to be a brother chip. After -three-quarters of an hour’s exercise for patience, temper, and legs, I -arrived “safe and sound in wind and limb” in a third-class compartment, -and without any hot-water bottles to cheer my onward course. - -At Trent Station I spent five minutes with Mr. Taylor, the fine, -good-looking station-master, in talking over the caste, kind, and -character of the gipsies in India, in which country Mr. Taylor was a -station-master for some time. At Settle I pulled up for a cup of coffee -and a sandwich. The little refreshment-room, about ten feet square, was -quite a delightfully warm, cosy nook. The glasses and decanters of -variegated colours were sparkling, the fire was bright and cheerful, and -the waitress brimmed over with smiles, grace, and good-nature. I was -nearly frozen, and to jump from the freezing train to the warm sunny -“bar” at one bound was enough almost to make me wish that a coal truck -would get across the line to cause a delay for half-an-hour. It was not -to be, and the cruel porter bawled out, “Take your seats, gentlemen!” and -we were off to the snowy region of the North, where all things are not -forgot and sheep looked like rabbits. In puffing along we passed through -the snow-drifts, which two days previously had held bound by the icy hand -of winter eleven trains and their freights of “live and dead stock” for -twenty-four hours, bringing forth from the sympathetic wife of the -station-master hot tea, cakes, and coffee for the travellers. - -In passing over the Settle and Carlisle railway I experienced a very -queer kind of sensation. I was in the carriage alone. For many miles -nothing was to be seen but snow and telegraph posts. The fences were -covered, the sheep and cattle were housed, and, owing to the barren -nature of the soil, there were no trees to be seen peering their heads -upwards. A gloom, without a break or gleam of sunshine, spread over the -face of the heavens. The snow-covered hills and valleys looked like so -many white clouds, and appeared to be undulating as we passed through -them. Not a sound was to be heard except the puffing and punting of the -engine as we steamed away, and it appeared as if we were miles high -between two worlds, travelling I knew not whither. To make myself -believe that I was still in the land of the living and not among “the -dreary regions of the dead,” I paced my compartment pretty freely, -filling up my time by singing— - - “One there is above all others,” &c., - -and counting the telegraph posts as we glided along. Among other things, -as I walked to and fro in my solitary compartment, I jotted down some of -the following thoughts and aphorisms:— - -Faith is the quicksilver of heaven placed in the hearts of God’s -children. When it is low or weak, rains and storms are brewing, -difficulties are ahead; and when it is high and strong, then peace and -joy may be expected. Unsteady Christians will do well to change their -quarters. - -Every glass of intoxicating drink given by parents to their children may -have pleasure swimming upon the surface, but at the bottom there will be -dregs of groans, and cries that will be hurled back by the children with -vengeance and retorts upon the names and tombs of their parents as they -lie smouldering in their coffins. - -The benevolent actions of earth become at death the flowers of heaven. - -The heavenly influences of God’s children in life become at death the -fragrance of eternity. - -As the light-giving rays of the sun appear as darkness to mortals with -weak eyes and contracted vision, so in like manner do the searching and -light-giving rays of God’s Word appear as darkness to those whose mind -and mental powers have become weakened through looking into the lovely -system of heaven with narrow, preconceived ideas and notions. - -Tears are the dewdrops of sorrow; if of heavenly sorrow, they will be the -means, as they drop to the earth, of watering seeds that will produce a -crop of heavenly joy. - -In every cup of sorrow given to us by God to drink there are mixed up in -the ingredients fine precious seeds of a higher life, greater joy, and -abiding peace to bloom everlastingly in heaven. - -Those who dabble in sin stain their hands with indelible ink, which -nothing but grace can remove. - -Prayer is a pump-handle, and faith the rods and bucket that lift the -clear spring of heavenly truth into our earthly vessels to refresh us on -the way to Zion. - -Hot-tempered and fiery-tempered Christians often expose the nakedness of -their souls. - -Those people who think that they can go to heaven by indulging in worldly -pleasure and sin are travelling in a balloon of their own manufacture, -which may carry them high up in the opinion of worldlings, but in reality -they are soaring into the freezing atmosphere of God’s wrath, to come -down with a terrible crash. - -A man with a large heart, broad sympathy, but under the influence of a -short temper, often burns his fingers; while the man with a narrow soul -and an envious disposition has a fire within that will blister his tongue -and singe the hair off his head. - -Sacred poems and hymns are the million silver steps leading to the -heavenly city from every quarter of the globe; and the tunes set to them -are the lovely seraphs from the angel-land taking us by the hand to lead -us onward and upward to the golden doors studded with diamonds and other -precious stones, which are opened to all who have been sanctified and -made ready for the indescribable kingdom within. - -Death is the postman from the unknown land—except to those who have seen -it by the eye of faith—knocking at our door. - - * * * * * - -Once or twice we passed several men with shovels in their hands and -dressed in garbs that only required a very slight stretch of imagination -to make us believe that they were in the Arctic regions searching for the -bodies of Sir John Franklin and his noble crew. Suddenly we dropped upon -Carlisle, and for a few minutes we pulled ourselves together. As there -were no sandwiches to be got, I dined off a penny bun and a sour orange, -the rind of which, owing to my benumbed fingers, sorely tried my -patience, and in retaliation I set to it with my teeth in a most savage -manner, and cast the remnants to the wind to perish in the mud. - -We duly arrived at St. Boswell’s Station. I felt nearly “done up,” and -at this place I slipped, rolled, and tumbled into an hotel for a warm -rest and a feed. When it was dark I turned out again and made my way by -train to Kelso, the place of fame, and noted for its public spirit. As I -drew near to the town I could have said with Alfred Miles, in _Young -England_, 1880— - - “Louder blew the winds and fiercer, - The night was drawing nigh.” - -From the station to the town was a most miserable half-hour’s journey. -The snow was in heaps, and travellers had to clutch the arms of friends -or foes to enable them to “steer a steady course.” The snow whistled and -squeaked under the pressure of the soles of my feet; for by this time I -did not seem to have any other soul. Sometimes I seemed to take one step -forward to two backward, till at last a ’busman picked me up and set me -down within a hundred yards of the Temperance Hotel door—Mr. -Slight’s—which was the nearest he could get me to without risk to life -and limb, owing to the great depth of snow. I felt faint, and the full -force of what Marianne Farningham says in the _Christian World_— - - “O God, the way is very long, - And the storms are rough and wild.” - -Men working in snow, in the blackness of night, beneath the dull, -flickering lamps, and with a heavy, foggy atmosphere overhead, present a -most curious and interesting spectacle, such as might call forth from -nervous, sensitive minds a thousand ghostly wild conjectures about -gipsies, witches, &c. - -During the evening “mine host” invited me, with some three commercial -travellers, to a little family party he was having, numbering altogether -some six gentlemen and eight young ladies. - -Of the gentlemen I will say nothing except that they were very -gentlemanly; but of the young ladies I will say that they were of the -usual agreeable mixture. One was charming, another sweet, another was -lively, another was delightful, another was pretty, another was pleasant, -another was full of grace, and so on. Of course, each had her own -peculiar special graces, figure, and colour of hair. Singing, playing, -lively and interesting conversation whiled the evening hours away. -Notwithstanding these enchanting proceedings, I did not feel happy. I -tried hard to put a smile upon my face, but imagined I was not -successful, for the company often had to try to “liven me up.” The -trials and hardships of the day, and my work on the morrow, weighted me -heavily with anxiety and sorrow. - -I retired to my chamber pensive, sad, and cold. My bed was like ice, and -all the clothes, rugs, &c., I had would not make me warm. The night was -shiveringly cold, and my heart ached for the poor gipsies out in the -snow. I dozed, winked, and blinked. I got out of bed again and again; -and, to while away the long hours of the night, I jotted some of the -following aphorisms down, by the side of the dying embers of a _little_ -fire:— - -Sunday-schools are God’s flower-beds, upon which He sends more gleams of -sunshine and spring showers than upon the rest of the world. Some -Sunday-school children are the little roses, pinks, mignonette, &c. -There are other Sunday-school children very modest and very good, but -with little show; these are the thyme, ladslove, &c. The naughty -children are the sour and poisonous weeds. - -When a Christian leaves the prospect hill for the marshes and swamps of -despondency and gloom, he will soon discover—or ought to do—that he is in -the neighbourhood of hellish fogs and mists, which will lead him into -worse than the Roman’s “shepherd’s race,” maze, or labyrinth, and from -thence to gloomy thoughts and hazy notions of God and His works. - -Infidels are the rats of society, puddling and muddling the rippling -streams of pure truth that run through our land. - -Cold places of worship, with a shivering minister as doorkeeper, are the -places to turn warm Christians into freezing saints. - -A drunken Christian minister is a toppled-over guide-post with the bottom -rotted off, owing to its having being set in too much water. - -Hope is the second—love the first—greatest moral force in the world. -When a man is down in the gutter it lifts him up; when he is in darkness -it puts light in his face and fire in his eyes. It enters the breast of -a child; it fills the heart, and is seen in every action of man; it is in -the soul of kings, governs empires, and rules destinies; and it lifts -human beings, populating all worlds, from earth and hell to heaven. Oh! -bliss-inspiring hope! - -Hope is the father of ambition and the earthly companion of the soul; -they join together till they come to the edge of the river, whence the -soul takes its flight into eternity, and hope becomes the life of the -fame left behind, and ends with fame’s death. - -Despair is the wastrel daughter of ambition forsaken by her father, and -her mother, hope and pride. She drags all who touch her to poverty, -ruin, degradation, misery, and death. When she creeps do you run. - -Elevating natural parental love buds in time and blooms through eternity. -It turns a mud cottage or gipsy wigwam into a palace, a desert into a -garden, a waste into an earthly paradise. It causes the birds and -variegated songsters to chirp and sing round your dwelling, the trees to -laugh, the stones to shout, the cat to purr upon the hearth, and the -children to kiss and fondle upon your knees. It sends whole families -where love dwells off to bed in good humour, and causes the cock to crow -early in the morning at your door, telling you that a DIVINER LOVE is -about to enter your family circle with a fragrance excelling that of the -rose, and its effects more lovely to behold than that of the lily. - -The soil of earth is the brain of nature. - -Children with good hearts and lovable dispositions, under the fostering -care of a good, kind, Christian mother, will become God’s pretty little -singing birds, to beautify and enliven His heavenly garden; while -naughty, disobedient, bad children will become worse than rotten eggs, -not even fit for manure. - -As bells are placed upon the necks of leading wether sheep to give out a -sound of danger and guidance, so in like manner is the word of God placed -upon the necks of His ministers, to give out words of consolation, -counsel, reproof, and warning, and woe be to those who give out an -uncertain sound. - -Gipsies, vagrants, tramps, and vagabonds are the corns and bunions of -society. - -Every kind, benevolent act of a Christian, full of love to God and man, -is a cask of heavenly oil poured upon the troubled waters of life, and -those who go down deep into human misery will find, by looking upward, as -the oil of paradise swims upon the waves of woe, the beautiful light of -heaven reflected upon their every movement to raise fallen humanity. - -The love of God in the heart of man produces a smoothness upon the -surface of his face and body that eases his way to heaven through the -chilling billows of selfishness, deceit, and fraud. - -A cruel retort from an ungrateful son opens a parent’s eyes to his sins -and follies more than the advice of one hundred friends. - -To mount the highest hill of God’s favour upon the alternate steps of -prayer and good works, with faith as a handrail, is to see the -indescribable beauties of heaven and the unsurpassed splendour of earth -as no other mortal can; and by climbing higher still we can see more and -more, till we find ourselves lost in love and wonder. - -The transparent dewdrops of heaven to be seen, by the light of the bright -morning sun, resting and twinkling into rainbow colours upon the flowers -and blades of grass on the green, mossy carpet, are the lively, sweet, -innocent little children whom God sends to cheer and beautify our path -for awhile before He calls them to heaven by the absorbing rays of Divine -love. - -To a good man dark moments are the harbingers of bright days, and to a -bad man light moments of excitement are the precursors of long, dark days -of sorrow. - -Love is the greatest moral force in the world. With the birth of a child -it has a beginning, and it is the right hand companion of the soul; and -with the death of the body it is transferred with its redeemed chief to -paradise, to be the singing, joyful companion of the soul through endless -ages and never-ending delights and pleasures. - -Divine love is the celestial life of heaven dwelling in man’s breast, -purifying his heart, enlivening his soul, transforming his affection to -such an extent that he can sing in the midst of a burning, sandy, -waterless, parching desert, “Oh! that will be joyful.” It transforms the -black demon face of a gipsy, or a child of hell, into the lovable, -smiling face of a child of God. Its possessor can jump ditches, bound -over fences, and scale battlements as easily as if they were level green, -mossy carpets. It makes life happy, and opens heaven to our view. - - * * * * * - -After I had passed through this ordeal, I tried pacing the room with no -better results. Notwithstanding these things, I felt as the Rev. Richard -Wilton felt when he penned the following lines for _Hand and Heart_, -June, 1880: - - “Sufferings are gifts, accept for my sake, - And from earth’s sighs heaven’s music shall wake.” - -Morning dawned and found me with wakeful eyes ready to receive it. After -breakfast I began to prepare for my journey through deep snow which had -fallen evenly upon the ground to the height of the stone walls. I found -that the postman with his cart had begun to prepare for the journey, and -he calculated that if all were straight it would take him five hours to -“do the eight miles.” “Mine host” would not consent to this arrangement, -and the next best thing was to hire a horse and trap. So through the -deep snow we started. I had not got very far before my muffler was -frozen and icicles hung round my beard like little diamonds. A few carts -and waggons had been pulled over the snow in places by the farmers, and -had left a few tracks. Notwithstanding these our old hunter was not long -before he began to “puff and blow.” My gigman said, “I don’t know -whether we shall be able to get through to Yetholm, but we will go as far -as we can. We can but turn back if we can get no further.” - -Our steed did not require pulling up to stop him. Of his own instinct he -stopped pretty frequently. I said to the man, “Our horse seems to be -short of ‘puff.’” “Yes,” said the gigman; “his wind is touched a little, -but nothing to hurt. He will be all right if we can once pull through.” -Sometimes we went into the ditches. How deep they were before the snow -fell I don’t know. I should think some of them were pretty deep. Thanks -to the Almighty, the bottom of our gig would not let us topple over. -Many times I began to wonder where we should find a resting-place for the -night. I said to my gigman as we went ploughing through the snow in one -of the ditches, “In case we get stuck fast, what shall we do next?” -“Well,” said the gigman, “we shall have to leave the trap behind and -return to Kelso as best we can. We shall both have to get upon the -horse’s back, and if he will not carry us we must take turn and turn -about. It won’t do to stop on the road to perish.” I began to “pump” my -gigman in order to know whether I was in the hands of one who understood -his business. I wanted my fears settling upon this point. - -I said, “How long have you been a coachman?” “Between twenty and thirty -years,” he said. “And have you ever had a ‘spill’ or been stuck fast?” -“I have only had one ‘pitch in’ and never a ‘spill.’” This news gave me -confidence in my man, and on we kept ploughing away. A strong contrast -presented itself to our view close to a cottage just off the roadside. -There was a fine dark woman with a bright scarlet hood and cloak on her -big body, doing something upon one of the hedges. It struck me that she -was bird-liming, for the London markets, the poor linnets that choose to -be caged rather than to perish. - -The sights along the road were most lively, and I shall never forget it -as long as the breath is in my body. The excitement “on the road,” the -bubbling sympathy within my breast for the poor perishing rabbits, hares, -partridges, and crows upon our path, the dangers of the way, and the -magnificent grandeur of the scenery, were of such a nature as to cause me -to forget the biting cold at work benumbing my nose, fingers, and toes. -The Scotch firs in the dales and vales along our path and on the -hillsides never appeared more grand and beautiful. They were -artistically touched by the hand of God. The pure white lovely prismatic -children of the clouds and cold boundless space had descended softly from -heaven, as if loth to leave their pure abode for a resting-place in the -mud; but before doing so they appeared anxious to adorn the trees of -nature with the beauties of ethereal space, and in such a manner as to -cause one’s heart to glow with gratitude towards God, the Giver of all -good. The boughs were bent downwards, heavily laden with the angelic -snowflakes; the whole trees presenting a spiral sight, leading your eyes -and mind upwards toward heaven. At the extreme tips of the branches the -snow had formed a kind of white clapperless bells. As I passed under the -heavily-laden trees I felt that I should like to have helped them to bear -their burden, and also to keep the prismatic children of the clouds and -infinitude from settling into their dirty resting-places. Nature seemed -to speak through the beautiful snow-adorned trees, and wintry-capped -hills and covered valleys with a warm loving tenderness that I had never -experienced before. - -Upon the fences the snow had come softly and stealthily down, apparently -as if in gentle wavelets, which presented the appearance of fold upon -fold, overhanging waves upon waves in beautiful round and soft designs; -and as I beheld it I felt for a few minutes that it would be a real -pleasure, with joy and gladness running through my bones, and smiles -forcing themselves upon my face, to roll, plunge, tumble, and fluster -under its overhanging laps and waved folds, which seemed to speak -invitingly, and with open arms, to those who cast a sympathetic glance at -them. Never in this world did snow appear more to be like the downs of -heaven than upon this occasion, notwithstanding the _biting_ cold day. -On this journey the live things seemed to be dying, while the dead things -seemed to be living. - -We had now been on the road ploughing away over two hours among the snow, -and still we were not at the end of our journey. We had had many escapes -of a spill, with the consolation that we should not have been hurt, -except in case the iron heels of our beast had come sharply in contact -with our almost frost-bitten noses. As we topped the hills and neared -Yetholm it was manifest that the rude hand of storm and tempest had been -busily at work among the trees at some not very remote period. Hundreds -had been uprooted, some of which were left to tell the tale. Not a -public-house was to be seen on the way. There was a kind of cabin a -little off the roadside, on which was stuck a piece of board, showing -that tea, tobacco, coffee, and snuff were sold there. Among the hills in -the distance Yetholm was observed. The thought that had run freely -through my mind, that I might not reach Yetholm, had now vanished. - -The veritable gipsy town was in sight, and our steed pricked up his ears -and quickened his pace. The blood which had imperceptibly been freezing -in my veins seemed to glow again. The use of my hands and feet seemed to -be coming round, and into a public-house I stumbled at half past one to -get a cup of tea, “a cheer up,” and thorough warming. After which I set -out with my bag in one hand loaded with Testaments, supplied to me by a -friend and the Christian Knowledge Society; picture cards, supplied to me -by the Religious Tract Society; and _Our Boys and Girls_, supplied to me -by the Wesleyan Sunday-School Union; while in the other hand I carried a -quantity of oranges and tobacco, purchased from Mr. Laidlaw’s, a -tradesman in the place. With this “stock-in-trade” for the big and -little gipsies at Kirk Yetholm I started my tramp. - -The nestling and nuzzling of the gipsy hypocrites beneath the walls of -the church at Kirk Yetholm, when they first landed in this country and -for centuries onward, is only in accord with their first appearance in -many parts of England. There can be no doubt that when the gipsies came -from the Continent they came as hypocritical, religious, popish pilgrims, -and succeeded well for a time in inveigling themselves into the good -graces and pockets of the well-to-do English men and women, so that many -of them were able to dress in scarlet and gold till they were found out, -as I have shown elsewhere. - -Kirk Yetholm, the gipsy town, is about half a mile from Town Yetholm. - - [Picture: Gipsy Winter quarters, Yetholm] - -By the time I had arrived at the gipsy quarters, owing to my loads, the -deep snow, and the slippery nature of the roads in some places, I was -ready for a rest. - -At the entrance to the village I met a number of little half-starved, -dirty, ragged gipsy children, who, to say the least, would require a deal -of “straightening up” before they were ready for angelic robes. One -little fellow with fine lips, but a mouth almost extending from ear to -ear, accosted me in such a manner as to satisfy me that I was, without -doubt, in the land of gipsydom. With the exception of the fine old -church and one or two houses, the whole presented a miserable appearance. -The gipsy dwellings were one story high, and of a dirty dingy white. - -Leydon’s opinion of the Yetholm gipsies in his day was not very high, for -he says— - - “On Yeta’s banks the vagrant gipsies place - Their turf-built cots. A sunburnt swarthy race, - From Nubian realms their tawny line they bring, - And their brown chieftain vaunts the name of king. - With loitering steps from town to town they pass, - Their lazy dames rock’d on the panier’d ass, - From pilfer’d roots or nauseous carrion fed, - By hedgerows green they strew their leafy bed; - While scarce the cloak of tawdry red conceals - The fine-turned limbs which every breeze reveals. - Their bright black eyes through silken lashes shine, - Around their necks their raven tresses twine; - But chilling damps and dews of night impair - Its soft sleek gloss and tan the bosom bare. - Adroit the lines of palmistry to trace, - Her horded silver store they charm away, - A pleasing debt for promised wealth to pay.” - -Slater says in his Directory for 1882 that “Town Yetholm and Kirk Yetholm -are both very humble in appearance, especially the latter, which is -chiefly inhabited by gipsies, a race formerly remarkable for their -disorderly lives and dangerous characters, and at this day distinguished -by peculiarity of habits from the general body of the community.” - -Dr. Baird says in his “Memoir of the Rev. John Baird,” written some -twenty years ago, “A colony of gipsies which had long been settled at -Kirk Yetholm had given rather an unenviable notoriety to the village, and -rendered its name familiar to thousands in Scotland. The great majority -of this wandering race were little better than heathens though born in a -Christian land, and were notorious for poaching, thieving, and -blackguardism.” - -Most of the gipsy dwellings belong to a friend, the Marquis of Tweeddale, -and he has of late years taken steps to improve their appearance. At the -present time I am told the gipsy dwellings, so far as the outsides are -concerned, show a great improvement. Sad to relate, the gipsy tenants -have not improved one jot. Landlords may make gipsies’ and labourers’ -houses—and it is right they should—healthy and habitable, but estate -agents cannot purify the moral iniquity that dwells within. The -schoolmaster, law, and the gospel are the agents for this reforming work. - -I was told by Mr. Laidlaw that a gipsy named Mathew Blythe was the most -respectable gipsy in Yetholm, and would give me any information; so to -Mathew I made my way. I knocked at his door and was met with a -shout—“Come in.” I did not stand knocking twice after this invitation, -and went through the dingy, greasy passage—or “entrance hall”—to another -door, which I opened, and there found a round-faced, grey-haired, -good-looking, cobbling gipsy at work upon his “last.” The room seemed to -serve for kitchen, scullery, parlour, dining-room, sitting-room, bedroom, -closet, and workshop. For a minute or two he eyed me over from head to -foot before asking me to sit down on a rickety old chair that stood by my -side. I told him that I was come to look up the gipsies at Yetholm. I -was met with a gruff reply, “There are no gipsies at Yetholm; they are -all gone away, and I don’t know where they are gone to.” I said, “I am -sorry for that, as I had brought some books, oranges, tobacco, pictures, -and coppers for them.” And after a few words in Romany the old man -turned up his face with a smile and said, “Well, to speak the truth, I am -a gipsy, but my old woman is not. Sit you down.” I sat down and began -my tale, and told him who I was and all about the object of my visit. At -this the old man opened his eyes wider and wider and said, “Lord, bless -you, me and my brother, who lives at Town Yetholm, were only talking -about you yesterday, and saying how glad we should be to see you. Let’s -shake hands.” He took hold of my hand and gave it a good grip and a -squeeze, one that I shall not soon forget. I said, “I suppose you wanted -to see me in order to give me a ‘good tanning,’ or else to make the place -warm for me; for I have been told by a backwood gipsy writer at — that -the gipsies in Scotland would make it hot for me if they once got hold of -me; and this is one, among the many other reasons, why I am here to-day.” -“Those,” said Mr. Blythe, “who told you that tale told you a lie. I -don’t know any gipsy who would hurt your little finger. You have said -some hard things about us, but they are true, or nearly so. Why should -not our children be educated like other people’s children? Why should -gipsy children not be allowed to sit on the same bench with the rest? -They are the same flesh and blood, and God looks upon them the same as He -does upon other children. In church and in school no one will come near -to us, and what is the result? Why, there is not a gipsy in all the -place—and there are between one and two hundred—except myself who goes to -church on Sundays. The gipsies in Yetholm are worse off to-day than they -ever were. Some are in receipt of parish relief.” This upsets the -romantic tales of the gipsy writers who maintain that gipsies never -receive parish relief. “A few of the children can read and write, but -that is all. I learned to read and write a many years, thank God, and I -also learnt to make and mend shoes.” I said, “What do the gipsies do and -where do they wander, as they grow up?” “They,” said Mr. Blythe, -“generally goes to town, or travels the country, and nobody knows where -they end their days.” Mr. Blythe was some distant—“ninety-second -cousin”—relation to the notorious dare-devil gipsy, Will Faa, who claimed -to be a sort of a gipsy king, and on this account I wanted to have a few -words about the gipsy kings of Scotland. “Well,” said Mr. Blythe, “you -know better than I can tell you that there are no such beings as gipsy -kings and queens. It is all bosh and nonsense, conjured up to get money -on the cheap. The woman they call the gipsy queen does not live at -Yetholm now, she has gone to live at Kelso. I could not tell you -whereabouts she lives, but in some of the back streets.” - -Mr. Blythe began to relate some of the gipsy tales; and how many kings’ -lives the gipsies had saved, and a number of other things relating to -gipsy life, into which I had not time to enter, as I wanted to be on the -road again with my gigman before it was dark. The old man’s crippled -foot prevented him making some visits with me to the other gipsies in the -village, or, as he said, “I should have been only too glad to have done -so. The poor things want somebody looking after them, I can assure you.” -I emptied nearly the whole of the contents of my bags of books, pictures, -tobacco, oranges, and a few coppers upon the gipsy cobbler’s bench, among -the awls, nails, waxed-ends, &c., for him to distribute, as a _man_, -among the gipsy children and old women in the village; and as a _man_, -and with gipsy greetings and good wishes, trusting to Mr. Blythe’s -honour, I left them, and they have, with God’s blessing, no doubt been -distributed. After a few words of cheer and consolation and several -shakes of the hands, which somehow brought out my weakness in tears, I -bade Mr. Blythe, the grey-haired, open-faced gipsy, “good-bye,” maybe -never to meet again on this side of Jordan. I felt as I stepped out of -the door that I could have said with a blind writer in the _Church of -England Magazine_— - - “Though dark and dreary be my way, - Thy light can turn my night to day.” - - “Pensive I tread my sad and lonely road, - Pain, gloom, and sorrow marked me for their prey.” - -I took a stroll through the place to eye the gipsy dwellings over, and by -the time I had got to the bridge homeward, a number of poor half-starved -gipsy children had gathered round me. I had not gone far before I met -some bigger gipsies “working _home_” for the night. I thought I would -have five minutes’ chat in the snow with a little old gipsy woman named -Sanderson, who had accosted me in the usual gipsy fashion, viz., a curtsy -and “Your honour, sir.” I pulled up and deposited my bags in the snow. -At this the old woman began to smile; she no doubt thought that she had -succeeded in her first step to draw something from me. She was not long -in perceiving that I was not a Scotchman, and took pains to tell me her -name, and that she was an English gipsy from the neighbourhood of -Newcastle. It occurred to me that I would just for once try the old -woman’s volubility of thanks, and accordingly I dipped into my bag for an -orange; this brought the old woman almost upon her knees with a “Thank -yer honour;” each “thanks” was accompanied by low curtsies. I next -pulled out a picture card; this she put to her breast and said, “Lord -bless yer honour.” I gave her another card, for which she responded with -upturned eyes, “May the Lord bless you, my dear good gentleman.” I next -gave her some coppers; she again turned up her eyes toward heaven and -said with a smile, “May you never want a friend in the world.” I next -gave her some tobacco, to which she responded, “May the dear Lord thank -you a thousand times.” I ran through all the varieties I had, without -exhausting her stock of thanks. I began to think that I must “give it -up.” I believe Nisbets, Sunday School Union, Hodder and Stoughton, -Partridge, Religious Tract Society, Christian Knowledge Society, and all -the wide world-known first class publishing houses in Paternoster Row—and -over London there are many of them—would not produce variety of picture -books enough to exhaust the different kind of thanks the old gipsy woman -had in store; at any rate she would have a curtsy for the last and one to -spare for the next gift. I had a Testament in my bag, and as a last -present I thought I would give it to her. The old woman took it out of -my hand as a hungry starving child takes a piece of bread, with more -eagerness than she had shown over either the money or the tobacco, and -clasped it to her breast and called out with tears in her eyes in an -attitude of prayer, “May the dear Lord Jesus bless you, my dear good -gentleman, so long as you shall live, and may you never want a friend.” -Tears and curtsies came again pretty freely, I shook hands with the old -gipsy, and we parted. The rimy moisture on my spectacles, and the -hastiness of my movements prevented me testing the old gipsy woman’s -tears, to see whether they were genuine or not. I rather think they -were; at any rate it is more pleasant to human nature to have smiles than -frowns, even if they come from the devil. - -I jumped into the trap, put on a warm muffler, and jolted and jogged for -some two hours to my lodgings, passing some gipsy poachers on the way, -and watching the growing moon in the heavens facing me, which seemed to -speak words of consolation showing unmistakably that all was not darkness -in the temporary Arctic cold regions in the world of gipsydom. - -In Kelso I found out that one of the _princes_ of gipsydom had been in -jail nearly a score of times; in fact, one of the magistrates told me -that he himself had sent one of the gipsy vagabonds to jail something -like half a dozen times during the last two years. As a rule, when his -“_highness_” was not in jail, he was employed scraping the streets, -scavenging, or getting a penny in other ways. In the train I was told -that one of the _queens_ of gipsydom indulged in language which would not -be a sufficient passport to heaven, and was at the present time to -outside observers a poor, miserable old woman, with one foot in the -grave, a standing lie to the advantages, blessings, and beauties of an -uncivilized, demoralizing, wandering vagabond’s life. - - [Picture: Esther Faa Blythe—a Scotch gipsy queen] - -A portrait of one of the self-crowned Scottish gipsy queens, Esther Faa -Blythe, is here given. The old woman is eighty-five years of age, and -has an eye to business. She is sharp, and can adapt herself to all -circumstances. With the saints she becomes heavenly, and so on, almost -through the whole of the lights, shades, and phases of social life. - -There are numbers of “gipsy kings” and “queens” in the country—aye, -almost in every county; at any rate those who are simple enough to -believe in them say so. One gipsy queen not long ago used to dress in -dashing, gaudy silks, and sit in “a chair of state” in her van, and the -Londoners paid their threepennies to see her from time to time. She now -lives a “retired life,” upon her gains, at Maidenhead. - -The best gipsy queen I know of is the good Christian woman, Mrs. -Simpson—formerly a Lee—at Notting Hill, who has become a devoted, good -Christian woman, and tries to do all the good she can as she passes up -and down the world. Her Bible contains her “state records,” which are -the guide of her life. For twenty years she did a “roaring trade” by -telling fortunes to simpletons and big babies out of the -Bible—upside-down at times—of which she could not tell a letter. Since -she has been a _gipsy Christian queen_ she has learnt to read some parts -of the blessed book. My plan, if followed out thoroughly in all its -details, will make all our gipsies “kings” and “queens.” It is -surprising that there are people in the world silly enough even at this -late day to believe in such beings as the “gipsy kings” and “queens” of -backwood romance. - -To come back to Yetholm. The aches, pains, and wild visions of the night -carried me almost over the wide, wide world, and had it not been for the -power of Divine love and the rays of heavenly light I cannot tell where I -might have got to ere this. - - “The rougher the way, the shorter the stay,” - -said Wesley. I paid my bill, and started homeward, and at St. Boswell’s -station I made the acquaintance of Thomas Webster, Esq., and his two -sweet, interesting little sons, Masters Thomas Scott Cliff and Harold -Colin, of Oxenden Towers, Dunse. In the train we sat together, and -chatted and whiled away time almost imperceptibly for several hours as we -journeyed southward. At Hillfield we separated. He and his sons -travelled westward, and I kept speeding along southward and homeward, I -think a wiser man; certainly I know more of the gipsies in Scotland and -at Yetholm than I ever knew before. I find, among other things, that -there are a number of gipsies living among the rocks on the northern -coasts of Scotland, more like wild animals than human beings, and as -shaggy as winter-coated goats. - -My visit to Yetholm brought out the fact more vividly to my mind than -ever, that private flickering and fluttering missionary enterprise, apart -from compulsory education, sanitation, and proper Government supervision, -is powerless, and unable to reclaim our gipsies and their children from -heathendom and its black midnight surroundings; and this I have stated -all along in my letters, Congress papers, articles in the _Graphic_ and -_Wesleyan Methodist Magazine_, and in my “Gipsy Life,” &c. The case of -the poor brickyard girls and boys and canal children proves this in an -unmistakable manner beyond all doubt; at any rate, to those who have -their eyes and ears open, and hearts and hands ready to help forward the -country’s welfare. {329} - -Some fifty years ago the Rev. John Baird, a godly minister at Yetholm, -and a few warm hearted friends, commenced in right good earnest to reform -the gipsies at Yetholm. A committee was formed, several hundreds of -pounds were collected, steps taken to get the gipsy children to school, -and for some years they issued encouraging reports concerning the -gipsies. Plenty of proofs were forthcoming to show that the gipsy -children could be made meet for heaven by the application of the laws of -education, sanitation, and the gospel; they were, as a rule, as well -conducted in school and church as other labouring-class children. In -course of time the missionary zeal of the committee began to flag, and -Mr. Baird handed them over to the magistrates, and he goes on to say: -“Take the more respectable individual, and let him follow the occupation -of the gipsy, and in a few years he will in all probability be as bad as -any of them. It is almost folly and ignorance to say that a wandering -gipsy may be a respectable character. The thing seems to be possible -and, theoretically, not improbable; but practically the wandering gipsy -is almost without exception a disreputable person. His wandering life -leads to innumerable evils. In kindness to themselves, therefore, their -occupation, were it even a useful one to society, should be put down; but -it is not only useless, but positively injurious to themselves and -others. Their life is one of petty crime; their death involved in all -the gloom of ignorance and despair.” - -What are the results to-day of the years of toil and the hundreds of -pounds which have been spent upon the gipsy children at Yetholm? Only -one gipsy is to be found going to church on Sundays. And whose fault is -it? Certainly not the gipsy children’s, nor yet that of Mr. Baird and -his friends, but that of the State and the country. Mr. Baird gave proof -that education had made some gipsy children into useful servants and good -citizens; and why not more? Would to God that our noble Queen, our -statesmen, and our philanthropists would listen to the gipsy children’s -cry which has been going upward to heaven from our doors during the last -three hundred and sixty-eight years, and is still unheard and unheeded by -the Christians of England. Their tears, instead of softening our hearts, -have turned them into icicles, sneers, and frozen sympathies, and the -devilish, sensual gipsy novelists have transformed the bright lively -looks of the girls into wicked designs and immoral purposes. Every -retarding act and backward movement of those who would keep the poor -gipsy children in ignorance will be a thorn in their pillow at the close -of life, as the crest of the eternal wave appears in view with savage, -bewildering reality. It is a serious thing to drag women and children -downhill, and it is one that will not be banished by the artistic touches -of dark, sensual, misleading gipsy romance, however finely drawn and -dexterously spun. - -The Yetholm gipsies, living, roosting, and nestling in their degrading, -demoralizing, and squalid manner, have, during the last three centuries, -from beneath the shadow of the sacred parish church and within the sound -of its heavenly chimes, sent forth into England, Scotland, and the world -over two thousand dark missionaries, trained in all the crimes of sin and -wrong-doing, to spread misery and moral and eternal death on every hand, -without our ever putting out our hands as a nation to arrest or sweeten -the stream of iniquity which has been floating by our doors for so long. -Good Lord, wake us all up from our sleep of moral death into which we are -falling, bound hand and foot by selfish interests—money, greed, sensual -pleasures, and fascinating delights. - -Gipsying in this country comes up before us in various forms, enough to -send a cold, thrilling shudder through one’s nature. A friend whom I -know well, in Leicester, told me only the other day that one of her -distant relations at Greetham, in Rutlandshire, had SOLD, some year or so -ago, his dark-eyed and dark-haired pretty girl of about twelve summers to -a gang of gipsies for TWO SHILLINGS AND SIXPENCE AND A GALLON OF BEER, -and the poor lost creature is now tramping and travelling the country, no -one knows where. This poor girl’s mother is living in comfortable -service in Leicester. One can hardly imagine a husband and wife, father -and mother, so utterly lost to all natural feeling as to sell their child -for half a crown; but so it is, and no doubt she is making money for the -gipsy scoundrels and inhuman brutes. My heart often bleeds for the -little lost gipsy girl, concerning whom slap-dash gipsy song-writers can -call forth thrills of momentary pleasurable excitement from sensual gipsy -admirers as they pass round the “loving cup.” - -I often wonder what kind of song it is the poor child’s inhuman mother -sings to while away the pleasurable duties of her station and the silent -hours of the night; and while her offspring lies like a dog crouched on a -heap of straw, half starved, dressed in rags, filth, and vermin, in some -tent at the bottom of some dark lane by the side of a wood, listening -with wide-open eyes to the screeching of game and weazels, the howling of -the wind, and the beating of the hail and rain against her thin midnight -shelter from stormy blasts. - -While in Scotland a friend told me that recently he was in a -hairdresser’s shop, and while he was undergoing shampooing and a scenting -process, a poor, half-frozen, half-naked, Scotch gipsy girl, with -dishevelled hair, came, with a small tin can in her hand, begging with -tears in her eyes for some hot water. My friend was struck with the poor -gipsy girl’s sorrowful, soul-mourning condition and request, and he asked -her what she wanted the hot water for. “Please, my good gentleman,” said -the girl, tremblingly, “my mother’s hair is frozen to the ground, and I -want a little hot water to loosen it with. Mother can’t get up till it -is loosened, and there is no one else in the tent to fetch the water and -to get her up but me, sir.” What a tale of sorrow did the poor child -relate. How sadly true is this of the gipsies and show people, and other -travelling children all over our highly favoured and heavenly exalted -country to-day. Our gipsies, by their own wrong-doings, lying, thieving, -poaching, cheating, fortune-telling, idleness, profanity, -sabbath-breaking, and other deadly sins, have bound themselves to the -ground under our eyes, and we have stood by with our hands in our -pockets, winking, blinking, and chuckling at their heartrending -condition. Some thirty thousand gipsy children have, for the last three -hundred and fifty years, received from door to door cuffs, kicks, crumbs, -crusts, smiles, curses, and flattery, but have never, except in a -flickering way, had extended to them the hand of practical help and -sympathy. They have lived on our commons, in our lanes, by the side of -our woods, in our dark, black alleys, in our prisons and workhouses. The -little seedlings of hope that God has planted in the breasts of the poor -gipsy children, we have, instead of encouraging them, trampled upon, and -the little tender buds and blades as they peeped forth we have trodden -down. - -The children are lying and dying in the mud, with none to deliver. As a -result of our negligence and indifference to the wants of the poor gipsy -child, we shall some day have a crop of thistles, hard, sharp, and -strong, difficult to handle and more difficult to uproot, think about it -lightly as we may. The cries of the gipsy children have filled the -earth, and reached heaven for help; but we have barred the school doors -against them, and locked in their faces the gates through which they -should have been led to health, prosperity, civilization, Christianity, -and heaven. Gipsy women’s wails and gipsy children’s cries are going -upward and upward; and to-day the gipsy, show, and canal children are at -our doors dressed in rags and dirt, with matted hair, and tears in their -eyes, beseeching us to take them into our embraces and soul-saving -institutions, to lead them heavenward and to God, and still we refuse to -listen to their entreaties. Shall we refuse to do so any longer? God -grant that there may be a speedy breaking of bars, bolts, and locks that -have bound our gipsies, show people, and their children to their debasing -customs, and that our noble Queen, Senators, and Lawgivers may open the -doors of the blessed institutions with which our seagirt isle is covered -to our gipsies and their children without one moment’s delay, before our -candlestick is removed and glory departed. - -The Englishmen of our England of to-day have it within their power to -show to the world how to improve the condition of the gipsy and canal -children as no other nation has ever had before, without trampling under -foot liberty and civil rights. Shall we with folded hands stand by with -the blood of the canal and gipsy children hanging upon our garments, with -awful effect, while the lambs of Christ’s flock are groping their way to -misery, ruin, and woe? Shall we put out our hand to save the children? -It is for my countrymen to answer “Yes” or “No.” - -I asked my friend John Harris, the Cornish poet, to kindly help on the -cause of the gipsy children, and right gladly he did it; and here is his -touching poem. May it sink deep into our hearts! - - - -ZUTILLA. - - - “THE day is done, Zutilla, - And yonder shines a star; - Our camp is on the moorlands, - From busy homes afar. - No church bells murmur near us, - No echoes from the town, - And o’er the lonely common - The night comes slowly down. - - “Zutilla, thou art dying! - Once by the riverside - Our tents stood in the sunshine - Upon the wasteland wide. - Then thou wert but a baby, - So beautiful and bright; - I kissed thee in my gladness, - And wept with fond delight. - - “Came from the leafy hollow, - A man with hoary hair; - His voice was soft as summer - When lilies scent the air: - This Book he gave, Zutilla, - Against our hour of need, - Which surely is the present; - But oh! we cannot read. - - “How pale thou art, Zutilla! - I fear thy hour is come. - Is there a God of mercy? - And will He take thee home? - This Book might tell us plainly - Now in our hour of need, - Not having any teacher: - But oh! we cannot read. - - “Gone, gone art thou, Zutilla! - My tears shall flow for thee, - A gipsy’s darling daughter, - The sun and moon to me. - Thy mother’s heart is breaking, - ’Tis well it thus should bleed; - For nothing gives me comfort, - Now in my hour of need. - - “I know not how to utter - One word of prayer to Him! - Will no one teach the gipsy, - Whose life and death are dim? - Come, come to us, ye upright, - Who walk this favoured sod, - And teach us from your Bible, - And tell us of your God. - - “Yes, I am old and feeble, - And sinks life’s flickering spark. - Oh! thousands of my people - Are dying in the dark! - The gipsy children perish, - Like mine, before my eyes: - O come, O come, and teach us - The passage to the skies! - - “My wakeful eyes are burning, - My soul is rocked with dread: - O England, rouse thee! rouse thee! - And hasten to the dead. - If thou wilt do thy duty, - Another light shall gleam - Upon the gipsy’s tent-tops - Our fathers have not seen.” - -God (_Doovel_) bless (_párik_) the (_o_) brickfield (_chikino-tan_), boat -(_paanéngro_), and (_Ta_) gipsy women (_joóvyaw_) and (_Ta_) children -(_chaviés_), and (_Ta_) may (_Te_) their (_lénti_) tears (_tchingar_) be -(_vel_) noticed (_lel-veéna_) and (_Ta_) help (_kair-posh_) come (_avél_) -from (_avrí_) heaven (_mi-dúvelsko_) and (_Ta_) my (_meéro_) country -(_tem_). So (_Ajáw_) be (_vel_) it (_les_), and more (_kómi_). - - - -NOTE. - - -In response to the canal and gipsy children’s prayers, cries, and tears, -the only answer coming as yet is as follows: With the assistance of the -Government, represented by the Right Hon. Sir Charles Dilke, M.P., -President of the Local Government Board; the Right Hon. A. J. Mundella, -M.P., Vice-President of the Committee of Council on Education; J. T. -Hibbert, Esq., M.P., Parliamentary Secretary to the local Government -Board, Mr. Burt, M.P., introduced the Canal Boats Act (1877, 46 Vict.) -Amendment Bill on April 9th, 1883, and it was read the first time. When -the Bill came on for the second reading on April 18th, Mr. Salt, M.P., -for Stafford, met it with a “blocking” amendment as follows: “After the -Second reading of the Canal Boats Act (1877) Amendment Bill, to move that -it be referred to the Select Committee on Canals.” _The Daily News_ in a -leader states: “Mr. Salt intends to move that the Canal Boats Act (1877) -Amendment Bill be referred to a Select Committee. The motion, if -carried, would shelve this useful and unpretending Bill for another -session.” I was in the Speaker’s gallery, and saw with sorrowful pangs -Mr. Salt move his successful check to the Bill. This was no sooner done -than Mr. P. A. Taylor, M.P. for Leicester, took his hat off to “scotch” -the further progress of the Bill. Notwithstanding the entreaties of Earl -Stanhope, Mr. W. E. Forster, M.P., Mr. Pell, M.P., myself and others, Mr. -Salt refused to drop his “blocking” amendment, although Mr. Salt and Mr. -Taylor knew full well that any amendment they might propose when the Bill -is in Committee before the “House” would be considered. Later on Mr. -Warton, M.P. for Bridport, put his universal block on, as he always does -when measures for the country’s welfare come to the front and are likely -to pass into law. In the week commencing April 30, 1883, no less than -twenty-nine “blocks” had emanated from this “honourable member’s” brain -to be placed against the legislative action of Parliament for the -country’s good. - -On Friday, April 27th, the _Daily Telegraph_, in a leader, states Mr. -Algernon Egerton, M.P. for Wigan, has “blocked” the Canal Boats Act -Amendment Bill brought forward by Mr. Burt on behalf of Mr. George Smith, -of Coalville. - -It seems inexplicable that Mr. Taylor, who, as a Member of the “House,” -helped me to get the Brickyard Act of 1871 and the Canal Boats Act of -1877 passed, should at the last moment take steps to prevent the success -of the Act of 1877 which my Amending Bill would bring about, and with but -little cost or inconvenience to all parties. Both Mr. P. A. Taylor and -Mr. Salt are friends to the cause I have in hand—at least I hope so; but -to check the Bill was a backward move. - -To turn aside the Christianizing and civilizing institutions of the -country from exerting their influence upon 60,000 poor canal and gipsy -children is no light undertaking. It cannot be the cause of the poor -canal and gipsy children that they wish to throw cold water upon, but -upon my unworthy self, who has had the audacity, against immense odds and -under tremendous difficulties, to take the cause of the brickyard, canal, -and gipsy children in hand. Time and patience weave trials into -pleasures and difficulties into crowns. - -In the meantime the children’s cries are going east, west, north, and -south, upward and heavenward for help. Shall it be given? They are more -in need of it by far than the children of other working classes. Oh, -that a speedy answer may come, and the children delivered from the vortex -of ruin and the jaws of death by the hand of the most enlighted -Government in the world! - - - - -APPENDIX A. -MY PLANS EXPLAINED AND OBJECTIONS ANSWERED. - - -To illustrate more fully the plans I suggest for improving the condition -of the canal, gipsy, and other travelling children, and to bring to the -surface all the weak as well as the strong points which the working out -might reveal, I cannot do better, I think, than introduce my readers to -an imaginary large gathering of my friends, with a real object in hand, -in one of the Committee rooms at the House of Commons, which list of -friends, including Lord Aberdare, Lord Aberdeen, Lord Stanhope, Sir -William V. Harcourt, M.P., Sir Richard A. Cross, M.P., Sir Charles Dilke, -M.P., Mr. W. E. Forster, M.P., Mr. J. T. Hibbert, M.P., Mr. Mundella, -M.P., Mr. Alexander McArthur, M.P., Mr. W. H. Wills, M.P., Mr. A. Pell, -M.P., Mr. Salt, M.P., Mr. Thomas Burt, M.P., Mr. Frank A. Bevan, Mr. -Edwin Lawrence, will be found in my previous works, and earlier in this, -together with many other valuable friends and well-wishers to the cause -of the poor neglected brickyard, canal, and gipsy children. Their names -will ever be remembered and spoken of by me with the profoundest respect. -They are names that stand high in the legislative, literary, press, -philanthropic, social, and religious annals of our country, irrespective -of creed, sect, or party; and nothing, had space been at my disposal, -would have given me greater pleasure than that of showing my gratitude to -them by placing all their names upon these pages. {339} - -_Question_ 1. “Would you explain to us more fully than you have done in -your Congress papers and ‘Gipsy Life,’ the plans you refer to for -bringing about an improvement in the condition of the gipsy and other -travelling children?” - -In the first place, as I have previously stated, all the vans and other -temporary movable dwellings should be registered in a manner analogous to -that provided under the Canal Boats Act of 1877. The certificate to be -renewable annually at any of the Urban or Rural Sanitary Authorities in -the country, the owner of the tent or van paying a sum of ten shillings -per annum; to be equally divided between the local authorities and the -Local Government Board. - -_Question_ 2. “Will you explain to us how the ten shillings is to be -collected and divided between the government and the local authorities?” - -I would propose that the five shillings paid to the Government should be -paid in the form of a charge upon each certificate; or, in other words, -each certificate of registration should be stamped with a five shilling -stamp, and collected by the Government as the other stamps are collected. -The other five shillings should be kept by the local authorities for -their trouble and expense in the matter. - -_Question_ 3. “How do you propose dealing with the fines?” - -The fines should be handed over to the local sanitary authorities, who, I -suggest, with the sanction of the Local Government Board, should enforce -the Act. - -_Question_ 4. “How would you meet the case of a man who, with his -family, is at the end of the year, when his annual certificate expires, a -hundred miles away from the place where he obtained his certificate of -registration?” - -I will try to illustrate my meaning in this way. Suppose that a man -registered his van at Tunstall, Staffordshire, in the first instance, -say, on January, 1883, but during the year he had wandered all over the -country almost, and on January, 1884, he was at Northampton with his van -and family. I propose that he should take his last certificate of -registration to the sanitary authority at Northampton and get it renewed. -This plan works out right in the case of hawkers. Of course, the van -would have to be brought to the officers, or at any rate, it would have -to be where it could be inspected. - -_Question_ 5. “You say in your Congress papers that the certificate -should be taken on the first of January in each year. Now suppose a man -wanted to register his van in October, would the owner be required to pay -the sum of ten shillings for the remaining two months of the year, and -then be required to take out another certificate on the following -January?” - -According to the plan sketched out in my Congress paper it would be so; -but on further consideration it would, I think, be much more simple, -fair, and easy if the certificates were taken out for a year at any time -or place the owner thought fit to apply for them. - -_Question_ 6. “Will you explain why it is that you think the -certificates of registration should be renewed annually? Would it not be -sufficient if the vans and temporary miserable dwellings were registered -only once?” - -No, I do not think it would. Vans, as in the case of canal boats, often -change hands, and to keep an oversight of and be able to trace the vans -through all their changes would require a lot of official and intricate -machinery to be set in motion which would not be needful if the -certificates of registration were taken out every year. Every -application for a certificate or a renewal of a certificate would bring -the owner to the front. The changes taking place during the year could -be endorsed upon the back of the certificate, and with the transfer of -the van I would hand over the certificate of registration in force to the -new owner. - -_Question_ 7. “What is the advantage to be gained by registration?” - -Registration is the first step towards the advantages that are to follow. -By registration the owners and occupiers of the vans are known, and the -School Board officers and sanitary inspectors have the initial powers to -bring their influences to bear upon the children growing up without -education. The gipsies and other travellers as a rule pass through the -country under so many different names that unless the vans are registered -and their owners known it would be impossible to carry out the reforms -that are needed. I have not found one traveller who would object to -their vans being registered, provided it could be brought about in an -easy and inexpensive manner. - -_Question_ 8. “Do you not think that ten shillings per annum would be a -heavy tax upon the gipsies and other travellers?” - -Not if we take into account that poor people living in houses have to pay -rates and taxes to a much greater amount than I propose that travellers -should be called upon to pay for their certificates. In fact, they will -be much the gainers if my system of a free education for the gipsy, -canal, and other travelling children be carried out. For the ten -shillings they would, as a rule, receive more than thirty shillings in -educational advantages and remission of school fees. - -_Question_ 9. “How will the sanitary and other authorities know, as the -vans pass through the country, whether they have been registered or not -without the inspectors putting the owners to unnecessary inconvenience -and annoyance?” - -I propose that the name of the owner, the place where the van was -registered, and the number of the certificate should be painted on the -vans and other temporary and movable dwellings. - -_Question_ 10. “Do you not think that the travellers and gipsies would -be much inconvenienced by having to register their vans every year?” - -No, not if they were habitable, and in a fair condition in other ways. -It would not require more than an hour once a year. The forms and -certificates would only take a few minutes to fill up. - -_Question_ 11. “How do you propose bringing about the education of the -gipsy and other travelling children?” - -I would do as I have proposed in my “Gipsy Life” and Congress papers, -viz., establish a free educational pass book, which book should not cost -the parents more than one shilling, and on the plan set forth in my -“Canal Adventures by Moonlight,” p. 162. The pass book would do for all -the children living in the van or canal boat, and the child or children -presenting it to any schoolmaster connected with any properly organized -public school would claim at his hands a free education for so long a -time as they presented themselves for admission. With the system of pass -books there will not be the difficulties that would have been created by -the pass-book system in the village dame school days of yore. Day -schools, as you know, are now conducted upon the standard and code -system. I will try to illustrate how the plan would work out in -practice. Opposite my room windows across the green, all last week was -an old tumble-down van in which there was a man, his wife, and seven -children. Five of the children were of school age—none of them could -tell a letter; but, supposing that Tom was in the First Standard, Betty -in the Second, Bill in the Third, Polly in the Infants’, and Jack in the -Fourth Standards, these classifications and particulars would be entered -in the pass book, and supposing that the gipsy had sent the children with -their pass book to the National School on his arrival in the village, the -schoolmaster would immediately he had opened the book have seen to which -standard each child belonged, and would have sent him or her into it. - -_Question_ 12. “Do you not think that it will cause the schoolmaster -extra trouble; and how do you propose to meet this difficulty?” - -I have talked to several schoolmasters upon the subject, and they think -that all attendances of travelling children should be entered and paid -for at the rate of those children who pass their examinations. Each -child who passes the usual examinations costs the country about tenpence -per week, and I have been told by schoolmasters that if this sum was -forthcoming from the Government for the gipsy and travelling -children—which is the system I propose to meet the case of the canal -children—they would gladly receive them into their schools; or, in other -words, the Government must pay the schoolmaster one penny for each -attendance, which should be entered in his school returns to the -Education Department; the same course in some respects which is taken -with pauper children. - -_Question_ 13. “What plans do you propose for granting the gipsy and -canal children their certificates of qualification?” - -I would propose that the children should be allowed to present themselves -at any school for an examination at the usual time; _i.e._, provided they -had made two hundred attendances during the year, and that such -attendances had been duly entered in pass books and signed by the -schoolmasters at whose schools the children had attended; or that they -satisfied the school attendance officers or School Board authorities, -wherever their vans were registered, that the gipsy children were being -educated privately, or in other ways to their satisfaction. - -_Question_ 14. “Do you not think that there will be much difficulty in -getting the children to make two hundred attendances during the year?” - -No. As a rule, all travelling vans, canal boats, and other miserable -dwellings are not on the move more than half the time. Frequently they -will stay for weeks together in one place. And I would also, to enable -the children to make their number of attendances, reckon two attendances -in a Sunday-school equal to one day-school attendance. - -_Question_ 15. “Do you not think that parents of town children will -object to their sitting by the side of gipsy and canal children?” - -In some instances the parents might object to it, as you say, but -generally they would not. I think that two-thirds of the children now -travelling the country are the children of parents who once followed town -and settled employments. If the children I want to introduce to the day -schools throughout the country had been gipsy children of past years, -with all their evil habits manifested at every step of their lives, I can -imagine that strong objection would be raised against their introduction -to English school life. Our present gipsy children are, as a rule, our -travelling gutter children. I think that the mixing of the travelling -children with the town children at school will be one of the first steps -towards bringing them back to civilized usages and habits. At the -present time gipsy and canal children are the outcasts of society, -unknown and unrecognized by others, except by those of their own kith and -kin. The mother has at the present time no object to “dress up her -children for.” With its introduction to school, natural instincts, -parental feelings, love, and hope are brought once more into action, and -generally the natural consequence will be that the mother will send her -children to school as clean and well dressed as other children are. To -have separate schools for canal and gipsy children will not be a workable -plan. Sometimes for weeks the teacher would scarcely have anything to -do; gipsies especially fluctuate very much. - -_Question_ 16. “We should be glad if you could give us additional -reasons and facts, and explain a little more to us why you think that -vans should be registered annually, or at any rate have their -certificates renewed.” - -In the first place, I would say that the non-annual registration was, and -is so still, one of the principal causes why the Canal Boats Act of 1877 -is not so satisfactory as desired. The children living in canal beats -under the Act of 1877 really belong to the place at which the boats are -registered. This is as it should be, and I want the principle of -localizing or identifying the canal children with some place extended to -all travelling children living in vans; but that identification must give -the parents a choice of selecting other districts or localities from time -to time as changes of circumstances and other things might require. -Under the present system, when once the boat is registered at a place, -the children, under the Act of 1877, belong to that place till they are -past school age, and no provision is made under the Act for changes which -often occur in a boatman’s life, or would occur in a gipsy’s life. I -will try to illustrate my meaning more clearly by taking a case in point -as regards the carrying out of the Canal Boats Act, which would apply -with equal force to children living in vans. When the Canal Boats Act of -1877 came into operation, either through the strictness or laxity of -other registration authorities, more than eight hundred canal boatmen and -boat-owners from all parts of the country applied to the Runcorn -registration authorities to have their boats registered. Of course they -registered the boats, and obtained the five-shilling fees. After a time -it was found out that the School Board authorities at Runcorn were called -upon to provide school accommodation for nearly two thousand boat -children, which they could not do. At any rate, they did not wish to -saddle the town with the expenses of educating boat children from all -parts of the country, and from whom they received nothing in return; and -the consequence is the two thousand boat children whose floating houses -are registered at Runcorn are going without education to-day, and their -patents cannot, so long as this registration exists, place them in any -other School Board district in this country. The annual registration -which I propose will give the boating and gipsy parents the opportunity -of changing their homes or headquarters without detriment to the -children, and the establishment of more registration districts would, I -am thoroughly convinced, place the matter on a satisfactory and workable -basis. If John Jones during the year ceased working his boat in and out -of Runcorn, and took to Paddington’s scented waters, he could, by -registering his boat at Paddington at the time of the renewal of his -certificate, put his children under the London School Board, which he -cannot do under the present system. To meet the case of the gipsy and -van children, any sanitary authority should be a registration authority, -or at any rate at those towns where hawker’s licences can be obtained. - -_Question_ 17. “How would your plan work out in the case of those -families who live part of the year in vans, and the other part of the -year in houses?” - -I would propose that their vans should be registered at those -registration districts in which the owner of the van has his settled -home. I will illustrate this in the following manner. Suppose an owner -of a van, after travelling the country during the summer months, draws -his van into a yard and takes to house dwelling during the winter. Of -course, the children during the winter months will be under the School -Board authorities, at the place where his house is rated for the relief -of the poor and other rates; but supposing—as is often the case—with the -dawn of spring the gipsy traveller desires to leave his house during the -summer mouths, and takes his wife and children round the country, I would -suggest that he should provide himself with a free educational pass book, -and that he should be compelled to send his children to some day school -the required number of times, and it would be the duty of the School -Board officers where his van is registered, together with the School -Board officers where the vans may be temporarily located, to examine the -pass book, and to see that the educational clauses were carried out. In -case of village feasts the children should be sent to the next village -school. Children can easily make the number of attendances. - -_Question_ 18. “What is your opinion about the education gained in this -way?” - -It will not be the best education in the world, but it will be a thousand -times better than none at all. It would cause them to see some of the -advantages of education, and it would start their young ideas up -civilizing channels. - -_Question_ 19. “Would it not be a hardship upon the parents if the -children were not allowed to work in connection with their vans and shows -until they had passed the Third Standard?” - -They would not be in a worse position than other working classes are. As -a rule, they spend much more money in drink than labourers in our towns -and villages do. All the working classes, except the two I refer to, are -prohibited from sending their children to work before they have passed -the Fourth Standard, and I am sure that the little gipsy, acrobat and -other children attending stalls, shows, and cocoa-nut establishments -endure more trying occupations, long hours, and severe toil than our -factory children. - -_Question_ 20. “How would you deal with those gipsies, and others who -are living and huddling together in old vans and other places, whose -travelling homes the Sanitary Inspectors would not pass as habitable?” - -There would be three ways open to them: First, they must be compelled to -hire a habitable van, which vans can be had on hire at Bristol and other -places; or, secondly, they must go into settled homes; or, thirdly, we -must apply the plan I propose for granting them long leases of common or -waste land at a nominal rent. - -_Question_ 21. “Will you explain why it is that you would charge ten -shillings per annum for vans, and only five shillings per annum for canal -boats?” - -Canal boats are engaged in furthering commerce, and thus add to the -wealth of the country. In the case of gipsy vans, the owners use the -roads of the country and pay neither rates nor taxes, and they do not, -except those who use their vans to hawk goods round the country, add to -the welfare of the nation, and for that reason I would suggest a little -heavier registration fee. Gipsies and canal boatmen can move about the -country for centuries and not be called upon to pay one farthing for any -kind of rates, which is a pleasure they ought to enjoy without one -moment’s delay. - -_Question_ 22. “You say in your Canal Boats Act Amendment Bill, and you -want the principle extended to vans, that no child or young person should -be allowed to work for either hire or profit on Sundays. Would not this -be rather hard upon poverty?” - -The law prohibits children and young persons being employed in other -occupations, and there is no earthly reason why the poor travelling -children should toil seven days a week. I claim that if children -employed all-week in light healthy work are exempted from Sunday labour, -then most surely children tramping the country in vans should have the -same right. In Section 21 Clause 3 of the Factory and Workshop Act, -1878, 41 Vict. ch. 16, it is laid down that “a child, young person, or -woman shall not be employed in a factory or workshop” with some -exceptions; so you will see that I do not go so far as the Section I have -quoted does, although the travelling children need the protection more. - -_Question_ 23. “How would you do in the case of boats conveying -perishable goods?” - -The boats should be worked by adults as fly boats are. - -_Question_. 24. “Do you not think that your plan would interfere too -much with the liberty of Englishmen? Ought not a traveller to be allowed -to live where he likes and how he likes?” - -Yes: providing it were good for the nation and everybody did the same. -My plan would not interfere with the liberty of the gipsies and other -travellers nearly so much as the law already interferes with the -liberties of others of her Majesty’s subjects. People living in ships, -houses, palaces, cellars, barracks, cabs, coaches, and carriages have to -conform to healthy rules and sanitary requirements. I knew a case of a -travelling house conveying small-pox to a large town and causing more -than 2,000 deaths. I have known over and over again of cases where -infectious diseases have been carried through the country by means of -canal boats and vans. Only the other day a man, wife, and five children -came to our door with an old tumbledown pony and rickety waggon. The -little box upon the top of the waggon, used as “sleeping apartments” for -the whole of the family, would not be seventy cubic feet of space. Even -in this little crib the five children were all ill of a highly infectious -disease, which they were carrying through the country. The two main -influences I want to bring to bear upon the little travellers and their -homes are the universally acknowledged social laws for elevating those -living in the gutter, viz., education and sanitation. With the thorough -application of these to little gipsies I shall be satisfied, and then the -children will have made the first step in a gradual improvement, leading -them to Christianity and civilization, so that they shall be strong -enough in brain and muscle to turn the world upside down and downside up. -I want the road to school made easier than the road to jail, and I would -prefer seeing the sanitary inspector and School Board officer walk into -the gipsy vans than either the policeman or the doctor. - -_Question_ 25. “How do you propose carrying out the Act? Would you -leave the matter entirely in the hands of the local authorities?” - -I propose that the registration and local inspection should be done by -the local authorities in the town or places through which the vans passed -or stayed, as the case might be. I do not think that it would be wise to -place the actual working out of the plans I propose in the hands of the -Local Government Board. The Local Government Board should only be called -upon to appoint one or two Inspectors to visit the fairs and other places -occasionally to see that the local authorities properly carried out the -Act. I recommend the same course in the “Canal Boats Act Amendment -Bill.” - -_Question_ 26. “How would you propose paying the Government Inspectors? -Would their salaries be an increased charge upon the Treasury?” - -No: the Inspectors would not cost the country one farthing, as the -profits arising from the 5s. stamped registration certificates would more -than pay the Government for their expenses of supervision; and the other -5s., together with the fines, would satisfy the local authorities. - -_Question_ 27. “What number of travelling families are there in the -country who would be called upon to take out annual registration -certificates?” - -I should think at a rough calculation there will be between six and eight -thousand, which would yield a sum of £1,500 to £2,000 annually. - -_Question_ 28. “You refer in your Congress papers to the granting of a -portion of land to certain classes of the gipsies who are desirous of -settling down, on long leases at a nominal rent. Do you think the -gipsies would agree to this plan?” - -I do most assuredly—_i.e._, if any reliance is to be placed upon their -own statements, and I think they are worthy of credence. In the first -place, the land should be granted to those gipsies who have been on the -road during the last twelve months only. Secondly, I would grant to each -family of man, wife, and two children, four acres; this would, after the -first year, enable a man to keep a cow and grow vegetables enough for the -family. Supposing there were three thousand families, they would require -12,000 acres of waste land. To meet the expenses, and to provide ways -and means, a society should be founded principally upon philanthropic and -business principles combined, and this—or, better still, the -Government—should grant small sums of money to the tenants by way of loan -at a small interest, to enable them to erect a hut, and to provide food -for the first year. Of course the money should be advanced gradually as -the work and other things progressed. I should think that £100 for each -family would be amply sufficient to tide them over the first year, to be -spent as follows: £30 for the hut; £40 for one year’s keep; £17 for a -little Welsh cow; £3 for pig and fowls; and £10 for tools and implements. -The Society advancing the money should have a lien upon the land until -all the money advanced had been paid back. Proper safeguards would have -to be taken on all sides. - -_Question_ 29. “What would be the ultimate effect of this plan of -allotting land to the gipsies and other travellers?” - -The gain would be infinite. The men, women, and children would be drawn -from a life of vagabondage, theft, and idleness to one of work and profit -to themselves and the country’s good. Of course all would require time -to work out. If the three thousand families were eating bread of their -own earning, and cultivating twelve thousand acres of land which is at -present bringing forth nothing but moor game and partridges, the results -would be heavenly and eternal pleasure to themselves and the country. -Any of my plans would be a thousand times better than destroying parental -responsibility by taking their children from them by force and sending -them to industrial schools, “and turning their parents loose” upon -society to inculcate their idle, lying, cheating habits and customs into -others they may be brought in contact with, who stand ready with open -mouths to receive gipsy lies, damning tricks, cheating, and lore as -gospel. - -_Question_ 30. “On behalf of the various Christian churches throughout -the country, would you kindly tell us what steps you would take for -improving the spiritual condition of the gipsies, canal boatmen, and -other travellers? Would you organize a missionary society with a staff -of officials, secretaries, travellers, agents, &c., with headquarters in -London?” - -No. If such an organization was started it is my decided conviction that -but little good would be the result. Missionaries, like other folks, -desire to see the fruits of their labours, which, owing to the -fluctuating habits of the boaters, gipsies, and others, they are unable -to see. The only way in which missionary organization could work -successfully would be to have a few vans and temporary booths, such as -some of the show people use as “boxing establishments,” and to place them -in charge of a good man and his wife, who would live in the van and visit -some of the principal fairs in the country. Religious services and a -Sunday-school could be conducted in the booths on Sundays, and a -day-school for those children whom the law would allow to travel with -their parents on week days, or at any rate on the morning of fair days. -The man and his wife could conduct a religious service at nights, and -also distribute during the day, when not engaged in the school, religious -periodicals and other literature of the kind. By far the better plan -will be for the various religious denominations in each town to set to -work in right good earnest to remedy the evil as it comes periodically -into their midst. Local missionary societies might be formed, composed -of all sections of Christ’s Church, to erect a temporary wooden booth to -stand side by side of the devil’s booths during fair time. Here -religious services could be conducted by various societies in their turn. -The members of the Church of England to have the use of the booth, say on -Saturday; the Wesleyans, Monday; the Congregationalists on Tuesday; the -Baptists on Wednesday; the Primitive Methodists on Thursday, and so on -through the week, the various sections following each other in their -proper order. Sometimes it would happen that the Wesleyans would have -the booth on the Saturday night, and the Church of England on the Sunday. -I am not a believer in a work of this kind being left to a few. It -should be the duty of all Christians and philanthropists to help forward -the cause of the children. Those who give money would give time too, if -asked and set to work. As a rule the givers are the workers, if they -know when to begin and how to begin. Another plan would be to follow the -usual course carried out in missioning back streets, &c., viz., to sing, -distribute tracts among the travellers, gipsies, and others, speaking at -the same time faithful words of counsel, reproof, warning, caution. -Whatever course is followed, the persons engaged in trying to improve the -condition of the gipsies and others must not go about it in a kind of -stand-off manner. When they want to shake hands with either canal -boatmen or gipsies, their fingers must not be put out as if they were -tied upon the end of a cold poker, and they were afraid of the rough grip -of a gipsy crushing it to powder. A warm heart and a pleasant word are -passports that will admit any man or woman into boat cabins, gipsy tents, -and travellers’ rooms. A prying inquisitiveness these people abhor and -detest, and they will resent it to the utmost. Any little matters -relating to their lives, habits, &c., they will tell to friends whose -object is their good without “pumping.” Whoever ministers to the -boatmen, gipsies, or travellers must be prepared to eat at their tables, -and drink out of their cups, even if it be on the ground among mud, out -of a dirty basin, and served with dirtier hands. They do not think they -are dirty, and those who visit them must, if they mean to do any good -among them, shut their eyes and hold their tongues to things they do not -like. Little acts of kindness are not forgotten by them, and a word of -faithful reproof they will appreciate—_i.e._, if it comes from a man or -woman who means their present and eternal welfare. I have said most hard -and faithful things to them, as most people know, for which I have not at -their hands been subjected to insult or abuse. In a few cases where I -have been misunderstood, I have come in for my share, but afterwards they -have been sorry for it. The electrical sparks of sympathy in their -nature will not manifest themselves at the touch of selfish hands. It is -only the love and sympathy in the hearts of those who visit them that -brings out the finer feelings of the boaters and gipsies to perform deeds -of love. I now say again, what I have often said before, that the best -missionary agency for effecting their spiritual good will be the proper -carrying out of an Act on the lines I have laid down. When once the -children are taught to read, the next step should be to see that books of -the right kind are placed in their hands, and, with the blessing of -Heaven, the first step towards a moral reformation in the habits, lives, -and customs of our gipsies, canal boatmen, and other travelling tribes -and classes, will have been taken for their eternal welfare. - -_Question_ 31. “Can you give us any proof of gipsies having taken to -civilized customs and usages, having risen in the social scale equal to -other law-abiding subjects?” - -I will only give you a few names. One of the best and sweetest singers -who ever sang before the Russian nobility was a gipsy damsel. One of the -best actresses that ever put her foot upon an English stage was a gipsy. -A celebrated Scotch clergyman of this late day is of gipsy parentage; and -so is also one of the present-day Wesleyan ministers. Some sculpture and -carving in the large hall of the House of Commons is from gipsy hands; at -any rate there was more than two-thirds of gipsy blood in the artist’s -veins—I have been told that he was a thorough gipsy. The wife of one of -our celebrated London architects is, or nearly so, of gipsy parentage; -and the beautiful little songsters she can paint are most charming. You -could almost imagine when you see her handiwork that you could hear the -pretty little creatures warbling and piping forth God’s praises. They -adorn many drawing-rooms. Recently I have heard of two gipsies in Surrey -who own two rows of houses as a result of their civilized habits. Others -could be named who have saved money, and are a credit to themselves and -the country. John Bunyan was a gipsy, as every one knows who has read -his work and studied his temperament, habits, character, early life, and -surroundings. If there had never been a gipsy in the world but John -Bunyan who had risen out of a wigwam, he would afford sufficient proof -that gipsies, if taken by the hand, can step towards heaven, and draw -others up after them. I knew a number of gipsies who have lived decent -lives and have died happy in God. There are to be seen to-day gipsies -wending their way to God’s house on Sundays, preparing themselves for the -changes which await us all. - -_Question_ 32. “Before we part we should like to ask you what effect -legislation would have upon the travellers and gipsies? Would the -numbers increase or decrease?” - -With the proper carrying out of the education clauses and sanitary plans -I propose, wisely and firmly, the number of gipsies would very soon -decrease, and the sanitary inspectors and School Board officers would be -the instruments for bringing this desirable result about. Persecution, -policeman, and the jail will cause gipsyism to grow, while education and -sanitation will divert it into healthy channels. - - GEORGE SMITH, _of Coalville_. - -WELTON DAVENTRY, - _December_ 31, 1882. - - - - -APPENDIX B. -LETTER TO THE RIGHT HON. EARL ABERDARE. - - -THE following remarks are the substance of a letter I sent to the Right -Hon. Earl Aberdare—who has been a friend to the cause I have in hand, and -more than kind to myself—on May 24, 1882, in reply to some questions his -lordship put to me with reference to some of the details of my plans for -properly carrying out the Canal Boats Act of 1877; and as they will apply -with equal force to the carrying out of my gipsy plans when my Canal -Amending Bill is passed, I deem it right that they should find a place -here. - -“At the present time there will be, at a rough calculation, nearly 10,000 -boats registered. In 1879 there were over 5,000 boats registered, and -the number, owing principally to my continued agitation, has kept -increasing. Supposing that there are only 10,000 boats registered—with -the prospect of another 5,000—this would, if the registration -certificates were stamped with a half-crown stamp, as I suggest to be -paid by the boatowner, produce an annual amount of £1,250, which would be -quite sufficient to cover the expenses of Government supervision, -inquiries, and annual reports. - -“More than half of the hundred registration authorities throughout the -country do not pay any increased salaries to the local registration -officers for registering the boats, and the little inspection that has -been done by them. - -“In some instances £10 per annum has been added to the salaries of the -officers. In some cases more than £10, and in other cases less than £10 -has been added. In one instance the amount of £1 per boat has been given -to the medical officer of health for registering the boats. - -“The officers, in my humble opinion, best qualified to see to the -inspection and registration of the boats under the Amending Bill are the -sanitary officers. - -“I do not propose, nor do I think that it would be wise under present -circumstances, to establish an army of Government inspectors, with all -their attendant charges upon the Treasury. One or two Government -officials supervising the carrying out of the act and making occasional -and unexpected visits to various canal centres or otherwise, and also -advising and working with the local registration officers in the carrying -out of the Act and the regulations of the Local Government Board, is what -I would recommend, at any rate in the first instance. Of course time and -practice, as with other Acts, would develop the weak and faulty places—if -there be any—of the measure. - -“To meet the expenses of the registration and increased salaries of local -inspectors, I propose that the master or captain of each boat shall pay -to the local registration authorities an annual sum of two shillings and -sixpence at the time when the annual certificate of registration is taken -out; this would bring the total amount of the registration to the same as -that now charged, viz., five shillings, for the first year, and the only -registration that has taken place. No plan will be a success unless the -certificate of registration be renewed annually. When the Act of 1877 -came into operation it was expected by the boatowners and boatmen that -there was to be an annual payment and registration fee, and I did not -hear of any objection to it worth naming. - -“After the first registration, and with the assistance of the Government -inspectors or supervisors, the carrying out of the Act of 1877 and this -Act will not be so troublesome and expensive a matter as is supposed. - -“I do not think that, after a year or two, when the Act has got into -working order, there will be any difficulty in the registration -authorities being able to obtain an annual registration fee of five -shillings, apart from the stamped certificates, which would make a total -of seven shillings and sixpence for each boat.” [With the payment of -this amount, supposing that the canal children are receiving a free -education, as I suggest they should, the boatmen with children of school -age will be more than £1 per annum gainers.] “Even this amount is but a -trifle when it is considered that boatmen and boatowners use the -resources of the country, and neither pay rates nor taxes for their boats -floating upon our rivers and canals. Or if it was advisable to raise the -local registration fee from that which I now propose, viz., half a crown, -to five shillings, it could be done without increasing the registration -fee to be paid by the boatmen to the registration authority by dropping -the half-crown stamped certificate and the Government paying for the -expenses of Government supervision and inspection out of the Imperial -Treasury, which, I am told, they are unwilling to do. - -“To illustrate my meaning more clearly with reference to the registration -fee I am now recommending, I will take the case of Leeds as a sample. Up -to 1879 the local inspector at Leeds had registered two hundred canal -boats at five shillings each, producing the sum of £50 to meet the -expenses of the local inspection and registration, and not one farthing -in either fines or fees has been received by the registration authority -at Leeds from the boatowners or boatmen since for the inspection and -registration. Whatever little time has been devoted by the local -authorities to the carrying out of the Act, it has been done at the cost -of the ratepayers at Leeds. According to the plan I propose there will -be, under the Amending Bill, a yearly income from two hundred registered -boats of £25 to the Leeds registration authorities, and £25 per annum to -the Government for the two hundred stamped certificates. - -“I may add that the annual registration fee is fixed by the Local -Government Board in their regulations, and can, without a fresh Act of -Parliament, be altered at any time. - -“Another source of income to the local authorities, provided for under -the Bill, and which would help to make the Act of 1877 and this Act -thoroughly successful, will be that derived from the fines, which, under -the Act of 1877, have hitherto been handed over to the county funds -instead of to those who have been at the expense and trouble of enforcing -the Act. The fines and fees will, I think, cover the whole of the -expenses without taking any money from the local rates, or drawing upon -the Imperial Treasury to any extent worth naming. - -“In course of time, as the Act worked out, it might be desirable that the -captain or master of the boat should have a certificate of qualification -or registration, to be renewed annually. The better class of boatmen -would be pleased with this arrangement, and it would have a beneficial -effect upon the boatmen generally, as in the case of captains of vessels, -&c. - -“Objection might be taken to the yearly registration of canal boats. -Some might say that registration every three years would be quite -sufficient. The yearly registration, if carried out upon a plan set -forth in my ‘Canal Adventures by Moonlight,’ page 219, would be a very -much simpler affair than even in every three years. - -“Canal boats often change hands both as regards ownership and mastership. -To register the boats every three years it would be necessary, in order -to keep a clue of the boats, to have clerks and a set of books wherein to -enter the frequent changes. This plan in many cases would be a -troublesome matter. - -“Boats registered every year would be easily kept in view. The annual -registration would bring both the boatowner and captain to the front. - -“Owing to the children living in the boats being under the school -authorities at which place the boats are registered as belonging to, it -might be desirable, for many reasons, that the place of registration -should be changed. I will take a case to explain my meaning. Suppose a -boat is registered at Liverpool for three years; the children living in -the boat, according to the Act of 1877, belong to Liverpool the length of -time for which the boat is registered. But suppose in the course of a -few months after the boat has been registered for three years the captain -or master comes to work his boat near London. Naturally the captain -would like to have his home and family near London and his children going -to school near him. If the boat was registered at Liverpool for three -years he could not remove his family till the time of registration was -expired. - -“The yearly registration would simplify the whole thing, and to a great -extent overcomes cases of the above kind. With a change of the -registration authority, a change of the school authority to which the -boat children belong takes place as an outcome of the registration of the -boats. - - “GEORGE SMITH, _of Coalville_. - -“_December_ 31, 1882.” - - * * * * * - - UNWIN BROTHERS, THE GRESHAM PRESS, CHILWORTH AND LONDON. - - * * * * * - - - - - - CATALOGUE - OF - NEW AND RECENT - BOOKS - - - _PUBLISHED BY_ - MR. T. FISHER UNWIN. - - [Picture: Decorative graphic] - - London: - 26, PATERNOSTER SQUARE. - 1884. - -_MR. UNWIN takes pleasure in sending herewith a Catalogue of Books -published by him_. - -_As each New Edition of it is issued_, _it will be sent_ post free _to -Booksellers_, _Libraries_, _Book Societies_, _and Book Buyers -generally_—_a register being kept for that purpose_. - -_Book Buyers are requested to order any Books they may require from their -local Bookseller_. - -_Should any difficulty arise_, _the Publisher will be happy to forward -any Book_, CARRIAGE FREE, _to any Country in the Postal Union_, _on -receipt of the price marked in this list_, _together with full Postal -Address_. - -_Customers wishing to present a book to a friend can send a card -containing their name and a dedication or inscription to be enclosed_, -_and it will be forwarded to the address given_. - -_Remittances should be made by Money Order_, _draft on London_, -_registered letter_, _or half-penny stamps_. - -_After perusal of this Catalogue_, _kindly pass it on to some Book-buying -friend_. - - - - -CATALOGUE OF MR T. FISHER UNWIN’S PUBLICATIONS. - - -EUPHORION: Studies of the Antique and the Mediæval in the Renaissance. -By VERNON LEE, Author of “Ottilie,” &c. In 2 vols. Demy 8vo., cloth -extra. £1 1s. - - “The book is bold, extensive in scope, and replete with well-defined - and unhackneyed ideas, clear impressions, and vigorous and persuasive - modes of writing. . . . Large questions have been scrutinized in a - comprehensive spirit, and are treated with both breadth and - minuteness, according to the scale of the work. This will be - apparent from a list of articles in the two volumes. After an - introduction comes ‘The Sacrifice,’ ‘The Italy of the Elizabethan - Dramatists,’ ‘The Outdoor Poetry,’ and ‘Symmetria Prisca.’ . . . ‘The - Portrait Art,’ ‘The School of Boiardo.’ . . . Lastly comes the - longest essay of all, ‘Mediæval Love,’ filling nearly one hundred - pages. This is certainly a masterly performance, going over a wide - field, and showing at every stage abundant - discrimination.”—_Athenæum_. - - “It is richly suggestive, stimulating, and helpful. No student can - afford to pass it by, and no library of importance should be without - it. By the side of Hallam’s volumes and Mr. Addington Symonds’ - History it will be handy as a supplement and as a kind of appendix; - and as such we very cordially recommend it.”—_British Quarterly - Review_. - - “It is a distinct advance on Vernon Lee’s previous work. The - impressions it records are as vividly individual as ever, the - knowledge which informs it is fuller and riper. It deals with a - period incomparably more interesting than the ‘teacup times of hood - and hoop,’ through whose mazes her first work led us so pleasantly; - and it has more unity and continuity than ‘Belcaro.’ Its title is - most happily chosen, since the studies all converge upon that mystic - union of the mediæval Faust with the Helen of antiquity from which - the Renaissance sprang.”—_Pall Mall Gazette_. - - “Every page of ‘Euphorion’ give evidence of immense reading in - Renaissance and in mediæval literature, and the author possesses the - sure instinct so needful in a student of old books, which leads her - to the passages where intellectual booty is to be found. . . . - Deserves a most cordial welcome as a fresh and original contribution - to the history of civilization and art; written in graceful and often - eloquent English.”—_Spectator_. - - “Careful study, independent thought, and fine writing—this is a book - notable and noteworthy in every respect.”—_Academy_. - -ARMINIUS VAMBÉRY; His Life and Adventures. Written by himself. With -Portrait and 14 Illustrations. Fourth and Popular Edition. Square -Imperial 16mo., cloth extra. 6s. - - “A most fascinating work, full of interesting and curious - experiences.”—_Contemporary Review_. - - “It is partly an autobiographic sketch of character, partly an - account of a singularly daring and successful adventure in the - exploration of a practically unknown country. In both aspects it - deserves to be spoken of as a work of great interest and of - considerable merit.”—_Saturday Review_. - - “This remarkable book is partly an autobiographical sketch of - character, partly a record of a singularly bold and successful - attempt to explore a country which at the time when Professor Vambéry - undertook his journey was practically _terra incognita_. . . . - Professor Vambéry’s Autobiography is _omnium consensu_ a work of very - great interest and merit.”—_Life_. - - “We can follow M. Vambéry’s footsteps in Asia with pride and - pleasure; we welcome every word he has to tell us about the - ethnography and the languages of the East.”—_Academy_. - - “Professor Vambéry, of Pest, has just published a book in England - that tells the story of his life; a book that forms, under every - aspect, most agreeable reading. It is not only a deeply interesting - account of his adventurous career, but it is also written in a light - and attractive manner, so that the reader’s attention does not flag - for a moment.”—_Die Gegenwart_. - - “The character and temperament of the writer come out well in his - quaint and vigorous style. . . . The expressions, too, in English, - of modes of thought and reflections cast in a different mould from - our own gives additional piquancy to the composition, and, indeed, - almost seems to bring out unexpected capacities in the - language.”—_Athenæum_. - - “There is something in his travels which reminds us of the wanderings - of Oliver Goldsmith. . . . The English public will find their - interest in him increased rather than diminished by this graphic - account of his life and adventures.”—_British Quarterly Review_. - - “Has all the fascination of a lively romance. It is the confession - of an uncommon man; an intensely clever, extraordinarily energetic - egotist, well-informed, persuaded that he is in the right and - impatient of contradiction.”—_Daily Telegraph_. - - “The work is written in a most captivating manner, and illustrates - the qualities that should be possessed by the explorer.”—_Novoe - Vremya_, _Moscow_. - - “We are glad to see a popular edition of a book, which, however it be - regarded, must be pronounced unique. The writer, the adventures, and - the style are all extraordinary—the last not the least of the three. - It is flowing and natural—a far better style than is written by the - majority of English travellers.”—_St. James’s Gazette_. - -*** _Over Eighty other English and Foreign periodicals have reviewed this - work_. - -THE AMAZON: An Art Novel. By CARL VOSMAER. With Preface by Professor -GEORGE EBERS, and Frontispiece drawn specially by L. ALMA TADEMA, R.A. -Crown 8vo., cloth. 6s. - - “It is a delineation of inner life by the hand of a master. It - belongs to the school of Corinne, but is healthier and nobler, and in - its thought and style fully equal to Madame de Stäel’s famous work. - We do not wonder at the European recognition of its great - merits.”—_British Quarterly Review_. - - “Throughout the book there is a fine air of taste, reminding one a - little of Longfellow’s ‘Hyperion.’”—_The World_. - - “It is a work full of deep, suggestive thought. M. Vosmaer, in - writing it, has added another testimony to his artistic greatness and - depth.”—_The Academy_. - - “One meets with delicate and striking views about antique and modern - art, about old Rome and Italy. Moreover, the plot is interesting. - One cannot but feel interested in the persons. Their characters are - drawn with great skill.”—_Revue Suisse_. - -GLADYS FANE: The Story of Two Lives. By T. WEMYSS REID. Fourth and -popular edition. In 1 vol. Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 6s. - - “One of the most delightful novels it has been our pleasure to read - for many a long day.”—_Pictorial World_. - - “‘Gladys Fane’ is a good and clever book, which few readers who begin - it are likely to put down unfinished, and which shows considerable - powers of telling a story.”—_Saturday Review_. - - “The author of the delightful monograph on ‘Charlotte Bronte’ has - given us in these volumes a story as beautiful as life and as sad as - death. . . . We could not ‘wear in our heart’s core’ the man who - could read aloud with unfaltering voice and undimmed eyes the last - pages of this prose story, which is almost a poem, and which - - ‘Dallies with the innocence of love - Like the old age.’”—_Standard_. - - “Mr. T. Wemyss Reid, the talented editor of the _Leeds Mercury_, has - in ‘Gladys Fane’ developed wonderful power as a writer of fiction. - ‘Gladys Fane’ is no ordinary tale; the conventionalities of the - present-day novel writer are not observed, but Mr. Reid gives us what - should be the aim of all who produce light literature, something - _novel_.”—_Guardian_. - - “She is thoroughly original; her portrait is carefully finished; and - it may safely be said that if Mr. Reid has a few more characters like - this in reserve, his success as a novelist is assured. . . . It is a - sound piece of work, and, above all, it is very enjoyable - reading.”—_Academy_. - - “The beautiful and terse descriptions of scenery which we find in - this story themselves suggest a genuine poetic element in Mr. Wemyss - Reid. . . . We heartily welcome his success in this new - field.”—_Spectator_. - -SUMMER: From the Journal of HENRY D. THOREAU. Edited by H. G. O. BLAKE. -With an Index. Map. Crown 8vo., cloth, 382 pp. 7s. 6d. - -This volume will contain passages selected from Thoreau’s Journals, -comprising his observations and reflections during the summers of many -years. Some of these are descriptive, with that fine photographic -accuracy which marks Thoreau’s pictures of natural scenes. Other -passages contain those subtle reflections on society, religion, laws, -literature, which also characterize whatever Thoreau wrote, and which -pique the curiosity and stimulate the minds of his readers. The book has -a full index. Thoreau himself seems to have contemplated a work of this -kind, for in his Journal he writes of “A book of the seasons, each page -of which should be written in its own season and out-of-doors, or in its -own locality, wherever it may be.” - -HENRY IRVING: in England and America, 1838–1884. By FREDERIC DALY. With -a Vignette Portrait, specially etched from a Private Photograph taken by -S. A. WALKER, by AD. LALAUZE; printed on hand-made paper by M. SALMON, of -Paris. Second thousand. Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 5s. - - “Mr. Frederic Daly has brought together an interesting mass of facts - which will be acceptable to the admirers of the eminent actor. Mr. - Daly writes with judicious moderation, and without excessive - adulation, thoroughly appreciates the deservedly high position - occupied by the subject of his biography.”—_Athenæum_. - - “Mr. Daly is a strong though by no means undiscriminating admirer of - Mr. Irving. This easy and well-written narrative gives a good idea - of the popular actor’s career.”—_Contemporary Review_. - - “Conscientiously full, thoughtfully considered, and gracefully - written.”—_Daily Telegraph_. - - “It refers succinctly to Mr. Irving’s literary efforts, essays, and - addresses, and concludes with a survey of Mr. Irving’s personal - characteristics. . . . An interesting and useful volume. . . . A - portrait of Mr. Irving, etched by M. Lalauze, is admirable in - execution.”—_Saturday Review_. - - “Written with discriminating taste.”—_The World_. - - “Mr. Daly sets forth his materials with a due sense of proportion, - and writes in a pleasing vein.”—_Daily News_. - -SETTLING DAY: A Sketch from Life. By SOPHIE ARGENT. Crown 8vo., cloth. -3s. 6d. - - “A charming story of real life, and one that is as true to human - nature as it is true to facts.”—_Congregationalist_. - - “A pleasant and wholesome little novelette. . . . It is agreeably - written.”—_Society_. - -THE FUTURE WORK OF FREE TRADE IN ENGLISH LEGISLATION. I. Free Trade in -Land. II. Financial Reform. III. Monopolies. (_The Cobden Club Prize -Essay for_ 1883.) By C. E. TROUP, B.A., Balliol College, Oxford. Crown -8vo., cloth. 3s. 6d. - - “Mr. Troup has written a valuable contribution to the history of the - dispute between Protection and Free Trade. Though it is possible to - differ from his conclusions, no one can deny the ability with which - he has marshalled his facts.”—_Oxford and Cambridge Undergraduates’ - Journal_. - - “Lucid in style, and based on a thorough comprehension of economic - science, the book deserves the attention of all who are interested in - the questions of which it treats—questions which are likely to assume - prominence in the not-distant future.”—_Scotsman_. - - “Leaves no doubt in the reader’s mind that Mr. Troup fully earned his - prize by treating the whole subject in a spirit of discrimination as - well as with undoubted ability.”—_Leeds Mercury_. - -ORIENTAL CARPETS: How they are Made and Conveyed to Europe. With a -Narrative of a Journey to the East in Search of Them. By HERBERT COXON. -Illustrated with Plates and Map. Demy 8vo., cloth extra. 3s. 6d. - - “We have many new and interesting facts, put in an extremely readable - form, concerning carpets and the makers and dealers in - them.”—_Literary World_. - - “Mr. Herbert Coxon has put together on this subject a readable and - interesting volume.”—_Derby Mercury_. - -STOPS; or, How to Punctuate. With Instructions for Correcting Proofs, -&c. By PAUL ALLARDYCE. Third edition. Demy 16mo., parchment antique or -cloth. 1s. - - “Is a clear and useful little book, which is written with more - literary skill than is usually shown in such manuals. Mr. Allardyce - will no doubt do more important work.”—_Athenæum_. - - “At the end Mr. Allardyce gives the useful example of how to correct - a proof—an art which some of those who live by the pen never master - thoroughly.”—_Saturday Review_. - - “We have hardly any words but those of praise to give to his very - thoughtful, very dainty little book.”—_Journal of Education_. - - “We can conceive no more desirable present to a literary - aspirant.”—_Academy_. - - - -CENTENARY SERIES. - - -1. JOHN WICLIF, Patriot and Reformer: his Life and Writings. By RUDOLF -BUDDENSIEG, Lic. Theol., Leipsic. Parchment covers, Antique printing. -2s. - - “Mr. Fisher Unwin has printed in delicious old text, with a - frontispiece and vellum binding worthy of an old Elzevir, Mr. Rudolf - Buddensieg’s brief extracts from Wiclif’s writings. . . . These are - full of interest, and the little volume will be useful for - reference.”—_Graphic_. - - “The matter is equal to the manner, consisting of a summary of the - career of the great Reformer, drawn up by an acknowledged master of - the subject, and of a judicious selection of characteristic passages - from Wiclif’s works.”—_St. James’s Gazette_. - - “No better summary of the conclusions could perhaps be given than - that which Dr. Buddensieg has epitomized.”—_British Quarterly - Review_. - - “A charming book got up in the ‘old-style,’ bound in parchment and - well printed on thick paper, containing a scholarly and appreciative - account of Wiclif’s life.”—_Nonconformist_. - - “Beautifully printed in the old-fashioned manner, and bound in - imitation of vellum, this book is a thing of beauty. The specimens - of Wiclif’s writings are deeply interesting.”—_Sword and Trowel_. - -2. THE TABLE TALK OF DR. MARTIN LUTHER. Fcap. 12mo., Antique Paper, -Parchment boards. 2s. - -This is an entirely new selection and translation by Professor Gibb, from -the ever-popular _Tischreden oder Colloquia_ of “The Monk that shook the -world,” and forms an appropriate _souvenir_ of the 4th Centenary now -being held throughout Christendom. - - “His words are half-battles.”—_Richter_. - - “‘The Table-talk.’ The most interesting now of all the books - proceeding from him.”—_Carlyle_. - - “Deserves the very highest praise. Great discrimination has been - shown in the choice of extracts, and considerable skill in the - grouping of them under appropriate heads.”—_Congregationalist_. - -3. DOCTOR JOHNSON: His Life, Works and Table Talk. By Dr. MACAULAY, -Editor of _The Leisure Hour_. 2s. - -This little work will form an interesting _souvenir_ of the great -lexicographer, as described in its title. The first part will be a -newly-written life by Dr. Macaulay, and the remaining part of the book -will be short extracts illustrative of his writings and conversation. - -OUR MODERN PHILOSOPHERS: Darwin, Bain, and Spencer; or, The Descent of -Man, Mind, and Body. A Rhyme, with Reasons, Essays, Notes, and -Quotations. By “PSYCHOSIS.” Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 236 pp. 4s. 6d. - - “He is a powerful writer. . . . Many of his stanzas are happy - illustrations of wit and wisdom.”—_Literary World_. - - “This is a clever, amusing, and instructive book.”—_The Christian_. - - “This work is highly creditable to the learning and industry of its - author.”—_Glasgow Herald_. - -THE LAW AND THE PROPHETS: Being the Hulsean Lectures for 1882. By F. -WATSON, M.A., Rector of Starston, and some time Fellow of St. John’s -College, Cambridge. Demy 8vo, cloth. 6s. - - “It is worthy of careful and critical review. . . . The book will be - read with great interest by those who are interested in questions - that it treats.”—_British Quarterly Review_. - - “Mr. Watson’s lectures must be awarded unqualified praise. The - lectures themselves are admirable, and nothing less can be said of - the subsidiary additions, which are very valuable as confirmatory of - the main arguments and theses.”—_Clergyman’s Magazine_. - -THE CHRIST OF HISTORY. An Argument grounded on the Facts of His Life on -Earth. By JOHN YOUNG, LL.D., Author of “The Life and Light of Men,” “The -Creator and the Creation,” &c. Seventh and Popular Edition. Crown 8vo., -cloth. 3s. 6d. - -OFF DUTY: Stories of a Parson on Leave. By CHARLES WRIGHT. Crown 8vo., -cloth. 2s. 6d. - - “So genial in its conception, and so modest in its - pretentions.”—_Christian Million_. - - “It is a pleasant miscellany of prose and verse, with sunny gleams of - humour.”—_Christian Leader_. - - “A playful little volume, full of cheery chat, often running away - from the flats of prose into airy verse—with racy anecdote, wise - suggestion, and sound good sense underlying even its fun.”—_Greenock - Daily Telegraph_. - - “The idea of the book is well conceived and carried out. . . . The - book is just the one for the sea-side or holiday resort, and only - needs to be read to be thoroughly enjoyed.”—_Banbury Guardian_. - -LIGHT IN LANDS OF DARKNESS: A Record of Mission Work in - -GREENLAND, LABRADOR, -EGYPT, SOUTH AMERICA, -SYRIA, ARMENIA, -PERSIA, ETC., ETC. - -By ROBERT YOUNG, Author of “Modern Missions.” With an Introduction by -the RT. HON. THE EARL OF SHAFTESBURY, K.G. Illustrated. Crown 8vo., -cloth extra. Second edition. 6s. - -This volume may be considered as a second series of Modern Missions (see -page 11). It has been issued in response to the general demand for a -completion of the record of _all_ Protestant Missions throughout the -world. - -HALF-HOURS WITH FAMOUS AMBASSADORS. By G. BARNETT SMITH, Author of “The -Life of Gladstone,” &c. Crown 8vo., cloth extra, with Steel Portrait. -7s. 6d. - -*** Including Talleyrand, Sir R. M. Keith, Gondomar, The Chevalier D’Eon, -Metternich, Harley, Alberoni, and Lord Malmesbury. - - “More entertaining than many a sensational novel.”—_Echo_. - - * * * * * - - _The Gift Book of the Season_. - -THE ADVENTURES OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. By DANIEL DEFOE. Newly Edited after -the Original Editions. With Twenty Illustrations, by KAUFFMAN, printed -in colours. Fcap. 4to., cloth extra. 7s. 6d. - - “This is irrefutably the edition of ‘Robinson Crusoe’ of the season. - It is charmingly got up and illustrated. The type and printing are - excellent.”—_Standard_. - - * * * * * - -MOLINOS.—Golden Thoughts from “The Spiritual Guide” of MIGUEL DE MOLINOS, -the Quietist. With a Preface by J. HENRY SHORT-HOUSE, Author of “John -Inglesant.” 136 pp., large Fcap. 8vo., cloth extra or parchment. 2s. -6s. - -Readers of “John Inglesant” will be glad to have the opportunity of -renewing their acquaintance with this Spanish Mystic of the Seventeenth -Century, through the medium of a careful selection and translation of the -best things in his “Guide.” - - * * * * * - -PILGRIM SORROW. By CARMEN SYLVA (The Queen of Roumania). Translated by -HELEN ZIMMERN, Author of “The Epic of Kings.” With Portrait-etching by -LALAUZE. Square Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 5s. - - “For this nature of literature the Queen appears to have a special - gift. . . . And never has she been happier than in her _Leidens - Erdengang_, which lies before us to-day. The fundamental idea of - this cycle of stories is wholly symbolical. . . . The next story . . - . is a piece of exquisite writing . . . It is said that for the very - charming motherly figure of Patience, the Queen’s own mother, the - wise and good Princess of Wied, has furnished the prototype. . . . - The last story of the cycles, called _A Life_, changes into an - elegiac tone, and depicts an existence spent in the search of Truth. - Though slightly veiled, it is impossible to ignore its autobiographic - character. We have here the soul of the Queen laid bare before - us.”—_Literary World_ (Review of the German edition). - - “If to write poetry upon a throne be rare of itself, it is certainly - still rarer to find Queens giving artistic form to those moments of - existence that approach the mysteries of human life. Already, in her - ‘Sappho,’ the German poetess, who now occupies a throne, has treated - of the relationship of man to the eternal, but the antique garb - somewhat veiled her purpose, while here (in ‘Pilgrim Sorrow’) she - moves amid modern as well as universal life, and is thus able to - reveal the whole depth of her feeling and lament. For what has - inspired her poetic phantasy is the ever-unanswered question: - Wherefore and whence is sorrow in the world? The treatment is - throughout symbolical. . . . It deserves to be counted among the - modern monuments of our literature.”—Review of the first German - edition in the _Augsburger Allgemeine Zeitung_, _Nov._ 2, 1882. - - * * * * * - -OTTILIE: an Eighteenth Century Idyl. By VERNON LEE, Author of “Belcaro,” -“Prince of the Hundred Soups,” &c. Square 8vo, cloth extra. 3s. 6d. - - “A graceful little sketch. . . . Drawn with full insight into the - period described.”—_Spectator_. - - “Pleasantly and carefully written. . . . The author lets the reader - have a glimpse of Germany in the ‘Sturm und Drang’ - period.”—_Athenæum_. - - “Ottilie von Craussen is a charming character.”—_Leeds Mercury_. - - “A graceful little picture. . . . Charming all through.”—_Academy_. - - “Of exquisite literary workmanship; it is full of - interest.”—_Galignani’s Messenger_. - - “It is a prose-poem which cannot fail to exercise on most readers a - refining and purifying influence.”—_Scotsman_. - - “To all who relish a simple, natural, and most pathetic story, - admirably told, we recommend this eighteenth century idyl.”—_St. - James’ Gazette_. - - * * * * * - -THE EPIC OF KINGS. Stories retold from the Persian Poet Firdusi. By -HELEN ZIMMERN, Author of “Stories in Precious Stones,” “Life of Lessing,” -&c. With Etchings by L. ALMA TADEMA, R.A, and Prefatory Poem by E. W. -GOSSE. Popular Edition, Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 7s. - - “Charming from beginning to end. . . . Miss Zimmern deserves all - credit for her courage in attempting the task, and for her marvellous - success in carrying it out. . . . Miss Zimmern has indeed mastered a - pure simple English which fits the antiquity of her subject, and the - stories are told in a manner which must provoke the envy and - admiration of all who have attempted this singularly difficult style - of composition.”—_Saturday Review_. - - “The carefulness and intelligence she displays in her selections from - the ‘Shāh Nāmeh,’ no less than in her graceful renderings of them, - are deserving of high praise. . . . Miss Zimmern’s translations in - this volume can be read with great pleasure. . . . A striking - feature of the volume is Mr. Gosse’s narrative poem, ‘Firdusi in - Exile,’ in which is told, in charming verse, the picturesque story of - the poet’s exile and death.”—_Athenæum_. - - “Miss Zimmern has succeeded to admiration. . . . The result appears - in a language at once dignified and simple, free from affectation, - and at the same time sufficiently antiquated to carry one into the - atmosphere of the stories themselves. . . . The choice of legends is - a wise one.”—_S. Lane-Poole_, _in The Academy_. - - “Miss Zimmern has been well advised in attempting to paraphrase this - work. In one volume she presents her readers with the essence and - the gist of Firdusi’s Epic, carrying the story down as far as the - death of Rustem—that is, as far as the end of the purely poetical - portion of the poet’s work. She has selected well, and written the - stories in a vivid style. Firdusi’s stories may have a chance of - becoming really popular in England.”—_The Times_. - - “Of Miss Zimmern’s fitness for writing stories of this kind there - need be no question. She has in other fields of literature shown how - well she could adapt the productions of foreign writers to British - tastes.”—_Scotsman_. - -_Also an Édition de luxe_, on Dutch Hand-made Paper, Super Roy. Quarto, -limited to 200 copies. Artist’s Proofs on Japanese Paper, signed and -numbered, bound in Parchment extra. £3 3s. - -Later Impressions, limited to 300 copies, on English Super Roy. 4to., the -Etchings on India Paper, unsigned, bound in Cloth extra. £2 2s. - - *** A limited number of these editions may still be had. - - * * * * * - - GEORGE HERBERT’S POEMS. - -THE TEMPLE: Sacred Poems and Private Ejaculations. By Mr. GEORGE -HERBERT. Small Crown. _New Edition_, with Introductory Essay by J. -HENRY SHORTHOUSE, Author of “JOHN INGLESANT.” - -_This is a fac-simile reprint by typography of the Original Edition of_ -1633. _No pains have been spared to make this an exact replica as -regards paper_, _size_, _print_, _and binding_. - - 4th Edition, Sheep, imitation of Original Binding. 5s. - - Paper boards, Old Style, uncut edges. 5s. - - Imitation Morocco. 6s. - - “The style of Mr. Shorthouse’s dainty little preface is, we should - say, nearly perfect in its kind. . . From the delicate bit of - word-painting with which it opens to the closing paragraph there is - one clear thought running through the whole.”—_Spectator_. - - “This charming reprint has a fresh value added to it by the - Introductory Essay of the Author of ‘John Inglesant.’”—_Academy_. - - * * * * * - -TALES OF MODERN OXFORD. By the Author of “Lays of Modern Oxford.” Crown -8vo., cloth extra. 6s. - - * * * * * - -POEMS AND HYMNS. By the Rev. G. T. COSTER, of Whitby. Fcap. 8vo., cloth -extra, gilt edges. 5s. - - “The descriptive poems are very fine, especially ‘The Village’ ‘Early - Days,’ and ‘The Children.’ These suggest Crabbe in truthfulness of - portrayal and purity of expression. The hymns are also possessed of - more than average merit.”—_Leeds Mercury_. - - * * * * * - -MEDITATIONS & DISQUISITIONS ON THE FIRST PSALM: On the Penitential and -the Consolatory Psalms. By Sir RICHARD BAKER, Knight, Author of “The -Chronicle of England.” &c. &c. A verbatim reprint in modern spelling. -With Introduction by Rev. A. B. GROSART, LL.D., F.S.A. Portrait and -Autograph. Crown 8vo., cloth. 6s. 6d. - - “We have long known the comments of Sir Richard Baker, and we have - often wondered how they escaped reprinting. . . . He turns his text - over and over, and sets it in new lights, and makes it sparkle and - flash in the sunlight after a manner little known among the blind - critics of the midnight school. Deep experience, remarkable - shrewdness, and great spirituality are combined in Sir Richard. It - is hard to quote from him, for he is always good alike, and yet he - has more memorable sentences than almost any other writer.”—_The - Sword and Trowel_. - - * * * * * - -THOMAS CARLYLE, The Man and His Books. Illustrated by Personal -Reminiscences, Table Talk, and Anecdotes of Himself and his Friends. By -WM. HOWIE WYLIE. Third edition, revised and corrected. Crown 8vo., -cloth extra. 7s. 6d. - -Reviewing the latest volumes on Carlyle, the _Spectator_ of November 12, -1881, says:— - - “The best specimen is that by Mr. Howie Wylie, previously reviewed in - these columns, a work which we know to have been read with pleasure - by at least one warm and intimate friend of Carlyle, and to which, - after perusing others of its kin, we return with a somewhat - heightened estimate, from the point of view of the critic.” - - “One of the most masterly biographies—a bit of work, indeed, which it - would be hard to surpass for sympathy, delicacy, liberality of view, - and wealth of friendly insight.”—_Contemporary Review_. - - * * * * * - -SUNSHINE AND SHADOWS: Sketches of Thought, Philosophic and Religious. By -WILLIAM BENTON CLULOW, author of “Essays of a Recluse.” New and enlarged -edition, with Portrait and Appendix. Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 5s. - - “Should be a great favourite with the small class of readers who love - condensed and concentrated expression, and who value a book in so far - as it sets them thinking for themselves. Such readers will regard - ‘Sunshine and Shadows’ as great spoil, as a companion in rambles, a - book to be pencilled in the margin, to be taken down at odd moments - as a refreshment. Readers who love Landor and Hare and Pascal will - welcome Mr. Clulow’s work and prize it highly.”—_Bradford Observer_. - - * * * * * - -FOOTPRINTS: Nature seen on its Human Side. By SARAH TYTLER, Author of -“Papers for Thoughtful Girls,”&c. With 125 Illustrations. 3rd and -cheaper edition. Crown 8vo., cloth extra, coloured edges. 3s. 6d. - - “A book of real worth.”—_Spectator_. - - * * * * * - -MODERN MISSIONS: Their Trials and Triumphs. By ROBERT YOUNG, Assistant -Secretary to the Missions of the Free Church of Scotland. With many -Illustrations, and a Mission Map. Third edition. Crown 8vo., cloth -extra. 5s. - - “Tells the great story of the trials and triumphs of _Modern - Missions_. It was a happy idea to endeavour to include that story, - as briefly told as might be, in one small volume, so that Christian - people of every Church might read within its four hundred pages the - tale of what has been done in every land and by all sorts of - Christians for the evangelisation of mankind. This book should - certainly be placed upon the shelves of parish, congregational, and - Sunday-school libraries. It is brief and comprehensive.”—_Christian - World_. - - * * * * * - -GERMAN LIFE AND LITERATURE. In a Series of Biographical Studies. By A. -H. Japp, LL.D. Demy 8vo., cloth. 12s. - - OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. - - “This volume, as a whole, is admirable, each chapter being - characterised by thoroughness, impartiality, fine critical - discernment, an always manly literary ability, and, above all, a - moral healthiness of tone. In fact, we are not acquainted with any - English work, or, for that matter, with any Continental or American - work, which we could place with so much confidence in the hands of a - young student of modern German literature as the volume under review, - and as special proof of our assertion we would select the essay on - Goethe. . . . For this work we must express sincere gratitude to the - author.”—_Spectator_. - - * * * * * - -THE HUMAN VOICE AND THE CONNECTED PARTS: A Popular Guide for Speakers and -Singers. By Dr. J. FARRAR. With Thirty-nine Illustrations. Crown 8vo. -cloth extra. 3s. 6d. - - “A very careful and minute exposition of vocal phenomena. Its - utility is enhanced by a large number of diagrams.”—_The Scotsman_. - - “A work that is sure to be found of real practical value.”—_British - Quarterly Review_. - - * * * * * - -THE ROMAN STUDENTS; or, On Wings of the Morning. A Tale of the -Renaissance. By the Author of “The Spanish Brothers,” &c. With -Illustrations by G. P. JACOMB HOOD. Cheaper edition. Imperial 8vo., -cloth extra. 4s. 6d. - - “A thoroughly good historical tale. From its opening scenes in sunny - Venice to its close in a German village, the interest is absorbing, - while the reader feels invigorated by the healthy type of - Christianity displayed, as well as enriched by much knowledge - concerning the ways of men who have long since passed - away.”—_Christian_. - - “One of the best stories of the year.”—_British Quarterly Review_. - - * * * * * - -AMERICAN DISHES, and How to Cook Them. From the Recipe-book of an -American Lady. Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 2s. 6d. - - “A smart little tome . . . Fisheries and fish being at present in - the ascendant, I should recommend all culinary students to turn to - the section of the lady’s book devoted to fish recipes and general - instructions how to choose and prepare the denizens of the deep for - the table . . . She is great also in fish-balls . . . Consult her - pages likewise for baked beans, hominy, potato puffs, rye meal, - squash biscuits, and minced cabbage. In soups she is strong.”—G. A. - S., in _Illustrated London News_. - - “The author has done a really good service to the public. All who - want to know what American cookery is, will possess themselves of - this book, and they will be sure to meet with their - reward.”—_Scotsman_. - - * * * * * - -DICK’S HOLIDAYS, and What He Did with Them. A Picture Story Book of -Country Life. By JAMES WESTON. Profusely Illustrated. Imperial 4to. -Cheaper edition, cloth extra. 3s. 6d. - - “This is precisely the book that sensible parents must often have - been wanting. . . . This delightful book.”—_Academy_. - - “A delightful collection.”—_Graphic_. - - “Mr. Weston has been successful in introducing a new type - picture-book of the liveliest and most instructive kind.”—_Manchester - Guardian_. - - “A new departure . . . all the more acceptable on account of its - originality.”—_Edinburgh Daily Review_. - - * * * * * - -I’VE BEEN A-GIPSYING: or Rambles among our Gipsies and their Children in -their Tents and Vans. By GEORGE SMITH, of Coalville, Author of “Gipsy -Life,” “Canal Adventures by Moonlight,” &c. _With an Appendix showing -the Author’s plans for the Compulsory Registration of Gipsy Vans_, _and -the Education of Gipsy Children_. New and Revised and Popular Edition. -12 Illustrations. 3s. 6d. - -_Her Majesty the Queen_ has been graciously pleased to accept, and to -thank Mr. Smith for, a copy of the above work. - - _The Rt. Hon. Sir Stafford Northcote_, _M.P._, thus writes to the - author:—“Accept my best thanks for your book, which cannot fail to be - most interesting, both on account of the subject and of the author. - Your good works will indeed live after you.” - - “Mr. Smith’s sketches of his visits to the gipsies are graphic and - varied, and will, we trust, serve to excite a wider interest in the - perplexing question of their amelioration, to which the author has - already given yeoman’s service.”—_Contemporary Review_, September, - 1883. - - “The author of ‘Gipsy Life’ has so far made the characteristics and - social condition of this race the study of his life, that nothing - from his pen is likely to be otherwise than instructive. ‘I’ve been - a-Gipsying’ will fully answer the expectations of its readers.”—_The - Record_. - - “No imaginary picture is drawn of distant sufferers on a dark - continent, for the evil, vice, wretchedness, and misery may be seen - any day at our very doors.”—_Daily Chronicle_. - - “A rugged book by a rugged man in real earnest about his life work . - . . These graphic sketches cannot fail to do good service by calling - public attention to a crying evil, and so helping to hasten the day - when an awakened Parliament shall wipe away this reproach from the - nation.”—_Christian_. - - “Those who deliberately and carefully go over Mr. Smith’s book will - be able to see this is not exactly the sort of philanthropical work - which is habitually dismissed with a careless wave of the - hand.”—_Modern Review_. - - “The earnestness, the enthusiasm, the high moral purpose of the man - everywhere shine through, dominate the book, and enforce respect - alike for the author and his design.”—_Christian World_. - - “More interesting than any novel, and holds the reader spellbound . . - . The revelations contained in this book are very startling and - painful.”—_Sheffield Independent_. - - “Will do considerable good, and it throws a flood of light on a - subject of which most men know scarcely anything.”—_Christian - Leader_. - - “Merits a wide circulation, both on its literary merits, and the - importance of its purpose.”—_Liverpool Daily Post_. - - * * * * * - -THE “LIVES WORTH LIVING” SERIES OF POPULAR BIOGRAPHIES. Illustrated -Crown 8vo., cloth extra. Per vol. 3s. 6d. - -1. Leaders of Men. 3. Master Missionaries. -2. Wise Words and Loving Deeds. 4. Labour and Victory. - 5. Heroic Adventure. - -1. LEADERS OF MEN: A Book of Biographies specially written for Young -Men. By H. A. PAGE, author of “Golden Lives.” Crown 8vo., cloth extra, -with Portraits. Fourth edition. 3s. 6d. - -The Prince Consort. Samuel Greg. - -Commodore Goodenough. Andrew Reed. - -Robert Dick. John Duncan. - -George Moore. Dr. John Wilson. - Lord Lawrence. - - “Mr. Page thoroughly brings out the disinterestedness and devotion to - high aims which characterise the men of whom he writes. He has done - his work with care and good taste.”—_Spectator_. - - “No one knows better than Mr. Page how to put within moderate compass - the outstanding features of a life that has blessed the world so as - to present a striking and impressive picture. This is just the - volume to enlarge the views and to ennoble the aims of young men, and - to such we specially commend it.”—_Literary World_. - - “Here is a book which should be in the hands of every boy in the - kingdom in whose mind it is desirable to implant a true ideal of - life, and a just notion of the proper objects of ambition; and we may - congratulate Mr. Page upon having carried out his task with all - possible care and skill. ‘Leaders of Men’ is every way an admirable - volume.”—_Court Circular_. - - * * * * * - -2. WISE WORDS & LOVING DEEDS: A Book of Biographies for Girls. By E. -CONDER GRAY. Crown 8vo., cloth extra, with Portraits. Fifth edition. -3s. 6d. - -Mary Somerville. Madame Feller. - -Lady Duff Gordon. Baroness Bunsen. - -Sarah Martin. Amelia Sieveking. - -Ann Taylor. Mary Carpenter. - -Charlotte Elliott Catherine Tait. - - “A series of brightly-written sketches of lives of remarkable women. - The subjects are well chosen and well treated.”—_Saturday Review_. - - * * * * * - -3. MASTER MISSIONARIES: Studies in Heroic Pioneer Work. By ALEXANDER H. -JAPP, LL.D., F.R.S.E. With Portraits and Illustrations. Crown 8vo. -Third edition. 3s. 6d. - - “An extremely interesting book. The reader need not be afraid of - falling into beaten tracks here.”—_The Guardian_. - - “A collection of sketches from the practised pen of Dr. Japp, of men - who have rendered good service to their race. All are graphic and - very interesting.”—_Nonconformist_. - - “It brings before the reader a vivid conception of all the grandest - chapters in pioneer effort throughout the world. There are many who - must have felt the want of just such a handy book as this, and these - will be grateful to Dr. Japp.”—_Glasgow Mail_. - - “A really excellent and readable book.”—_Literary Churchman_. - - * * * * * - -4. LABOUR AND VICTORY. By A. H. JAPP, LL.D. Memoirs of Those who -Deserved Success and Won it. Third edition, Crown 8vo., cloth extra. -3s. 6d. - -Sir James Outram. Bishop Selwyn. - -Thomas Edward. Sir Titus Salt. - -Sir James Simpson. Thos. Davidson. - -William Ellis. Friedrich Augusti. - - “There must assuredly be a large number of readers to whom these - stories of the lives of such men will prove very - acceptable.”—_Spectator_. - - “We should be glad to see this volume in the hands of thousands of - boys and young men.”—_Leeds Mercury_. - - * * * * * - -5. HEROIC ADVENTURE: Chapters in Recent Exploration and Discovery. -Illustrated. Third edition. Crown 8vo, cloth extra. 3s. 6d. - -*** _Containing in a popular form an account of the travels and -adventures of great explorers of modern times_, _including Schweinfurth_, -_Prejevalsky_, _Commander Markham_, _Vambery_, _Serpa Pinto_, _and -Nordenskiöld_. - - “Gives freshness to the old inexhaustible story of enterprise and - discovery by selecting some of the very latest of heroes in this - field.”—_Daily News_. - - - -New and Cheaper Editions. - - -GUDRUN, BEOWULF, and ROLAND. With other Mediæval Tales. By JOHN GIBB. -With 20 Illustrations. Second and cheaper edition. Crown 8vo., cloth -extra. 3s. 6d. - - “This volume will be certain to charm youthful readers; and a safer - or more acceptable gift-book it would be difficult to find. . . . - Without some such work these precious prototypes of Anglo-Germanic - romance would have remained sealed volumes for all youthful readers; - they therefore owe a debt of gratitude to him who has translated, - condensed, and put them into a popular prose form for their - perusal.”—_Academy_. - - * * * * * - -THE HOUSE BY THE WORKS. By EDWARD GARRETT, Author of “Occupations of a -Retired Life,” &c., &c. With Frontispiece. Third and Cheaper edition. -Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 3s. 6d. - - “The girls with their Quaker and Moravian training, the worthy and - benevolent Mrs. Pendlebury, and society generally, rich and poor, in - Perford, are depicted with skill.”—_Daily News_. - - “The picture he gives us here of the Enticknapp household, with its - Moravian and Quaker traditions, is one nearly perfect of its kind for - sobriety of taste and freedom from all sentimental - exaggerations.”—_Graphic_. - - * * * * * - -THE PRINCE OF THE HUNDRED SOUPS: A Puppet Show in Narrative. Edited, -with a Preface by VERNON LEE, Author of “Belcaro,” “Studies of the -Eighteenth Century in Italy,” &c. With Four Illustrations in Sepia, by -SARAH BIRCH. Cheaper edition. Square 8vo., cloth. 3s. 6d. - - “There is more humour in the volume than in half-a-dozen ordinary - pantomimes.”—_Spectator_. - - “The preface is really more interesting than the ‘Prince of the - Hundred Soups,’ and that—as we hope our readers will find out for - themselves—is saying a good deal.”—_Academy_. - - “For myself, I can say that it had upon me the appetising effect of - that dish in Horace which ‘replaced the sated guest upon his elbow;’ - for though, when I took it up, I was utterly weary and dazed with the - number of books I had gone through, yet I devoured it from cover to - cover with a new zest.”—_Truth_. - - * * * * * - -INDUSTRIAL CURIOSITIES: Glances Here and There in the World of Labour. -Written and Edited by ALEXANDER HAY JAPP, LL.D., F.R.S.E. Third edition. -Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 3s. 6d. - - “Would make an excellent prize or present-book, especially for boys - with a taste for miscellaneous information. Anyone, however, whose - notion of a book is not limited to novels ought to be able to read it - with pleasure, and can hardly do so without profit.”—_Academy_. - - “Dr. Japp travels through a variety of subjects, always entertaining - and instructive.”—_Spectator_. - - “Nowadays boys are so fed upon story books and books of adventure - that we welcome a book which tells them something about the facts of - the world they live in.”—_Graphic_. - - * * * * * - -OLD FAITHS IN NEW LIGHT. By NEWMAN SMYTH, D.D. Crown 8vo., cloth. 3s. -6d. - - * * * * * - -PLANT LIFE: Popular Papers on the Phenomena of Botany. By EDWARD STEP. -With 148 Illustrations drawn by the Author. Third edition. Crown 8vo., -cloth extra. 3s. 6d. - - OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. - - “The author has produced a little volume well suited to attract the - attention and stimulate the curiosity of the student. By clothing - the dry details of morphological construction with information as to - the life history of plants, and by calling attention to the varied - adaptations of form to function, he has followed in the wake of that - numerous band of naturalists who have at once done so much to extend - the bounds of botanical science, and to make it attractive to the - amateur.”—_Athenæum_. - - “More delightful reading for the country at this season of the year - authors and publishers have not provided for us.”—_Pall Mall - Gazette_. - - “An unpretending book, whose contents cover a very great extent of - botanical ground.”—_Science Gossip_. - - * * * * * - -ILLUSTRATED CATALOGUE OF THE ROYAL SOCIETY OF PAINTERS IN WATER COLOURS, -1884. Comprising Seventy-five Facsimiles of Sketches by the Artists. -Demy. 1s. - - - -NEW AND RECENT POETRY. - - -A MINOR POET: And other Verses. By AMY LEVY. Crown 8vo., paper board -style, uncut edges. 3s. 6d. - - “A distinct advance in power on Miss Levy’s former verse. . . . It - will be hard if her verse does not win many friends by its sympathy - and tenderness.”—_Cambridge Review_. - - “Some of her more ambitious pieces remind one of George Eliot’s - poems.”—_St. James’s Gazette_. - - “Her idea of the character of ‘Xantippe’ is certainly original, and - several of her shorter pieces are simple, heartfelt, and - harmonius.”—_Whitehall Review_. - - “Deserves to be singled out from the mass of every-day verse for - special commendation. The book is very much above the average of - such productions.”—_Derby Mercury_. - - * * * * * - -MEASURED STEPS. By ERNEST RADFORD. Crown 8vo., cloth. 4s. - - “He is very happy in his ‘Translations from Heine,’ fully entering - into the poet’s humour, and deftly reproducing the half-sarcastic, - half-pathetic spirit in which Heine so often wrote.”—_Whitehall - Review_. - - “Mr. Radford is himself a poet of no mean ability, and with a good - deal of Heine in his composition.”—_Sheffield Independent_. - - “He has imported into his deeper verse the beauty of a half-regretful - subtlety and the interest of a real penetration. He can think with - fineness and record his thoughts with point.”—_Frederick Wedmore_, - _in The Academy_. - - * * * * * - -POEMS AND BALLADS. By PRYCE GWYNNE. Square Crown 8vo., cloth extra. -3s. 6d. - - * * * * * - -COLLEGE DAYS: Recorded in Blank Verse. Printed on Dutch hand-made paper. -Fcap. 8vo., parchment. 5s. - - * * * * * - -A RIVER HOLIDAY. The Lay of a Boating Trip. With 17 Illustrations by -HARRY FURNISS. Demy 8vo. 1s. - - “This delightful _brochure_ is exquisitively illustrated.”—_Society_. - - * * * * * - -THE TREASURE BOOK OF CONSOLATION: For all in Sorrow or Suffering. -Compiled and Edited by BENJAMIN ORME, M.A., Editor of “The Treasure Book -of Devotional Reading.” Crown 8vo., cloth extra, gilt top. 3s. 6d. - - OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. - - “The book is a striking testimony to the fact that, whatever else - Christianity may be, it is emphatically a power that consoles. Pain - and sorrow, as mirrored in these extracts, are no accidents of human - life, not evil to be endured with what firmness a man may, but - something by which life is made wider, deeper, purer, and infinitely - more glorious than it otherwise could have been.”—_Spectator_. - - * * * * * - -BEAUTIES AND FRIGHTS, WITH THE STORY OF BOBINETTE. By SARAH TYTLER, -Author of “Papers for Thoughtful Girls,” “Footprints,” &c. Illustrated -by M. E. EDWARDS. Second Edition. Small 8vo., cloth extra, gilt edges. -2s. 6d. - - OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. - - “Delightful sketches of girls’ lives.”—_Academy_. - - “Miss Tytler is one of the few writers of modern times who know how - to write girls’ stories. It is impossible for her to be dull; her - tales are always sprightly, easy, and clever, and while she does not - condescend to preach, there are admirable life-lessons to be learned - in all she writes.”—_Literary World_. - - “Clever bits of character sketching.”—_Publishers’ Circular_. - - * * * * * - -THE SHIPWRECKED MARINER: A Quarterly Maritime Magazine. Edited by W. R. -BUCK, Secretary of the Shipwrecked Mariners’ Society. Illustrated. -Published in January, April, July, and October. 6d. Yearly Volumes 3s. -6d. - - * * * * * - -VERS DE SOCIÉTÉ & PARODY, with other Essays. By H. A. PAGE, Author of -“De Quincey,” and “Thoreau.” Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 2d. 6d. - - “We have been much interested in this amusing and instructive volume, - the first half of which is devoted to ‘Vers de Société and Parody.’ . - . . If published alone this essay itself would have deserved to have - been placed alongside of the famous Rejected Addresses.”—_Literary - World_. - - * * * * * - -THE ILLUSTRATED POETRY BOOK for Young Readers. Sm. Crown 8vo., cloth -extra. 2s. 6d. Gilt edges. 3s. - - “It is the best book of the kind which has passed through our hands - for some time.”—_Bookseller_. - - * * * * * - -THE WAY TO FORTUNE: A Series of Short Essays, with Illustrative Proverbs -and Anecdotes from many sources. Third edition. Small 8vo., cloth extra -2s. 6d. - - “Profusely illustrated with proverbs and anecdotes, which being - throughout apt to the injunctions, are likely to act as useful - memories, when the text of ‘The Way to Fortune’ is not at hand.”—_The - Inquirer_. - - “The author is not only a man with a large outlook upon human - affairs, but with a wide and varied knowledge of English literature. - Any young man—or, for that matter, any young woman—who will lay the - counsels of this book to heart, cannot fail to find the way to - nobility, fruitfulness, and usefulness of life, if not to fortune. - We could wish nothing better for this book than to see it in the - hands of all who set any value on self-help.”—_Literary World_. - - “This is not a big book, but it contains no fewer than fifty essays. - Each is necessarily brief, and yet there is not one that does not - contain a large amount of wisdom, made more effective by the help of - illustrative proverbs and anecdotes. We gratefully recognise the - high-toned manliness and spirituality of the skilful maker of the - book. It ought to become a standard, and will make a useful present - to a young man—all the more that it is certain to be read, so full is - it of interest, so amusing and vivacious, as well as instructive and - solid.”—_The Freeman_. - - * * * * * - -MARGARET THE MOONBEAM: A Tale for the Young. By CECILIA LUSHINGTON, -Author of “Over the Seas and Far Away.” With Illustrations by M. E. -EDWARDS. Second Edition. Small 8vo., cloth extra, gilt edges. 2s. 6d. - -[Picture: A specimen of the illustrations: girl with mother and old lady] - -PRINCIPLES TO START WITH. By ISAAC WATTS, D.D. Introduction by THOMAS -BINNEY, D.D. Seventh Thousand. 32mo, red edges, cloth elegant, or in -the new wood binding: maple, cedar, walnut, and sycamore. 1s. - - “A gem in the way of printing and binding, while the excellence of - the short practical precepts offered by the writers can hardly be - over-estimated.”—_Rock_. - - “Just the sort of book for a young man setting out in life. It can - easily be carried in the waistcoat pocket, and we can conceive of no - better _vade mecum_. It is seldom that we meet with so much good - sense packed into so small a space.”—_Congregationalist_. - - * * * * * - -THE CHILDREN’S BOUQUET OF VERSE AND HYMN. Gathered by AUNT SARAH and -COUSIN GRACE. 32mo, red edges, cloth elegant, or wood: maple, cedar, -walnut, or sycamore. 1s. - - “Love for the little ones has clearly been at work in the making of - this selection; good taste as well, and a most catholic - sympathy.”—_Christian Leader_. - - “Its little verses and hymns are selected with fine taste and - appreciation of children’s likings. Externally, the book is a little - gem.”—_Baptist_. - - “One of the daintiest of dainty little books for little people. The - selection of verses is admirable, containing, with some old - favourites, many that will be fresh to most children.”—_Christian_. - - * * * * * - -THE STARRY BLOSSOM, and OTHER STORIES. By M. BETHAM-EDWARDS, Author of -“Minna’s Holiday,” &c. Illustrations by Miss JOANNA SAMWORTH. Small -8vo., cloth extra. 1s. 6d. - - * * * * * - -DAN STAPLETON’S LAST RACE. By Mrs. MILNE RAE, Author of “Morag,” -“Hartleigh Towers,” &c. Small 8vo., cloth extra. 1s. 6d. - - * * * * * - -WINMORE & CO. A Tale of the Great Bank Failure. Small 8vo., cloth -extra. 1s. - - * * * * * - - A HANDBOOK TO - THE FERNERY AND AQUARIUM, - -containing full directions how to make, stock, and maintain Ferneries and -Freshwater Aquaria. By J. H. MARTIN and JAMES WESTON. With 43 -Illustrations. Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 1s. Paper Covers. 9d. - - *** Issued also in two parts, paper covers, 6d. each. - - “We cordially recommend it as the best little _brochure_ on ferns we - have yet seen. Its merits far exceed those of much larger and more - pretentious works.”—_Science Gossip_. - - “Though what Mr. Weston has to say is comprised within fifty pages, - it forms one of the best manuals on the subject we have - seen.”—_English Mechanic_. - - “Few of the people, perhaps, who are sincere lovers of flowers and - gardens, imagine the ‘fern paradise’ it is possible for them to make - with very little trouble. To such we would commend this admirable - manual. In brief compass, and without wasting words, it tells all - that is necessary to be known for the general cultivation of these - lovely plants.”—_Literary World_. - - “Those who are anxious to know the methods by which the fresh-water, - the insect, the microscopical and the marine aquaria, are managed - with success will do well to consult Mr. Weston’s pages.”—_Field - Naturalist_. - - * * * * * - -ADULTERATIONS OF FOOD (How to Detect the). By the Author of “Ferns and -Ferneries.” Numerous Illustrations. Crown 8vo., sewed. 9d. - - “The little work before us offers many useful hints to householders - as to the detection of everyday adulteration.”—_Pall Mall Gazette_. - - * * * * * - -THE BATH AND BATHING. By Dr. J. FARRAR, F.R.C.P.E. Crown 8vo., limp -cloth. 9d. - - “Dr. Farrar’s manual is not only cheap, but it is so clear, concise, - and practical that no one need fail to carry out his instructions, or - in deriving wise counsel and direction from his pages.”—_Literary - World_. - - * * * * * - -HALF-HOLIDAY HANDBOOKS: Guides to Rambles round London. With Maps, -Illustrations, and Bicycle Routes. Crown 8vo., sewed 9d. Cloth 1s. - - I. KINGSTON-ON-THAMES AND DISTRICT. - II. ROUND REIGATE. - III. DORKING AND DISTRICT. - IV. ROUND RICHMOND. - V. GEOLOGICAL RAMBLES ROUND LONDON: A Guide to Old-World - London. - VI. ROUND TUNBRIDGE WELLS. - VII. GREENWICH, BLACKHEATH, AND DISTRICT. - VIII. FROM CROYDON TO THE NORTH DOWNS. - IX. ROUND BROMLEY, KESTON, AND DISTRICT. - X. ROUND SYDENHAM & NORWOOD. - XI. WIMBLEDON, PUTNEY, AND DISTRICT, including BARNES, - ROEHAMPTON, MERTON. &c. - EPPING FOREST AND DISTRICT. - - HAMPSTEAD, HIGHGATE, FINCHLEY, AND DISTRICT. - - GUILDFORD, GODALMING, AND DISTRICT. - - _The last three are in preparation_. - - “We could not do better than consult one of these cheap - Handbooks.”—_Times_. - - “Those Half-Holiday Handbooks are very useful. But why not ‘Whole - Holiday Pocket Books,’ showing where to go, when to go, and how to go - it? If Mr. Fisher Unwin doesn’t look sharp, we shall have this - series out ourselves about Whitsuntide.”—_Punch_. - - “Will be a boon to the weary Londoner, anxious to commune with - nature.”—_The Inquirer_. - - “Capital guides to walks in the districts.”—_Daily Chronicle_. - - “A pleasant and convenient series of books for the guidance of the - pedestrian.”—_Literary World_. - - “An idea with which we and our fellow-naturalists heartily - sympathise. The series is one marked by that feeling for nature - which it is so desirable to extend.”—“H. W., in _Bayswater - Chronicle_. - - “The publishers have hit upon a good idea in their Half-Holiday - Handbooks, which are likely to become popular favourites.”—_Graphic_. - - “The publishers have done well in issuing these little readable - manuals for the guidance of the Londoner, who, pent up all the week - over his desk, or otherwise debarred from the sight of more natural - objects than city sparrows, seeks in the short space granted him by - the Saturday half-holiday movement, or on the feast-days of St. - Lubbock, that closer acquaintance with the rural delights so - necessary for his bodily and mental health. It is, of course, - impossible in the short space of some seventy or eighty small pages - to do more than indicate the chief attractions of localities so - pleasant by nature as those above named; but these are very fairly - set forth, and being illustrated by sections of a map on the scale of - nearly one and a half miles to the inch, will be found of decided - utility to the pedestrian in search of an object.”—_The Field_. - - “Fulfil their purpose thoroughly as a tourist’s companions in his - rambles about districts within a short distance from - London.”—_Bookseller_. - - “They combine the useful information of the hackneyed local - guide-book with something which is rarer and more difficult to - present—the fostering of a love of nature and the kindling of some - enthusiasm for the objects generally passed unheeded by the run of - holiday excursionists, because they have had no chance of learning - how to observe, nor have tasted the delights of it. . . . The - information is very closely packed, and justice is done to the lovely - scenery and scientific novelties of the neighbourhood. The books are - certainly cheap and well got up.”—_Nonconformist_. - - “The best guides of the kind we have yet seen.”—_Lund and Water_. - - “Will be found to add much interest to a Saturday afternoon walk into - the country.”—_Nature_. - - “Should achieve a wide popularity.”—_Court Circular_. - - “All models of what a gossiping guide-book should be.”—_South London - Press_. - - * * * * * - -GENESIS THE THIRD: History, not Fable. Being the Merchants’ Lecture for -March, 1883. By EDWARD WHITE. Crown 8vo., Cloth extra. 1s. Sewed 6d. - - * * * * * - -SISTER EDITH’S PROBATION. By E. CONDER GRAY, Author of “Wise Words.” -Small 8vo., cloth extra. 1s. - - “The three tales of which this volume is composed are not only well - written, but cannot fail to strengthen those who read them, - especially the young, in pure and holy living.”—_Literary World_. - - - -EDUCATIONAL WORKS. - - - ARMY EXAMINATION SERIES. - -I. GEOMETRICAL DRAWING: Containing General Hints to Candidates. Former -Papers set at the Preliminary and Further Examinations, and Four Hundred -Questions for Practice in Scales and General Problems. By C. H. OCTAVIUS -CURTIS. Illustrated. Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 2s. 6d. - -II. A MANUAL OF FRENCH GRAMMAR. By LE COMPTE DE LA HOUSSAYE, Officier -de la Légion d’Honneur, French Examiner for Military and Civil -Appointments. Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 2s. 6d. - -III. GEOGRAPHY QUESTIONS: Especially adapted for Candidates preparing -for the Preliminary Examination. By R. H. ALLPRESS. M.A., Trin. Coll., -Camb. Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 2s. 6d. - - * * * * * - -EASY LESSONS IN BOTANY. By EDWARD STEP, Author of “Plant Life.” With -120 Illustrations by the Author. Third Edition. Linen covers. 7d. -Also in two parts, paper covers, 3d. each. - - OPINIONS Of THE PRESS. - - “Numerously illustrated, clearly written, with a good deal of matter - packed with much dexterity into a small space.”—_Science Gossip_. - - “The arrangement is good; the illustrations are very numerous, there - being three or four on almost every page; and the writer has done - much to simplify the subject.”—_School Guardian_. - - “Still another primer of botany! Well, we cannot have too many, - provided all are as good as this one.”—_The Inquirer_. - - * * * * * - -POETICAL READER FOR THE USE OF SCHOOLS. Arranged on an entirely new -principle, with Illustrations specially done for the work. In Two Parts, -each. 1s. 3d. Or in sections separately. - - OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. - - “The editor of these two little volumes has managed to strike out an - entirely new line for his pupils, and one which scarcely at any point - crosses the beaten track. . . . To many readers besides - school-children his volumes will present all the charms of novelty. - The compiler has evidently a large acquaintance with the poetical - literature of our country, and an excellent ear for the music of - poetry. . . . The work is therefore one of exceptional - interest.”—_School Board Chronicle_. - - * * * * * - -AN ENGLISH GRAMMAR FOR SCHOOLS. Adapted to the Requirements of the -Revised Code. In Three Parts. Price 2d. each, or complete in one cover, -6s. - - * * * * * - - *** _Adopted by the London School Board_. - -FIRST NATURAL HISTORY READER. For Standard II. In accordance with the -requirements of the Revised Code. Beautifully Illustrated. Crown 8vo., -cloth. 9d. - - “Written in a simple and pleasant style.”—_School Guardian_. - - “The woodcuts, which are to be found on every page, will make the - lessons pleasant to the scholars, and the text is wisely put in a - semi-conversational form, calculated to induce intelligent - reading.”—_Publisher’s Circular_. - - * * * * * - -THE HOUSE PURCHASERS GUIDE: Practical Hints for all Householders. By -FREDERICK SNELLING. Demy 16mo., Cloth limp. 9d. - - * * * * * - -A CUP OF COFFEE. Illustrated. Fcap. 8vo., boards. 1s. - - “This pleasant gossiping monograph . . . light and genial - throughout.”—_Daily Chronicle_. - - * * * * * - -THE HISTORY OF RASSELAS, Prince of Abyssinia. By SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D. -A new edition, small crown 8vo. 1s. - - - - -LIST OF BOOKS ARRANGED IN ORDER OF PRICE. - - £ _s._ _d._ -Epic of Kings. Edition de Luxe. Artists’ 3 3 0 -Proofs. signed and numbered. Parchment -— Etchings on India paper, unsigned. 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By Sarah Tytler. - -Future Work of Free Trade. - -Gudrun, Beowulf & Roland. - -House by the Works. - -Human Voice, The. - -Industrial Curiosities. - -I’ve been A’Gipsying. - -Old Faiths in New Light. - -Oriental Carpets. - -Ottilie. By Vernon Lee. - -Plant Life. By Edward Step. - -Poems and Ballads. - -Prince of the 100 Soups. - -Settling Day. - -Shipwrecked Mariner. Yearly Vols. - -Treasure Book of Consolation. - -“Lives Worth Living” Series: - - Leaders of Men. - - Wise Words and Loving Deeds. - - Master Missionaries. - - Labour and Victory. - - Heroic Adventure. - - - -3s. - - -Illustrated Poetry Book. Gilt edges. - - - -2s. 6d. - - -American Dishes. - -Beauties and Frights. - -Illustrated Poetry Book. Cloth extra. - -Margaret the Moonbeam. - -Molinos: Golden Thoughts. - -Off Duty. - -Vers de Société and Poetry. - -Ways to Fortune. - -Army Examination Series: - - I. Geometrical Drawing. - - II. Manual of French Grammar. - - III. Geography Questions. - - - -2s. - - -Dr. Johnson. - -John Wiclif. - -Table Talk of Martin Luther. - - - -1s. 6d - - -Dan Stapleton’s Last Race. - -Starry blossoms. - - - -1s. 3d. - - -Poetical Reader. Two parts, each 1_s._ 3_d._ - - - -1s. - - -Children’s Bouquet. - -Cup of Coffee. - -Fernery and Aquarium. Cloth extra. - -History of Rasselas. - -Illust. Cat. of Roy. Society of Painters in Water Colours. - -Principles to Start With. - -River Holiday, A. - -Sister Edith’s Probation. - -Stops. By Paul Allardyre. - -Winmore and Co. - -Half-Holiday Handbooks: - - I. Kingston and District. - - II. Round Reigate. - - III. Dorking and District. - - IV. Round Richmond. - - V. Geol. Rambles round London. - - VI. Round Tunbridge Wells. - - VII. Greenwich & District. - - VIII. From Croydon to North Downs. - - IX. Round Bromley and District. - - X. Round Sydenham, &c. - - XI. Wimbledon, &c. - - • Epping Forest & District. - - • Hampstead and District. - - • Guildford and District. - - • _These are in preparation_. - - - -9d. - - -Adulteration of Food. - -Bath, The, and Bathing. - -Fernery & Aquarium. Paper cover. - -First Natural Hist. Reader. - -House Purchaser’s Guide. - -Half-Holiday Handbooks Sd.: - - For List, _see_ Books at 1_s._ - - - -7d. - - -Early Lessons in Botany. - - - -6d. - - -English Grammar. - -Fernery & Aquarium. 2 pts., each 6_d._ - -Genesis the Third. Swd. - -Shipwrecked Manner. Quarterly Parts. - - * * * * * - - LONDON: T. FISHER UNWIN, 26, PATERNOSTER SQUARE, E.C. - - - - -FOOTNOTES. - - -{161} “Our GIPSY CHILDREN.—(To the Editor of the _Daily News_.)—Sir, I -counted to-day at the great Oxford Fair over two hundred and twenty vans -and covered carts, in each of which there would be an average of four -children and two men and women living and huddling together regardless of -every principle of decency. In many cases filth, dirt, and ignorance -prevailed to an alarming extent. Not a few of the poor women and -children exhibited signs of their having been in close warfare with rough -treatment. Not five per cent. of the thousand human beings could read -and write a sentence. What a farce upon our Christianity and -civilization it is to have this mass of human beings living actually in -the centre of learning, religious influences, and civilization. We have -Bibles, ministers, colleges, sanitary officers, and education inspectors -on every hand, and no power but the police-man exerting any influence -over our poor lost wanderers. What I want is that their thirty thousand -children should receive a free education—as I propose in an amending Bill -to meet the case of the canal children—and their vans registered and -brought under the influence of the sanitary officers on a simple plan. -The gipsies themselves will hail a measure of this kind with considerable -delight.” - -This letter brought forth a reply, to which I rejoined as follows: - -“Your correspondent’s repudiation of my statements in your issue of the -5th inst. does not alter the facts—not ‘ideas’—which were given to me by -the travellers themselves in broad daylight in the midst of a pouring -rain, with the object of getting their condition improved, not by winking -and blinking at the evil and allowing it to grow into a more dangerous -sore, to be dealt with by the policeman, but to be faced by extending the -blessings of a free education to all travelling children, and bringing -sanitation to their homes. His statements about immorality have been -manufactured by himself; but as he has been good enough to take my -references and weave them into a cap which fits, I must allow him the -pleasure of wearing it. The sad facts, seen by myself, in my possession, -in addition to those published in my ‘Gipsy Life,’ will most assuredly -come to light some day. With reference to his remarks about no gipsy -vans being at Oxford fair, this is absolutely untrue. I look upon all as -gipsies who, with gipsy blood in their veins, are tramping the country, -hawking and adopting gipsy usages, customs, slang, and ‘rokering,’ if -only slightly. The fact is the old-fashioned gipsies are dead, and their -places are being taken by increasing numbers of travellers who are not so -romantic, living in covered carts and waggons, whose wives sometimes -scrape together a little money in the summer to keep many of the men in -idleness in the winter. Your correspondent takes credit for the -education of the children in the winter. This he knows perfectly well is -what the law requires of those who have settled homes, but he is silent -about the worse than undoing the teachers’ work in the summer; thereby -placing the poor gipsy children upon the vagabond’s path to ruin. Of -course all are not alike. There are the usual good, bad, and indifferent -among them. The sad condition, morally, socially, and religiously, of -many of the poor gipsy and other travelling women and children is truly -horrible, and no amount of wincing at the shadow of redeeming features -which are to follow will stop me till the 70,000 canal and gipsy children -are educated by means of a free pass book, the hard lot of the women -lightened, and their travelling homes made more happy and conformable -with civilized notions and ideas; and if he is wise he will help forward -the work, with a willing hand.” - -{215} It is said that Lord Beaconsfield in his youthful days attended -the place of worship to which the poor girl referred; and it is also -stated that the bones of one of Cromwell’s generals lie smouldering in -the dust within or near the sacred precincts. Extremes meet sometimes. - -{329} On March the 5th, within three months of my visit to Yetholm, Mr. -Laidlaw writes me to say that the Yetholm gipsies are taking to settled -and constant employment at the farmers’ in the neighbourhood. This is -cheering news, and shows most clearly that my plans will work out -rightly, as I have told the gipsies at Yetholm and other places, without -any inconvenience to them worth naming. - -{339} I am much indebted to Mr. Joyce, Mr. F. W. Chesson, Mr. George -Bettany, Rev. A. E. Gregory, Mr. H. E. Duke, Mr. T. S. Townend, Mr. -Mallet, Mr. Guy, Mr. Fisher, Mr. W. H. Lucy, Messrs. Joshua and Joseph -Hatton, Mr. M. E. Stark, Mr. D. Gorrie, Mr. R. W. Boyle, Mr. W. Saunders, -Mr. E. Robbins, Emma Leslie, Mr. S. R. Bennett, Mr. B. G. Burleigh, Rev. -W. L. Lang, Mr. J. Moore, Mr. J. B. Marsh, Mr. J. D. Shaw, Mr. J. H. -Thomas, Mr. Kinnear, Rev. B. Burrows, Mr. G. J. Stevenson, M.A., Mr. J. -Tod, Rev. Mark Guy Pearse, L. T. Meade, Rev. Chas. Bullock, B.A., Mr. F. -Sherlock, Rev. Earnest Boys, M.A., Dr. Grosart, Mr. A. Locker, Rev. R. -Spears, Mr. B. Clarke, Mr. James Clarke, Mr. Clayden, Mr. W. Binns, Mr. -E. Walford, M.A., Mr. Lobb, Rev. J. Duncan, M.A. Messrs. Morgan and -Scott, Mr. Jean, Mr. R. Albery, Rev. B. Waugh, Dr. Parker, Mr. G. A. -Sala, Mr. W. Bradshaw, Mr. J. Lloyd, Dr. Westby Gibeon, Mr. Alex. H. -Grant, M.A., Dr. J. H. James, Mr. Ewing Ritchie, Mr. J. Hind, Mr. G. -Howell, Mr. J. Hutton, Mr. J. Latey, Mr. Maurice Adams, Mr. J. L. Nye, -Revs. E. Weldon, M.A., and Colin McKecknie, W. Y. Fullerton, C. H. Kelly, -G. Holden Pike, C. H. Spurgeon, Dr. Gregory, Rev. G. W. Weldon, M.A., -Rev. D. Darnell, M.A., Rev. Dr. Stephenson, Rev. Vernon J. Charlesworth, -Dr. Barnardo, Mr. Edward Lloyd, Mr. W. T. Stead, Miss Fredricks, Mr. G. -Barnet Smith, Mr. G. F. Millin, Mr. J. F. Rolph, Mr. W. T. E. Boscawen, -Mr. A. Watson, Mr. J. Russell, Mr. E. Step, Mr. Austin, Mr. Harry Hicks, -Dr. Griffith, Mr. Morrison Davidson, Mr. Massingham, Mr. S. Reeve, Rev. -W. M. Burnet, M.A., Rev. Ponsonby A. Lyons, Miss Nellie Hellis, Miss J. -Gordon Sutherland, “Una.” - - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK I'VE BEEN A GIPSYING*** - - -******* This file should be named 62432-0.txt or 62432-0.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/6/2/4/3/62432 - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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Weldon - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - - -Title: I've been a Gipsying - - -Author: George Smith - - - -Release Date: June 20, 2020 [eBook #62432] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK I'VE BEEN A GIPSYING*** -</pre> -<p>Transcribed from the 1885 T. Fisher Unwin edition by David -Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org</p> -<p style="text-align: center"> -<a href="images/cover.jpg"> -<img alt= -"Book cover" -title= -"Book cover" - src="images/cover.jpg" /> -</a></p> -<p style="text-align: center"> -<a href="images/fpb.jpg"> -<img alt= -"My visit to English Gipsy children on the outskirts of London" -title= -"My visit to English Gipsy children on the outskirts of London" - src="images/fps.jpg" /> -</a></p> -<h1>I’VE BEEN A GIPSYING</h1> -<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">OR</span><br -/> -<i>RAMBLES AMONG</i><br /> -<i>OUR GIPSIES AND THEIR CHILDREN</i><br /> -<i>IN THEIR TENTS AND VANS</i></p> - -<div class="gapspace"> </div> -<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">BY</span><br -/> -GEORGE SMITH <i>of Coalville</i>.</p> - -<div class="gapspace"> </div> -<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">POPULAR -EDITION, ILLUSTRATED.</span></p> -<p style="text-align: center"> -<a href="images/tpb.jpg"> -<img alt= -"Decorative graphic" -title= -"Decorative graphic" - src="images/tps.jpg" /> -</a></p> -<p style="text-align: center">London<br /> -T. FISHER UNWIN<br /> -26, PATERNOSTER SQUARE, E.C.<br /> -1885</p> -<p style="text-align: center"><i>All Rights Reserved</i>.</p> - -<div class="gapspace"> </div> -<h2><a name="pageiv"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -iv</span><i>Other Works by GEORGE SMITH of Coalville</i>.</h2> -<p>THE CRY OF THE CHILDREN FROM THE BRICKYARDS OF ENGLAND. -<span class="smcap">Haughton</span> & <span -class="smcap">Co</span>., Paternoster Row, London. Cloth -gilt, Illustrated, 3s. 6d.</p> -<p>OUR CANAL POPULATION. <span -class="smcap">Haughton</span> & <span -class="smcap">Co</span>. Cloth gilt, Illustrated, 3s. -6d.</p> -<p>GIPSY LIFE. <span class="smcap">Haughton</span> & -<span class="smcap">Co</span>. Cloth gilt, profusely -illustrated, 5s.</p> -<p>CANAL ADVENTURES BY MOONLIGHT. <span -class="smcap">Hodder & Stoughton</span>. Paternoster -Row, London. Cloth gilt, Illustrated, 3s. 6d.</p> - -<div class="gapspace"> </div> -<h2><a name="pagev"></a><span class="pagenum">p. v</span>To</h2> -<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT -HON. LORD ABERDARE.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF -STANHOPE.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF -SHAFTSBURY.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT HON. THE MARQUIS OF -TWEEDDALE.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF -ABERDEEN.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF DERBY, -K.G.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT HON. EARL GRANVILLE, -K.G.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT HON. THE MARQUIS OF SALISBURY, -K.G.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF -HARROWBY.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT HON. LORD CARRINGTON.</span><br -/> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT HON. EARL CAIRNS.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT HON. W. E. GLADSTONE, -M.P.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">(First Lord of the Treasury.)</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT HON. SIR STAFFORD NORTHCOTE, -M.P.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT HON. SIR WILLIAM V. HARCOURT, -M.P.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT HON. W. E. FORSTER, -M.P.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT HON. SIR RICHARD A. CROSS, -M.P.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT HON. SIR CHARLES W. DILKE, -M.P.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT HON. A. J. MUNDELLA, -M.P.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT HON. LORD JOHN MANNERS, -M.P.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT HON. GEN. SIR H. F. PONSONBY, -K.C.B.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT HON. LORD RICHARD GROSVENOR, -M.P.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT HON. LORD KENSINGTON, -M.P.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT HON. SIR M. H. BEACH, BART., -M.P.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT HON. JOSEPH CHAMBERLAIN, -M.P.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE HON. LORD RANDOLPH CHURCHILL, -M.P.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT HON. G. SCLATER-BOOTH, -M.P.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">SIR H. J. SELWIN-IBBETSON, BART., -M.P.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">SIR HENRY T. HOLLAND, BART., -M.P.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">SIR JAMES C. LAWRENCE, BART, -M.P.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">SIR E. A. H. LECHMERE, BART., -M.P.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">J. T. HIBBERT, ESQ., M.P. T. SALT, -ESQ., M.P.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">SAMUEL MORLEY, ESQ., M.P.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">JOHN WALTER, ESQ., M.P. WILLIAM -RATHBONE, ESQ., M.P.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">THOMAS BURT, ESQ., M.P. ALEX. -M</span><span class="GutSmall"><sup>C</sup></span><span -class="GutSmall">ARTHUR, ESQ., M.P.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">COL. W. T. MAKINS, M.P.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">A. PELL, ESQ., M.P. J. CORBETT, -ESQ., M.P.</span><br /> -<span class="GutSmall">HENRY BROADHURST, ESQ., M.P.; AND FRANK A. -BEVAN, ESQ.</span></p> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><span class="smcap">My Lords and Gentlemen</span>,—I -have taken the liberty of dedicating this volume to you as being -a few of the right-minded and right-hearted friends of neglected -children in our midst; and also to all well-wishers of our highly -favoured country, irrespective of sect, class, or party. -May its voice be heard!</p> -<p>With the cries of the gipsy children and many prayers, I send -it forth on its mission.</p> -<p style="text-align: right">Very respectfully yours,<br /> -GEORGE SMITH, <i>of Coalville</i>.</p> -<p><span class="smcap">Welton</span>, <span -class="smcap">Daventry</span>,<br /> - <i>Michaelmas</i>, 1884.</p> - -<div class="gapspace"> </div> -<p><a name="pagevi"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -vi</span>“<span class="smcap">General Sir Henry F. -Ponsonby</span> <i>has received the Queen’s commands to -thank Mr. George Smith for sending the copy of his book for Her -Majesty’s acceptance</i>, <i>which accompanied his -letter</i>.</p> -<p>“<span class="smcap">Privy Purse Office</span>, <span -class="smcap">Buckingham Palace</span>,<br /> - <i>June</i> 20, -1883.”</p> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p style="text-align: right">“10, <span -class="smcap">Downing Street</span>, <span -class="smcap">Whitehall</span>.<br /> -<i>May</i> 29, 1883.</p> -<p>“<i>Sir</i>,</p> -<p>“<i>I am directed by</i> <span class="smcap">Mr. -Gladstone</span> <i>to thank you for sending him your work -entitled</i> ‘<i>I’ve Been a Gipsying</i>.’</p> -<p style="text-align: right">“<i>I am Sir</i>,<br /> -<i>Your obedient servant</i>,<br /> -F. <span class="smcap">Leveson Gower</span>.</p> -<p>“<span class="smcap">George Smith</span>, <span -class="smcap">Esq</span>.”</p> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p style="text-align: right">“30, <span class="smcap">St. -James’s Place</span>, S.W.<br /> -<i>May</i> 25, 1883.</p> -<p>“<i>Dear Sir</i>,</p> -<p>“<i>Accept my best thanks for your book</i>, <i>which -cannot fail to be most interesting</i>, <i>both on account of the -subject and of the writer</i>. <i>Your good works will -indeed live after you</i>.</p> -<p style="text-align: right">“<i>I remain</i>, -<i>faithfully yours</i>,<br /> -<span class="smcap">Stafford H. Northcote</span>.</p> -<p><span class="smcap">“George Smith</span>, <span -class="smcap">Esq</span>., <i>of Coalville</i>.”</p> -<h2><a name="pagevii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -vii</span>PREFATORY NOTE.</h2> -<p><span class="smcap">My</span> strong sympathy with the gipsies -and their children would not allow of my following the example of -daisy-bank sentimental backwood gipsy writers, whose special -qualification is to flatter the gipsies with showers of -misleading twaddle to keep them in ignorance; but I have -preferred for my country’s welfare the path that has been -rough, steep, trying, and somewhat dangerous, and open to the -misconception of those little souls who look only at gipsy life -through tinted or prismatic spectacles.</p> -<p>I have throughout tried to give both the lights and shades of -a gipsy wanderer’s life, and must leave the result for God -to work out as He may think well.</p> -<p>There may be within these pages smiles for the simple, sighs -for the sad, tears for the sorrowful, joys for the joyous, ideas -for the author, simple hints for the thoughtful, problems for the -inquisitive, prayers for the prayerful, meditations for the -Christian, plans of action for the philanthropist, and -suggestions for the statesman and lawgiver.</p> -<p><a name="pageviii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. viii</span>The -Brickyard, Canal, and Gipsy Children—as well as my humble -self—will, as they grow up into a better state of things, -ever have cause to feel thankful for the kindly help rendered to -the cause by the publications of the various sections of the -Christian Church, including the Church of England, the -Presbyterians, the Wesleyans, Congregationalists, Baptists, -Primitive Methodists, Unitarians, Methodist Free Churches, -Methodist New Connexion, Roman Catholics, The Friends, Bible -Christians, The Religious Tract Society, Christian Knowledge -Society, Sunday School Union, Messrs. Cassell, and other -Publishers, the Weekly and Daily Press throughout the country, -almost without exception, together with the various editors and -other writers whose name is Legion.</p> -<h2>NOTE TO SECOND EDITION.</h2> -<p><span class="smcap">For</span> the additional illustrations in -this edition I owe my best thanks to Mr. W. Weblyn, the -proprietor and art editor of the <i>Illustrated Sporting and -Dramatic News</i>; Mr. A. Watson, the literary editor; and also -to the Rev. Edward Weldon, M.A., who accompanied me on one of my -visits to the gipsies to take the sketches, which appeared with -an encouraging and helpful notice on March 1, 1884.</p> -<p>I am also much indebted to the Editor of the <i>Pall Mall -Gazette</i> for his sketch and valuable help, and also to others -with kind heart and ready pen, whose names would fill a volume, -for assisting me to place upon the statute book the Canal Boats -Act of 1884, which will, when the whole of my plans are carried -out, bring education and protection to 60,000 canal and gipsy -children, with but little cost or inconvenience to the van and -cabin dwellers.</p> -<p style="text-align: right">GEORGE SMITH, <i>of -Coalville</i>.</p> -<p><i>Michaelmas</i>, 1884.</p> -<h2><a name="pageix"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -ix</span>CONTENTS.</h2> -<table> -<tr> -<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">I.</p> -<p style="text-align: center">SUNDAY RAMBLES AMONG THE GIPSIES -UPON PUMP HILL.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p>Gipsy Smith’s quarters—Gipsy Brown’s -wigwam—What I saw at the “Robin Hood”—Tea -at Pethers’—Pethers’ trials and reception by -his mother</p> -</td> -<td><p><i>p.</i> <span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page1">1</a></span>–20</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">II.</p> -<p style="text-align: center">RAMBLES AMONG THE GIPSIES IN EPPING -FOREST.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p>My companion “on the road”—The -widow—Telling fortunes—My reception—A youth who -had taken to gipsying—A drunken lot—The Forest -hotel—A gipsy hunt—Back to my lodgings</p> -</td> -<td><p><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page20">20</a></span>–33</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">III.</p> -<p style="text-align: center">RAMBLES AMONG THE GIPSIES UPON -WANSTEAD FLATS.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p>The Philanthropic Institution, Southwark—Mary -Carpenter—Mr. Stevenson—Meeting with “an old -fool”—A fire king—A showman’s -introduction—A school teacher—A gipsy convert’s -story—A flat’s row—My lodgings—Return -home</p> -</td> -<td><p><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page39">39</a></span>–59</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center"><a -name="pagex"></a><span class="pagenum">p. x</span>IV.</p> -<p style="text-align: center">RAMBLES AMONG THE GIPSIES AT -NORTHAMPTON.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p>“On the road”—Upon the -course—Seeds of thought—My salutation—A gipsy -drinking rum out of a coffin—A communist—A -gipsy’s earnings—A gipsy child—A gipsy -steam-horse owner’s tale</p> -</td> -<td><p><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page60">60</a></span>–74</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">V.</p> -<p style="text-align: center">RAMBLES AMONG THE GIPSIES AT -WARWICK RACES.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p>What I saw and heard in the train—My -lodgings—Germs of thought—A race after a -dog—Meeting with the gipsy Hollands and -Claytons—Alfred Clayton’s trials and change for -good—The death of his child—Meets with an educated -youth—Clayton begins to pray—Race-goers</p> -</td> -<td><p><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page75">75</a></span>–91</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">VI.</p> -<p style="text-align: center">RAMBLES AMONG THE GIPSIES AT -BOUGHTON GREEN.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p>Polls, Jims, and Sals—Drawn to the -Green—<i>Northampton Mercury</i>—Cowper’s -poem—History of the Green—Spectacle lane—Gipsy -murders—Rows—Captain Slash—Sights upon the -Green—Gipsy dodges—My lodgings—At -tea—Gipsy fight—Mine hostess sings—My bed</p> -</td> -<td><p><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page92">92</a></span>–121</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">VII.</p> -<p style="text-align: center">RAMBLES AMONG THE GIPSIES AT OXFORD -FAIR.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p>Woman and child in the arms of death—Tramping with -my loads—What I saw on the way—Travellers at -Paddington—Arriving at Oxford—What I saw on -Sunday—My lodging—Meet with Jenny Smith—Number -of gipsies at Oxford—Sights at Oxford—My visions -during the night—A gipsy showman—A walk with Nabob -Brown—Gipsy fairies—Gambling -stalls—Boscoe—Backsliders turned gipsies—My -last peep—Letter in <i>The Daily News</i>—A gipsy -teaching her children to pray</p> -</td> -<td><p><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page122">122</a></span>–164</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">VIII.</p> -<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Rambles among -the gipsies at hinckley</span>.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p>My tramp—A gipsy woman’s -hardships—Row—Gipsy horse-dealing—A gipsy -Smith—Salvation Army—My lodgings—<a -name="pagexi"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -xi</span>Aphorisms—A Sunday morning turn-out—Meeting -with the gipsies Bedman—Breakfast—A gipsy’s -creeds—Present-day gipsies—Burden’s poems</p> -</td> -<td><p><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page165">165</a></span>–196</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">IX.</p> -<p style="text-align: center">AMONG THE GIPSIES AT LONG -BUCKBY.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p>Romany—In the bye-lanes—By the side of the -canal—Aphorisms—In the meadows near Murcott, and what -I saw—Scissor-grinding gipsy—A gipsy with her -basket—A stolen child among the -gipsies—Friends—At the gate—Coronation -pole—G. Flash—Tear-fetching scene—An engineer -gipsy—His wife’s sufferings—Tramp from -Heckington to Spilsby</p> -</td> -<td><p><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page197">197</a></span>–225</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">X.</p> -<p style="text-align: center">RAMBLES AT BULWELL AND -NOTTINGHAM.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p>On the way to Leicester—My train experiences—A -Sunday evening at Leicester—My lodgings—Meeting with -gipsies Winters and Smith at Nottingham—A child -stolen—Congress papers—Return home—Gipsies -spreading disease—<i>Morning Post</i></p> -</td> -<td><p><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page226">226</a></span>–251</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">XI.</p> -<p style="text-align: center">RAMBLES AMONG THE GIPSIES AT -DAVENTRY AND BANBURY.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p>My companions—Meeting with gipsy Mott—Gipsy -horse-stealing—Gipsy showmen—Gipsy Smith’s -experiences—Start to Banbury—Gossip on the -road—Children’s revival at Byfield—My -lodgings—My hostess’s cats—My bed—What I -saw on the way to Banbury—Gipsy shows—Number of vans -attending Banbury fairs—Solo needed</p> -</td> -<td><p><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page252">252</a></span>–277</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">XII.</p> -<p style="text-align: center">SHORT EXCURSIONS AND RAMBLES.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p>Gipsy sham—On the way to Edinburgh—What I saw -at Leicester—Cherry Island—Hackney -Marshes—Bedford—Leicester fair—What others -say—Letter from Mr. Mundella—Essex quarter -sessions—Question put to the Government—How they -treat gipsies in Hungary—Question put to the Government -through Mr. Burt—My Bill—Visit to Turnham -Green—Fortune-telling—Gipsies round London</p> -</td> -<td><p><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page278">278</a></span>–303</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center"><a -name="pagexii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. xii</span>XIII.</p> -<p style="text-align: center">RAMBLES AMONG THE SCOTCH -GIPSIES.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p>Wanderings of the brain—My start from -Leicester—On the way to Carlisle—Germs of thought -grown on the way—Arrival at Kelso—My lodgings—A -cold night—Aphorisms—Start to Yetholm—Lovely -snow—Arrival at Yetholm—Leydon’s -poems—Introduction to Blythe—Parting—Meeting an -old gipsy—Gipsy queens—Return to my -quarters—Baird’s work—Child sold to the -gipsies—Gipsy frozen to the ground—What England has -done—What she ought to do—Poem: Zutilla</p> -</td> -<td><p><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page304">304</a></span>–338</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">APPENDIX A.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p>My plans <i>explained</i> and <i>objections</i> -answered</p> -</td> -<td><p><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page339">339</a></span>–351</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">APPENDIX B.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p>Letter to the Right Hon. Earl Aberdare</p> -</td> -<td><p><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page352">352</a></span>–355</p> -</td> -</tr> -</table> -<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.</h2> -<table> -<tr> -<td><p><span class="GutSmall">MY VISIT TO ENGLISH GIPSY CHILDREN -ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF LONDON</span> (<i>by E. Weldon</i>)</p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>Frontispiece</i></p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p><span class="GutSmall">A HOUSE-DWELLING GIPSY’S -WIGWAM NEAR LOUGHTON</span></p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page1">1</a></span></p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p><span class="GutSmall">INSIDE A HOUSE-DWELLING -GIPSY’S WIGWAM, PUMP HILL, EPPING FOREST</span></p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page7">7</a></span></p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p><span class="GutSmall">AN ENGLISH GIPSY COUNTESS ON THE -“LOOK-OUT”</span> (<i>by E. Weldon</i>)</p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page35">35</a></span></p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p><span class="GutSmall">TWO ENGLISH GIPSY PRINCESSES -“AT HOME”</span> (<i>by F. Weldon</i>)</p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page51">51</a></span></p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p><span class="GutSmall">AN ENGLISH GIPSY -DUCHESS—SMITH—“RHEUMATICKY AND -LAME”</span> (by <i>E. Weldon</i>)</p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page69">69</a></span></p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p><span class="GutSmall">THE “SWEETS” AND -“SOURS” OF GIPSY MARRIED LIFE</span> (<i>by E. -Weldon</i>)</p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page116">116</a></span></p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p><span class="GutSmall">“ON THE ROAD” TO OXFORD -FAIR</span></p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page123">123</a></span></p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p><span class="GutSmall">A SCISSOR-GRINDING GIPSY. -“SCISSORS TO GRIND”</span></p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page207">207</a></span></p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p><span class="GutSmall">GIPSY QUARTERS, PLAISTOW -MARSHES</span></p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page281">281</a></span></p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p><span class="GutSmall">AN ENGLISH GIPSY -KING—“KRÁLIS”—LYING IN WAIT IN HIS -PALACE, KRÁLISKO-KAIR</span> (<i>by E. Weldon</i>)</p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page283">283</a></span></p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p><span class="GutSmall">GIPSY WINTER QUARTERS, -YETHOLM</span></p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page321">321</a></span></p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p><span class="GutSmall">ESTHER FAA BLYTHE—A SCOTCH -GIPSY QUEEN</span></p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a -href="#page328">328</a></span></p> -</td> -</tr> -</table> -<p style="text-align: center"> -<a href="images/p1b.jpg"> -<img alt= -"A house-dwelling Gipsy’s wigwam near Loughton" -title= -"A house-dwelling Gipsy’s wigwam near Loughton" - src="images/p1s.jpg" /> -</a></p> -<h2><a name="page1"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 1</span>A Sunday -Ramble among the Gipsies upon Pump Hill and Loughton.</h2> -<p><span class="smcap">Sunday</span>, April 23, 1882, opened with -a wet morning. The clouds were thick and heavy. The -smoke seemed to hover, struggle and rise again as if life -depended on its mounting higher than the patched and broken roofs -of London houses. The rain came down drearily, dribbly, and -drizzly. It hung upon my garments with saturating -tendencies, and I really got wet through before I was aware of -it. The roads were very uncomfortable for feet in -non-watertight boots. Umbrellas were up. Single -“chaps,” and others in “couples” were -wending their way across Victoria Park. The school bells -were chiming out in all directions “Come to school,” -“It is time,” “Do not delay,” “Come -to school.” In response to the bell-calls the little -prattlers and toddlers were hurrying along to school. Their -big sisters, with “jerks and snatches,” frequently -called out, “Now, then, come along; we shall be too late; -singing will be over, and if it is I’ll tell your -mother.”</p> -<p>At Victoria Park Station the platelayers were at work, and -when I inquired the cause, I was told that the Queen’s <a -name="page2"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 2</span>carriages were -to pass over the line to Loughton at eleven o’clock -“to try the metals,” and to see that the platform was -back enough to allow sufficient space for the footboards of the -royal carriages. In some cases there was not sufficient -space, and the line had to be swung a little to enable the -carriages to pass.</p> -<p>At Stratford I had a few minutes to wait, and a little -conversation with the stationmaster soon satisfied me that he was -an observing and common-sense Christian, with a kind heart and -good wishes for the poor gipsy children.</p> -<p>I arrived at Loughton in time to join in the morning service -conducted by the Wesleyans in a neat iron chapel. The -service was good, plain, and homely, and as such I enjoyed -it. Of course, being a stranger in “these -parts,” I was eyed o’er with “wondering -curiosity.” In the chapel there was a tall old man -who sat and stood pensively, with his head bending low, during -the services, and whom, without much hesitation, I set down as a -gipsy. He did not seem to enjoy the service. On -inquiry afterwards, I found that my surmise was correct, and that -the tall man was a gipsy Smith, of some seventy winters, who was -born under a tent upon Epping Forest, amongst the brambles, -furze, and heather, with the clouds for a shelter from the -sun’s fierce rays in summer, and the slender tent covering, -with the dying embers of a stick fire, to keep body and soul -together in the midst of the wintry blasts, drifting hail, snow, -and sleet, and keen biting frosts to “nip the -toes.”</p> -<p>After climbing the steep and rugged hill, I made my way to -find out a cocoa-nut gambler, who once gave me an invitation to -call upon him when I happened to pass that way. With much -ado and many inquiries I found the man and his wife just -preparing to go with a donkey and a heavy load of nuts to some -secluded spot a few miles away, to “pick up a little -money” for their “wittles.” My visit -having ended in moonshine, I now began in earnest to <a -name="page3"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 3</span>hunt up the -gipsies. A few minutes’ wandering among the bushes -and by-lanes brought me upon a group of half-starved, dirty, -half-naked, lost little gipsy children, who were carrying sticks -to their wretched dwellings, which were nothing better than -horribly stinking, sickening, muddy wigwams.</p> -<p>On making my way through mud and sink-gutter filth, almost -over “boot-tops,” I came upon a <i>duelling</i> -which, were I to live to the age of Methuselah, I could never -forget.</p> -<p>Sitting upon an old three-legged chair, and with a bottom -composed of old rags, cord, and broken rushes, was a bulky, -dirty, greasy, idle-looking fellow, who might never have been -washed in his life. I put a few questions to him about the -weather and other trifling matters; but the answers I got from -him were such that I could not understand. To -“roker” Romany was a thing he could not do. -Mumble and grumble were his scholastic attainments.</p> -<p>At the door stood a poor, old, worn-out pony, which they said -was as “dodgy and crafty as any human being. It was a -capital animal in a cart, but would not run at fairs with -children on its back. Immediately you put a child upon its -back it stood like a rock, and the devil could not move -it.”</p> -<p>In the room were five children as ragged as wild goats, as -filthy as pigs, and quite as ignorant. On an old -“squab bed”—the only bed in the room—sat -a big, fat, aged gipsy woman, on a par with the man and -children. A young gipsy of about eighteen years stood at -the bottom of the squab bed enjoying his Sunday dinner. In -one hand he held the dirty plate, and the other had to do duty in -place of a knife and fork. Of what the dinner was composed -I could not imagine. It seemed to be a kind of mixture -between meat, soup, fish, broth, roast and <a -name="page4"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 4</span>fry, thickened -with bones and flavoured with snails and bread. Upon a very -rickety stool sat a girl with a dirty bare bosom suckling a poor -emaciated baby, whose father nobody seemed to know—and, if -report be true, the less that is said about paternity the -better. In this one little hole, with a boarded floor, -covered with dirt and mud at least half an inch thick, one bed -teeming with vermin, which I saw with my own eyes, and walls -covered with greasy grime, there were a man, woman, girl, young -man, and five children, huddling together on a Christian Sabbath, -in Christian England, within a stone’s throw of a Christian -Church and the Church of England day and Sunday school. -None of them had ever been in a day or Sunday school or place of -worship in their lives. They were as truly heathens as the -most heathenish in the world, and as black as the blackest beings -I have ever seen. The only godly ray manifest in this dark -abode was that of gratitude and thankfulness. A pleasing -trait is this. It was a vein embedded in their nature that -only required the touch of sympathy, brotherhood, and kindness to -light up the lives of these poor lost creatures living in -darkness. Natural beauty I saw none inside; but the marks -of sin were everywhere manifest. Just outside this -miserable hive, notwithstanding the stench, the bees were buzzing -about seeking in vain for honey, the butterflies were winging -fruitlessly about trying to find flowers to settle upon; and -across the beautiful forest valley the cuckoo was among the trees -piping forth its ever beautiful, lovely, enchanting, and -never-tiring “cuck-coo,” “cuck-coo,” -“cuck-coo;” throstles, linnets, blackbirds, and -woodpeckers were hopping about from tree to tree within a -stone’s throw, sending forth heavenly strains, echoing and -re-echoing in the distance among the wood foliage on this bright -spring Sunday afternoon. I could almost hear with Dr. <a -name="page5"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 5</span>James Hamilton, -in his “Pearl of Parables” (<i>Sunday at Home</i>, -1878), a poor gipsy girl singing with tears in her -eyes—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Some angel in the land of love<br /> - For love should pity me,<br /> -And draw me in like Noah’s dove<br /> - From wastes of misery.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>The lark echoes in the air—</p> -<blockquote><p>“But I would seek on earth below<br /> - A space for heaven to win,<br /> -To cheer one heart bowed down by woe,<br /> - To save one soul from sin.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>I left this hut, after taking a breath of fresh air, for -another gipsy <i>dwelling</i> round the corner, picking my way -among the masses of filth as well as I could. Here another -sight, not quite so sickening, but equally heartrending, -presented itself. A gipsy woman was squatting upon the -filthy boards, the father was sitting upon a rickety old chair -without any bottom in it; <i>i.e.</i>, there were a few cords -tied across which served to hold up one or two dirty rags, and -these were sunk so low that any one sitting upon the chair could -feel nothing but the rims, which were not at all -comfortable. Round the man and woman were six children of -all ages and sizes, partially dressed in filthy rags and old -shoes, which seemed to have been picked out of the ashes upon -Hackney Marshes, all of which were much too large for their -little feet, and were stuffed with rags. One little girl -had a pair of cast-off woman’s shoes, possessing little -sole and almost less “uppers.”</p> -<p>The gipsy father was partially blind through having been in so -many gipsy combats. A kick over the eyes had not only -nearly blinded him, but as B. said, “I feel at times as if -my senses were nearly gone. Thank the Lord, I can see best -when the sun shines clear.” On my <a -name="page6"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 6</span>approaching -nearer to where they were sitting the man got up and kindly -offered me his <i>chair</i>, which I accepted, notwithstanding -the disagreeable surroundings. On the walls of their -<i>dwelling</i> pieces of pictures and old newspapers were -pasted. There were parts of <i>The British Workman</i>, -<i>Band of Hope Review</i>, <i>Old Jonathan</i>, <i>The Cottager -and Artizan</i>, <i>Churchman’s Almanack</i>; in fact, they -seemed to have upon the greasy walls a scrap of some of the -pictorial publications published by the Wesleyans, Baptists, -Church of England, the Unitarians, Congregationalists, the -Religious Tract Society, Cassell, Sunday School Union, Haughton -and Co., Partridge and Co., Dr. Barnardo, and others. I -said to the poor man, “This is a very tumbledown old -place.” “Yes,” he said, “people say -that it has been built nine hundred years; and I believe it has, -for the man who owns it now says he cannot remember it being -built.” I said, “How old do you think the man -is who owns it?” He answered, “Well, I should -think that he is fifty, for he has great -grand-children.” Their only table consisted of an old -box, upon which, in a wicker basket, there were a young jay and a -blackbird which the gipsy woman was trying to rear. As the -young birds opened their beaks, almost wide enough to swallow -each other, the woman kept thrusting into their mouths large -pieces of stinking meat of some kind, about which I did not ask -any particulars. These little gipsy attractions and -observations being over, I began to inquire about things -concerning their present and eternal welfare. I found on -inquiry that the only food this family had had to live upon -during the last two days had been a threepenny loaf and half an -ounce of tea. When I asked them what they did for a living -they could scarcely tell me. The man said, “I go out -sometimes with a basket and a few oranges in it, and I picks up a -bit of a living in this way. Some of the people are pretty -good to me. As a rule we begs our <a name="page7"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 7</span>clothes. Occasionally I catches -a rabbit or picks up a hedgehog. If I can scrape together a -shilling to buy oranges I generally manages pretty well for that -day. Our firing does not cost us anything, and in -summer-time the young uns picks up a lot of birds’ eggs out -of the forest, which are very nice for them if they are not too -far hatched.” Just at this juncture a practical -demonstration took place as to how they dealt with the -birds’ eggs. One of the boys, I should think of about -seven years, came with a nest of blackbirds’ -eggs—poor little fellow he was no doubt hungry, for he had -had no Sunday dinner—which he placed into his -mother’s hands. The mother was not long before she -began to crack them, and into the children’s mouths they -went, half hatched as they were, just as she fed the young -jay. I really thought that one of the youngsters would have -been choked by one of the half-hatched young blackbirds. -With a little crushing, cramming, and tapping on the back the -poor Sunday dinnerless gipsy child escaped the sad consequences I -at one time feared would be the result. To see a woman -forcing food of this description down a child’s throat is a -sight I never want to see again. Hunger opens a mouth that -turns sickening food into dainty morsels. None of these -poor gipsy children had ever lisped a godly prayer or read a word -in their lives. The father said he would be glad to send -the children to school if they would be received there and they -could go free. The whole of these children were born in a -tent upon a bit of straw among the low bushes of Epping -Forest. Some in the depth of severe winter, others in the -midst of drenching rains, and even when the larks were singing -overhead, with “roughish nurses and midwives” as -attendants.</p> -<p style="text-align: center"> -<a href="images/p7b.jpg"> -<img alt= -"Inside a house-dwelling gipsy’s wigwam, Pump Hill, Epping -Forest" -title= -"Inside a house-dwelling gipsy’s wigwam, Pump Hill, Epping -Forest" - src="images/p7s.jpg" /> -</a></p> -<p>I found that this “gipsy-man” had been a -Sunday-school scholar, but somehow or other—he did not seem -desirous of saying how—he got among a gang of gipsies in <a -name="page8"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 8</span>early -life. He left his praying mother for the life of a vagabond -among tramps, with a relish for hedgehogs, snails, and diseased -pork. He said he liked hedgehog-pie better than any other -food in the world. “Two hedgehogs will make a good -pie,” he said. He also said that he was once with a -tribe of gipsy tramps, and he laid a wager that he “could -make them all sick of hedgehogs.” They told him he -could not. The result was he set off to a place he well -knew in the neighbourhood and caught twenty-one hedgehogs. -These were all cooked, some in clay and others turned into soup, -and all the gipsies who ate them “were made sick, excepting -an old woman of the name of Smith.”</p> -<p>He next told me how to cook snails, which he liked very much, -and wished he had a dish before him then. The snails, he -said, “were boiled, and then put in salt and water, after -which they were boiled again, and then were ready for -eating.” Feeling desirous of changing the subject, I -reverted to his Sunday-school experience, and asked if he could -remember anything he once read (he could not now read a sentence) -or sung. All he could remember, he said, was “In my -father’s house are many mansions,” and a bit of a -song—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Here we suffer grief and pain,<br /> -Here we meet to part again;<br /> - In heaven we part no more.<br /> -Oh! that will be joyful.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>My heart bled, and I felt that I could have wept tears of -sorrow as I sat in the midst of this family of our present-day -gipsies. In these two tumble-down wooden dwellings there -were two men and three women and twelve children growing up in -the densest ignorance, barbarism, and sin.</p> -<p>I gave the mother and children some money wherewith to buy -some food, and I left them with gratitude beaming <a -name="page9"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 9</span>out of their -dirty faces. In going down the hill, a couple of hundred -yards from this hotbed of sin, iniquity, and wretchedness, I came -upon a party of about one hundred and fifty beautifully dressed -and happy Sunday-school children tripping along joyfully with -their teachers by their side to an afternoon service in the -church close by. I could almost imagine them to be singing -as I looked into their cheery faces, and nothing would have given -me greater pleasure than to have sung out with them -lustily—</p> -<blockquote><p style="text-align: center">“Merrily, -merrily, onward we go.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>The five minutes’ trotting down the hill with this -youthful encouraging band brought my forty years’ joyous -and soul-saving episodes of Sunday-school life vividly before me, -which had the soothing effect of temporarily shaking off my late -hour’s experiences with the gipsies, and causing my heart -to dance for joy.</p> -<p>A little later on I took the main road to High Beach and the -“Robin Hood.” I had not got far upon the way -before I was accosted by three semi-drunken, -“respectable”-looking roughs, asking all sorts of -insulting questions; and because I could not point them to a -“California,” but rather to a “Bedlam,” I -really thought that I should have to “lookout for -squalls.” They began in earnest to close round -me. By a little manœuvring, and the fortunate -appearance of two or three gentlemen, I eluded their -clutches.</p> -<p>The road up the hill to the “Robin Hood” was -literally crowded with travellers, foolish and gay; cabs and -carriages teemed with passengers of the gentle and simple sort, -roughs and riffraff, went puffing and panting along. There -were the thick and thin, tall and short, weak and strong, all -jostling together as on Bank Holidays. I could hardly -realize the fact that it was an English Sunday. In one -trap, drawn by a poor bony animal scarcely able to crawl, there -were fifteen men, women, and children, shouting <a -name="page10"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 10</span>and screaming -as if it were a fair day—wild, mad, and frantic with swill -to their heart’s core. The gipsies were in full -swing. There were no less than fifty horses and donkeys -running, galloping, trotting, and walking, with men, women, and -children upon their backs. Half-tipsy girls seemed to have -lost all sense of modesty and shame. The long sticks of the -gipsies laid heavily upon the bones of the poor animals set the -women and girls “a-screeching” and shouting, sounds -which did not rise very high before they were turned into -God’s curses.</p> -<p>I knew many of the gipsies, and, contrary to what I had -expected, I did not receive one cross look. The eldest son -of a gipsy, named Pether, to whom I shall refer later on, took me -into his tea, gingerbeer, and pop tent; and nothing would satisfy -him but that I must have some gingerbeer and cake, and while I -was eating he handed me his fat baby to look at. It -certainly bade fair to become a bigger man than General Tom -Thumb. I touched the baby’s cheek and put a small -coin in its tiny hand. I also spoke a word of genuine -praise to the young gipsy mother on account of the good start she -was making, and afterwards I shook hands with the gipsy pair and -bade them good-bye. To Pether’s credit be it said -that, although he owns horses, swings, cocoa-nuts, &c., he -never employs them on Sundays. His gipsy father had told -him more than once that “there is no good got by it. -I have noticed it more than once, what’s got by cocoa-nuts, -swings, and horses on Sunday, the devil fetches before dinner on -Monday.”</p> -<p>Upon the forest, on God’s day of rest, there were no -fewer than from five hundred to one thousand gipsy children, not -a dozen of whom could read and write a sentence, or had ever been -in a place of worship.</p> -<p>In going to my friend’s, the house-dwelling gipsy, for -tea, in response to his kind invitation, that we might <a -name="page11"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 11</span>have a chat -together, I called to see a gipsy woman of the name of B— -whom I knew, as I also did her parents, who had recently come to -live in the place. When I arrived at the wretched, -miserable, dirty abode, I found that her gipsy husband had been -sent for, and was now “doing fourteen -years”—for what offence I did not attempt to find -out—and that his place had been filled by another idle -scamp; and, if reports be true, he has also been sent for -“to do double duty,” and whose place also has been -filled up in the social circle with another gipsy. This -gipsy woman has entered into a fourth alliance, and, as one of -the gipsies recently said, she has really been -“churched” this time. I saw much, smelt a deal, -but said little; and, after giving the poor child of six a -trifle, I made haste to join my friends the gipsies at tea.</p> -<p>When I was invited, my friend Pether said: “You could -not mistake the house. Over the door it reads, ‘J. -Pether, the Ratcatcher and Butcher.’ If you ask any -one in Loughton for ‘Scarecrow,’ -‘<i>Poshcard</i>,’ ‘Shovecard,’ or -‘Jack Scare,’ they will direct you to my house. -I am known for miles round.” Of course I had no -difficulty in finding my friend, with so many names and -titles. On arriving at the door my big friend came hobbling -along to open it. If my little hand had been a rough, big, -cocoa-nut that he had been going to “shie” with -vengeance at somebody’s head, he could not have given it a -firmer grip. Fortunately he did not break any bones in -it. I had not been long seated upon the bench before his -“poorly” wife came downstairs. The best cups -and saucers were set on a coverless table, and the cake, which -was a little too rich, was placed thereon. By the side of -the fireplace upon the floor was their poor crippled son of about -sixteen years, who had lost the use of his arms and legs, but had -retained his senses. Tea was handed out to <a -name="page12"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 12</span>us, and I did -fairly well. I enjoyed the tea, although I felt pained and -sorrowful to see a sharp youth confined at home under such sad -circumstances. They did their best to make me happy and -comfortable. At our table sat one of Mr. Pether’s -sons, who was in the militia. He had a kindly word for -almost everybody in the regiment to which he belonged, especially -for the Duke of Connaught, who had a kindly word for him. -The Duke asked him one day if he would like to join the Line, to -which young Pether said “No.” “The Duke -is a gentleman, and pleases everybody,” said Pether, the -young militiaman. “Verily, this is a truth spoken by -a gipsy soldier,” I said to Pether senior. -“Yes, governor,” said Mr. Pether; “and the -Queen is a good woman, too.” To which I replied, -“There could not be a better; she is the best Queen that -England ever saw.” This brought a smile upon their -faces over our hot gipsy tea.</p> -<p>Tea was now over, and our chat began. The first thing I -said to Mr. Pether was, “How is it that you have become a -gipsy with so many names?” This question called forth -a laugh and a groan. A laugh, because it brought to his -mind so many reminiscences of bygone days; and a groan, because -his gouty leg had an extra twinge from some cause or other, which -caused him to pull a wry face for a minute. I could not -help smiling, when with one breath he laughed out, “Ah, ah, -ah, ah!” and in the next he cried out, “Oh, oh! it -almost makes me sweat.” “Well, to begin at the -beginning, sir, my father was a butcher and farmer, and he sent -me early to London—I think before I was nine years -old—to be with an uncle, who was a butcher. I was -with him for a few years, but he was not very kind. He used -to put me to the worst and coldest kind of work, winter or -summer; and I was often put upon by his man and a young chap he -had. The chap used to plague me terribly, and call me all -sorts of names; and I was a lad <a name="page13"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 13</span>that was tempery and peppery, and -would not be put on by anybody. One day the chap begun to -leather me with a cow’s tongue, which cuts like a knife, -upon the bare skin. He leathered me so much that blood ran -down my arms and face. This got my blood up, and while he -was bending to pick up something I seized the poleaxe that stood -close by and struck him when no one was near with the sharp edge -of it upon his head, the same as I would a bullock, and felled -him to the ground like an ox. As soon as I saw blood -flowing I made sure that I had killed him, and, without waiting -to pick up my clothes, I ran off as fast as my legs would carry -me, without stopping till I got to Harrow-on-the-Hill. I -dirted my clothes and coat and mangled them so that nobody could -tell me, and I changed my name to ‘Poshcard’ for a -time. I then began to wander about the lanes, and to beg, -and to sleep in the barns and under stacks on the roadside. -Sometimes I could pick up a job at butchers’, doing what -they call ‘running guts’ for sausages and black -pudding. My clothes at times were all alive. When -anybody gave me an old coat or shirt, socks or boots, I never -took them off till they dropped off. I have slept under -ricks in the winter till the straw has been frozen to my -feet. Hundreds of times I have slept between the cows for -warmth, while they have lain down in the sheds and -cow-houses. I used to creep in between them softly and -snoozle the night away. The warmth of the cows has kept me -alive hundreds of times. I have at times almost lived on -carrots. When blackberries were ripe I used to eat many of -them; in fact, I used to steal peas and beans, or any mortal -thing that I came near. Sometimes I fell in with -drovers. I have got in the winter-time under a hedge and -nibbled a turnip for my Sunday dinner. I was for some time -with a farmer, and used to mind his cattle, and he got to like me -so much that he used to place confidence in me. He <a -name="page14"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 14</span>would trust -me with anything. One time he sent me to sell a calf for -him, but instead of returning with the money I ran away and -bought a suit of clothes with it. I durst not face him -again after that. For fourteen years I was wandering up and -down England in this way, daily expecting to be taken up for -murder.</p> -<p>“I then joined a gang of gipsies of the name of Lee, and -with them I have lied, lived, stole, and slept, more like a dog -than a human being. I used to run donkeys all day, and when -the old woman came home from fortune-telling she would give me -two pieces of bread and butter from somebody’s table for my -dinner and tea which some of the servant girls had given to -her. Among the gipsies I used to be reckoned the very -devil. I have fought hundreds of times, and was never -beaten in my life. The time when I was more nearly beaten -than any other was with my brother-in-law, a gipsy. We -fought hard and fast, up and down, for nearly an hour, and then -we gave it up as both of us being as good as each other. I -have had both my arms broken, legs broken, shoulder-blades -broken, and kicked over my head till I have been senseless, in -gipsy rows. Oh! sir, I could tell you a lot more, and I -will do so sometime.”</p> -<p>This terrible recital of facts—of the cruelty, -hardships, wrong-doing of present-day gipsy life—almost -caused my hair to stand on an end whilst he related the horrors -of backwood and daylight gipsyism in our midst.</p> -<p>I asked Mr. Pether if the gipsies were on the increase in the -country so far as he knew. He answered—</p> -<p>“I should think they are very much. Gipsies seem -to be in the lanes everywhere. I have seen as many as five -hundred tents and vans in the forest before now at one -time. There are not so many now, as you know; but they have -spread all over the country, because the rangers would not allow -the gipsies to stay upon the forest all <a -name="page15"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 15</span>night. -Some of the gipsies have made heaps of money by -fortune-telling. Lord bless you! I knew the family of gipsy -Smiths, they seemed to have so much money that they did not know -what to do with it. They seemed to have gold and diamond -rings upon all their fingers. They took their money to -America, and I have not heard what has become of them -since. Some of the family are left about the forest now as -poor as rats. The gipsies are a rum lot, I can assure -you. I do not know a dozen gipsies to-day who can read and -write, and none of them ever go, or think of going, to church or -chapel.” “Have you ever been in a place of -worship since you ran away from home?” -“No,” said “Scare,” “except when I -went with my old woman to be wed; and thank God I can show the -‘marriage lines.’ Not many of the gipsies can -show their ‘marriage lines,’ I can assure you. -I have not been in either church or chapel, except then, for -nearly fifty years.” I said, “Did you ever -pray?” “No,” said “Scare,” -“but I swears thousands of times. Mother prays for me -and that has to do. She’s a good old -creature.”</p> -<p>I said, “Now Mr. Pether, from what cause did you receive -the name of ‘Scare’?” “Well, to -tell you the truth,” said Mr. “Scare,” -“at the edge of the forest there was a little low -public-house, kept by a man and his wife, which we gipsies used -to visit. In course of time the man died, and the old woman -used to always be crying her eyes up about the loss of her poor -‘Bill;’ at least, she seemed to be always crying -about him, which I knew was not real—she did not care a rap -about the old man—so I thought I would have a lark with the -old girl. In the yard there were a lot of fowls, and just -before the old girl went to bed—and I knew which bed she -slept in—I put up the window and turned one of the fowls -into the room and then pulled it gently down again, and I then -stood back in the yard. Presently the old girl, I could see -by the <a name="page16"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -16</span>light, was making for her bedroom, which was on the -ground floor. No sooner had the old girl opened the door -than the fowl began ‘scare!’ ‘scare!’ -‘scare!’ ‘scare!’ and -‘flusker’ and ‘flapper’ about the -room. The old lady was so frightened that she dropped the -candle upon the floor and ran out in the yard calling out -‘Murder!’ ‘murder!’ -‘murder!’ Of course I dared not be seen and -sneaked away. Early next morning I went to the house and -called for some beer. No sooner had I entered than the old -girl told me that she had seen her husband’s ghost on the -bed, and it had almost frightened her wild. It had made -every hair upon her head stand upright. It was her -husband’s ghost, she was sure it was, she said; and nobody -could make her believe it was not; and from that night the old -woman would not sleep in the room again. She very soon left -the public-house, and one of my friends took it. From this -circumstance I have gone in the name of ‘Jack -Scare.’” “Well, what have you to say -about the name ‘Scarecrow,’ by which you are -known?” “Scarecrow,” said Mr. Pether, -“was given to me after I had fetched, in the dead of the -night, a bough of the tree upon which a man had hung himself a -few days before. It arose in this way. A man hung -himself in a wood through some girl, and after he was cut down -and buried a gipsy I knew begged or bought his clothes for a -little—I could not say what the amount was, I think five -shillings—and wore them. Chaff, jokes, and sneers -with that gipsy for wearing the dead man’s clothes resulted -in a bet being made for five shillings as to whether I dare, or -dare not, visit the spot where the man was hung at midnight hour, -and bring some token or proof from the place as having been -there. I went and fetched a bough of the very same tree, -and from that circumstance I have been called -‘scarecrow’ or ‘dare-devil.’ -‘<i>Poshcard</i>’ or ‘<i>Shovecard</i>’ -was given to me because I was always a good <a -name="page17"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 17</span>hand at -cheating with cards.” <i>Posh</i> among the gipsies -and in Romany means “half,” and I suppose they really -looked upon Pether as having half gipsy blood in his veins.</p> -<p>“Well, how are you getting on now?” -“Well, I am getting on pretty well, thank God. I -never work my horse on Sundays, and I do not cheat the same as I -used to do. Some days I earn £6 or £7, and then -again I shall be for days and days and not earn sixpence. I -also go a rat-catching and butchering for people, and they pays -me pretty well; and sometimes I fetches a hare or two. I am -not particular if partridges or pheasants come in my way. -If you will let me know the next time you are this way I will -have a first-rate hare for you.” Of course I thanked -him, but told my friend that I was not partial to hares.</p> -<p>“Well now, Mr. Pether, let us come back again to the -time when you ran away, after felling the chap with the -poleaxe. Did you kill the man?” -“No,” said Pether, “I have found out since that -I did not kill him, but I gave him a terrible scalp. He is -dead now, poor chap. I have wished many thousands of times -since that I had not struck him, though he did wrong in -leathering me with a cow’s tongue.”</p> -<p>“How did your friends find you out at last?” -“Well,” said Pether, “after I ran away from -home my mother advertised for me all over the country, spending -scores of pounds to no purpose. On account of my changing -my clothes and name, and travelling with gipsies and tramps, and -becoming as one of them, they could never find me out, till I had -been away nearly eighteen years. How I was found out arose -as follows. One day I was sitting in a beershop with some -gipsies, when a man came in who knew me, and he seemed to look, -and look and eye me over, head and foot, from top to bottom, as -he never had done before. While he was looking at me, it -seemed to <a name="page18"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -18</span>strike me at once that I was at last found out for the -murder I had always thought that I had committed. He went -away for a little time out of the public-house, and as it has -been told me since, he went to the telegraph office to send a -telegram to my brother-in-law, who was in London, not many miles -away, to come down by the next train, for they had found out who -they thought to be their ‘Jack.’ He was not -away very long, and I was in twenty minds to have run out of the -house; but as he did not come back in a few minutes, I thought I -was wrong in judging that I had been found out. Lord bless -you, sir, did not I open my eyes when he came in again and -brought one or two men with him, and sat down and called for some -beer. My legs and knees began to knock together; I was all -of a tremble, and I got up to go out of the house, but they -called for some beer and would not let me leave the place. -For the life of me I could not make it all out. Sometimes I -imagined the new-comers were detectives in disguise. They -joked and chaffed and seemed quite merry. I can assure you, -sir, that I was not merry. I got up several times to try to -get out of the house, and to sneak away. He ordered some -dinner, and would have no ‘nay,’ but that I must join -them. I tried to eat with them, but I can assure you, sir, -it was not much that I could either eat or drink. -Presently, after dinner, another man came into the room and sat -down and called for some beer. I did not know the -man. It has turned out since that the last comer was no -other than my brother-in-law. It flashed across me that I -was at last found out, and no mistake. I was a doomed man; -and this surmise seemed to be doubly true when he took out of his -pocket a newspaper and began to read an advertisement giving the -description of me at the time I ran away. They now called -me by my own name, and asked the landlord to allow me to have a -wash, which <a name="page19"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -19</span>he readily granted. When this was over and I was -ready, they said, ‘Now, Jack, we shall want you to go with -us.’ Of course there was nothing for it but to -go. The worst was come, and I thought I must screw up -courage and face it out as well as I could. On our way we -called at the telegraph office, where one of the men sent -something by telegraph. I did not know what. I have -since heard that it was a telegram to my mother, stating that -they had found her son ‘Jack,’ and they were on the -way to her house with him. On the way through London to go, -as I thought, to the police-station, we turned off the main -street to go up a by-street. For the life of me I could not -tell where this was, except that they were going to change my -clothes, or put ‘steel buckles’ upon my wrists. -We went into a tidy sort of a little house, which I thought was -the home of one of the detectives who was with us. I was -asked to sit upon the old sofa, and the men sat round the -fire. For a little while all was as still as death. -Presently I heard someone coming downstairs. The footstep -did not sound like that of a man. In a minute there stood -before me a woman between fifty and sixty years old. I -thought I had seen the face somewhere, but could not tell -where. The voice seemed to be a voice that I had heard -somewhere, times back.</p> -<p>“The mystery was soon solved, the secret was soon -out. As she looked into my face, she cried out, ‘Art -thou my son John, who ran away from his place nearly twenty years -ago, and for whom I have prayed every day since that the Lord -would bring you back to me before I died?’ And then -she came a little nearer, and looked into my face a little -closer, and cried out, ‘Thou art my son, John; bless the -dear good Lord for preserving thee all these years.’ -I said, ‘Are you my mother?’ tremblingly. And -she took hold of me and put her arms round me, and clasped me -closely to her, and she cried and sobbed <a -name="page20"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 20</span>out for a -minute or two, and then, with tears streaming down her face upon -my shoulder, said, while trembling and almost fainting, ‘I -am thy mother, my son John; let me kiss thee.’ And -she kissed me, and I kissed her. I cried, and she cried; I -thought we were not going to be parted again. We were in -each other’s arms for a few moments, and the man who -brought the newspaper to the public-house to recognize me, made -himself known to me as my brother-in-law. Some of my -brothers came in the evening—and an evening it was. I -shall never forget our meeting while I live.” -“And you could have sung from your heart, Pether, -‘Come let us be merry, for this my son was dead and is -alive again, was lost and is found.’” -“Yes I could. I always felt, and do so still feel, -that when I am gipsying, as you sometimes see me at ‘Robin -Hood,’ my mother’s prayers are heard by God. -She is a good creature, and is alive and lives with my sister at -Battersea. I often go to see her. She is a good -creature.” Mr. Pether, while narrating his troubles, -difficulties, hairbreadth escapes, broke out frequently into sobs -and cries almost like a child.</p> -<p>I bade my friends the gipsies good-bye and, after giving the -poor crippled boy something to please him, I started to go to the -station, but found out that I should have an hour to wait. -I therefore turned into a Wesleyan Chapel to enjoy a partial -service, at the close of which the choir and the congregation, -including a gipsy Smith and his wife, sung with tear-fetching -expression and feeling—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Jerusalem my happy home,<br /> - Name ever dear to me;<br /> -When shall my labours have an end,<br /> - In joy and peace with thee?”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>After this impressive service time, steam and -“shanks’s pony” carried and wafted me back to -my friends in Victoria Park, none the worse for my Sunday ramble -among the gipsies.</p> -<h2><a name="page21"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -21</span>Rambles among the Gipsies in Epping Forest.</h2> -<p><span class="smcap">After</span> being kept in bed at a -friend’s house by pain and prostration for forty hours, it -was pleasant to tramp upon the green, mossy sward of Nature in -Victoria Park on a bright Easter Monday morning, with the sun -winking and blinking in my face through the trees on my way to -the station in the midst of a throng of busy holiday-seekers, -dressed in their best clothes, with all the variety of colour and -fashion that can only be seen on a bank-holiday. The -fashions worn by the ladies ranged from the reign of Queen Anne -to that of the latest fantasy under our good Queen Victoria, with -plenty of room for digression and varieties according to the -individual taste and vagary. Some of the ladies’ -pretty faces were not without colour which makes “beautiful -for ever.” There were others who might almost claim -relationship to Shetland ponies, for their hair hung over their -foreheads, covering their “witching eyes,” making -them like two-year old colts, and as if they were ashamed to show -the noble foreheads God had given them. Others were walking -on stilts, evidently with much discomfort, and with both eyes -shut <a name="page22"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 22</span>to -the injury they were inflicting upon their delicate frames and -constitutions. This class of young ladies evidently thought -that high heels, pretty ankles, and small feet, with plenty of -giggle and bosh, were the things to “trap ’em and -catch ’em.” Poor things! they are terribly -mistaken on this point. The things to “trap ’em -and catch ’em” are graceful action, modest reserve, -soft looks, a heart full of sympathy, tenderness, goodness, and -kindness. Few young men can withstand these -“fireworks.” These are the things which make -“beautiful for ever.”</p> -<p>The fashions adopted by the gentlemen were all -“cuts” and “shapes.” Naughty -children vulgarly call them “young -dandies”—“flashy fops” whose brains and -money—if they ever had any—vanish into smoke or the -fumes of a beer barrel. Their garments were covered with -creases, caused by the ironing process at their -“uncle’s,” which certainly did not add to their -appearance, or the elegance of their figures. As they -yawned, laughed, shouted, and giggled upon the platform, with -their mouths open—not quite as wide as Jumbo’s when -apples are thrown at him—it was not surprising that flies -fast disappeared.</p> -<p>There were others whose head and face had the appearance of -having been in many a storm of the “bull and pup” -fashion. They wore pantaloons tight round the knees and -wide about the ankles, and coats made of a small Scotch plaid, -blue and black cloth, with pockets inside and outside, capable of -holding a few rabbits, hares, and partridges without any -inconvenience to the wearer. At the heels of these gentry, -who loitered about with sticks in their hands, skulked lurcher -dogs.</p> -<p>Frequently I came alongside a young gentleman with an -intelligent face, marked by thought, care, and study, who -evidently was taking an “outing” for the good of <a -name="page23"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 23</span>his -health. As he passed the vacant-minded part of the throng -and crush, he seemed to give a kind of side glance of pity and -contempt, and then passed along, keeping a sharp look-out after -his pockets.</p> -<p>Among the crowd of pleasure-seekers there was a large -sprinkling of men with premature grey locks and snowy white hair, -betoking a life of hurry and worry, thought, care, and anxiety, -with several children jumping and frisking round them with glee, -delight, joy, and smiles at the prospect of spending a day with -their fathers in the forest free from school and city life. -As the lovely children were bounding along, it only required a -very slight stretch of imagination to read the thoughts of the -good father, and to hear him saying to the children, “I -wish I was young again, I should like to have a romp with you -to-day; my heart beats with joy at seeing you dance about. -God bless you, my dear children; God bless you! I am so -glad to see you so happy.” And then tears would -trickle down the face of the early careworn father, at the -thought of a coming parting, when he would have to bid them -good-bye, and leave them in the hands of God and an early widowed -mother, to get along as well as they could in the midst of the -cold shoulders of the friends of the bygone prosperous times, who -have received many favours at the hands of the early grey-bearded -father, but shudder at the thought of being asked by the poor -widow for a favour.</p> -<p>The children, with ringlets and flowing hair and bright eyes, -now cling to him and hold him by the tails of his coat and his -hands, and begin to sing as they speed towards the -forest—</p> -<blockquote><p>“The Lion of Judah shall break every -chain<br /> -And give us the victory again and again;<br /> -Be hushed, my sad spirit, the worst that can come<br /> -But shortens the journey and hastens me home.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p><a name="page24"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 24</span>And -away they went out of sight among the tussocks of grass, little -hills, hedges, low bushes, and heather, to gather daisies and -other wild flowers, perhaps not to be seen again by me till we -meet on the plains of Paradise.</p> -<p>Among the crowd there were a number of men, who could not be -mistaken by any one who knows anything of literary work and -literary men, trying to get a “breath of fresh air” -and a few wrinkles off their face, and to come in contact with -some one who could touch the spring of pleasure—which by -this time had been nearly dried up, or frozen up by studying and -anxiety—and bring a smile to the face.</p> -<p>I ran against one man who was evidently in deep trouble, and I -began to question him as to the cause of his sorrow, and he told -me as follows: “For many years I was a clerk in a -solicitor’s office in the city, and on my arrival home at -night, I used to write stories and other things for the papers, -without pay, merely for pleasure. In course of time my -eyesight failed me, and I had to give up my situation. I -thought I would try to write a story for publication, so that I -might maintain my family, and keep them from the workhouse. -I began the tale and finished it. I made sure that I should -have no difficulty in getting some publisher to take it up and -print it for me, and that I should make a fortune, and be made a -man; but to my surprise no one would look at it. I went -from one place to another, day after day, without any success, -returning home every night thoroughly broken down and dispirited, -and to-day I have my manuscript without any prospect of meeting -with a customer, and am strolling here to contemplate the next -step.” I gave him a little encouragement, and told -him to cheer up—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Behind a frowning Providence He hides a -smiling face.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>We shook hands and parted.</p> -<p><a name="page25"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 25</span>I had -not gone far before I overtook a woman in deep mourning, with -four children walking slowly along. There was no -friskiness, liveliness, and sport about this family. The -two least hung as it were upon the skirts of the poor sorrowful -mother’s garments. Despair seemed to be written not -only upon their faces, but upon their clothes and actions. -The fountain of tears had been dried up, but not by the kindness -of friends, but by poverty and starvation, with all their grim -horrors staring them in the face, and with the terrible workhouse -as the lot in store for them, till there was scarcely any -vitality left in their system from which tears could be extracted -either by kindness or sorrow. They seemed to be the -embodiment of pallor, languidness, and lifelessness. This -poor woman had had a good education; in fact, her manner and -conversation seemed to be that of a lady who had moved in good -society; but alas, overwork, worry, and death had early robbed -her of a good husband, when he was on the threshold of a -first-class position and a fortune, and all was gone! gone! and -now “blank,” “blank,” “blank” -seemed to be written everywhere. I tried to console her -best as I could, and left her.</p> -<p>I had now begun to mount the hills of Epping Forest with a -different phase of human life before and on either side of -me. On the grass were four gipsies and -“Rodneys,” with dogs lying beside them. In all -appearance they had neither worked nor washed in their lives, -and, as they said, they were “too old to learn how -now.” I had not got much further before I was -accosted by a gipsy girl, apparently about fourteen, with a baby -nearly nude, and covered with dirt and filth, draining the -nourishment of life from its dirty mother, who exposed her -breasts without the least shame. She saw that I noticed -her, and without a moment’s hesitation asked me if I wanted -my “fortune told.” She said that she would tell -<a name="page26"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 26</span>it to me -for a trifle. Her father—to all appearance—and -brothers stood by, and acting either upon her own instincts or a -wink from them, she said, “I see you know it better than I -can tell you;” and away she sidled off to attend to her -cocoa-nuts, saying, after a round of swearing at four gipsy -children, “I hope you will give my baby a penny; -that’s a good gentleman, do, and God will bless you for -it.”</p> -<p>I had not gone far up the hill before I found myself in -company with a forest ranger; and a rare good-looking fellow he -was. He was a short thickset man, and as round almost as a -prize bullock. He said the gipsies—so-called -gipsies—were the plague of his life. They were -squatting about everywhere, breaking the fences and stealing -everything they could lay their hands upon. Before the last -three years there were hundreds of gipsies in the forest, living -by plunder and fortune-telling, and since they had driven them -away, they had settled upon the outskirts of the forest and -pieces of waste land, some of which were rented by some of the -better class gipsies, and relet again to the other gipsies at a -small charge per week, who thus escaped the law. This good -ranger said there were no real gipsies at the present time in the -country. They had been mixed up with other vagabonds that -scarcely a trace of the genuine gipsy was left.</p> -<p>Some old gipsies were complaining very much because the price -of cocoa-nuts had been raised. “Until now,” -said this lot of vagabond gipsies, “we could get cocoa-nuts -at one pound per hundred; now we are, to-day, giving thirty -shillings per hundred; and it is no joke when you get some of -those old cricketers at work among them. They bowl them off -like one o’clock.” “How do you do in such -a case?” I asked. “Well, sometimes we let them -go on till they get a belly-full, and sometimes we cries quits, -and will have no more on ’em, and tell them to go somewhere -<a name="page27"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 27</span>else, we -are quite satisfied. You know, sir, better than I can tell -you that it is no joke to have your nuts bowled off like -that. I feel sometimes,” said one gipsy, with -clenched fist raised almost to my face and closed teeth, -“that I should like to bowl their yeds off, and no -mistake. I feel savage enough to punch their een out, and I -could do it in a jiffy.” He now left me and bawled -out, “Now, gents, try your luck, try your luck; all bad uns -returned.” There was a brisk trade, and a lot of -shoeless, dirty little gipsy children were scrambling after the -balls, and throwing to the winners the nuts they had won; every -now and then there would be a terrible row over a -nut—whether it was properly hit, or who was the rightful -owner. “Bang” went a ball from a big fellow -against a cocoa-nut, sending it and the juice inside flying in -all directions, and the youngsters scrambling after the -pieces. And then there would be another bawl out by a gipsy -woman, “Bowl again, gentlemen; try your luck, try your -luck; all good uns and no bad uns; bad uns returned.” -I left this lot of gipsies to pursue my way to the “Robin -Hood,” where there was a pell-mell gathering of all sorts -of human beings numbering thousands. In elbowing my way -through the crowd, a sharp, business-kind of a gipsy-woman, well -dressed and not bad looking, eyed me over, and, thinking that I -was “Johnny” from the country, said to a woman who -was near her, “You keep back, I mean to tell this gentleman -his fortune.” Three or four steps forward she took, -and then stood full in front of me. “A fine day, -sir,” said the gipsy woman with a twinkle in her eye and a -side laugh, nudging to another gipsy woman at her elbow. -“Yes, a very fine day,” I said. She now drew a -little nearer, and said in not very loud tones, “Would you -like to have your fortune told you, my good gentleman? I -could tell you something that would please you, I am sure. -There is good luck in your face. Now, <a -name="page28"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 28</span>my dear good -gentleman, do let me tell your fortune. You will become -rich and have many friends, but will have many false friends and -enemies.” Just as she was beginning to spin her yarn -one of the B— gipsies came up. She was dressed in a -glaring red Scotch plaid dress, with red, blue, green, and yellow -ribbons flying about her head and shoulders; and in her arms was -a baby which was dressed in white linen and needlework. -This gipsy woman was stout, dark, and with round features, her -black hair was waved like I have seen the manes of horses, and -her eye the opposite of heavenly. She now turned to the -gipsy woman who had accosted me and said, “Mrs. Smith, you -need not tell this gentleman his fortune, he knows more than we -both can tell him. This is Mr. Smith of Coalville, he had -tea with us at K—.” “Oh,” said the -gipsy woman named Smith, “this is Mr. Smith of Coalville, -is it? I’ve heard a deal about him. I’ll -go, or he’ll be putting me in a book. -Goodbye.” She put out her hands to shake mine, and -then vanished out of my sight, and I never saw her again in the -forest during the day. I suppose she fancied that I should -be bringing her to book for fortune-telling. I was now left -with the gipsy B— and her baby. She threw aside her -shawl in order that I might look at the child, who was apparently -about four months old. Poor thing! it did not know that it -was the child of sin, for its parents were living in adultery, as -nearly all the gipsies do. This gipsy woman was earning -money for herself, and an idle man she was keeping, by exhibiting -her illegitimate offspring and telling silly girls their -fortunes. Think about it lightly as we may, fortune-telling -is vastly on the increase all over the country, producing most -deadly and soul-crushing results. Just as I was touching -the poor baby’s face and putting sixpence in its hand, a -gentleman connected with the Ragged School Union came up with <a -name="page29"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 29</span>his two -children. I found as we travelled up the hill together that -I was talking to Mr. Curtiss, the organizing secretary of the -Union, who was in the forest for an “outing,” and -could, no doubt, with Dr. Grosart say—</p> -<blockquote><p>“I wonder not, when ’mong the fresh, -glad leaves,<br /> -I hear the early spring-birds sing;<br /> -I wonder not that ’neath the sunny eaves<br /> -The swallow flits with glancing wing.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>When we reached the top of the hill, I took a sharp turn to -the left, and bid him and his two interesting sons goodbye.</p> -<p>I had not wandered far before I came upon a group of gipsy -children, ragged, dirty, and filthy in the extreme. One of -them ran after me for some “coppers.” I took -the opportunity of having a chat with the poor child, whose -clothes seemed to be literally alive with vermin. I asked -him what his name was, and his answer was, “I don’t -know, I’ve got so many names; sometimes they call me Smith, -sometimes Brown, and lots of other names.” -“Have you ever been washed in your life?” -“Not that I know on, sir.” The feet of the poor -lad seemed to have festering holes in them, in which there were -vermin getting fat out of the sores, and the colour of his body -was that of a tortoise, except patches of a little lighter yellow -were to be seen here and there. “Do you ever say your -prayers?” “Yes, sir, sometimes.” -“What do you say when you say your prayers? Who -teaches you them?” “My sister,” said the -boy. “Tell me the first line and I will give you a -penny.” “I cannot, I’ve forgotten them; -and so has my sister.” “Can you -read?” “No.” “Were you ever -in a school?” “No.” “Did you -ever hear of Jesus?” “I never heard of such a -man. He does not live upon this forest.” -“Where does God live?” “I don’t -know; I never heard of him neither. There used to be a chap -live in the forest named like it, <a name="page30"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 30</span>but he’s been gone away a long -time. I think he went a ‘hoppin’ in Kent two or -three years ago.” At this juncture a Sunday-school -teacher connected with College Green Chapel, Stepney, whom I -knew, came up, and we entered into conversation together. -The poor lad said he had not had anything to eat “since -Saturday.” My young friend gave him some sandwiches, -and I gave him some “coppers,” and we separated.</p> -<p>An old gipsy woman appeared upon the scene with two little -ragged gipsy children at her heels and a long stick in her hand, -reminding me of the “shepherd’s crook.” -On her feet were two odd, old, and worn-out navvy’s boots -stuffed with rags, pieces of which were trailing after her -heels. Her dress—if it could be called -dress—was short, and almost hung in shreds; crooked and -disgustingly filthy, she strutted about telling fortunes. I -said to the old hypocrite, “How old are you? you must be -getting a good round age.” With a quivering lip, -trembling voice, and a tottering limb and stick she replied, -“If it please the Lord, I shall be seventy-five -soon.” “Which tribe of the gipsies do you -belong to?” “I belong to the -Drapers.” She now altered the tone of her voice to -that of earnestness and said, “My good gentleman, I hope -you have got a penny for me; I’ve had nothing to eat -to-day.” Her voice began to quaver again, and, -looking up towards the bright blue sky, “Now, my dear good -gentleman, please do give me a penny, and the Lord will bless -you. I’ve had a large family—nineteen children, -and only three are dead.” I said, “What will -you charge me for telling me my fortune?” She seemed -a different woman in a minute, and replied in sharp tones, -“You know it better than I can tell you.” The -old gipsy woman fancied that she “smelt a rat,” and -she turned away, with some hellish language to the little -gipsies, and was lost among the crowd of holiday-makers passing -backwards and forwards, <a name="page31"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 31</span>drinking, swearing, gambling, -fighting, racing, frolicsome, funny, and thoughtful. The -curtain was now drawn, and I left her to pursue her satanic work -among the simple, gay, and serious.</p> -<p>For a few minutes I stood in meditation and wonder, while the -crowds of gipsies were pursuing their work in fortune-telling and -at the swings, cocoa-nuts, donkey-riding, steam horses, -&c. One young fellow I saw among the gipsies was not of -gipsy birth or gipsy extraction. It was quite evident from -his manner and tattered, black cloth dress, that the young man -was nearly at the bottom of a slippery inclined plane. His -figure brought to me a familiar scene of some twenty-five years -ago, and with which I was well acquainted. The young man -reminded me of the only son of a Methodist local preacher who had -had the sole management of extensive earthenware works in the -— for a long term of years, and was highly respected in the -district. The young man had been petted and almost -idolized. This only son was highly educated, and in every -way was being prepared to take his father’s place at the -works some day. His sisters worked carpet slippers for him, -and his mother warmed them before he went to bed; and -“good-nights” were given in the midst of loving -embraces, prayers, and kisses. Oftentimes they were given -and said while tears of thankfulness to God for having given -them, as they thought, a son who was to give them comfort, -solace, and pride as they toddled down the hill together, while -the shades of evening gathered round them. Every one in -this Christian household thought no labour in winter or summer, -night or day, too much to be bestowed upon their darling -son. Alas! alas! this idolized boy, for whom thousands of -prayers had been offered to Heaven on his behalf, in an evil hour -ceased to pray for himself, and took the wrong turning or -“sharp round to the left,” and the last I heard <a -name="page32"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 32</span>of him was -that he had fallen in with a gang of gipsies, ended his days as a -vagabond in a union in Yorkshire, and had brought his parents -with their early grey hairs in sorrow to the grave. His -loving sisters to-day are scattered to the winds. These -recollections brought tears to my eyes and a deep, deep sigh from -the bottom of my heart.</p> -<p>I hung down my head, for I thought by the smarting of my eyes -they would tell a tale, and made my way on foot in the midst of -clouds of dust to Chingford, at the edge of the Forest, where -Easter Monday was being held in high glee. Among the -people, gentle and simple, I met on my way was a cartload of -drunken lads and screaming wenches being drawn to the -“Robin Hood” and High Beech by a poor, bony, grey, -old, worn-out pony, with knees large enough for two horses, owing -to its many falls upon the hard stones without the option of -choice. If it had not been that it had a load of donkeys -and little live beer barrels with their vent pegs drawn, filling -the air on this bright spring morning with</p> -<blockquote><p>“We won’t go home till morning,<br /> -We won’t go home till morning,<br /> -Till daylight doth appear,”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>it might have turned round and bawled out, “Am not I -thine ass?” Unfortunately for the poor dumb animal -there was no one in its load that had sense, except in response -to a policeman’s cudgel, to understand the meaning of -“Am not I thine ass?” And away it hobbled and -limped till it was out of sight. By this time perhaps the -poor thing has been made into sausages, and sold to the -“poor” as a rich treat for Sunday only.</p> -<p>One of this load of young sinners stood up in their -midst—or I should say was propped up—and, with his -hat slouching backward in his neck, shouted, “Mates, -let’s give three cheers for Epping Forest.” -“All right,” they cried out, “Hip, hip, hurrah! -hip, hip, hurrah!” <a name="page33"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 33</span>Another bawled out, -“Let’s give three cheers for Easter -Monday.” “Bravo, Jack; that’s it!” -shouted a third, as he lay “all of a heap” at the -bottom of the cart. “Hip, hip, hurrah! hip, hip, -hurrah! hip, hip, hip—” but they could not in this -trial of strength get any farther. The “hurrah” -was left for another Easter Monday. By this time, owing to -the fumes of the beer barrel and the jolting of the cart, they -had become such a “set out as I never did see.” -Out of this pell-mell cartload of sin one of the crew, who needed -a “slobbing bib,” cried out, “I—I—I -say, Bill, let’s give three cheers for your old -cat.” “You fool, we have no old cat,” -said Bill. “I didn’t say you had.” -“You did.” “I didn’t.” -“You did,” said Bill. “If you say so -again, I’ll punch you.” “Punch -away,” said Bill. “Stop till we get to the -‘Robin Hood,’ and then I’ll show you -who’s master.” “Sit down, you -fool,” said Bill; “you have not the heart of a -chicken.”</p> -<p>The Royal Road and Connaught Lake were beheld and passed over, -and now, after observing and star-gazing right and left, I was -among the gipsies to the left of the Forest Hotel. There -was no mistaking them; for some of the poor women with their -babies in their arms showed the usual signs of having been in the -“wars,” by exhibiting here and there a “black -eye;” and without any signs of the maiden and virgin -modesty, romantic, backwood gipsy writers, who have never visited -gipsy wigwams, say is one of the peculiar traits of gipsy -character. Here there were droves of gipsies of all shades, -caste, and colour, shouting, fighting, swearing, lying, and -thieving to their heart’s content, with hordes of children -exhibiting themselves in most disgusting positions in the midst -of the boisterous laughter of their beastly parents.</p> -<p>At one of the cocoa-nut stalls stood a big, fat, coarse gipsy -woman with black hair, big mouth, and a bare bosom. Hanging -at one of her breasts was a poor baby, <a name="page34"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 34</span>as thin as a herring, and with -festering sores all over its face and body. To me they -seemed to be the outcome of starvation, poverty, neglect, and -dirt. The woman said that “teething” was the -sole cause of the sores. This poor child ought to have been -nourished in bed instead of being on its way to the grave, which -may be at the back of some bush in the Forest, as I am told has -been the case with numbers of gipsy children before. -Hundreds, and I might say thousands, of them have been born among -the low bushes, furze, and heather on Epping Forest without a -tithe of the care which is bestowed upon cats and puppies. -If children have been and are still being ushered into the world -in such an unceremonious manner, it may be taken for granted that -they have been and still are ushered out of the world “when -they are not wanted” in an equally unceremonious -manner. Queer things come to my ears sometimes. Gipsy -morality, cleanliness, faithfulness, honesty, and industry exist -only in moonshine—with some noble exceptions—and in -the brain of some backwood romantic gipsy novelists, who have -more than once been bewitched by the guile of gipsydom -detrimental to their own interests and the welfare of our -country. A “witching eye” has blindfolded -hundreds to the putrifying mass of gipsyism; and a gipsy’s -deceitful tongue has thrown thousands of -“simple-minded” off their guard, and left them to -flounder, struggle, and die in the mud of sin, with a future hope -worse than that of a dog.</p> -<p>A tall fellow, almost like two six feet laths nailed together, -now came near, and began to abuse the poor woman in a most -fearful manner for having been away from the cocoa-nut stall -attending to the needs of her child. The swearing was most -blood-curdling and horrifying. I left this establishment to -witness the cruel treatment the poor donkeys were receiving at -the hands of these vagabond gipsies, which is almost beyond -description. <a name="page35"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -35</span>The thrashing, kicking, and striking with sharp pointed -sticks, to make the poor donkeys go faster with their loads of -big and little children on their backs, were enough to make -one’s hair stand on end.</p> -<p style="text-align: center"> -<a href="images/p35b.jpg"> -<img alt= -"An English gipsy countess on the “look-out”" -title= -"An English gipsy countess on the “look-out”" - src="images/p35s.jpg" /> -</a></p> -<p>I now turned from this scene of human depravity to the Forest -Hotel to recruit my inner man; this, after half an hour waiting, -was accomplished in a gipsy fashion, and with much -scrambling. While entering a few notes in my book, a -gentleman, apparently of position and education, wheeled up on -his tricycle opposite to my window. He had not long -dismounted, lighted his pipe, and sauntered about for a rest, -before a gipsy woman wanted to make friends with him, I suppose -to tell his fortune. Fortunately he was proof against her -“witching eyes,” forced smiles, and “My dear -good gentleman,” and turned away from her in disgust. -She did not understand rebuffs and scowling looks, and went away -with her forced smile of gipsydom hanging upon her lips and in -her eyes among the crowd to try her “practised” hand -upon some one else not quite so wide-awake as this gentleman upon -the tricycle.</p> -<p>A lively change was soon manifest. Dancing among a -pother of dust was to be seen in earnest opposite the hotel -windows, by a most motley crowd. Fat and thin, tall and -lean, young and old, pretty and plain, lovely and ugly, danced -round and round till they presented themselves, through sweat and -dust, fit subjects for a Turkish bath. The old and fat -panted, the young laughed, the giddy screamed, and the thin -jumped about as nimble as kittens, and on they whirled towards -eternity and the shades of long night.</p> -<p>I now retraced my steps along the Royal Road to the -“Robin Hood,” and while doing so I tried to gather, -from various sources, the probable number of gipsies, young and -old, in Epping Forest on Easter Monday. <a -name="page36"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 36</span>Sometimes I -counted, at other times I asked the royal verderers, gipsies, -show people, and others; and, putting all things together, I may -safely say that there were thirty gipsy women who were telling -fortunes, four hundred gipsy children, and two hundred men and -women, not half a dozen of whom could tell A from B. Most -of the children were begging, and some few were at the -“cocoa-nuts.” Some idea of the gipsy population -in and around London may be formed from this estimate, when it is -taken into account that holiday festivals were being held on the -outskirts of London at the same time, and in all -directions. Upon Wanstead Flats, Cherry Island, Barking -Road, Canning Town, Hackney Flats, Hackney Marshes, Battersea, -Wandsworth, Chelsea, Wardley Street, Notting Hill, and many other -places, there must be fully 8000 gipsy children, nearly the whole -of whom are illegitimate, growing up as ignorant as heathens, -without any prospect of improvement or a lessening of -numbers.</p> -<p>I had now arrived again at the High Beech and the “Robin -Hood,” and found myself jostled, crushed, and crammed by a -tremendous crowd of people. Publicans, fops, sharps, and -flats, mounted upon all manner of steeds, varying in style and -breed from “Bend Or” to the poor broken-kneed pony -owned by a gipsy, were coming cantering, galloping, and trotting -to the scene. “What is all this about?” I said -to “Jack <i>Poshcard</i>,” my old friend the gipsy, -who stood at my elbow. “Don’t you know, -governor?” said he. “We are going to have a -deer turned out directly, and these are the huntsmen, and pretty -huntsmen they are, for I could run faster myself.” -While the preparations were going on my friend Jack said to me, -“Governor, if you will come up again some Sunday I will see -that you have a fine hare to take back with you.” -While we were talking a hare showed its white tail among the -bushes on the side of the hill, and <a name="page37"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 37</span>I fancied I heard Jack smacking his -lips at this treat in store for him.</p> -<p>There was a tremendous move forward taking place. The -deer was turned out, and these London <i>quasi</i>-huntsmen were -after it as fast as their steeds could carry them, dressed in -fashions, colours, and shapes, varying from that of a gipsy to a -dandy cockney, holloaing and bellowing like a lot of madcaps from -Bedlam and Broadmoor, after a creature they could neither catch, -kill, cook, nor eat.</p> -<p>While the din and hubbub were echoing away among the lovely -hills and valleys of the forest, I wended my way to the station -and to Victoria Park in company, part of the way, with some -policemen jostling some youths off to the police station for -disgraceful assaults upon young girls.</p> -<p>I strolled in Victoria Park, in company with a friend, the -Rev. R. Spears, but no discord nor discordant noises were to be -seen or heard.</p> -<p>The Sunday-school children had been enjoying themselves to -their heart’s content. The grass, in many places, was -literally covered with sandwich papers; and here and there a -group of Sunday-school teachers were resting after their hard -day’s work to please and amuse the “little -folks” in their friskings and gambols in the fresh -air. All this brings to my mind most vividly the long term -of years when I had had the charge of such interesting -gatherings, with their enchanting singing, sweet voices, pleasant -faces, and delightful chatter as the little ones danced and -bounded to and fro around me with mesmeric influence too powerful -to withstand; and at times I have felt an irresistible impulse -prompting me to shout out, “God bless the -children!”</p> -<p>I had now arrived at the park-keeper’s gate on my way -home. The fogs were rising, the shades of evening <a -name="page38"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 38</span>were -gathering around us, silence and solitude were stealing over the -scene, and behind me were four young men singing, feelingly, as -they followed me out of the park, in the old evening song -tune—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Swift to its close ebbs out life’s -little day,<br /> -Earth’s joys grow dim, its glories pass away;<br /> -Change and decay in all around I see,<br /> -O Thou who changest not, abide with me.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>To which I said, Amen and Amen. “So mote it -be.”</p> -<h2><a name="page39"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -39</span>Rambles among the Gipsies upon Wanstead Flats.</h2> -<p><span class="smcap">Easter</span> Tuesday was cold, -disagreeable, and damp. A London fog was hanging overhead -as I turned early out of my lodgings to visit Wanstead Flats -gipsy fair. Between the black fog and the rays of the sun a -struggle seemed to be taking place as to which influence should -rule London for the day, by imparting either darkness, gloom, and -melancholy, or light, brightness, and cheerfulness to the -millions of dwellers and toilers in London streets, shops, -offices, garrets, cellars, mansions, and palaces. The -struggle did not continue long. Fog and mist had to vanish -into thin air at the bidding of the Spring sun’s rays, and -black particles of soot had to drop upon the pavement to be swept -into the London sewers by scavengers. For my own part I -felt heavy all day through fog and sunshine.</p> -<p>I duly arrived at Forest Gate, and began to wander among the -gipsies, “taking stock,” and indulging in other -preliminaries before making a practical “survey” of -the whole.</p> -<p>During my peregrinations among the Wanstead Gonjos, -Poshpeérdos, Romani-chals, and Romany Ryes, I came <a -name="page40"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 40</span>upon a -gentleman with whom I had a long interesting conversation about -the best means, plans, and modes of dealing with our little -street Arabs and other juveniles who have “gone -wrong,” or are found in paths leading to it. From my -friend I gleaned some interesting information relating to the -early steps taken to bring them back into paths of honesty, -industry, and uprightness. Mary Carpenter, of Bristol, -worked hard, long, and successfully in this direction. -Although she has passed away, the fruits of her labour are seen -at Bristol and at other places in the country to-day, and will -continue green till the last trumpet shall sound, and we are -called home to live in an atmosphere where there is no sorrow, -crying, wretchedness, poverty, misery, or death, and where gipsy -and canal children’s rags will be transformed into angel -robes, and their dirt and filth into angel brightness and -seraphic splendour.</p> -<p>About a century ago, an institution was set on foot in the -Borough of Southwark called the Philanthropic Society, date 1780, -which provided a home for the children of prisoners, who would -otherwise have been thrown upon the world to beg or steal as best -they could. For a period of more than half a century, the -benevolent character of the society secured for it a fair share -of voluntary support from the public. For many years it -gathered together and educated both boys and girls—some of -whom were gipsy children. The former were taught trades, -such as tailoring, shoe-making, and rope-making. The girls -were taught laundry work and the duties of domestic life. -It was found, however, by much experience, sometimes painful, -that the presence of both sexes, although kept as separate as -possible, was not advantageous, and therefore, early in the -present century, boys only were received. These were -non-criminals themselves—only the offspring of that class, -and destitute.</p> -<p><a name="page41"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 41</span>When -separate prisons were found necessary for the more successful -reclaiming, as it was hoped, of juvenile offenders, Parkhurst -prison in the Isle of Wight was used for that class. The -experiment of keeping young criminals together and away from -older ones was considered so far satisfactory that, in the year -1846, Sir George Grey, as Home Secretary, resolved—no doubt -at the instigation of Mary Carpenter, and as the result of her -agitation in this direction—on trying the experiment of -relieving the pressure arising from increased numbers by drafting -those who had the most reliable characters into an institution -from which they might hope to have more liberty, and ultimately, -by continued good conduct, be placed out in service, and so -obtain their freedom. All the inmates of Parkhurst prison -were under sentence of seven or ten years’ -transportation. The Home Secretary had twenty-five of those -young persons selected, and a conditional pardon from the Queen -was obtained for each, that they might be placed in circumstances -to work their way speedily to freedom. The buildings of the -Philanthropic Society in Southwark were selected for the -experiment, and those juvenile criminals were introduced to their -new liberty, and associated with the non-criminal boys then in -the Institution. By that action the society changed its -character, and henceforth it became a Reformatory School, still -retaining its original name.</p> -<p>The experiment was both bold and wise; and to insure success -an entire change of management was required. Up to that -time repression and terror were too much exercised by the -officials who had the care of the inmates. A much more -liberal and enlightened policy was resolved upon, and education -and home training were to be the substitutes. A large -schoolroom was erected on the premises, which were situated -immediately behind the Blind Asylum, and extended from the London -Road on the east <a name="page42"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -42</span>to St. George’s Road on the west, all enclosed -within high walls, having a large chapel on the south-west -corner, which served for both the inmates of the institution and -the general public. It was of the first importance that in -making this experiment properly qualified persons should be -placed in command. The Rev. Sydney Turner (the favourite -son of Sharon Turner, the historian) was the chaplain. The -head master and house superintendent was selected from St. -John’s College, Battersea, and Mr. George John Stevenson, -M.A., was appointed to the responsible position. Both the -chaplain and the head master shared alike the deep sense of the -responsibility involved in the undertaking, as any amount of -failure would have been a disaster to be deplored in many -ways. So that it required a strong resolution on the part -of those officials to secure success. Mr. Stevenson had to -assume the position of father of the family, superintending the -food, clothing, recreation, and education of the inmates. A -new and experienced matron took charge of the domestic -arrangements, and thus, from the very commencement of the new -plans, the inmates were made to share in the comforts designed to -improve their moral and social condition. All the old -<i>régime</i> was abandoned. It had broken down -completely so far as either elevating the inmates or securing -public patronage were concerned. The Government paid for -each of their boys a fixed sum, which supplied the finances -required for working the institution, and a cheerful prospect -opened out from the beginning, which was shared alike by the -officers and those under their care. That some of the more -daring spirits should seek to trespass on the additional liberty -thus afforded them was natural; that some few should give -evidence of their innate desire for wrong-doing was not -surprising. The first who violated their agreement to -obedience soon found that the arrangements made with the police -authorities <a name="page43"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -43</span>were such as effectually broke down all their schemes -for hastening their liberty. Five or six of the young -rascals who escaped one Sunday evening just before bedtime were -speedily brought back either by the police or by the -superintendent of the institution early the next day, even when -scattered over the metropolis; this had a very deterring effect -on such efforts in future. They did not believe in what a -writer in “The Christian Life” says—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Obscured life sets down a type of bliss,<br -/> -A mind content both crown and kingdom is;”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>but rather in what a writer in <i>The Sunday at Home</i> for -1878 says—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Then while the shadows lingering cloked -us,<br /> -Down to the ghostly shore we sped.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>Those who exercised more patience and discretion were allowed -to spend a day with their relatives and to begin to familiarize -themselves with the sweets of liberty; and these, after a few -months’ experience, were sent out into the world to make a -new start in life in such occupations as they had learned during -their confinement; or those who preferred a seafaring life were -placed in the merchant service. A number of gipsy children, -sad to relate, have found their way into our present-day -reformatories, industrial schools, and like places.</p> -<p>When at Bristol in 1882, inspecting along with a number of -ladies and gentlemen the training ship, the superintendent -pointed out to me several little gipsies who had been placed -under his charge to become either “men or mice.”</p> -<p>The first year’s experience was of the most gratifying -character. The Home Secretary, the Earl of Carlisle, the -Bishop of Oxford, and other distinguished persons, visited the -institution; and, desiring to become acquainted with the details -of the daily experience, sought an interview <a -name="page44"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 44</span>with Mr. -Stevenson, on whom depended mainly the results of the -experiment. The effect of those personal investigations was -shown by the too early dispatch of a much more numerous company -of young transports from Parkhurst. The design was to -relieve a heavy pressure felt there; but it had the effect of -increasing the difficulties in the Reformatory School in -Southwark. With the enlarged operations the official staff -had to be increased, and the same superintendence worked out the -same results on a larger scale after a little undue tension on -both mind and body. The young persons reclaimed by that -process found ready openings all over London, and these were -frequently visited by the superintendent during the hours the -inmates were at work. The education, conducted by Mr. -Stevenson and an assistant, did not occupy more than two or three -hours daily, so that handicraft operations might have, as it -required, more time for exercise.</p> -<p>The first reformatory school for young criminals in the -metropolis was, at the end of two years’ experience, a -marked and decided success. The mental strain on the -superintendent was great and continuous, the duties allowed of no -respite for vacation; but as great and permanent advantages were -hoped for by the Home Government, all connected with the -institution worked for that result, and they had the satisfaction -of seeing it. At the end of two years it was resolved to -give the institution a more agricultural character, after the -example of one established at Mettray, in France, whose founder -visited the Philanthropic, in Southwark, during its new -experience. To carry out that plan the erection of the -Philanthropic Farm School at Red Hill, Reigate, was -undertaken. At that time the trustees of the old endowed -school on Lambeth Green required a head master, and, unsolicited -on his part, Mr. Stevenson was unanimously elected to that -office, visiting only occasionally the new establishment, <a -name="page45"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 45</span>which -required officers with agricultural experience; and it was -gratifying to him to know that the foundations so broadly laid -were successful on a larger scale in working the permanent -reformation of juvenile criminals out in the open country than -they could possibly be in the crowded metropolis.</p> -<p>The success of this plan for dealing with juvenile criminals -makes it evident that a wise statesmanlike plan of educating the -gipsy children would turn them into respectable and useful -members of society, instead of their growing up to make society -their prey.</p> - -<div class="gapspace"> </div> -<p>To come back to the gipsies upon the “Flats,” I -bade my friend good-bye, and began in earnest to carry out the -object of my visit.</p> -<p>I had not been long on the ground—<i>marshy -flats</i>—before I saw a young man scampering off to a -tumble-down show with a loaf of bread and two red herrings in his -arms. He had no hat upon his head, and his hair was cut -short. His face was bloated, presenting a piebald -appearance of red, white, and black, with a few blotches into the -bargain. His foolish colouring paint, jokes, and antics had -dyed his skin, stained his conscience, and blackened his -heart. His clothing consisted of part of a filthy ragged -shirt and a pair of patched and ragged breeches. They -looked as if the owner and the tailor were combined in one being, -and that the one who stood before me. The stitches in his -breeches could not have presented a stranger appearance if they -had been worked and made with a cobbler’s awl and a -“tackening end.” His boots in better days might -have done duty in a drawing-room, but were now transformed. -With a laugh and a joke I captured my new friend, and -notwithstanding that he had his dinner in his arms, we entered -into a long chat together.</p> -<p>I soon found out that he was the “old fool” of the -<a name="page46"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 46</span>show, with -which he was connected, and was known among his fraternity as -“Old Bones,” although he did not seem to be over -twenty years old. His salary for being the “old -fool,” young fool, a fool to himself, and a fool for -everybody, was four shillings a week and his “tommy,” -or “grub,” which, as he said, was “not very -delicious” at all times. I asked “Old -Bones” why he was nicknamed “Old Bones.” -He said, “Because some of our chaps saw me riding upon an -old bony horse one day, with its bones sticking up enough to cut -you through, and the more I wolloped it the more it stuck fast -and would not go.” When I heard this, one of the -ditties I know in the days of my child slavery in the brickfield -came up as green as ever—</p> -<blockquote><p>“If I had a donkey and it would not go,<br -/> -Must I wollop it? No, no, no!”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>“Our chaps,” said Bones, “laughed at -me. I had to dismount and let the brute take its chance; -and from that day I have been named ‘Old -Bones.’” “I’m not very old, am -I?” he said, and began to kick about on the ground. -But I would not let him go, for I wanted to learn something of -his antecedents. He had been a gutta percha shoemaker, and -could earn his pound or more per week, but preferred to tramp the -country as an “old fool,” live on red herrings, dress -in rags, and sleep on straw under the stage. Before he had -quite finished his story, another man, dressed in a suit of -dirty, greasy, seedy-looking, threadbare, worn-out West of -England black cloth, joined us. “Old Bones,” -after a good shake of the hand, vanished to his show, red -herrings, and “quid of baccy,” and I was left alone -with my second acquaintance. I was not long in finding out, -according to his statement, that he was a “converted -Jew,” and had been to the “Cape” and lost -£5000 in the diamond fields, and had come home <a -name="page47"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 47</span>to -“pull up” again, instead of which, he had gone from -bad to worse, and was now tramping the country with an old -showman as a “fire king,” and sleeping under the -stage among old boxes, rags, and straw. His real name was -—, but was passing through the world as W—. -Strange to say, I knew his brother-in-law, who is a leading man -in one of the large English towns.</p> -<p>When I asked the “fire king” how he liked his new -profession, he said, “Not at all; at first it was dreadful -to get into the taste of the paraffin and oil. After you -have put the blazing fusees into your mouth, they leave a taste -that does not mix up very well with your food. Paraffin is -a good thing for the rheumatics. I never have them -now.” I questioned him as to the process the mouth -underwent previous to the admission of lighted fusees. -“If you keep your mouth wet,” he replied, “have -plenty of courage, and breathe out freely, the blazing fire will -not hurt you.” My new friend had much of a suspicious -cast upon his features; so much so, indeed, that in one of his -tramps from Norwich to Bury St. Edmunds, in one day he was taken -up three times as “one who was wanted” by the -policeman, for doing work not of an angelic kind.</p> -<p>In a van belonging to the owner of “a show of -varieties,” there were eight children, besides man, wife, -and mother-in-law. The showman could read, and chatter -almost like a flock of crows; but none of the children, including -several little ones, who assisted him in his performances, could -either read or write, except one or two who had a “little -smattering.” The showman quite gloried in having -beaten the Durham School Board authorities, who had summoned him -for not sending his children to school, while temporarily -residing in the city. He defied them to produce the Act of -Parliament compelling him as a traveller to send his children to -school. The school <a name="page48"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 48</span>authorities had sued him under their -own by-laws, and as they could not produce the Act, he came off -with flying colours.</p> -<p>Business was slack with this showman, and he undertook to -introduce me to all the “showmen and shows” in the -gipsy fair. Of course, I had only time to visit a few of -the <i>best</i> specimens. The first show, which was to be -a pattern of perfection, was “boarded.” I must -confess I did not much like the idea of mounting the steps, in -the face of thousands of sightseers, to pass through -“fools,” jesters, mountebanks, and painted women -dressed in little better than “tights,” and amidst -the clash of gongs and drums. I kept my back to the crowd, -slouched my cap, buttoned up my coat to the throat, hung down my -head, and crept in to witness one of the “Sights of -London.” After I had duly arrived inside, I was -introduced to my friends the leading performers, amongst whom -were the smallest huntsman in the world and the youngest -jockey. While we were fraternizing, a row commenced between -two of the leading women connected with the show. Two -travelling showmen—brothers—had married two -travelling showwomen—sisters—among whom jealousy had -sprung up. Tears and oaths were likely to be followed by -blows sharp and strong and a scattering of beautiful locks of -hair. I seemed to be in a fair way for landing into the -midst of a terrible row between the two masculine sisters, whose -arms and legs indicated no small amount of muscular strength, -while their eyes blazed with mischief. One of the dressed -showmen, an acrobat, came to me and said, that I was not to think -anything of the <i>fracas</i>, the women had had only a little -chip out, they would be sobered down in a little time. The -women came round me with their tale, but I thought it the wisest -plan not to interfere in the matter, and kept “mum,” -for fear that I might get my bones into trouble. Happily -the policeman <a name="page49"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -49</span>appeared upon the scene, and before the curtain dropped, -and the performing pony had finished his antics, I had with my -showman friend made myself scarce. He said he was very -sorry, and apologized for having introduced me to his friends -under such circumstances. I could see he was chopfallen at -the result, as this was a “going concern” in which -all parties engaged were to be held up to me as paragons of -perfection in the performing and showing business.</p> -<p>My showman friend, according to his own statements, had been -almost everything in the “show” line, ranging from -that of a tramp to an “old fool.” To my mind he -was well qualified for either, or anything else in this line of -business, with will strong enough to drag his eight children -after him; at any rate, himself and his large family were going -fast to ruin.</p> -<p>I now visited wax-work shows, and saw the noble heads of the -great and good arranged side by side with those of notorious -murderers and scamps, reminding me very much of what is to be the -lot of all of us in our last resting-place. I had the -opportunity of seeing the greatest horse alive, “dog -monkeys,” “tight-rope dancers,” performing -“kanigros,” “white bears,” “stag -hunt,” “slave market,” “working model of -Jumbo,” “fat women,” acrobat dancers, female -jugglers, Indian sack feat, female Blondin, cannon firing, and a -lifeboat to the rescue. My friend wanted his tea, and left -me now to pursue my way as best I could. For a few minutes -I stood and looked at the scene; under the glare of their lamps -actors pulled their faces, performed their megrims, danced their -dances, chuckled, winked, shouted, and rattled their copper and -silver, as the simpletons stepped upon the platform to -“step in and take their places before the performance -commenced.” Of course all the shows in the fair were -not to be classed in the black list. In some of them useful -information and knowledge <a name="page50"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 50</span>were to be gained. It was the -debasing surroundings that had such a demoralizing effect upon -the young folks.</p> -<p>Turning from the shows I began again to visit the vans. -In one van owned by a Mr. B. there were a man, woman, and nine -children, four of whom were of school age. The woman had -been a Sunday-school teacher in her early days, but, alas! in an -evil hour, she had listened to the voice of the charmer, and down -she began to travel on the path to ruin, and she is still -travelling with post haste, unless God in His goodness and mercy -hath opened her eyes. She told me that she would have sent -four of the children to school last winter while they were -staying with their van at Brentwood, but the school authorities -would not allow them without an undertaking that the children -should be sent for one year. They were on Chigwell Common -all last winter, and could have sent their children to -school. She said they were often a month in a place, and -would be glad to send the children to school if means were -adopted whereby the children could go as other children go. -None of them except the poor woman could tell a letter. She -had been brought up in a Church of England Sunday school, and -could repeat the creeds, &c. “Sometimes,” -she said, “I teach the children to say their prayers; but -what use is it among all those bad children and bad folks? -It is like mockery to teach children to pray when all about are -swearing. I often have a good cry over my Sunday -dinner,” said the poor woman, “when I hear the church -bells ringing. The happy days of my childhood seem to rise -up before me, and my Sunday-school hours, and the sweet tunes we -used to sing seem to ring in my ears.”</p> -<blockquote><p>“Oh, come, come to school,<br /> -Your teachers join in praises<br /> -On this the happy pearl of days;<br /> -Oh, come, come away.</p> -<p><a name="page51"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 51</span>The -Sabbath is a blessed day,<br /> -On which we meet to praise and pray,<br /> -And march the heavenly way;<br /> -Oh, come, come away.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>And, with a deep-drawn sigh, she said, “Ah! they will -never come again; no, never! I should like to meet all my -children in heaven; but with a life like this it cannot, and I -suppose will not be.” I gave the children some little -books and some coppers, and then bade her good-bye with a sad and -heavy heart, which I sometimes feel when I witness such sorrowful -sights. Among the crowd of sightseers were, gaudily dressed -in showy colours, a number of “gipsy girls,” anxious -to tell simpletons “their fortunes;” and I rather -fancy a goodly number listened to their bewitching tales and -lies. Dr. Donne, in “Fuller’s Worthies,” -says of gipsies—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Take me a face as full of frawde and -lyes<br /> -As gipsies in your common lottereyes,<br /> -That is more false and more sophisticate<br /> -Than our saints’ reliques, or man of state;<br /> -Yet such being glosed by the sleight of arte,<br /> -Faine admiration, wininge many a hart.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>I next came upon a gipsy tent, <i>i.e.</i>, a few sticks stuck -in the ground and partly covered with rags and old -sheeting. The bed in this tent was a scattering of straw -upon the damp, cold ground. Here were a man, woman, and -four children. The woman and children were in a most -pitiable condition. None could tell a letter. One of -the children lay crouched upon a little straw—and it was a -cold day—in one corner of the tent. Such a pitiable -object I have never seen. It was very ill; it could not -speak, stand, hear, or eat; and it was terribly emaciated. -If ever sin in this world had blighted humanity, before me lay a -little human being upon whom sin seemed to have poured forth its -direful vengeance without stint or measure. With an aching -heart I deeply sympathized <a name="page52"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 52</span>with the gipsy woman and little gipsy -children, whose sad condition is worse than the Rev. Mark Guy -Pearse’s “Rob Rat,” which could scarcely be; -and I did what I could to cheer them.</p> -<p style="text-align: center"> -<a href="images/p51b.jpg"> -<img alt= -"Two English gipsy princesses “at home”" -title= -"Two English gipsy princesses “at home”" - src="images/p51s.jpg" /> -</a></p> -<p>I visited a number of tents, and wandered among the poor -children and gipsy dogs that were squatting about in the dark -upon the cold, wet ground. One fine-faced gipsy Lee and his -good gipsy wife have had a family of nineteen children, all of -whom were born on the roadside; most of whom are now grown up and -have large families. It is fearful to contemplate the -number of gipsy wanderers and hedgebottom travellers from this -family who are neither doing themselves or the country any -good.</p> -<p>There were on the “Flats” at the gipsy fair about -one hundred and thirty families in tents and in vans; and of this -number there would be forty families squatting about with their -lurcher dogs, ready for any kind of game, big or little, black or -white, bound by bars or as free as the air. As a rule a -gipsy’s list of game includes, according to Asiatic notions -and ideas, all the eatable live or dead stock in creation that -either he or his dog can lay their hands upon or stick their -teeth into.</p> -<p>There must have been over four hundred gipsy and other -travelling children going without education, and not one could -ever have been in a Sunday school.</p> -<p>It was about 10.30. The mouths and hearts of those who -were left began to breed venomous, waspish words. At any -rate, all the more steady and sensible part of the sightseers -were wending their way homewards. Others were making for -the beershops and public-houses, and the riff-raff were loitering -about for what they could pick up. Policemen seemed to be -creeping upon the ground, buttoned up to the throat, and ready -for any emergency.</p> -<p>A few yards from where I was standing I noticed, by <a -name="page53"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 53</span>the aid of -gas, naptha, and paraffin, a gipsyish-looking man standing, -opposite one of the cottages, with his arms folded over the -palings. I soon found out that he was a gipsy, but had -recently taken to house-dwelling, and was now engaged in -labourer’s work with bricklayers. He invited me into -his comfortably furnished house, and introduced me to his tidy -wife, who was not a gipsy, and two good-looking little -children. I had a few minutes’ chat with them. -He gave me a short account of the suffering, trials, and -hardships which he endured while tramping the country, and living -in tents, and under vans, and on the roadside. “In -early life,” he said, “when I was quite a child, I -was placed with my uncle, who is a gipsy horsedealer, to live -with him and my aunt, in their van. For a time they behaved -well to me, and I slept in the van at nights. From some -cause or other, which I have never been able to make out, I was -sent to sleep under the van with the dogs’, and to lie upon -straw with but little covering. My food now was such as I -could pick up—turnips, potatoes, or any mortal thing that I -could lay my hands upon. In the winter time I have had to -gnaw and nibble a cold turnip for my dinner like a sheep. I -used to have to run about in all weathers to do the dirty work of -my uncle, mind his horses, ponies, and donkeys in the lanes and -fields, for which he would not give me either food, clothing, or -lodgings, other than what I looked out for myself. My -clothing I used to beg, and, when once put upon my back, there -they stuck till they dropped off by pieces. I had a hard -time of it for many years, I can tell you, and no mistake. -My uncle is now a gentleman horsedealer, and keeps his carriage -and his servants to wait upon him. He is well known in -London. If he meets or sees me in the streets he turns his -head another way, and won’t look at me, though I helped to -make his fortune. Every dog has its day, and <a -name="page54"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 54</span>my turn may -come. We gave up drink, and I go to the church and chapel -when I have the chance, and I am all the better for it, thank -God. I may be as well off as my cruel old uncle some -day.” I shook hands with this gipsy family, and bade -them God speed, and turned again into the fair and among the -gipsy tents. Some of the gipsy and other travelling -children were running about picking up scraps and crumbs that had -fallen from the bad man’s table. Every piece of paper -that had the appearance of having been folded up was eyed over -with eager curiosity and wonder by the poor little urchins before -they would believe that it was full of emptiness.</p> -<p>The women were putting the little gipsies to bed, and their -evening prayers in many cases were oaths. They had never -been taught to lisp the evening prayer—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Jesus, tender Shepherd, hear me,<br /> - Bless Thy little lamb to-night;<br /> -Through the darkness be Thou near me,<br /> - Keep me safe till morning light.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>They threw off their outer garments, rolled under some old, -dirty, filthy rags at one end of their little tent, crouching -together like so many pigs, and snoozed and snored away till -morning, except when they were trampled upon or wakened by their -drunken gipsy parents. It is horrible to think that not one -of this number, between six and seven hundred men, women, and -children—so far as I have been able to make out—ever -attended a place of worship on Sundays, or offered a prayer to -God at eventide. Sin! sin! wretchedness, misery, and -degradation from the year’s beginning to the year’s -end! Would to God that a comet from His throne, as they sit -under the starlight of heaven, would flash and flash upon their -mental vision till they asked themselves the question, -“Whither are we bound?” Christian England!</p> -<blockquote><p><a name="page55"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -55</span>“Up! a great work lies before you,<br /> -Duty’s standard waveth o’er you.</p> -<p>Stretch a hand to save the sinking<br /> -Carried down sin’s tide unthinking.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>“The pangs of hell,” as the Rev. C. H. Spurgeon -says in the <i>Christian Herald</i>, March 31, 1880, “do -not alarm them, and the joys of heaven do not entice them” -to do their duty. With tears of blood I would say, Oh that -the voice of Parliament and the action of the Government were -seen and heard taking steps to educate the poor gipsy children, -so that they may be enabled to read and repeat prayers—even -if their parents have lost parental regard and affection for -their own offspring.</p> -<p>The business of the day was now over, and it was evident that -the time had arrived for “paying off old -scores.” The men and women had begun to collect -together in groups. Murmurings and grumblings were -heard. The tumult increased, and presently from one group -shouts of “Give it him, Jock” were echoing in the -air, disturbing the stillness of the night. Thumps, thuds, -and shrieks followed each other in rapid succession. I -closed in with the bystanders. Blood began to flow from the -“millers,” who looked murderously savage at each -other. Thus they went on “up and down Welsh -fashion” for a few minutes, till one gipsy woman cried out, -“He’s broken Jock’s nose, a beast -him.” The policeman came now quietly along as if his -visit would have done on the morrow. One woman shouted out, -“Bobby is coming, now it is all over.” To me it -looked as if “Bobby” did not like the job of quelling -gipsy rows; if he had to quell them it would seem that he had -rather they let off some of the steam got up by revenge, spite, -and beer before he tackled them.</p> -<p>While this gang of gipsies were separating, another row was -going on near to a large public-house, to which I <a -name="page56"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 56</span>hastened, and -arrived in time to see one of them “throw up the -sponge.” There were no less than half a dozen fights -in less than half an hour. It was now half-past eleven, and -I began to think that it was quite time that I looked out for my -night’s lodging, so I entered into council with the -policeman. We visited eating-houses, coffee-houses, -lodging-houses, public-houses, and shops in Forest Gate without -success. The policeman advised me to walk to -Stratford. This I could not do, for I began to feel rather -queer and giddy; my only prospect was either to pass the night at -the station, on the “Flats,” or return by the last -train. No time was to be lost. I hastily took my -ticket, and almost rolled and tumbled down the steps and into the -train, which took me to Fenchurch Street Station, in a somewhat -bewildered state as to my next move forward. For a minute -or two I stood still, lost in wonder. The policeman soon -appeared on the scene with his “Please move on” and -gruff voice. I told him I wanted to “move on,” -if he would tell me where to move to. “There -are,” answered the policeman, “plenty of shops to -move into in London, if that is what you mean. It depends -what sort of shop you want. If you have got plenty of -money, there is the ‘Three Nuns.’” And he -also pointed out one or two other first-class places in -Aldgate. I bade the policeman good night, and went across -the street to look at the “Three Nuns,” which was -being closed for the night. The outside of the place -indicated to me that I should have to dip more deeply into my -pocket than my financial position would allow, and I turned to -look for fresh quarters in Aldgate. It was now past twelve -o’clock, and all the places, except one or two, were -closed. On the door of an eating-house and coffee-shop I -espied a light, and thither I went. Fortunately the -servants were about, and the landlady was enjoying her midnight -meal. A bed was promised, and after a <a -name="page57"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 57</span>long chat -with the landlady and some supper, I was shown into my room, the -appearance of which I did not like; but it was -“Hobson’s choice, that or none.” There -were two locks upon the door, and I had taken the precaution to -have plenty of candles and matches with me. It looked as if -a broken-down gentleman had been occupying it for some time, who -had suddenly decamped, leaving no traces of his -whereabouts. There was but little clothing upon the bed, -and the springs were broken and “humpy.” I -turned into it to do the best I could till morning. The -smell of the room was that of sin. The rattling about the -stairs during the whole of the night was not of a nature to -produce a soothing sensation. I felt with Charles Wesley, -when he wrote</p> -<blockquote><p>“God of my life, whose gracious power<br /> -Through varied deaths my soul hath led,<br /> -Or turned aside the fatal hour,<br /> -Or lifted up my sinking head.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>It would have been helpful if I could have sung out in this -miserable abode, for such it was to me—</p> -<blockquote><p>“My song shall wake with opening light,<br -/> -And cheer the dark and silent night.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>I tossed about nearly all night, and at seven o’clock I -turned out to get an early breakfast, and to make my way back to -“Wanstead Flats” to have a last peep at my gipsy -friends. I arrived about eight o’clock. Some of -the show folks and show keepers must have had but little sleep, -for I found them moving off the Flats for a run out to their -country seats, leaving behind them the seeds of sin, sown by -ignorance, fostered by an evil heart, and watered by oaths and -curses.</p> -<p>I turned in to have another chat with my gipsy friends, who -had taken to house-dwelling, and to listen to their pretty little -girl singing as only children can sing</p> -<blockquote><p style="text-align: center">“Whither, -pilgrims, are you going?”</p> -</blockquote> -<p><a name="page58"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 58</span>which -caused me to undergo a process of screwing up my feeling, and -winking and blinking to avoid any sign of weakness becoming -visible.</p> -<p>What a blessed future there would be for our gipsies and other -vagabonds, if all their children could sing with tear-fetching -pathos, “Whither, pilgrims, are you going,” in a way -that would bring their parents often to their knees!</p> -<p>I bade them good-bye, and made my way back to London and -home. I was far from well, and it was fortunate I had sent -word over-night to my wife, asking her to meet me part of the way -from the station, as I was coming by the last train.</p> -<p>The night was dark, very dark and wet, and with a giddy -sensation creeping over me, I stepped out of the train and began -to wend my way home, reeling about like a drunken man. I -staggered and walked fairly well for more than half the distance, -till I felt that I must pull up or I should tumble. For a -few minutes I stood by a gate, my forehead and hands felt as cold -as a lobster, with a clammy sweat upon them. I felt at my -pulse, but the deadness of my fingers rendered them insensible to -the throbbings of the human gauge fixed in our wrists.</p> -<p>Not a star in the heavens was visible to send its little -twinkling cheer. If the bright brilliant guiding lamps of -heaven had receded ten degrees backwards into the dark boundless -space, the heavens could not have been darker. Everything -was as still as death, and I did not seem to be making any -headway at all. Neither sound of man nor horse could be -heard. Oh! how I did wish and pray that somebody would pass -by to give me a lift. I made another start, and had got as -far as a heap of stones on the side of the road, when I felt that -if I were to swoon, or to have a fit, or die, it would be better -to be off the road. I was just going to sit upon the heap -of stones, and <a name="page59"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -59</span>had dropped my “Gladstone bags,” when I -heard the patter of some little feet in the distance. I -pricked up my ears, and shouted out as loud as I could, -“Halloo, who’s there.” The answer came -from my wife and little folks, “It is we.” I -was steadied home between them, and found to my joy a good fire -and supper awaiting me. I then thanked God for all His -mercies and retired to my couch, feeling as Richard Wilton, M.A., -felt when he penned the following lines for the <i>Christian -Miscellany</i>, 1882—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Some fruit of labour will remain,<br /> -And bending ears shall whisper low,<br /> - Not all in -vain.”</p> -</blockquote> -<h2><a name="page60"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -60</span>Rambles among the Gipsies at Northampton Races.</h2> -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the midst of doubts and -perplexities, sometimes inspired with confidence and at other -times full of misgivings, and with my future course completely -hidden from me as if I had been encircled by the blackest -midnight darkness, with only one little bright star to be seen, I -mustered up the little courage left in me; and with great -difficulty and many tears of sorrow and disappointment, I started -by the first train, with as light a load of troubles as possible -under the circumstances, to find my way to Northampton races, to -pick up such facts and information relating to the poor little -gipsy tramps that Providence placed in my way, or I could collect -together.</p> -<p>After the usual jostling, crushing, and scrambling by road and -rail, smoke, oaths, betting, gambling, and swearing, I found -myself seated in a tramcar in company with one gentleman only, -and, strange to say, of the name of “Smith,” but not -a “gipsy Smith,” nor a racing “Smith,” of -whom there are a few; in fact, there are more gipsies of the name -of “Smith” than there are of any other name. It -may be fortunate or unfortunate <a name="page61"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 61</span>for me that I cannot trace my lineage -to a “gipsy Smith,” and that my birthplace was not -under some hedge bottom, with the wide, wide world as a larder -that never needed replenishing by hard toil. All required -of the “gipsy kings” of the ditch bank, now as in -days of yore—so long as the present laws are winked at, and -others intended to reach them are shelved—is to -“rise, kill, and eat,” for to-morrow we die, and the -devil take the hindmost. My friend Mr. Smith was left in -the car, and I sped my way upon the course. I had not been -long in wandering about before I was joined by a -respectable-looking old man, who evidently had done his share of -hard work on “leather and nails,” and was on the -lookout for ease and fresh air during the remainder of his -pilgrimage to the one of two places in store for him. After -a few minutes’ conversation about the “ities” -and “isms” rampant at Northampton, and our various -views upon them, we separated at the edge of the gipsy -encampment, wigwams, squalor, and filth. I took the right -turning—at least I have no doubt about its proving so in -the long run—and he took the left turning; and to this day -we have not run against each other again.</p> -<p>The gipsies, <i>Push</i>-gipsies, and Gorgios were hard at -work putting up their tents and establishments, and I in the -meantime walked and trotted the course in a morning’s -airing fashion, coming in contact occasionally with a sceptic, -infidel, and freethinker. These were turned away in my -rough fashion, and my wandering racing meditations brought forth -some of the following seeds of thought as I paced backwards and -forwards upon the turf. At any rate they are problems, -maxims, and aphorisms—such as they are—that have -appeared before my vision in my gipsy rambles as I have been -working out my gipsy plans, and are, I think, as worthy of a -place here as the misleading gipsy lore and lies we have read and -heard of. <a name="page62"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -62</span>Some of these will probably die as they bud into life, -others may keep green for a little time, and there may be a few -that will live and cause a few wanderers to take notes of the -journey:</p> -<p>Little, cramped, and twisted ideas of God are the outcome of -froth and foam, set in motion by thwarted conceit and mortified -vanity.</p> -<p>Vaunted scepticism is the poisonous fungus of decaying minds -and rotten ideas.</p> -<p>Infidelity is hellish divinity gone mad.</p> -<p>Nihilists and Fenians are crawlers, who crawl out of rotten -heaps of wrongs, which the light of day turns into devil-flies, -with fiery hate in their eyes and poisonous stings in their -tails.</p> -<p>Socialists and Communists are the rotten toads of society, -whose love for the country’s welfare consists in inflating -themselves till they burst, like the frog in the fable.</p> -<p>Infidels and sceptics are the devil’s bats, with one of -their wings cropped shorter than the other.</p> -<p>The froth, foams, and fumes of sceptics and infidels are only -a little hellish mist that temporarily dims our eyeglasses, which -the sun of truth dispels with laughing smiles.</p> -<p>The soft tears of love are the nightly mist-drops of heaven, -which the dawn of the eternity turns into the everlasting -snowdrops of paradise.</p> -<p>Our godly prayers sent heavenward are preserved by our -heavenly Father, and will, on our arrival on the shores of -paradise, become the merry pealing bells of heaven which will -chime through eternal ages.</p> -<p>In the spirit of disobedience there is an unseen power that -can draw down the greatest curse of Heaven.</p> -<p>The spirit of love is a heavenly wand that causes everything -to laugh and dance that comes under its influence.</p> -<p>The spirit of hate is a Satanic rod of such baneful influence -that it withers and kills everything that it touches.</p> -<p><a name="page63"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 63</span>Our -loving, trickling tears of penitence and contrition are being -collected by God to form the pure, transparent streams and rivers -of joy and gladness which are to run through the celestial city; -and those whose lot it has been to shed many upon earth will have -increased happiness in heaven from the fact that they have -contributed more largely to make heaven more beautiful and lovely -by adding to the refreshing streams of paradise.</p> -<p>The prayers of trouble of God’s children upon earth are -being reset in heaven to angelic music, which, on our landing -upon the heavenly shores, are to be our songs of joy and -praise.</p> -<p>Selfish, hollow, hypocritical, sleek-tongued deceivers are the -four-faced and four-headed Satanic demons of society. Their -home is among the mud; they can smile in the sunshine; but their -deeds are dirty and poisonous. They are difficult to catch, -but more difficult to hold when caught.</p> -<p>Pop-gun liberality, when it is the outcome of a little, bad -heart, selfishness, and pride, may be compared to bubbles rising -upon putrid waters. In the distance, and with a smiling -sun, the various colours present a beautiful enchanting -appearance; but as you near them the blackness, fitfulness, and -stench is observable, and you turn away disgusted.</p> -<p>A double-headed face without eyes is he who spends a lifetime -in wrecking others to hoard up ill-gotten gold, which, when in -the last extremity and in fear of being wrecked himself, he -throws overboard to some benevolent object, trusting to -God’s lovingkindness and tender mercies to turn it into a -lifeboat that will bring him safe to land.</p> -<p>As the sun is the centre of our solar system of heavenly -bodies, giving light to the eleven illuminating planets of -various colours, Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Ceres, Pallas, -Juno, Vesta, Jupiter, Saturn, and the <i>Georgium Sidus</i> -moving round it, so in like manner is <span -class="smcap">Love</span> the centre <a name="page64"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 64</span>of the heavenly graces, giving light -and beauty to the eleven Christian characteristics, joy, peace, -longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, industry, -honesty, temperance, and chastity.</p> -<p>Every action of retaliation is a bunch of hard prickles, and -it has in the centre of it a wasps’ nest, and the buzzing -of the wasps can be heard and their stings felt by the -bystanders; while every act of love is a collection of perfumed, -fragrance-scented oils, with a cooing dove on the top as a -guard.</p> -<p>Retaliation and revenge are a dark cave, sending forth -sulphurous fumes and the groans of hell; while forgiveness and -love are a lovely garden of fragrant flowers, with cooing doves -and rippling water-brooks in the midst, sending forth heavenly -music.</p> -<p>As the process of “inoculation” applied to flowers -gives to us the most beautiful coloured, tinted, edged, and -lovely flowers, so in like manner it is with the Spirit of -Christ. When once the Spirit of Christ is brought into -contact with our human nature, refined sentiment and -feelings—the Christian graces—soon become -manifest.</p> -<p>As the wind and storm shake off the fruit which has the least -hold upon the tree, so in like manner it is with the members of -Christian Churches and the State. Those members and -citizens the most careless, loveless, and cold, who have the -least hold upon the Church, God, and the State, storms and -persecution readily bring to the ground.</p> -<p>Death-wishers, with evil hearts, in pursuit of a good man, are -the parents and life-bearers of immortal fame, which will sit -upon the object of their malice, hate, and spite as a crown of -precious jewels; and that which they intended and still intend to -be the arrow of death God has turned and is turning into a tree -of life, ever budding, blossoming, and teeming with endless -delicious fruits.</p> -<p><a name="page65"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 65</span>Hope is -the magic Luna of heaven let down and swinging to and fro in -earth by golden cords, which answers to the call of young or old, -rich or poor, wise or simple, learned or ignorant, and transfers -darkness into light, hell into heaven, and devils into -saints. Under its power poverty becomes riches, tears of -sorrow songs of joy, sickness health, and death life.</p> -<p>The last man stands the first on a backward course.</p> -<p>An idle man is the devil’s standard-bearer, and works -harder and does more service by his example than any man in the -black force.</p> -<p>The first man who arrives at the top of a hill is the man to -live the longest, see the most, and enjoy the most happiness.</p> -<p>Mysterious actions, according to the intent of the author, are -either the seeds of life or the seeds of death.</p> -<p>As fire and cooking brings out the sweetness of food to make -it digestible, so in like manner the fiery trials of affliction -bring out the sweetness of a Christian character, making his path -through life pleasant, agreeable, and profitable.</p> -<p>Private prayer is the Christian’s log, which indicates -the rate he travels towards heaven, and Christlike acts of -benevolence are the log-book in which his speed is -registered.</p> -<p>When a professing Christian dances about among the members of -Christian Churches solely for the sake of trade and filthy lucre, -it may be taken as an indication that he has stuck a broom upon -his masthead, and is open for sale to the highest bidder.</p> -<p>Birds, bees, and wasps pick the finest and sweetest fruit, so -in like manner naughty men, women, and children pick at the -sweetest children of heaven whom God loves and smiles upon.</p> -<p>False, misleading sentiment is the devil’s tonic sol-fa, -set to music to suit his hearers.</p> -<p><a name="page66"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 66</span>To keep -out of fogs is to live on a hill, so in like manner to keep out -of damping thoughts and foggy doubts about God’s ways and -doings is to live high up in His favour.</p> -<p>As atmospheric influences round marshy spots, rushy swamps, -and low meadows produce a meteoric light called -“Jack-o’-Lantern,” which in the distance looks -beautiful to outsiders flitting about in the dark, carried by an -unseen hand, but which is dangerous to follow, so in like manner -it is with scientific Christianity apart from the Gospel.</p> -<p>A scientific Christian held up as a light without Christ is a -“Will-o’-the Wisp” Christian.</p> -<p>Fawners and flatterers are like dogs that have worms in their -tails and wag them to strangers; they are not to be trusted.</p> -<p>A backslider is a tree with three parts of the top cut down, -leaving sufficient above ground to serve as a warning to others, -or as a post upon which to hang a gate to prevent others passing -that way.</p> -<p>If a writer wishes to add lustre to his literary fame, he will -best succeed in his purpose by turning “French -polisher,” instead of becoming a literary thief.</p> -<p>To polish and give artistic touches to a crude cabinet, -bringing out its beauty and defects, showing the knots and grain, -gives credit to the artist; while to run away with the rough and -unpolished jewels it contains, claiming as his own that which -belongs to another, brings disgrace and ruin.</p> -<p>To drive successfully along the crooked and zigzag lanes of -life, time and space must be taken to go round the corners. -Fools can drive along a straight level, but it takes a wise man -to round the down-hill corners without a spill over.</p> -<p>Gilt and crested harness does not improve the quality of a -poor emaciated, bony, half-starved horse; so in like manner a few -Oxford and Cambridge gilt touches put <a name="page67"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 67</span>upon a sensual, backwood gipsy -romantic tale, will not improve the condition of our gipsies and -their children.</p> - -<div class="gapspace"> </div> -<p>My wandering meditation being over, I now drew myself up to a -gipsy “grand stand.” To all sensible, good men -it appears as a <i>horrible fall</i> rather than the “grand -stand.” Thousands of young men and women, trained by -Christian, godly parents, have been brought to ruin by its rotten -foundation and evil associations. It is a -“stand” from which men and women can see—if -they will open their eyes—the wrath of God, the roads to -destruction, and the “course” to hell.</p> -<p>My first salutation was from three big grizzly poachers’ -snaps, a kind of cross between a bloodhound, greyhound, and a -bulldog, that lay at the entrance of a wigwam, in which lay a -burly fellow marked with small-pox, and whose hair was close -shaven off his head and from round his coarse, thick neck. -This specimen of an English gipsy possessed a puggish kind of -nose, a large mouth, and his clothes seemed “greasy and -shiny.” The woman looked an intelligent, strong kind -of woman, and well fitted, to all appearance, for a better -life. Round a tin pot upon the greensward there were three -other gipsy tramps, kneeling and gnawing meat off a bone like -dogs, with bread by their sides. They did not growl like -dogs, but they showed me their teeth and muttered, and this was -quite sufficient. The occupation of this gang seemed to be -that of attending to a cocoa-nut establishment, the profits of -which, during the races, they had travelled from London by road -in three days to secure. To me it appeared all were fish -that came to their net; and if they did not come of their own -accord, they would not think twice before fetching them. -This gipsy wigwam was the kitchen, drawing-room, dining-room, -bedroom, &c., for four men, one woman, and two big girls, not -one of whom could <a name="page68"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -68</span>read and write. The only little gleam of light -which shone from the conversation in this dark abode was when -they referred to some gipsies, who, they said, had been -“putting on a pretence of religion in order to fill their -pocket,” and they knew one who “saved over £800 -since he had been religious.” “If I must be -religious, I would be religious, and no mistake about it,” -said another. At this they began to swear fearfully. -I mentioned several gipsies who had given up their old habits, -and, as I told them, had begun to lead better lives. -“Never,” they said, with a vengeance; to which I -answered, “By their fruits shall ye know them.” -I then shook hands, and wended my way to the next -establishment. This was an old cart covered over entirely -with calico from the ridge to the ground. Connected with -this van there were two men and a boy, who, it seems, are novices -at the cocoa-nut profession. To me it appeared that they -were tired of the hard work and tightness of town life, and were -trying their fortune at gipsying and idle-mongering. On the -course there would be nearly twenty cocoa-nut -“saloons.” Connected with three of the vans on -the course there were sixteen children and eight men and women, -only one of whom could read and write. In one of the three -vans there was a poor little girl of about nine summers evidently -in the last stage of consumption. Her cheeks were sunken, -shallow, and pale; her fingers were long and thin; her eyes -glassy bright, and black hair hung in tangled masses over her -shoulders. I gave the poor girl a penny as she stood at the -door of the filthy van, for which, with much effort she said, -“Thank you, sir,” and sat down on the floor. I -said to the mother, formerly a Smith, but now a G—, -“Why don’t you get the poor child attended -to?” She replied as follows: “Well, sir, gipsy -children have much more to put up with now than they formerly -had. They cannot half stand the cold and <a -name="page69"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 69</span>damp we used -to do. They are always catching cold. I only bought a -bottle of medicine this morning for which I paid half a crown, -and I cannot be expected to do more. She has been staying -some time with her grandmother at Bristol, but we did not like -leaving her there in case anything happened to her. If she -is to die, we gipsies like our children to die in the van or tent -with us, as may be. We like to see the last of them. -We have hard times of it, we poor women and children have, I can -assure you, sir.” The woman had now begun to do some -washing in earnest, not before it was needed, and while she was -scrubbing away at the rags in a tin pail, she began to tell me -some of her history and that of her grandfather. She said -that her mother had “had fifteen children, all born under -the hedge-bottom, nearly all of whom are alive.” I -asked her if any of her family could read and write, and she -said, “No, excepting the poor little girl you see, and she -can read and write a little, having been to a day school in -Bristol for a few weeks last winter. I wish they could read -and write, sir, it would be a blessed thing if they -could.” She now referred to her grandfather. At -this her eyes brightened up. She said, “My -grandfather was a soldier in the Queen’s -service”—the poor gipsy woman did not understand -history so well as cooking hedgehogs in a patter of -clay—“and fought in the battle when Lord Nelson was -killed. And do you know, sir, after Lord Nelson was killed, -he was put into a cask of rum to be preserved, while he was -brought to England to be buried; and I dare say that you will not -believe me—my grandfather was one of those who had charge -of the body; but he got drunk on some of the rum in which Lord -Nelson was pickled, and he was always fond of talking about it to -his dying day.” I said, “Do you like -rum.” “Yes, we poor gipsies could live upon rum -and ‘’bacca.’” In the van in which -the poor gipsy child and its mother lived there <a -name="page70"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 70</span>were a man, a -baby a few weeks old, and four other children, huddling together -night and day in a most demoralizing and degrading -condition. While standing by the side of this tumble-down -van I found that vans and tents, in which people eat, live, -sleep, and die, are put to other shocking, filthy, and sickening -purposes during fairs and races than habitations for human beings -to dwell in. Sanitary officers, moralists, and Christians -must be asleep all over the country. In going by and round -one van I noticed an old woman storming away at some children -with an amount of temper and earnestness that almost frightened -me. Immediately I arrived at the door, and almost before I -could say “Jack Robinson,” she dropped down into a -position with which miners and gipsies are so familiarly -accustomed, and began to tremble, shed “crocodile -tears,” and tell a pitiful tale of the sorrows and troubles -of her life, intermixing it with “my dear sirs,” -“good mans,” “God bless yous.” -Every now and then she would look up to heaven, and present a -picture of the most saintly woman upon earth. When I asked -her how old she was, she said she was a long way over seventy, -but could not tell me exactly. She further said that she -had had sixteen children, all born under the hedge-bottom, nearly -all of them gipsies up and down the country, some of whom were -grandmothers and grandfathers at the present time. And then -she would begin another pitiful tale as follows, “If you -please, my good sir, will you give me a copper, I do assure you -that I have not tasted anything to eat this day, and I am almost -famished with hunger.” And then with trembling -emotion she said, wringing her hands, “I shall die before -morning.” After my visits to the other vans, and -before going home, I turned unexpectedly to have another peep at -the old gipsy woman, whom I found to be a long way off dying, and -in all probability I shall see her again before she passes over -to the great eternity.</p> -<p style="text-align: center"> -<a href="images/p69b.jpg"> -<img alt= -"An English gipsy Duchess—Smith—“rheumaticky -and lame”" -title= -"An English gipsy Duchess—Smith—“rheumaticky -and lame”" - src="images/p69s.jpg" /> -</a></p> -<p><a name="page71"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 71</span>Among -the rest, sitting upon a low stool and drinking beer, there was a -big, bony, coarse Frenchman, whom I found out to be a -Communist. He was ostensibly selling calico, lace, and -other trifles. His eyes were fiery, mouth ugly, on account -of its having been put to foul purposes, and his demeanour that -of an excited Fenian maddened by revenge and murder. Round -him were a number of poor ignorant folks who could neither read -nor write, and as they listened to his lies and infamy about the -clergy, ministers, the well-to-do tradesmen, professional -gentlemen, noblemen, and royalty, they opened their eyes and -mouths as if horrified at his words and actions. Among -other things he said the clergy of the Church of England were in -receipt of over £20,000,000 per annum out of the pockets of -the poor. I questioned him as to the source from which it -came, and if he could point out the items in the Budget. At -this he began to get excited and said, “It came from direct -and indirect taxes.” I said, “Can you give me -one instance or give me particulars in any shape setting forth -the direct taxes in this country collected for the benefit of the -clergy to the amount you say?” Instead of replying to -this question he began to stutter and stammer, and appeared -before me with his fists shut, exhibiting all sorts of mountebank -megrims to the terror of some of the listeners and amusement of -others. In the end I calmed him down, and he asked me if I -would buy a parrot of him if I saw him again in two years’ -time. One of those who stood by said, “He has got -parrots enough of his own without buying more.”</p> -<p>Connected with one of the cocoa-nut establishments, and owned -by a good-hearted gipsy from London, there were the clowns, -fools, hunchbacked old women, and other simpletons to catch the -“foolish and the gay.” At the back of this -establishment there were all sorts of painted devices, or I -should rather say “daubed” devices, <a -name="page72"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 72</span>upon the -sheets, full of satire which the fools with plenty of money could -not read. One was a barber shaving his customers; another -was a donkey, after he had been well fed, turning his heels -towards his silly friends and kicking them in the face and -sending them sprawling upon the ground with their pockets empty; -and many others with the flags of “Old England” -flying in all directions. I learned some time after that -the owner of this establishment during the two days’ races -cleared nearly twenty pounds out of fools and cocoa-nuts, giving -thousands of young folks of both sexes a taste for gambling, and -then clearing off to London with smiles and chuckles, and his -poaching dogs at his heels, leaving his customers to say the next -morning, “What fools we have been, to be sure!” -If I had been at the door of their bedroom I should have bawled -out, “No greater fools in existence could possibly -be. When you went upon the race-course you had money if you -had not any sense; this morning you have neither money nor sense, -and now you are neither more nor less than a third of a -shrivelled-up sausage without any seasoning in your nature, -unsuitable for pickling and not worth cooking, fit for nothing -but the dunghill, and food for cats and dogs.” I now -took another stroll amongst the gipsies at the other end of the -“course,” and came up against one who owned the -“steam-flying dobby-horses;” but before I began to -chat with him one of the gipsy women whispered in my ear, -“It is his wife that has made him; she is very good-looking -and one of the best women in the world; no one can tell why it -was that she took up with the man as his second wife. He -would not have been worth twopence had it not been for her. -She is a rare good un, an’ no mistake. You must not -tell him that I say so. She sees to all the business and he -dotes over her. He is not a bad sort of a -chap.” I soon began to chat with the -“dobby-horse” <a name="page73"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 73</span>owner, and he was not long before he -began to tell me of his cleverness and what he had passed -through, as follows: “You see, sir, a few years ago I had -to borrow three shillings and sixpence to help me to get away -from this town, now I’ve turned the tide and got at the top -of the hill. These ‘shooting galleries,’ -‘dobby-horses,’ ‘flying boxes,’ vans, and -waggons are my own.” Pointing with his finger to a -new van, he said, “I made that myself last winter, and have -done all the painting upon the ‘horses’ -myself.” The steam organ, the steam whistle, the -shouting, screaming, and hurrahing, and his face having been in -the wars, made it difficult for me to hear him. He now -spoke out louder and referred to family affairs and some of his -early history. “I left Bagworth when I was a lad, -owing to the cruel treatment of a stepmother, and wandered up and -down the country in rags and barefooted, sleeping in barns, and -houses, and piggeries, and other places I could creep into; and -in course of time I fell in with the gipsies and married -one. But she was a wretch; oh! she was a bad un, and I was -glad when she died. I am thankful I have got a better one -now. She is a good un; but I must not say anything about -her, we get on well together, and she keeps me -straight.” “Bang bang” and “crack -crack” went the bullets out of the rifle guns close to our -ears, against the metal plates, through a long sheet iron funnel -of about twelve inches diameter. “Now then,” -cried out a little sharp, dark-eyed, nimble woman of about -thirty-five years—of course upon this point I had no means -of knowing or guessing exactly; I had not examined her -teeth. She might say she was only twenty-eight, a favourite -age with some maids looking out for husbands—“be -quick and rub out the marks upon the plate.” And away -the old man trotted at his wife’s bidding, as all good -husbands who are not capable of being masters should do. A -“slap” and a <a name="page74"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 74</span>“dash” with the old -gipsy’s brush, and all the “pops” were for over -obliterated. What a blessed thing it would be for -themselves and future generations if all the sins committed upon -the racecourse that day could have been wiped out as -easily. Why not?</p> -<p>Upon the “course” there were, at a very rough -calculation, nearly fifty families of gipsies in vans, tents, and -carts, in which vans, tents, &c., there lived over a hundred -and fifty children and one hundred men and women sleeping inside -and huddling together with their eyes open, like rabbits at the -bottom of a flour cask, when no other eye sees them but -God’s. While the jockeys were riding to death upon -classical horses with the devil at their heels, to a place where, -as Dr. Grosart says in the <i>Sunday at Home</i>, “The -surges of wrath crash on the shores infernal,” I mused, -pondered, and then wended my way home for meditation and -reflection, and, as a writer in the <i>Churchman’s Penny -Magazine</i> says—</p> -<blockquote><p>“We take Thy providence and word<br /> -As landmarks on our way.”</p> -</blockquote> -<h2><a name="page75"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -75</span>Rambles amongst the Gipsies upon the Warwick -Racecourse.</h2> -<p><span class="smcap">Some</span> men’s lives, it would -seem, are decreed by Providence to be spent among the -“extremes” of life and the associations of the -world. Some are walking, talking, humming, and singing to -themselves of the joys of heaven, the pleasures of the world, and -the consoling influences of religion under the bright sunlight of -heaven, as they, with light tread, step along to the goal where -they will be surrounded with endless joy, where the tears of -sorrow, bereavement, and anguish are unknown, and where the -little dancing, prattling joys of earth have been transplanted -into the angelic choir of heaven. There are others to be -seen sitting under the shade upon some ditch bank with their -elbows upon their knees, and their faces buried in their hands, -enveloped in meditation and reflection with reference to the -doings and dealings of Providence towards them on their journey -of life, with an outlook at times that does not seem the least -encouraging and hopeful, ending in mysteries and doubts as to the -future, and the part they will be called upon to play in the -ending drama. There are many who seem to <a -name="page76"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 76</span>be groping -their way among the dark and heavy clouds which have been filled -by God, in His wisdom, weighted with trouble and circumstances of -earth and self; and while pacing among the clouds and darkness -which have settled upon them almost too heavy to be borne, they -imagine their lot to be the hardest in the world. Such I -thought, has been my lot, as I tripped along, with bag in hand, -over the green carpet, while the warbling little songsters were -singing overhead, and a bright spring sun shining in my face, -bringing life into, on every hand, the enchanting beauty of the -orchards, hedgerows, and meadows, sending forth delicious scents, -and lovely sights of the daisies, primroses, and violets, and a -thousand other heavenly things, on my way to the station on a -lovely spring morning to ramble among the gipsies and others upon -the Warwick racecourse.</p> -<p>In the train, between Welton and Leamington, I met with some -sporting “company’s servants.” One said, -“Y. and G. were two of the greatest scamps in the -world. When once the public backed a horse, they were sure -to ‘scratch it.’” They discussed minutely -their “bobs,” “quids,” losses, crosses, -and gains. One of the sporting “company’s -servants” was a guard, and he said, “I generally gets -the ‘tip’ from some of the leading betting men I -know, who often travel by my train to the races, and I’m -never far wrong.” Another “company’s -servant,” related his betting experiences. “One -Sunday,” said he, “I was at Bootle church, near -Liverpool, and heard the preacher mention in his sermon -‘Bend Or,’ and warned his congregation to have -nothing to do with races, and I concluded that there was -something in the horse, or he would not have mentioned his name -in the pulpit. So on Monday morning I determined to put -three ‘bob’ on ‘Bend Or,’ and the result -was I had twelve ‘bob’ and a half, that was a good -day’s work for me, which I should <a -name="page77"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 77</span>not have got -if it had not been for our parson.” I said to the -“company’s servant,” “Do you really think -that racing is profitable for those engaged in it, taking all -things into consideration?” “Well,” he -said, “to tell you the truth, sir, I do not think it -is. I have often seen dashing, flashing betting characters -compelled to leave their boxes at the station in pawn for a -railway ticket to enable them to get home.”</p> -<p>After leaving the train and the Avenue Station behind me, I -made my way to my friends, Mr. and Mrs. John Lewis, for -“labour and refreshment,” when, during my midnight -tossings, nocturnal wanderings, and rambles in wonderland, the -following rough and crude germs of thought prevented me getting -the sweet repose which tired nature required:—</p> -<p>The beautiful snowdrop of heaven, and the first in God’s -garden, is a pretty lively child growing up good and pure in the -midst of a wretched family, surrounded by squalor, ignorance, and -sin.</p> -<p>They are enemies, and beware of them, who, in your presence, -laugh when you laugh, sing when you sing, and cry, without tears, -when you cry.</p> -<p>A scientific Christian minister preaching science instead of -the gospel, causing his flock to wander among doubts and hazy -notions, is a scriptural roadman sitting upon a heap of stones -philosophizing with metaphysical skill upon the fineness of the -grain, beauty, and excellent qualities of a piece of granite, -while the roads he is in charge of are growing over with grass, -bewildering to the members of his church as to which is the right -road, and leading them into a bog from which they cannot -extricate themselves, and have to cry out for the helping hand to -save, ere they sink and are lost.</p> -<p>Every glass of beer drunk in a public-house turns a black hair -white.</p> -<p><a name="page78"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 78</span>When a -man or woman draws the last sixpence out of his or her pocket in -a public-house, they pull out a cork that lets tears of sorrow -flow.</p> -<p>A publican’s cellar is the storehouse of sorrows.</p> -<p>A Christian minister who preaches science instead of -Christianity and the Bible, is going through a dark tunnel with a -dim lamp at the wrong end of his boat.</p> -<p>Beer and spirits make more gaps in a man’s character -than righteous women can mend.</p> -<p>The finest pottery has to pass through three crucial stages -during manufacture before it can be said to be perfect. -First is the “biscuit oven,” whereby the vessels are -made hard and durable. Second is the “hardening-on -kiln,” or an oven with an even, moderate heat to harden or -burn on the surface the various designs and colours which have -been placed there by artistic hands. And the third is the -“glost oven,” which brings out the transparent gloss -and finish, and gives beauty to the gold, oxide, cobalt, nickel, -manganese, ochre, stone, flint, bone, iron, and clay, -&c. So in like manner it is with the highest type of a -Christian character. First, there is the family circle with -its moulding and parental influence: this may be called the -“biscuit oven,” fixing on the preparation for the -fights and hardships of life. Second, there is the school -and educational progress, which may be compared to the -“hardening-on kiln.” And third, there is the -work of the Holy Spirit: this may be compared to the “glost -oven,” which gives the gloss, touch, and transparency to -the vessel. Each of these stages will include the -progressive steps of manufacture leading up to them.</p> -<p>Spectacles are of no use to a man in the dark. So in -like manner scientific problems cannot help a man to see his way -if he is in spiritual darkness.</p> -<p>Acrobatic Christians are those whose spiritual backbone <a -name="page79"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 79</span>and moral -uprightness have been damaged by contortions, megrims, twirlings, -and twisting their Christian character to suit circumstances.</p> -<p>So long as a man keeps upright the law of gravitation has but -little power over him; immediately he begins to stoop its -influence is soon manifest. So in like manner it is with an -upright Christian, and so long as he keeps his perpendicular -position by walking erect in God’s love and favour he is -all right, and the influence of hell trebled cannot bend or pull -him down; immediately he stoops to listen to the voice of the -charmer, and gives way to the gravitation of -hell—sin—down he goes, and nothing but a miracle will -bring him upright again.</p> -<p>A hollow, hypocritical, twirl-about Christian, with no -principle to guide him, is as an empty, shallow vessel pushed out -to sea without either compass, rudder, or sails.</p> -<p>A man who, Christ-like, stoops to pick up a fallen brother, or -who guides and places a youth upon a successful path, leading to -immortality, is a man among men whom God delights to honour, as -Jupiter was among the heathen gods, and he will be doubly -crowned. His crown upon earth will be studded with lasting -pleasure, shining brighter than diamonds; but his crown in heaven -will be studded and illumined with the everlasting smiles of -those he has saved, surpassing in grandeur all the precious -stones in creation.</p> -<p>When a professing Christian visits the tap-room and places of -light amusement with the hope of finding safe anchorage from the -storms of life, it may be taken as an indication that he is at -sea without a rudder, and the temporary one manufactured in a -gin-palace out of frothy conversation will not bring him safe to -land.</p> -<p>To hold up good works without faith and prayer as a shelter -from an angry God for wrong-doing, is like holding <a -name="page80"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 80</span>a riddle over -your head as a protection from a thunderstorm.</p> -<p>A man indulging in a lifetime of sin and iniquity, and then -praying to God and giving alms in the last hours of his existence -in the hope of securing eternal life and endless joy, is like a -fowl with a broken neck and wings struggling to pick up golden -grain to give it life and strength to fly to roost.</p> -<p>Love and spite dwelling in the heart can no more make a -perfect Christian than poisoned vinegar and cream can make pure -honey.</p> -<p>Every huntsman who jumps a fence makes it easier for those who -choose to follow; and so it is with wrongdoers who jump the -bounds of sin and folly. They are teaching those who follow -to shun the plain, open path, and to take to the walls, fences, -and ditches, which end in a broken neck, amidst the applause of -fools.</p> -<p>Hotbeds of envy and hatred, heated with burning passion, have -been productive of more evil results, direful consequences, -bloodshed, cruel deaths, and foul murders than all the poison -extracted from fungi, hemlock, foxgloves, and deadly nightshade -have done since the world began, or could do, even if envy and -hatred were to die to-day and poisons worked death to the end of -time.</p> -<p>The morals and good deeds of a wicked, sensual, selfish man -are the artificial flowers of hell.</p> -<p>Some professing Christians have only sufficient Christianity -to make a pocket mirror, which the possessor uses in company as a -schoolboy would to make “Jack-a-dandies.”</p> -<p>Crowns of credit or renown lightly won sit lightly upon the -head, and are easily puffed off by the first breath of public -opinion.</p> -<p>A man who trusts to his own self-righteousness to get him to -heaven is wheeling a heavily and unevenly laden <a -name="page81"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 81</span>wheelbarrow -up a narrow, slippery plank over a deep ravine, with a wheel in -the front of his wheelbarrow that is twisted, loose, and -awry.</p> -<p>The devil plays most with those he means to bite the -hardest.</p> -<p>Singing heavenly songs in earthly sorrows brings joy tinged -with the golden light of heaven on the mourner.</p> -<p>To get the cold, poisonous water of selfishness from our -hearts God has often to furrow and drain our nature and -affections by afflictions and cross purposes.</p> -<p>Too-much conceited young Christians with little piety, like -young “quickset” hedges, become of more use to the -Christian Church and the world after they have been cut down by -persecution and bent by troubles and afflictions.</p> -<p>Sin in the first instance is as playful as a kitten and as -harmless as a lamb; but in the end it will bite more than a tiger -and sting more than a nest of wasps.</p> -<p>A Christian professor outside the range of miracles and under -the influence of the devil is he who is trying to swim to heaven -with a barrel of beer upon his back.</p> -<p>As fogs are bad conductors of light, sight, and sound, so in -like manner is a Christian living in foggy doubts a bad conductor -of the light, sight, and sounds of heaven.</p> -<p>Cold, slippery Christians who have no good object before them, -and without a noble principle to guide them, are like round balls -of ice on a large dish; and to set such Christians to work is a -worse task than serving the balls out with a knitting needle.</p> -<p>Crotchety, doubting, scientific Christians are manufacturers -of more deadly poisons than that produced from pickled old rusty -nails.</p> -<p>The loudest and most quickening sounds to be heard upon earth -are from a beautiful sweet child as it lies in the stillness of -the loving arms of death.</p> - -<div class="gapspace"> </div> -<p>Breakfast being over, with my “Gladstone bag” I <a -name="page82"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 82</span>begun my -tramp-trot to the “course,” and while walking -leisurely under the tall trees in one of the avenues at -Leamington, on my way to the racecourse, a circumstance -occurred—which my friend the gipsies say “forbodes -good luck and a fortune, and that I shall rise in the world and -have many friends.” Gipsies say and do queer -things. To see, say they, the tail of the first spring lamb -instead of its face forebodes “bad luck” to the -beholder through the year. In the tramcar there was a -little dog with a silver collar round its neck, evidently without -an owner. The pretty little white English terrier whined -about in quest of its master or mistress, but neither was to be -found. In the tramcar there was a police inspector on his -way to do double duty at the racecourse. This kind-hearted -man tried hard by coaxing, sop, and caresses to be a friend to -the dog; but no, and for the life of him the dog could not be -brought round to look upon the inspector as a friend. -Immediately the tramcar stopped, the little dog bounded off in -search of its owner, but none was to be found, and the last I saw -of the inspector and the lost dog was up one of the streets at -Warwick, with the dog ahead and its tail between its legs, and -the inspector scampering after it as fast as he could run, -calling out, “Stop it,” “Stop it,” -“It’s lost;” and away they both went out of -sight, and neither the one nor the other have I seen since.</p> -<p>I once worked for a master in the slave yards of Brickdom in -Staffordshire, who owned a bulldog. This dog took it into -his head one day to leave its cruel master, and seek fresh -lodgings of a better kind. Spying its opportunity, off it -started out of the brickyard as if it was shot out of a gun; and -the master for whom I slaved could not whistle, and knowing that -I could whistle as well as I could cry and sing, bawled out to -me, “Whistle <a name="page83"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -83</span>him, whistle him, or I’ll black your eye! -I’ve lost a dog worth five shillings; whistle -him!” Of course, under the circumstances, trembling -with fear and fright, I could not “whistle” very -loud. The consequence was, the dog was lost, and I got a -“good kick and a punch.” If the inspector could -have whistled for the lost dog in the tones of its mistress, it -would have saved his legs and brought the dog back to its -comfortable home.</p> -<p>I was no sooner upon the racecourse, paddling through the -quagmire, than I was brought face to face with some of the -gipsies—the Hollands and the Claytons. I had not long -been talking to them before one of the old Hollands came up to me -and said, “I know who you are, Mr. Smith of Coalville; -lend’s your hand, and let’s have a good shake. -I would not mind giving five shillings for your -likeness.” I told him he need not be at the expense -of giving five shillings for a flattering photograph; he could -have a good stare at the original, with all its faults, -blemishes, and scars, for nothing. In my hands were a lot -of picture cards for the gipsy children, given to me by the -Religious Tract Society, upon which were a lot of texts of -Scripture, in pretty patterns. Some of them read as -follows: “My son, forget not my law;” “Thou art -my trust from my youth;” “Thou God seest me;” -“Thy word is a lamp unto my feet;” “My son, -give me thine heart;” “Wisdom is more precious than -rubies;” “Enter not into the path of the -wicked;” “Even a child is known by his doings;” -“Feed my lambs;” “Hear instruction, and be -wise;” “Show piety at home;” “The Lord -bless and keep thee;” “The Lord preserveth all them -that love Him;” “I will guide thee with mine -eye;” “The Lord shall preserve thee from all -evil;” and many more. Immediately I had begun to -distribute them among the children clustered round me, Alfred -Clayton came up to me, as close as he could get, and <a -name="page84"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 84</span>he said, as I -read out some of the texts to the children “I do like them; -I could die by them; I’d sooner have some of them than a -meal’s meat at any time. Do give me some, Mr. Smith, -and I’ll get somebody to read them to me, and will take -great care of them. I’ll have them framed and hung -up.” The Hollands now asked me to go into their van, -which invitation I gladly accepted. I was no sooner seated -than Mrs. Holland, a big strong woman with pipe in her mouth, -began to tell me how many children they had had, and that she had -“been a nurse for the Lord,” for she had “had -twelve children, nine of whom had died before they were three -years old, and three are living, two of whom you -see.” At this point she flew off at a tangent in -language not suited for this book. Any one hearing her -would think that she was a somewhat queer and strange kind of -“nurse for the Lord.” Mr. Holland the elder -told me of one poor gipsy woman, who, through her unfaithfulness -and bad conduct, had come to an untimely end, so much so that it -was with much difficulty and risk her rotten remains were placed -in a coffin. Sad to say, her sins were not buried with -her. Her family carry the marks upon them. After -chatting about all sorts of things and old times, with the -Leicestershire gipsies from Barlestone and Barwell, I turned in -with some gipsy Smiths from Gloucestershire, whose van and tents -were on the other side of the “grand stand.” I -found that in three of the vans there were twenty-one children of -various sizes and ages, and nine men and women sleeping and -huddling together in wretchedness. One of the gipsy women -told me that she had had “nineteen children all born -alive.” As they sat round the fire upon the grass, I -began to give them some cards, and while I was doing so, one of -the men, Reservoir Smith, broke out in language not very -elevating, and said among other things, “What use are -picture <a name="page85"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -85</span>cards to either the children or us; there is not one in -the whole bunch that can tell a letter; and as for saying -prayers, they do not know what it is and where to begin. We -cannot pray ourselves, much less teach our children. Who -are we to pray to? Parsons pray, and not we poor -folks.” A gipsy woman must needs have her say in the -matter, and said as follows, “Do not mind what he says -master, if you will give me some of the cards we will have them -framed; they will do to look at if we cannot read -them.” At this they clustered round me—men, -women and children; and I distributed cards and pence to the -little ones as far as my stock would allow, with which all were -delighted.</p> -<p>In the midst of this large group of idle men and women, -ragged, dirty, unkempt, and ignorant children with matted hair, -there were two of the Smith damsels—say, of about eighteen -or twenty years—dressed in all the gay and lively colours -imaginable, whose business was not to attend to the cocoa-nut -“set outs,” but to wheedle their way with gipsy -fascination amongst the crowd of race-goers, to gain -“coppers” in all sorts of questionable ways of those -“greenhorns” who choose to listen to their -“witching” tales of gipsydom. Their -“lurchers” and “snap” dogs came and smelt -at my pantaloons, and skulked away with their tails between their -legs.</p> -<p>Upon the course there were over thirty adult gipsies, and -nearly forty children living in tents and vans, and connected in -one way or other with the gipsy Smiths, Greens, Hollands, -Stanleys, and Claytons, not one of whom—excepting one -Stanley—could read and write a simple sentence out of any -book, and attended neither a place of worship nor any Sunday or -day school. When I explained to them the plan I proposed -for registering their vans, and bringing the children within -reach of the schoolmaster, they one and all agreed to it without -any <a name="page86"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -86</span>hesitation, and said as follows, that “it would be -the best thing in the world, and unitedly expressed more than -once, ‘Thank you, sir,’ ‘Thank you, -sir.’”</p> -<p>Rain was now coming down, and the races were about to -commence; therefore my gipsy congregation had begun to find its -way to the various cocoa-nut establishments to begin business in -earnest. With this exodus going on around me, and in the -midst of oaths, swearing, betting, banging, cheating, lying, -shouting, and thrashing, I turned quickly into Alfred -Clayton’s van to have a friendly chat with him with -“closed doors.” The conversation I had with him -earlier in the afternoon led me to think that some kind of -influence had been at work with him that one does not see in a -thousand times among gipsies. Evidently a softening process -had taken hold of him which I wanted to hear more about. -With his wife and another gipsy friend in charge of his cocoa-nut -business, we closed the door of the van, and he began his tale in -answer to my questions. I asked him whether they had always -been gipsies. To which he answered as follows: “My -grandfather was a ‘stockiner’ at Barlestone, and -lived in a cottage there; but in course of time he began to do a -little hawking, first out of a basket round the villages, and -then in a cart round the country. He then took to a van; -and the same thing may be said of the Claytons. Originally -they were ‘stockiners’ at Barwell, a village close to -Barlestone, and began to travel as my grandfather and father had -done. Thus you will see that the two families of gipsies, -Claytons and Hollands, are mixed up pretty much. My father -is, as you know, a Holland, and my mother a Clayton, whose name I -take. At the present time, out of the original family of -Hollands at Barlestone, and the original family of Claytons at -Barwell, there are seven families of Hollands travelling the -country at the present time, and fifteen families of Claytons -travelling in <a name="page87"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -87</span>various parts of Staffordshire and other -places.” From the original two families it will be -seen that there are over a hundred and fifty men, women, and -children who have taken to gipsying within the last fifty years, -not half a dozen of whom can read and write, with all the -attendant consequences of this kind of a vagabond rambling life; -which the more we look into, it is plain that Christianity and -civilization, as we have put them forth to reclaim those of our -own brothers and sisters near home, have proved a failure, not on -account of the blessed influences of themselves being not -powerful enough, but in the lack of the application of them to -the gipsies by those who profess to have received those -world-moving principles in their hearts. In the midst of -this dark mass of human beings moving to and fro upon our lovely -England, one little cheering ray is to be seen. Alfred -Clayton tells us this. When he was staying at Leicester -with his van some three years since, he stole like a thief in the -night into the “Salvation Warehouse” at the bottom of -Belgrave Gate, and while he was there an influence penetrated -through the hardened coats of ignorance and crime, and the -ramification of sin in all its worst shape to the depth of his -heart, and awakened a chord of sympathy in his nature which has -not died out, or wholly left him to this day. “Jesus -the name high over all” caused him to open his ears in a -manner they had never been opened before, and wonder what it all -meant. This visit to the “Salvation warehouse” -was not lost upon him, or without its effects upon his -conduct. One cold wintry day, some two years ago, he was -staying with his wife and family in this van on the roadside -between Atherstone and Hinckley, when a youth, apparently about -eighteen years old, came limping along the road, dressed in what -had once been a fashionable suit of clothes, but now was little -better than rags. His face was thin and pale, and his -fingers long, and his neck bare. Upon his feet were two odd -<a name="page88"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 88</span>old -worn-out shoes, and without stockings upon his legs; and as the -forlorn youth neared the van and its occupants at dusk, he said, -“Will you please give me a bit of bread, for I feel very -hungry.” Clayton said, without much inquiry and -hesitation, “Come into the van and warm yourself,” -and while the youth was doing so, they got ready a crust of bread -and cheese and some tea, which were devoured ravenously. -Clayton learned that the stranger was related to one of the -leading manufacturers named at Leicester, and well known as being -rich; but unfortunately for the poor youth, his father died, and -his stepmother had sold everything and cleared away to America, -leaving this well-educated lad without any money, or means of -earning money, to grapple with the world and its difficulties for -a livelihood as best he could. Clayton, in the kindness of -his heart, took the youth into the van, and he travelled up and -down the country with them as one of their own during the space -of two years, when owing to “his being a gentleman,” -and a “capital scollard,” he was helpful to the gipsy -family in more ways than one. After the two years’ -gipsying spent by the youth with his kind friends the Claytons in -rambling about the country, some kind friends at Atherstone took -pity on him, and he is there to-day, gradually working his -position back into civilized society, and a respectable member of -the community, notwithstanding the treatment he has received at -the hands of his cruel stepmother. After the meeting at the -“Salvation Warehouse” Clayton had been seen and heard -more than once, checking swearing and other sins so common to -gipsies; but had never finally decided to leave gipsying and -begin a better life until last Christmas. The steps which -led up to his “great resolve,” he related to me as -follows: “Mr. Smith, you must know that I have been about -as bad a man as could be found anywhere. I felt at times, -through drink and other things, that I would <a -name="page89"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 89</span>as soon -murder somebody as I would eat my supper; in fact, I didn’t -care what I did; and things went on in this way till my little -girl, about three years old, and who I loved to the bottom of my -heart, was taken ill and died. She had such bright eyes, a -lovely face, and curls upon her head. She was my darling -pet, and always met me with a smile; but she died and lies buried -in Polesworth churchyard.” At this Clayton burst into -crying and sobbing like a child. “I vowed,” -said Clayton, “on the day, at the side of the grave, she, -my poor darling, was buried, that I would not touch drink for a -month, and do you know, Mr. Smith of Coalville, when the month -was gone, I did not feel to crave for drink any more, and I have -not had any up till now.” He now dried his eyes, and -his face brightened up with a smile, and I said to him in the -van, “Let us kneel down and thank God for helping you to -make this resolution, and for grace to help you to keep -it.” In the midst of the hum, shouting, and swearing -of the races, we shut the door of the van; and after we had got -off our knees, he knelt down again and again, and began to pray, -with tears in his eyes, as follows:—</p> -<p>“O Lord Jesus, Thou knowest that I have been a bad -sinner. O God, thou knowest I have been very wicked in many -ways, and done many things I should not have done; but Thou hast -told me to come to Thee and Thou wilt forgive me. Do my God -forgive me for all the wrong I have done, and help me to be a -better man, and never touch drink again any more, for Thou -knowest it has been my ruin. Help me to live a good life, -so that I may meet my little darling in heaven, who lies in -Polesworth churchyard. Do, O Lord, bless my wife and my -other little children, and make them all good. Oh do, my -heavenly Father help my mother to give over swearing and bad -things. Thou canst do it. Do Thou bless my father, -and my brothers, and all my relations, and Mr. Smith <a -name="page90"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 90</span>in his work, -and for being so good to us, so that we may all meet in heaven, -for Jesus Christ’s sake. Amen.</p> -<p>“Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name, -Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in -heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us -our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against -us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from -evil. For Thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, -for ever and ever. Amen.”</p> -<p>After Clayton had dried his eyes we got up, to behold, over -the top of the bottom half of his van door, the riders, dressed -in red, scarlet, yellow, green, blue, crimson, and orange, with a -deep <i>black shade</i> to be seen <i>underneath</i>, galloping -to hell with hordes of gamblers at their heels as fast as their -poor, cruelly treated steeds could carry them, all leaving -footprints behind them for young beginners to follow. I -said to Clayton, “Are you not tired of this kind of -life?” And he said he was. “It is no good -for anybody,” said Clayton, “and I am going to leave -it. This is my last day with the -‘cocoa-nuts.’ I shall start in the -morning—Saturday—for Coventry and Atherstone, where I -mean to settle down and bring my children up like other -folks. I have taken a house and am going to furnish it, and -a gentleman is going to give me a chance of learning a trade, for -which I thank God.”</p> -<p>As the shouts of the hell-bound multitude were dying away, and -the gains and losses reckoned up, Clayton’s three little -gipsy children, with their lovely features, curls, and bright -blue eyes, came toddling up the steps to the van door, calling -out, “Dad, let us in; dad, let us in.” The door -was opened, and the little dears comfortably seated by our -side. I gave them a few pictures, some coppers, stroked -their hair, and “chucked their chin,” and bade them -good-bye in the midst of a shower of rain, <a -name="page91"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 91</span>to meet again -some day with the bright sun shining overhead and a clear sky -without a cloud to be seen anywhere. For the present I must -say with John Harris in his <i>Wayside Pictures</i>—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Where Thou leadest it is best;<br /> -Cheer me with the thought of rest,<br /> -Till I gain the upper shore,<br /> -And my <i>tent</i> is struck no more.”</p> -</blockquote> -<h2><a name="page92"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -92</span>Rambles among the Gipsies at Boughton Green Fair.</h2> -<p>I <span class="GutSmall">HAD</span> heard much and often about -the Boughton Green Fair, and the vast number of gipsies, -semi-gipsies, and other tramps, scamps, vagabonds, hawkers, -farmers, tradesmen, the fast and loose, riff-raff and -respectable, gathered together from all quarters once a year upon -this ancient Green for a “fairing.” Tradesmen -and farmers exhibited their wares, live stock, and implements of -husbandry; and others set forth their articles of torture, things -of fashion, painted faces, “tomfoolery,” and -“bosh,” to those who like to tramp thither in -sunshine and storm with plenty of money in their pockets for -revel and debauch.</p> -<p>Bidding the sparrows, linnets, swallows, and wagtails, -fluttering and darting round our dwelling, good-bye as they were -hopping, chirping, twittering, and gathering a variety of -materials upon which to build their nests; and with my little -folks at the door, I wended my way to the station.</p> -<blockquote><p>“Then he kissed his olive branches,<br /> - Bade his wife good-bye,<br /> -And said, . . .<br /> - ‘Heaven preserve you -all!’”</p> -<p style="text-align: right"><i>Wayside Pictures</i> (<span -class="smcap">Harris</span>).</p> -</blockquote> -<p><a name="page93"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 93</span>The sun -was shining warmly, the roads dusty, and a few red faces covered -with perspiration were to be seen panting along. Many of -the men were dressed in black cloth, a little faded, of the -“cut” and fashion out of date many years ago. -Some had their coats hung upon their arm, with white shirt -sleeves and heavy boots everywhere visible. Most fairly -well-to-do farm labourers have for Sundays and mourning days a -black suit, which lasts them for many years. In some -instances the father’s black clothes become family -“heirlooms”—at any rate, for a time—and -then, when the father dies, they are turned into garments for the -little children. Of course the father’s “black -silk furred hat” cannot be made less, and to pad it to make -it fit little Johnny’s head is an awkward process. I -have seen many <i>little boys</i> with big hats upon their heads -in my time. I suppose they have imagined that people would -infer that they had big heads under the hats with plenty of brain -power. This is a mistake. Big hats, with little brain -and less common sense, and No. 10 rather high, often go -together. Upon the road would be “Our Sal” with -her “chap,” and his brother Jim, yawning, shouting, -and gaping along, and, as my friends the boatmen would say, -“a little beerish.” Some of the country -labouring girls would have their shawls upon their arms, and they -would be stalking along in their strong boots at the rate of four -miles an hour, frolicking and screaming as Bill Sands, Jack -Jiggers, Joe Straw, Matt Twist, and Ben Feeder jostled against -them. They seemed to delight in showing the tops of their -boots, with crumpled and overhanging stockings. There were -other occupants of the road trudging limpingly after the cows, -sheep, horses, donkeys, and mules, called “tramps” -and “drovers,” who seemed to be, and really are, the -“cast-offs” of society. These poor mortals -were, as a rule, either as thin as herrings or as bloated as <a -name="page94"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 94</span>pigs, with -faces red with beer-barrel paint; and they wore gentlemen’s -“cast-off” clothing in the last stages of -consumption, with rags flying in the wind. Their once -high-heeled boots were nearly upside down, while dirty toes, -patches, and rag-stuffing were everywhere visible.</p> -<p>In the train there was the usual jostle, bustle, and crush, -and gossip. At Northampton station there was no little -commotion, owing to the station-master having closed the -station-yard against all cabs except those who ply regularly -between the station and the town.</p> -<p>One cabman came to me and said that he would take me to the -Green for a less fare than he charged others if I would get into -his cab the first. I asked him his reason. -“Because,” he said, “if you get in first others -will follow, and I shall soon have a load.” I could -not see the force of his argument, and found my way to another -cab. I had no sooner seated myself than the cabman took -off, or hid, his number. I asked him why he did that. -His answer was, “So that if I drive fast the Bobbies -shan’t catch the sight of my number. If they get my -number and I am caught driving fast there will be either thirty -‘bob’ for me to pay, or I shall have to go to -‘quad’ for a fortnight.”</p> -<p>Some of the poor horses attached to the vehicles—cabs, -waggonettes, carriers carts, carriages—were heavily laden -with human beings, till they could scarcely crawl. Uphill, -down dale, slashing, dashing, banging, whipping, kicking, and -shouting seemed to be the order of the day; and on this vast mass -of human and animal life poured—and myself among the -crowd—till I found we were fairly among the gipsies upon -the Green.</p> -<p>Having partaken of a starvation lunch in one of the booths, -consisting of “reecy” fat ham, with a greasy knife -and fork, dried bread and lettuce, served upon plates not over -clean, and studded and painted with patches of mustard <a -name="page95"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 95</span>left by a -former customer, and with warm ginger-beer as tame as skim milk -to take the place of champagne, I began to take stock of the -Green, which natural formation, together with those made -apparently hundreds of years ago, seemed to excite my first -attention.</p> -<p>The large circular holes, of about thirty feet diameter and -one foot below the level of the surrounding ground, reminded me -very much of ancient gipsy encampments. Boughton Green has -been a favourite annual camping ground for generations, and may -to-day be considered as the fluctuating capital of gipsydom in -the Midlands, where the gipsies from all the Midland and many -other counties do annually congregate to fight, quarrel, brawl, -pray, sing, rob, steal, cheat, and, in past times, murder.</p> -<p>According to Wetton’s “Guide to -Northamptonshire,” published some fifty-six years ago, it -seems probable that the fair was formerly set out in canvas -streets, after the manner of a maze, shepherd’s-race, or -labyrinth; and as Boughton Green was close to a Roman station, -this seems probable. This was the custom of the Roman fairs -held close to their stations. This much seems to be -inferred from Baker’s “History of -Northamptonshire,” where he says, “The stretching -canvas forms the gaudy streets.”</p> -<p>In the <i>Northampton Mercury</i>, June 5, 1721, the following -advertisement appears: “The Right Hon. the Earl of -Strafford has been pleased to give a bat, value one guinea, to be -played for on Monday at cudgels, and another of the same price; -and also 6 pairs of buckskin gloves at 5s. a pair, to be wrestled -for on Tuesday; and a silver cup of the value of 5 guineas price -to be run for on Wednesday by maiden galloways not exceeding 14 -hands high, during the time of Boughton Fair. The ladies of -the better rank to meet to raffle, see the shows, and then to -adjourn to a ball at the Red Lion Inn, Northampton, in the -evening.”</p> -<p><a name="page96"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 96</span>In -Baker’s “History of Northamptonshire” the -following poem appears relative to the fair—</p> -<blockquote><p>“From every part stretched o’er the -sultry way,<br /> -The labouring team the various stores convey.<br /> -Vessels of wood and brass, all bright and new,<br /> -In merry mixture rise upon the view.<br /> -See! pots capacious lesser pots entomb,<br /> -And hogsheads barrels gorge for want of room;<br /> -From their broad base part in each other hid<br /> -The lessening tubs shoot up like a pyramid.<br /> -Pitchforks and axes and the deepening spade<br /> -Beneath the pressing load are harmless laid;<br /> -Whilst out behind, where pliant poles prevail,<br /> -The merry waggon seems to wag her tail.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>Looked at from rising ground, far in the distance and with a -keen sense for the picturesque and romantic, the moral and -physical aspects of nature, and love of liberty, which gipsy life -presents to those few unacquainted with its dark, degrading -side—thank God, only a few—are food for admiration -and wonder; to others the objects of pity and suggestive -reflection. There can be no doubt that Cowper, the immortal -poet, who lived at Olney, a few miles from Boughton Green and -Higham Ferrers, as he was wont to take his daily walks, would -often cross the path of the Northamptonshire gipsies. -Sometimes there would accompany him his two lady friends who were -jealous of each other’s influence—Lady Austin and -Mrs. Unwin. Occasionally Lady Hesketh and some of the -Throckmortons would be the cheerful companions in his despondency -and gloom, and at other times he would sally forth single-handed -in quest of food for his hares and leverets, in silent meditation -upon the grand and beautiful surroundings. It is more than -probable that while he saw from the beautiful elevation, a few -miles outside Olney and Weston, the grey smoke rising from the -gipsy encampment in the distance silently and quietly whirling, -twirling, and ascending among the trees, to be lost among <a -name="page97"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 97</span>the daisies -and hedgerows, the muses danced before him and brought forth the -truthful, characteristic poem relating to gipsies—</p> -<blockquote><p>“I see a column of slow rising smoke<br /> -O’ertop the lofty wood that skirts the wild.<br /> -A vagabond and useless tribe there eat<br /> -Their miserable meal. A kettle<br /> -Slung between two poles, upon a stick transverse<br /> -Receives the morsel; flesh <i>obscene</i> hog<br /> -Or vermin; or at best of cock purloined<br /> -From his accustomed perch. Hard-faring race<br /> -They pick their fuel out of every hedge<br /> -Which, kindled with dry leaves and wood, just saves<br /> -The spark of life. The sportive wind blows wide<br /> -Their fluttering rags, and shows a tawny skin<br /> -The vellum of the pedigree they claim.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>The publication of this poem, and the fact that large numbers -of gipsy tramps were flitting about the country, with their -wretched equipages, may have been the means of stirring the kind -hearts of Smith, Crabb, Hoyland, William Allen, of Higham -Ferrers, solicitor, and steward to Earl Fitzwilliam, and many -others, some eighty or one hundred years ago, to try to reclaim -the gipsies from their debasing habits and customs.</p> -<p>It has generally been supposed that the term -“green,” given to the land upon which the annual fair -is held, comes to us at this date on account of its -greensward. This is an error. According to -Baker’s and other histories of Northamptonshire, Boughton -Green derives its name and title as follows. “In the -time of Edward I., William de Nutricilla, abbot of St. -Wandegisile, conveyed the lands to John de Boketon or Boughton, -from whom they descended to Sir Thomas de Boketon his grandson, -and who was succeeded by Sir Henry Green his son and heir, who -was Lord Chief Justice of England.” Thus we see the -probability of it being called at this ancient date, on <a -name="page98"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 98</span>account of -the close relationship existing between the Boketon or Boughton -and Green, Boughton and Green’s wake or fair. In -course of time the “and” has been dropped, and we -have now “Boughton Green fair.”</p> -<p>“Sir Henry Green obtained a grant or charter, dated 28th -February, 1351 (25 of Edward III.), for an annual fair to be held -on the manor for the space of three days, beginning with the -vigil of the nativity of St. John the Baptist (June 23rd), and -ending the day after it.” This being so, the adding -of “green” to the fair can be easily accounted -for. The site upon which the fair is held is seventeen -acres.</p> -<p>Outside, and at the east end of the fair grounds, stands the -remains of what was once, no doubt, a fine old Gothic church, -dedicated then, as the new church in the village is now, to St. -John the Baptist. The tower and spire of the old church -fell about a century ago upon a gipsy Smith and his wife, whose -sleeping quarters—instead of the gipsy tent—had been -for some time beneath its crumbling ruins. The old -villagers will tell you, with pride and pleasure upon their -faces, that Boughton old church was, before Cromwell destroyed -it, one of the seven oldest churches in England. Of course, -this is a subject upon which I do not feel to be “master of -the situation.” Such was the odium attached to -gipsies a century ago, that it was not thought worthwhile to dig -them out from beneath the mass of ruins that had fallen upon -them; and from the time when the tower and spire fell, to the -time when the crumbling refuse was cleared away a few years -since, the bones of poor gipsy Smith and his wife had crumbled -into dust and been scattered to the winds. It touches a -tender and sympathetic chord, and draws forth a scalding tear -down one’s face when one ponders over the many evenings the -old gipsy couple had enjoyed their frugal meal—maybe of -hedgehogs and snails, or the piece of <a name="page99"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 99</span>a decaying pig—beneath the -belfry, when the bells were pealing forth, soft and low, as the -shades of evening were gathering round them, and they were -preparing to rest their aimless and useless bones upon the straw -in their dark, at times musical, and at other times dismal, abode -among the dead. The churchyard and burial ground round the -old church is well fenced in, and kept in beautiful order. -Several gipsies are buried in the churchyard; but there is no -stone to mark the exact spot. They are pretty close to each -other, so I am told, at the east end of the church.</p> -<p>Close to the churchyard there is a spring of excellent water, -called St. John’s Spring. So highly did our -forefathers value it, that it was preserved specially as a -rippling little fountain for supplying water for the holy rite of -baptism. When I saw it, gipsies, tramps, show people, -vagabonds, and all kinds of dirty and clean travellers, with -their wretched companions, steeds, and poor bony beasts of -burden, were quenching their thirst at this living stream, -forcing its way out of the hillside. It seemed, as I stood -by, looking at the pails put under its mouth for a filling, to -force its way faster, and with greater gusto, delight, and -pleasure into the dirty pails, owned by dirty hands and dirtier -faces, whose filthy bodies were covered with stinking rags, than -into clean pails carried by white hands and lovely smiling faces -peering over them. One little dirty urchin put his mouth -under it for “a drink.” No sooner was this -done, than the holy spring covered his unholy dirty face with -more clear water than he wanted, some of which found its way down -his bosom and into his breeches; at this he “sobbed,” -and sobbed right out that I could not help laughing. He -turned up his piebald watery face as if in anger at my laughing -at him. I said to him, “What is the matter with -you?” -“No—no—no—no—nought is the matter -<a name="page100"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 100</span>wi -me. It’s co—co—co—cold, and you -woodner laugh if you were like me. It’s wet my -belly.”</p> -<p>The little fellow for once received a washing, contrary, no -doubt, to his wish. After he had dried his face with the -ragged remains of a dirty sleeve, he found his way back to the -green—I expect his mother would scarcely know him—and -I went for a stroll down “Spectacle Lane,” where -gipsies formerly tented and camped in large numbers.</p> -<p>Down this pretty country lane there was a pleasant recess, a -little higher than the road, under the trees, evidently formed by -the gipsies on purpose to have their “tents high and -dry.” Several tents could be nicely sheltered and -partly secluded under the trees in each recess. Water and -game would be plentiful in these lanes a century ago; in fact, I -should imagine such was the case now.</p> -<p>At the bottom of “Spectacle Lane” stood a large, -fine, old Gothic archway, called by the inhabitants in the -neighbourhood “Spectacle Tower.” The object and -purpose for which it was built has never been clearly made -out. Judging from all the surrounding circumstances, it -appeared to me that it had at one time been intended as a gateway -to a mansion, abbey, or nunnery which has not been built; or, -what is still more probable, it may have been erected as a -flag-tower for Fairfax’s army on its way from Oxford -through Northampton to the battle of Naseby, and from thence to -Leicester. Prince Rupert had gone as far as Daventry to -meet General Fairfax and his army, expecting, of course, that -they would come by Daventry; instead of which Fairfax left -Daventry to the left, and pushed on his way through Northampton -and to Boughton Green, hoping to arrive in Leicester before -Prince Rupert and the King. Fairfax may have expected that -the memorable battle would have been fought in the neighbourhood -<a name="page101"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 101</span>of -Boughton; if so, he, at any rate, reckoned without his host, as -both armies came together at Naseby, and with what result any -schoolboy knows.</p> -<p>Report says that Boughton Green church was razed to the ground -by Cromwell’s army.</p> -<p>The fact of gipsies flocking to this, which was once a fine -old Roman Catholic church, and nestling in tents under its -shadows, together with the fact that old, monastic-looking -farm-houses are to be seen in the neighbourhood, confirms the -idea I set forth in my “Gipsy Life,” p. 146, viz., -that on the gipsies landing in Scotland, about the year 1514, -from the continent, some of them hypocritically professed the -Roman Catholic faith in order to inveigle themselves into the -good graces of the nobility, so that their pockets and pouches -might be filled with as little trouble as possible; in fact, -righteous gipsy Smith having come from India, he knew well, and -does so still, how to turn religious sentiment to advantage, and -hence he landed in Scotland from France as above instead of Dover -and London, and wended his way through the Midland counties and -southward; and hence we find Northamptonshire, in times later on, -a central camping ground for these lawless tribes of aimless -vagabonds.</p> -<p>About a century ago a number of gipsies were brought before -the magistrates at Northampton; upon what charge has not been -stated. This so enraged the gipsies upon Boughton Green and -other parts of Northamptonshire, that they threatened to set fire -to the town of Northampton. The end of it was that several -of the gipsies, for their riotous conduct, forfeited their lives -upon the gallows. See “Gipsy Life,” p. 154.</p> -<p>To come back to Boughton Green fair. After having -wandered about “Spectacle Lane” I called upon a -gentleman, Mr. Jeys, who has resided for many years close to the -green, and he told me that he has seen as many as <a -name="page102"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 102</span>forty to -fifty tents and vans of gipsies camping in the lanes near to his -house. It was down this lane that small-pox raged among the -gipsies. Righteous Smith, with his two wives, Constant and -Comfort, and a number of their twenty children, died of -small-pox. Births, deaths, and murders have taken place -upon the green. How many nobody knows, nor can any idea be -formed of the number. Mr. Jeys told me of one case, being a -gipsy row, ending in murder. Who had done it no one could -tell, and where the gipsy was buried was a mystery. They -hunted and searched, but, like the body of the Earl of Crauford -and Balcarres, it could not be found, until Mr. Jeys’ -gardener came across it in the garden. When the body of the -gipsy was found it was laid straight out between two flag stones -reared edgewise, and a large flagstone as a covering. The -arms were folded, and upon the breast of the gipsy there was a -pair of scissors, which had been carefully placed there by those -who had buried the gipsy in the dark; for what purpose I cannot -make out. Gipsies have queer notions about the death and -burial of those belonging to them. The old-fashioned -gipsies of bygone days, more than they do now, paid special -regard to the dead, and on this account they carried the dead -body of the gipsy nearly half a mile to bury it in a -gentleman’s garden. The murdered gipsy in his -lifetime was, no doubt, a scissor-grinder, and the placing of the -scissors upon his breast was to remind them when he got to the -other country of what trade the gipsy was—<i>i.e.</i>, if -skulking about the country with an old barrow grinding a few -knives and scissors can be called a trade.</p> -<p>A few years since a gentleman farmer belonging to the -neighbourhood was murdered upon the green, by whom it has never -been found out. All sorts of conjectures, suspicions, and -surmises have taken place upon the matter. Some say the -gipsies did it; others say that some of the <a -name="page103"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 103</span>unfortunate -class had a hand in the sad affair. At any rate he was -found early next morning with his mouth crammed full of dust; his -pockets were empty, and his soul had gone into the unknown -world. His name is engraved upon the trunk of a tree close -to the spot, which, owing to the growth of the tree and the hand -of time, is fast disappearing. The greensward of Boughton -Green is not a bed of roses; but, on the contrary, I am afraid, -those who have met their last enemy upon this battleground of -scamps have found it full of thorns—for such it has been to -those who have been murdered or met with death in doubtful -company.</p> -<p>At the fair held in 1826, George Catherall, of Bolton, who was -known as Captain Slash, formed a large gang of about a hundred -roughs—of whom it was composed, young or old, it has not -been stated, or whether any, and how many of them, were -gipsies—to rob and murder all upon the green on the night -of June 28th who would not “turn it up.” They -formed themselves, after being well primed with beer, into lines -like soldiers, and on they went to do their murderous, Satanic -work, calling cut, “Blood or money!” While they -were carrying out their murderous designs, Captain Slash would -frequently cry out, “Now, my lads, form yourselves into -line soldier-like. Blood or money is what we want and what -we shall have.” Many of those who had retired for the -night under canvas, or under their stalls, were beaten, kicked, -and not a few were rendered insensible. There were no -policemen in those days, and it was fortunate that a body of -shoemakers from Moulton were close at hand, or there would have -been a larger number of the hawkers and stall-keepers murdered, -there is no doubt. The Moulton shoemakers gave Slash and -his gang what they did not expect. Daybreak showed what a -murderous night had been spent upon the green. Blood, -bludgeons, sticks, broken glass, <a name="page104"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 104</span>tables, stools, were to be seen -lying in all directions. The money taken at the fair was -hid in all sorts of ways. The wife of a publican ran with -her money all the way to Northampton in her night-dress. A -hawker of scythe-stones and whetstones told me that he helped his -father to put the money they had taken during the fair under -their cart-wheels. Others dug holes into the turf with -their knives; others hid their money in the hedge-bottom. -Scores were scampering about in their night-dresses in all -directions, with their hair on end, and almost frightened out of -their senses, like stark mad folks. The children nestling -for the night under the carts, tents, and in the booths, -screeched and screamed about in the dark upon the grass half -naked, like a lot of young rabbits when the weasels have been at -their heels, horrible enough to frighten devils wild. The -few old folks visiting the fair every year who can remember the -sad scene talk of it at the present time with almost breathless -silence. Some of them said to me, “If we were to live -a thousand years we should never forget it.” Captain -Slash was taken the next day to Northampton, and in the end he -was hung upon the new drop. Accounts differ as to how he -met his end. Some say that he died in sorrow and -penitence. One gentleman named F— told me that he was -not far from him when he was hanged, and walked close beside him -on his way to the gallows. While jogging along on the top -of a cart Slash seemed quite jovial, and as merry as if going to -a wedding. He remarked that his mother had said to him more -than once that “he would die with his boots on,” but -he would make her a liar for once; and just before the fatal bolt -was drawn he kicked his boots off among the crowd, and one of -them hit a woman who stood next to my friend in the face and -disfigured it. After this startling scene his nerves gave -way, and he dropped tremblingly into eternity. To-day the -skeleton <a name="page105"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -105</span>of Captain Slash is to be seen in an asylum at -Northampton as a warning to all wrongdoers. One or two of -his gang were transported, some cleared out of the country, and -the others got off “scot-free.”</p> -<p>The associations of bygone days of Boughton Green being -disposed of, I now began to ramble among the gipsies and others -upon the green. I had not gone far before I saw at the back -of one of the vans a dirty, greasy-looking tramp of a fellow, -with an apron on that might have been washed in boiling tallow -and dried in smoke. In a large kettle before him there was -a quantity of thick yellow stuff—what it was composed of, -or how and by what means it was coloured, I could not -tell—and by his side, in an old basket, there were pieces -of almost rotten fish casting forth a sickly odour; and over a -fire upon the ground there was an old frying-pan partly full of -hot grease. I was puzzled to know what this was for, and -what it all meant. I had not been puzzling long before I -saw the greasy tramp taking pieces of the fish out of his basket -and dip them into the thick yellow liquid; he then threw them -into the pan upon the fire, whereupon a crackling noise -commenced. After turning and twisting the pieces of fish -about in the pan for some time, sometimes with his fingers and at -other times with a stick, they were “browned” in -order to be palatable to “greenhorns;” and as they -were “cooked” he took them out of the pan and put -them into a basket, and sallied forth among the throng and crush -of “Johnnies,” calling out “Fine fish, fried -and all hot! Fried fish, all hot.” A crowd soon -gathered round him, and with a plentiful supply of pepper and -vinegar he began business in earnest. Well-dressed farmers, -shoemakers, men, youths, girls, and maidens of almost every grade -clustered round him, and the eagerness with which they clutched -and enjoyed the fried fish, bones, and vinegar <a -name="page106"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 106</span>would have -formed a subject worthy of my friend Herbert Johnson, or W. H. -Overend, the artists of the “Graphic” and -“Illustrated London News.” “Smack” -went their lips, and I turned away disgusted at the thought and -sight at having found so many simple, gullible beings in the -world, standing ready with open mouths to swallow the greasy -morsels of dirty tramps. It is pleasing to note that all -those who live by frying fish, and also those who live by eating -it, are not of this stamp.</p> -<p>After strolling about for some time I turned among some of my -old friends, Jack, Jim, Bill, Sal, Righteous, Piety, and -Zachriali, gipsies of the cocoa-nut tribes engaged at cocoa-nut -shying. All did not profess to be so low down in the social -scale as the gipsies. Poor “Pea-soup Sal,” with -a reddish face, who had imbibed a little too much from the beer -barrel, and whose legs were not over-strong, particularly -objected to being classed with the gipsies; in fact, as she -propped herself up by the side of her box of cocoa-nut balls, she -turned up her nose, curled her lip, and staggered at the idea of -such “respectable people as they wer-wer-wer-were being -rec-rec-rec-reckoned with the gip-gip-gip-gipsies. They are -a ba-ba-ba-ba-bad lot.” Poor Sal was now overcome, -and fell to the ground. For once in her life she was at any -rate level with those gipsies who were squatting upon the -floor. Her husband, who seemed to be a common-sense sort of -a man, and apparently fairly educated, came to her relief. -If he had not done so, I would not have given much for the -cocoa-nuts, and less still for poor unfortunate Sal.</p> -<p>At times, when business was slack, I entered lengthily into -conversation with him as to what had been the cause of his -getting into such a degrading position.</p> -<p>I learned from him that both he and his wife had received a -good education. The man by trade was a carpenter, and the -woman a dressmaker; but in an evil <a name="page107"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 107</span>hour, instead of trusting to their -own abilities, work, and common sense, they had taken the wrong -turning, and from that time to the present they had been going -down hill, and they could not tell how. All they seemed to -realize was that they thought they were nearly at the -bottom. Both have relations well off in the world; and both -have the respect for their family not to disgrace it by vaunting -their condition before the world, and making it known to their -friends—only to a privileged <i>few</i>—the -disgraceful social condition to which they had brought -themselves. It is something heartrending, past description, -to see a good tradesman and his dressmaking wife fooling their -time away in idleness, wickedness, and sin, tramping the country, -gambling with cocoa-nuts, living in vans, eating garbage, and -trafficking in poor worn-out old horses and donkeys.</p> -<p>I found in further conversation with this unfortunate couple -that gipsies have invented fresh machinations to kill -farmers’ pigs, viz., to take the inside of an apple out and -fill it with mustard; and as the women or children are going up -to the farm-houses some of the apples stuffed with mustard are -thrown among the pigs—pigs are fond of apples—and the -consequence is the large quantity of mustard in the apple -suffocates the pigs, and nobody, except the gipsies, know how it -has been done. Some other members of the gang will visit -the farm-house during the next day or two, under the pretext of -buying up old dead carcases, out of which to render all the fat -to make cart grease. The farmer replies, “Oh yes, we -had a pig,”—or a cow, as the case may -be—“died yesterday. You can have that for five -shillings if you like to dig it. You will find it in the -meadow next to the piggery.” “All right, -guvernor, here’s the money.” Of course the -gipsies fetch it, and it forms a relish for them for a long -time. I have known of cases where the pig has been <a -name="page108"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 108</span>buried for -five days, being unearthed, and turned into food for the big and -little gipsies.</p> -<p>Mr. T— also told me how cows, calves, and bullocks are -treated by the gipsies—the consequence is they are found -dead the next morning in the fields—viz., two or three of -the men will take a handful of hay and a rope, and when they have -caught the cow, they will make it secure, and then the hay is -forced into its throat, and a rope tied and twisted tightly round -its mouth. When suffocation has completed its work, the hay -is drawn out of its throat, and the nostrils are wiped -clean. The gipsies then set off to their camp again. -In a couple of days or so, according to a pre-arranged plan, some -of the gang call upon the farmers to buy any dead cattle or pigs -they may have to sell, and the result is, as in the case of the -pigs suffocated with the mustard in the apples, the cow, calf, or -bullock is taken to their tents or vans, perhaps a few miles -away, and divided among the gipsies.</p> -<p>Some of the gipsies get a living by selling cart grease, which -they say is pure fat, but which in reality is made up principally -of potatoes, yellow turnips, and grease.</p> -<p>The gipsies have found out that “shot” is not so -good to cure a broken-winded horse for one day only, as butter or -lard—butter is preferable. The way they do it is to -let the horse fast overnight, and then early next morning force a -pound of butter down its throat. To cure a -“roarer” a pint of oil is given overnight upon an -empty stomach.</p> -<p>The earnings of cocoa-nut gamblers and others of the same -class vary very much. Mr. T— told me that he and his -wife went upon Northampton racecourse last races with only five -shillings in their pockets, with which they bought some acids, -juices, and scents; these, with plenty of water, they turned into -“pine-apple champagne,” and <a -name="page109"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 109</span>the result -was they made five pounds profit, and plenty to eat and drink, -with a “jollification” into the bargain, the whole of -which was spent in a fortnight, and they had to commence again, -sadder but no wiser.</p> -<p>It is an error to say that gipsies do not rob each other; some -of them have told me that they have been robbed fearfully by -other gipsies, sometimes of as many as a hundred cocoa-nuts at a -time.</p> -<p>While our conversation was going on some silly beings were -knocking their heads against a boss, for which honour they paid -their pennies. What a satire upon the fair, I -thought. Thousands were running their heads against bosses -more deadly in effect than the spring bosses at which they ran -like fighting rams. I was not much afraid of the heads of -the bossers giving way, my only fear was for their necks.</p> -<p>Behind me there was to be seen another crowd shooting at glass -bottles in the air. These might be said to be “windy -customers,” and as a rule they were full of -“gas,” bombast, thin and showy; while those who faced -the “boss” were thick-necked, with plenty of -animalism about them, and ready for a row.</p> -<p>I did not see many gaudily and showily dressed gipsy girls at -the fair, but I saw a large number of gipsy girls dressed as -“farming girls,” “farmers’ -daughters,” and servants, at work among the easy-going -chaps. Some of the girls—or, I should say, -women—held the hands of the “silly” in their -hands, and they were pleasantly looking at the lucky lines with -one eye, and bewitchingly into their faces with the other, while -they told the geese their fortunes, and the pleasures and -troubles they would have on account of “dark ladies” -and “fair ladies,” against whom they were to be on -their guard, or they would not marry the one they loved. In -some cases “dark gentlemen” were trying to steal the -affections of their young lady. As a rule <a -name="page110"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 110</span>gipsies -prognosticate evil from “fair ladies” or “fair -gentlemen.” Of course it would not do to be too heavy -upon the “dark gentlemen” or “dark -ladies.” A number of “shoe girls” were -having their fortunes told also.</p> -<p>One of the gipsies had offended a man close to me from some -cause or other, which had the effect of exasperating the -“beery” man to such an extent that he bawled out, -“You might rake hell out and scratch among the cinders, and -you would not find a worse lot than gipsies.” -“Hold, hold,” I said; “many of them are bad, at -the same time you will find some good-hearted folks among them, a -few of whom I know.” I now turned and had a long -conversation with a gipsy from Kent, and the good woman with her -husband both fell in with my idea of getting the gipsy children -educated by means of a free pass book, and of having their vans -registered. Although busy with the evening meal, it did not -prevent her entering heartily and pleasantly into my plans for -effecting an improvement in the condition of the gipsies and -their children, and more than once, surrounded as she was with -everything the opposite of heavenly, said, “Thank you, sir, -thank you, sir; and may God bless you for your efforts to improve -the gipsies.” I told her that all the gipsies were -not so kindly disposed as to wish me success. “Never -mind them, sir; all the right-thinking gipsies will say -so.” “You have spoken the truth,” I said; -“before you can apply a remedy to a festering sore the -proper thing to do is to probe it to the bottom, and this I have -been trying for a long time to do.” It is a thousand -times better to get at the root of a sore than to plaster it over -by misleading fiction and romance, as some masculine writers, -fascinated by the artificial charms of gipsy beauties—so -called—have been doing. In this late day such efforts -to hoodwink thoughtful, loyal, and observing men, and others who -have the welfare of the nation at heart, may well be compared to -a man <a name="page111"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -111</span>sticking a beautiful French butterfly upon a dead ox, -and then going among a crowd of bystanders with a glib tongue, -and cap in hand, trying to make them believe that the rotten dead -ox was a mass of beautiful butterflies, which only required a -shower of coppers and praises to cause them to fly.</p> -<p>No wonder at stable-boys and quacks, the sons of ministers, -and others, becoming bewitched to the extent of having to face -the frowns of friends on account of their gipsy-poaching -proclivities.</p> -<p>My process may have been sharp and painful, and probably it is -so now, but it will be found effective, enduring, and pleasing in -the end. To deal with the evils of gipsying in a manner to -excite the worst side of human nature may be pleasing for the -present, but it will bring remorse and rottenness which no amount -of misleading romance and pleasingly painted sin will be able to -cover.</p> -<p>During the day I was informed by the gipsies that one young -farmer had spent fifteen shillings in bowling for cocoa-nuts, and -a youth not more than fourteen years old had spent five shillings -similarly; this being so, it is not to be wondered at that our -present-day gipsies should be on the increase at the rate they -are. With fair weather, nuts cheap, cricketers out of the -way, and “plenty of young uns,” it is a -“roaring trade.”</p> -<p>When questioning one gipsy woman as to how many of the gipsies -upon the ground could read and write—I roughly calculated -the number of gipsies to be over a hundred men and women, and a -hundred and fifty children—she answered me as follows: -“Lord bless you, my dear good gentleman, I do not know more -than three upon the green who can read and write. It would -be a blessed thing if they could; but that will never be, as -nobody takes any interest in us gipsies.”</p> -<p>It was tearfully sorrowful to see over a hundred and <a -name="page112"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 112</span>fifty -children squatting about in bogs, dirt, filth, excitement, -iniquity, and double-dyeing sin, groping their way to -wretchedness and misery, without any hand being put out to save -them.</p> -<p>So far as I could gather, not half a dozen of these gangs of -un-English, lawless tramps and travellers had ever been in either -day or Sunday school. And our civilizing -“State” has not taken any steps for bringing the -gipsy and other travelling children under school influence.</p> -<p>“Now, my lads, bowl away! All bad nuts returned; -bowl away! Try your luck now, my young gentlemen; try your -luck; bowl away!” Bang went a cocoa-nut off one of -the stilts, flying in all directions, with the oil scattered to -the winds. One thing has often surprised me, that the -gipsies have not had frequently to carry cracked skulls, for some -of the roguish “farmer chaps” seem to delight more in -bowling at the gipsies’ heads than the cocoa-nuts at their -feet. It is their quick-sightedness and dexterous movements -that save them. No drone would do to be at the back of the -“pegs,” or he would have to look out for his -“pins.”</p> -<p>A little farther ahead there was a family of gipsies of the -name of Smith, man, wife, and seven children, squatting upon the -ground to take their evening meal. As soon as they saw me -they heartily invited me to join them. Gipsies never invite -any one to partake of a meal with them unless with the whole -heart. They never ask you with their mouths to join them -and in their hearts hope you will not. This is one of the -favourable traits in their character. For a man they love -they would rob a hen-roost to fill his belly, and they would spit -in the face of the man they hate. When you are eating with -them, or, in fact, doing anything with them, you must be as one -of them, or you will have to look out for -“squalls.” They can bear and respect the man or -woman who, as a friend, speaks openly <a name="page113"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 113</span>and plainly to them, but they will -be down upon the man “like a load of bricks” who -tries by cunning and craft to get “the best side of -them.”</p> -<p>At the first interview they suspect that every stranger has -some design upon them, and, as a consequence of ignorance and -suspicion, they appear to be sullen and reserved. This -feature of gipsy life wears off as they find out that you are a -friend to them.</p> -<p>I accepted their invitation to tea in the midst of cocoa-nut -establishments, steam horses, screeching of the whistles, -horrifying music of a “hurdy-gurdy” organ, swing -boats, and the screams of giddy girls and larking chaps, trotting -donkeys, the galloping of “roaring horses and broken-winded -ponies,” whose riders were half drunk and mad with rage, -beating, kicking, slashing, swearing, and banging, till both the -poor animals and their riders foamed at their mouths like mad -dogs.</p> -<p>The old china was fetched up for me, which, Mrs. Smith said, -was over a hundred years old. A good cup of tea was poured -out, the thin bread and butter cut and laid upon a clean cloth, -and I was just about to sit upon an old piece of dirty flannel -that lay upon the grass—for the grass was at this time -getting a little damp—when the good woman cried out, loud -enough to shake one’s nerves, “My dear good -gentleman, you must not sit down upon that.” -“No, no,” Smith, the ungracious-nosed gipsy cried out -in a voice as loud as his wife’s. “If you do -you’ll get more than you bargained for. It’s -all alive, don’t you see it?” Mrs. Smith saw -that I was anxious to change quarters to the other side of the -tent, and apologized for the filthy rag being there, by saying -that “one of the children from one of the other vans had -brought it, and had not taken it back again.” We were -now seated, and I was enjoying my tea as well as I -could—they said that “they hoped that I should look -upon the <a name="page114"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -114</span>tea as a fairing,” and as such I looked upon it -and enjoyed it, for I was both hungry and thirsty—when a -Northampton baker appeared upon the scene vending his -bread. A little pleasantry was exchanged between the -bread-seller, the gipsies, and myself about the size of the -loaves, the dearness of the bread, and what was put into the -flour before baking to make the loaves white, large, and -showy. The conversation turned upon potatoes and alum, and -the gipsy Smith discussed the quantity of potato and alum there -was in the bread the baker had sold to them. This nettled -the baker, and he said, “Bread mixed with potatoes and alum -was good enough for pigs, but it—” The gipsy -would not let him finish his sentence, but instantly sprang to -his feet, and ran at the baker, and struck him on the breast with -his tightened fist, calling out, “Do you mean to say that -bread mixed with potatoes is good enough for pigs, and do you -call us pigs? You reckon us as pigs, do you? You -shall remember this or I am not Righteous Gipsy -Smith.” And just as he was running at the -half-frightened baker again Mrs. Smith stepped between -them. An altercation took place, one of the most disgusting -and sickening I ever knew. The baker’s wife now came -up, and for a few minutes there was such a storm over the pot as -I had never seen in my life. It bid fair to become a -general <i>melée</i>. I was called in to decide who -was in the wrong. This was no little difficulty, as the -gipsy was excited by beer, and the baker by rage and fear. -The end of it was I calmed them both down. The baker and -his wife sped their way to Northampton, and the gipsy to the back -of his van, to vent his bile and calm his passion, after which we -sat down to finish our tea. This being over, and calm, -peace, and quietness reigning, I gave the children some coppers -and shook hands warmly with the gipsies, and thanked them, and -then turned to another phase of gipsy life.</p> -<p><a name="page115"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 115</span>I -began to think that it was quite time to look after my lodging -for the night, and wended my way to Boughton village, some -half-mile or more away. This was a work of no light -undertaking. I first tried to find a clean bed in a quiet -cottage, which, after tramping about from house to house, -knocking, inquiring, had to be given up as impossible. The -poor folks eyed me over from head to foot with wondering -curiosity. They seemed to be puzzled as to my movements, -and as to whether they should reckon me as a gentleman, or a -bailiff, who had secreted in my pockets either a county-court -summons or an execution. I next tried the “publicans -and sinners.” At first they hesitated about giving me -an answer; especially the innkeeper at the -“Griffin.” They seemed to wonder whether I was -or was not a parson, spying out the land. The landlady at -the “Red Lion” was holding out encouragement, until -the landlord, who might be made of vinegar and crabs, appeared -upon the scene, calling out gruffly, “No, we can’t do -wi anybodys;” and out I went, expecting to have a stone for -my pillow under some wall or hedge-bottom upon the green. -Fortunately I called at a cottage on the roadside, about a -hundred and fifty yards from the green, to see if they could -oblige me with a bed. After a minute’s hesitation, -the good woman, who seemed to have a large heart and a -good-natured face, said, “Yes, you look to be a gentleman, -and we will try to accommodate you. Come in and make -yourself at home. Will you have some tea?”</p> -<p>After a rest for a few minutes, and as the shades of evening -were gathering round, I strolled upon the “green” and -found Bacchus was on his throne with Atè, Discordia, -Momus, and Mars as his attendants. Concordia, Harpocrates, -and Pudicitia had not been upon the “green,” or, if -so, they had been only for a very short time. Broken -glasses, empty beer barrels, corks, pieces <a -name="page116"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 116</span>of paper, -and stools upside down were to be seen on every hand. The -perfume of burning paraffin, aroma of the beer barrel, and stench -of the brandy bottle met me at every turn as I wended my way -among the wicked, silly, larking, and foolish. Here and -there could be seen girls scarcely in their teens, with the arms -of half-drunk “chaps” round their waists—upon -the table before them were “jugs of beer”—and -opening their mouths wide as if they would be delighted at any -one looking down their throats as they bawled out most disgusting -songs. In one of the booths between forty and fifty boys -and girls were larking together in a manner that made one shudder -to think of the results. Some of them were threatening -vengeance to their “Bills,” “Jacks,” or -“Toms,” if they said a word to them when they got -home.</p> -<p>One of the women struck up, as if she was determined to -contribute her share to the debauch, in squeaking tones -resembling that of a cracked tin whistle—</p> -<blockquote><p>“We won’t go home till morning,<br /> - Till daylight does -appear.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>A little ahead a rustle, commotion, and hubbub was going on; -of course I must join in the crush. I could not get very -near. When I inquired what was the matter, I was coolly -told that “it was only a man and woman fight.” -Thanks to the excellent body of policemen at hand, it was soon -stopped. Another “turn” in the distance was -taking place. A gipsy—a big, cowardly, hulking -fellow—and an Englishman had long had a grudge against each -other. The Englishman could not get the cowardly gipsy to -“fight it out.” At last the Englishman offered -the gipsy half a crown and a gallon of beer to let him have one -“round” with him. The gipsy consented to this -condition. The money was paid and the beer drunk, after -which the gipsy wanted to back out of the bargain. Before -the big gipsy would at the last minute undertake <a -name="page117"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 117</span>to fight -the little Englishman, the gipsy stipulated that there was to be -“no hitting upon the noses.” The Englishman did -not like this shuffling, but he agreed to it, and they stripped -for the encounter. For a few minutes they sparred about -until the gipsy saw his opportunity to hit the Englishman full -tilt upon his nose, which he did with a tremendous force -sufficient to break it. When the gipsy was asked why he did -it, he said, “I could not help it, my hand -slipped.” A little farther on still, I came upon a -policeman rolling an empty beer barrel from the policemen’s -tent towards the beer stores.</p> -<p style="text-align: center"> -<a href="images/p117b.jpg"> -<img alt= -"The “sweets” and “sours” of Gipsy modern -life" -title= -"The “sweets” and “sours” of Gipsy modern -life" - src="images/p117s.jpg" /> -</a></p> -<p>During the day I did not observe one “blue ribbon” -policeman upon the grounds—nor, in fact, did I see one upon -the course. No doubt there were many good and true men and -women upon the “green” who had gone there purposely -to sell their wares. Would to God that there had been more -of them, and then there would have been less rows, and less cause -for such a body of policemen. The pure gipsy -rows—<i>i.e.</i>, a number of gipsies joining in a general -<i>melée</i> of an “up-and-down fight,” paying -off old scores—were less this year than they have been -known for a long time. Several times a row was imminent, -but with a little tact and the common sense of the -women—aye, and of the men too—it was averted. I -observed a little more sulkiness than usual on the part of a few -of the gipsies, but with a little pleasantry this passed off.</p> -<p>I retired from the hubbub for a few minutes, to stand against -one of the huge trees growing upon the edge of the -“green,” and while there I heard some gipsies -chuckling over the “gingered” and -“screwed” horses and ponies they had sold during the -fair, and arranging which of their party should hunt the customer -out the next day, to buy back for a five-pound note their -palmed-off “broken-winded” and “roaring old -screws” which they <a name="page118"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 118</span>had sold for seventeen pound or -twenty pound during the fair. A fine-looking broken-winded -horse, “roarer” or “cribber,” with the -mark intact, is almost a fortune for a gipsy. During two or -three years “while he will go,” the -“screw” is sold and bought in again scores of -times. Many of the horse-dealing gipsies are dressed -nowadays as farmers, and by these means they more readily palm -off their “screws” upon young beginning town or -street hawkers, carriers, and higglers.</p> -<p>Living in some of the vans of gipsies there were man, woman, -and, in some instances, seven or eight sons and daughters of all -ages. In other vans and tents there was a mixture of men, -women, and children, not of the same blood relationship; and the -same may be said of some of the travelling gingerbread -hawkers.</p> -<p>Those of the hawkers who were rich enough to own a van slept -in it “higgledy-piggledy,” “pell-mell,” -and “all of a heap.” Those who had not vans, -the men, women, and “chaps” slept upon the ground, -under the stall boards, in a manner which would be a disgrace to -South African civilization and Zulu morals.</p> -<p>In the midst of waning twilight and the gathering of sheets -and rents, some of the gipsy women were preparing for their last -meal before shutting the van doors and drawing to their tent -curtains. Scores of poor little lost, dirty, ignorant, -neglected, and almost naked, gipsy children gathered round me for -“coppers” and “sweets.” After -digging deep into my pocket for all I could find, and -distributing them among the children, I bade the gipsy parents -“good-night” and a “good-bye,” and then -turned to have a chat and a “good-night” with George -Bagworth, the steam-horse driver, and his wife, the -“popgun” firer. George was dressed in his best -large Scotch plaid suit from head to foot. His -“hurdy-gurdy steam organ,” and “flying -horses,” had winged <a name="page119"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 119</span>married and single, men, women, and -children, round and round, exhibiting their thick and thin legs, -not modestly for the riders, but successfully for George and his -sharp, good-looking, business wife. George was in good -humour with himself and everybody else. He entered freely -into conversation about his troubles and trials in former years, -and of his successes, position, and future views.</p> -<p>He is very good to poor cocoa-nut gamblers. It often -happens that some of the poor unfortunate fraternity arrive upon -the “course,” “green,” or -“fair” without a “tanner.” A wink -of his wife’s eye prompts George to advance them sufficient -money to give them a start. This—for there is honour -among thieves—is paid back at the close of the fair, with -many thanks. George pointed out to me again with pride the -vans he had made, and with little greater pride to his artistic -painting of the heathen gods and goddesses, which were the -mainstays of his whirligig establishment.</p> -<p>George’s wife hung down her head at the non-success of -her “popgun” galleries. “But it is no use -‘frettin’ and cryin’ over spilt -milk,’” she said, while preparing their supper -tea. “You’ll join us, won’t you, sir? you -shall be made right welcome, and have the best we’ve -got.” They fetched out their best antique china cup -and saucer, and we three sat down to a box table with cloth cover -to enjoy the twilight meal, with the twinkling stars overhead, -and the gipsies’ lurcher dogs prowling about the tents and -vans, snuffling and smelling after the odds and ends and other -trifles. Speaking within compass, I should think there -would not be fewer than thirty lurchers skulking under the stalls -as eagerly as if after hares and rabbits. Of course George -Bagworth’s joined in the scent and sniffle. -“Mine host” was a poacher bred and born—at -least he had a spell of it in his younger days <a -name="page120"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 120</span>among the -woods, parks, spinnies, and plantations joining Leicestershire -and Staffordshire coalfields. The twinkling star repast was -finished; hubbub, din, screeching, yelling, fighting, singing, -shouting, swearing, blaspheming, and loud oaths were dying -out. Pluto seemed to be getting tired of his feast; Somnus -was observed stealthily wending his way among Bacchus’s -wounded followers, and the vast herds and tribes of poor, -neglected, uneducated, and lost little children living in sin, -pestilential, and vitiated atmosphere with dark—very -dark—and black future before them, which the rising of a -morning’s sun could not dispel.</p> -<p>As I wended my way to my lodgings I could not help thinking of -Sennacherib’s army besieging Jerusalem with no Hezekiah to -deliver.</p> -<p>I had now found my way to my lodgings. Round the family -table in the cottage there were Mr. and Mrs. Gayton, “mine -host and hostess,” and one or two friends. While the -conversation was going on a party of drunken fellows were bawling -out down the road some kind of song, which I could not -comprehend. Mr. Gayton’s sister said it was a song -she knew well; and with a little persuasion—notwithstanding -Mrs. Gayton’s twitching, nervous manner and disinclination -to hear it—the good woman struck up in a sweet but rather -shrill voice, and in somewhat affecting tremulous tone, the song, -as follows:</p> -<blockquote><p>“Little empty cradle, treasured so with -care,<br /> - Tho’ thy precious burden now has fled,<br /> -How we miss the locks of curly golden hair,<br /> - Peeping from the tiny snow-white bed.<br /> -When the dimpled cheeks and pretty laughing eyes,<br /> - From the rumpled pillows shone,<br /> -Then I gazed with gladness, now I looked with sighs,<br /> - Empty is the cradle—baby’s gone.</p> -<p><a name="page121"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -121</span>“Baby left her cradle for the golden shore,<br /> - O’er the silvery waters she has flown,<br /> -Gone to join the angels, peaceful evermore,<br /> - Empty is the cradle—baby’s -gone.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>After the first verse was ended I noticed again a little -subdued and stifled sobbing, and the mistress of the house wiping -her eyes with the corner of her apron.</p> -<p>I could see that there was some cause for the tear-fetching -tenderness and sympathy that was manifested, and I gently asked -for information, and was told by the good people that during the -last month two of the youngest babies had been sent for to live -in the angel-world where no tears are seen and sighing -heard. A melting, sorrowful sadness seemed to creep over me -as I looked round the room. A parent cannot describe the -feelings, and no one but a parent can feel them.</p> -<p>The cradle was empty in the corner; the lovely little birds -had flown to sing in a lovelier clime. The tender-hearted -mother gave way to a woman’s dewy feelings while another -verse was sung, in which I could not help joining, owing to -having passed through similar circumstances. I had lost -more than one little tender lamb, and could enter feelingly into -the motherly woman’s misfortunes. I said the children -were not lost but gone before, where there are neither tears nor -the pinchings of poverty. In the midst of the solemn scene -I wended my way upstairs to my humble cot; my softened feelings, -wet eyes, and scalding tears prevented me worshipping Morpheus -till just as the candle was flickering out in the socket.</p> -<p>I then dropped into a dozing sleep to awake at opening day, -after which I bade my friends the gipsies good-bye, and left -“the mother bending o’er her beauty buds.”</p> -<h2><a name="page122"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -122</span>Rambles among the Gipsies at St. Giles’ Fair, -Oxford.</h2> -<p><span class="smcap">On</span> Saturday, September 4th, 1882, I -found myself travelling southward by the aid of a carrier’s -waggon and first, second, and third class railway carriages, -surrounded by gentlemen, clergymen, tradesmen, farmers, -cattle-dealers, labourers, soldiers, snobs, fops, and scamps, and -ladies fat and thin, pretty, plain, reserved, lovable, and -smiling; and as we neared London the sleeping, yawning, gaping, -and slow movements seemed to be giving way to activity, bustle, -restlessness, and anxious looks. Stopping, banging, and -dashing, and on we sped. In the train I had a pleasant chat -with the Rev. Mr. Gibbotson, vicar of Braunston, who related to -me some of his experiences with canal-boat children and the -gipsies. In one instance a gipsy charged him three -shillings and sixpence for grinding his nail scissors; and in -another instance a sharp, clever boat boy of twelve had passed -the sixth standard, and was in a fair way of becoming a pupil -teacher, but in six months spent among the canal children in -floating up and down the country, he had learnt some of their -wicked and bad habits, which had ruined his career. <a -name="page123"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 123</span>After -changing carriages, I saw at one of the North London stations a -woman, who must have imagined that she was in the country, -creeping out of one of the compartments with her sweet-looking -child of some four or five summers at snail speed, and as if -changing would have done to-morrow. She quietly found her -way to the carriage door and opened it very gently, and was about -to step leisurely upon the platform when the train began to move -off. Her eyes were now opened, and with a wild stare she -tumbled the child upon the platform, and then in getting out -herself she fell upon the footboard. Fortunately for -herself and the child, the guard was close by at the time, and -with the quickness of lightning he seized the child with one hand -and its mother with the other and pulled them upon the platform, -the child upon its face and the mother upon her back, and saved -their lives in less time than I could twinkle my eye. The -child cried, the mother screamed, and the last I saw of them, as -we were rounding the curve, was that a porter was picking up the -child, and the bewildered mother was gathering herself together -as well as she could.</p> -<p style="text-align: center"> -<a href="images/p123b.jpg"> -<img alt= -"“On the road” to Oxford Fair" -title= -"“On the road” to Oxford Fair" - src="images/p123s.jpg" /> -</a></p> -<p>On my way I called at a large block of new mansions in course -of erection, and which my son had in hand, and found a joke very -nearly carried into tragical and awful effect. The -“lift” was not working well, and a gentleman not of a -classical or ministerial kind, rather than use his legs in going -up the ordinary stairs, preferred using the temporary goods -hoist, and said to one of the men as he was jumping into the cage -against the wish of friends, “Jump in, and if we must go to -hell, we may as well go together.” They had no sooner -landed at the top of the building and just cleared the cage, than -it dropped to the bottom of the building with terrific force, -carrying destruction with it. One minute longer and they -would both have been in eternity.</p> -<p><a name="page124"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -124</span>Having fairly landed in London, I made my way to the -Religious Tract Society, and the Wesleyan Sunday-school Union, -for some pictures, and books, and magazines for the gipsy -children, which were gladly given to me, and with my bundles, -bags, &c., I turned into my lodging in Museum Street well -tired. Overnight I inquired of my host if I could get a -’bus or a cab that would take me to Paddington by nine -o’clock on Sunday morning. At this question he shook -his head and said, “The ’busses will not be running -so early as eight o’clock, and the cabs, what few you will -meet, will be on their way home; therefore you will have a -difficulty in getting your packages to the station. And if -you order one overnight it is ten to one if they will -come.” From this answer I could see that my only -course was to be up early enough to lug them to the station -myself. Six o’clock on Sunday morning found me -getting a cup of cold tea and a sandwich for my breakfast, after -which I started down Oxford Street with my four parcels, weighing -about three-quarters of a hundredweight. No ’busses -were to be seen. Here and there were tired, straggling -cabmen wending their way home. As I hailed them they shook -their heads and on they went. I managed to carry my load -about two hundred yards, and then turned off the street to rest, -and to leave the few stragglers moving about Oxford Street -wondering as to my movements. Not far from Tottenham Court -Road I turned off the main street a few yards, and stood with my -back to the solitary passers-by, putting a few notes into my -pocket-book, when I was startled and somewhat surprised to find -two tall young men at my elbow, and without a word one of them -deposited upon the Religious Tract Society’s parcel a small -book, entitled “A Cure for the Incurable,” which I -picked up and read as follows:</p> -<blockquote><p>“During the journey we were joined by a -young man <a name="page125"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -125</span>and woman, the latter evidently labouring under some -distressing bodily infirmity. The young man took advantage -of the vacated scats to place his afflicted companion in a -recumbent position, carefully covering her feet with a -shawl. I gently alluded to her appearing unwell. -‘Yes, ma’am,’ she replied, ‘I am just -dismissed from St. Thomas’s Hospital as -<i>incurable</i>.’ The tone of her voice, and the -tear which trickled down her pale cheek, instantly awakened my -sympathy. Her four children, one a baby, and her dear -husband, she said, made it ‘hard to die;’ but she -believed God would care for the motherless ones, and cheer the -lonely widower. ‘The doctors,’ she added, -‘say I may live some months, but that cure is -impossible. So I thought I would rather be in my own -cottage, where I could look at my children, and see the flowers -outside my door, and have fresh air, than remain in the hospital; -though I had everything of the best there, and great kindness -shown me. But, ma’am, home is home; and my husband -knows how to nurse me better than any one else. I know that -I shall not live long; but I shall die at home, and God will -comfort my dear husband, and will go through the dark valley with -me.’ This brief interview was deeply touching to me, -and my tears flowed with theirs.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>Just as I had finished the hasty glance through the little -book, and was preparing for another “move on,” I -noticed a tall, emaciated, half-clad young woman approaching me -from the opposite side of the street. Such a picture of -misery I have rarely seen. She did not seem to have more -than one loosely-hung old garment upon her, which, as she walked, -revealed the shape of her figure, which did not at all seem a bad -one; moral deformities had not as yet, to all appearance, begun -to tell heavily upon her frame. On presenting herself to me -she said, in tones of despair, “Will you please give me -sufficient to buy me a cup of <a name="page126"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 126</span>coffee? I want it very bad, I -can assure you, sir. Do, dear sir.” Her eyes -were red either with drink, tears, or anguish. Poor lost -soul! thought I; and on she went to ruin and death.</p> -<p>I started again, and had got nearly to Oxford Circus, and -deposited my parcels upon the pavement, and was surveying things -over in my mind, when I heard something chirping over my -head. I could not tell where the sound came from. It -was not crying, nor was it either singing or moaning. My -curiosity was set at rest as I lifted up my head to look -above. To my surprise, a young woman with lovely face, and -head studded with “curling bobs,” was peeping out of -one of the top bedroom windows and delightfully engaged in -throwing kisses at somebody across the street. -“Chirp,” “chirp,” “chirp,” -owing to the stillness of the morning, sounded as distinctly as -if they were near to me; at any rate the kisses were not for me, -and on I trudged. As I passed Holles Street, people, young -and old, with books under their arms and in their hands, were -going to early Sunday morning prayer-meetings, or other religious -services. What a contrast to a gathering of half-drunken -hulking youths and men tumbling and quarrelling about Gilbert -Street, I thought. After receiving not a few insults, I -moved forward by stages till I arrived at the Marble Arch, about -eight o’clock, with my face covered with perspiration, and -my hands, arms, and shoulders tingling and aching with a kind of -deadness and shooting pains. Scavenger carts were moving to -and fro, carrying the filth and off-scouring of all -nations. A coffee stall seemed to have been doing a good -business, if the pell-mell gathering, sauntering array might be -taken as a specimen of the quantity and quality of the coffee -drinkers, who might be called the loitering customers of the -“pub” in search of more substantial beverage than gin -and beer. Near Southwick Crescent and Oxford Square I -passed <a name="page127"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -127</span>another coffee stall, more respectable in appearance -than the one at Marble Arch, upon which was painted in large -letters, “The Church of England Temperance -Society.” I now began to try to make a further move, -when a cabman hailed in sight, who looked as if he were going on -the stand instead of coming off it. A bargain was struck, -and he bowled me off at a rattling pace to the Great Western -station, where I arrived about twenty minutes past eight -o’clock, stiff and tired about my legs and arms. In -pacing backwards and forwards upon the platform, I nudged, -accidentally, the elbow of a porter who was taking his -“swig” at a passenger’s whiskey bottle. -Whether the neck of the bottle tilted against his teeth, or some -of its contents went down his bosom instead of his throat, I -could not tell. He did not say much about the accident, but -his looks were “awful,” and my begging pardon could -not turn them into a smile. Another porter said, -“They could do without Sunday travelling if it were not for -the London beer-drinkers. Shut up beershops and you will -gag Sunday trains.”</p> -<p>Some thirty or forty city fishermen, with their rods and tins, -were moving backwards and forwards waiting for the train; they -were evidently going out for a spree. One round -jolly-faced, good-looking porter said to me, “They are -going out a-fishing, but it’s not many fish they -catch. They catch something they don’t expect -sometimes. They are not all fish that comes to their -lines. ‘Many of the city fishermen gets a line and a -tin, and goes into the country and calls themselves travellers, -and turns into the first ‘pub’ they come to and then -they booze all God’s day away, and keep us poor chaps at -work all Sunday instead of going to church or chapel. -Sunday travelling ought to be done away with; at any rate there -ought only to be two trains a day each way, out and into -London.” A porter then cried out, “Take your -places for Slough, Reading, and Oxford.” <a -name="page128"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 128</span>I obeyed -his call, and found myself sitting opposite an old friend, Mr. J. -Seaman, from the <i>Weekly Times</i>. In the train the -brandy bottle was pulled out by a man whose nose apparently had -been too prominent upon his pugilistic-looking face at times for -somebody’s bruising machine; at any rate there was an -indent in it upon which cock robin could have sat very -comfortably for an hour piping forth the curses of drink and its -consequences, and the blessing of God’s Sabbath as a day of -rest for man and beast.</p> -<p>In another corner was a young woman, dispensing liberally port -wine to her new and old friends around her, bringing to the faces -of some of them the alternate red blush and pale white, -indicating that some monster was at work within them, telling -them that it was wrongdoing. After a three hours’ -pleasant chat on this bright summer’s morning, with my -friend, I arrived at Oxford. After partaking of a cold -lunch, I made my way with my arms full of pictures, books, and -illustrated tracts, to the two hundred vans and covered carts -outside Oxford, near Somers Town. By the time I had arrived -the rain had begun to come down heavily. In wending my way -among the nearly two-mile length of vans, shows, covered carts, -and waggons, I found some old faces who gladly welcomed me. -The road was little better than a puddle. Thousands of -Oxonians were running to and fro, star-gazing, gossiping, -laughing, shouting, and making fun on the roadside. With a -vast number of them Sunday seemed as on other days. Little -stalls of nuts, apples, plums, were on the footpaths. -Notwithstanding the pouring rain, the poor little dirty gipsy -children clustered round me in the vans and out of them for the -pictures, books, &c. Poor lost souls! some of them, old -and young, big and little, men and women, might not have been -washed for months. Some of the “hobbledehoys, betwixt -men and boys,” of Oxford tried to make as big fools of -themselves as they could, and kept shouting <a -name="page129"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 129</span>out, -“Now, governor, they will swallow your bag if you will give -it ’em.” Some of the town’s children -admired my pretty books, and closed upon me for some, which I am -sorry to say I had to refuse, as they were for the big and little -travellers. In the vans, &c., there would be an average -of four children, two men, and two women, and out of this vast -mass of travellers there would not be fifty who could read or -write. “Of the persons,” says the <i>Daily -Telegraph</i>, “who were committed to prison last year, -60,840 could neither read nor write. Ignorance and crime go -hand in hand together. This is a fact beyond -disputation.” In some of the vans I counted eight -children, besides the men and women. In one van there was a -man with a broken leg. In three other vans there were three -men ill. Several of the women had bruises upon their faces, -and two had black eyes, and the children were squatting about -among the mud in the ditch.</p> -<blockquote><p>“I was a taper smoking,<br /> - Lying by the footway,<br /> - Lease gleam of red away,<br /> -Smoke my thin flame choking.”</p> -<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Dr. -Grosart</span>, <i>Sunday at Home</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p>Under the vans there were over a hundred lurcher dogs, ready -for anything, including white-tailed rabbits, -“shoshi,” long-legged hares, -“kanégro,” and other trifles of this kind, -down to a shin-bone of beef hanging loosely in a butcher’s -shop—aye, and a piece of a man’s calf if he came too -near to them and was not wanted. Gipsies’ dogs are so -highly trained that they understand a gipsy’s looks; and I -should not be surprised to hear that their dogs can -“rocker” Romany. The dogs are perfectly masters -of the art of killing hedgehogs, <i>hotchi-witchi</i>. Like -their masters, they go stealthily to work and never -“open.” Gipsy poachers have been known to clear -a field of hares <a name="page130"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -130</span>and rabbits and “bag their game” while the -keepers have been lying in wait for them over the fence.</p> -<p>Among the vans I came across, for the first time, a -“George Smith” a gipsy. I have met with any -number of “John Smiths,” “Bill Smiths,” -“Rily Smiths,” but never a “George -Smith.” This led me to have a long chat with him and -his wife. They are Oxfordshire gipsies, and from what I -learned afterwards they are “tidy sort of -folks.” I felt inclined to have a long conversation; -in fact, I seemed to feel a greater interest in him on account of -his being a “George Smith” gipsy. The good -woman and her six children looked almost like pure gipsies, but -such was not the fact. They could “rocker” a -little only, and got a fair living by gambling in cocoa-nuts and -horse-dealing. “George Smith” told me that he -never went more than fifty miles from home, and when he bought -and sold horses—of a third-rate kind—once he could do -so the second time. All horse-dealing gipsies are not of -this class. Gipsies often told me that they like to see -fresh faces, fresh places, and fresh money. During my -conversation with Mrs. Smith, she said formerly she liked -hedgehogs; but since she had found out that “they liked -beetles and snakes” her “stomach had turned against -them.” She went on to say, “I am no doctor, but -I am told by those who know, that the yellow fat inside a -hedgehog, which you know, sir, is from the poison of snakes and -adders; hedgehogs are dead on snakes and adders. -Immediately a snake sees a hedgehog it kicks up a terrible row, -and tries to scamper off as fast as it can. No more -hedgehogs for me while I live; and I am sure our George will not -have any.” Not one of this family of Smiths could -tell a letter, although they sometimes sent their children to -school a short time in the winter; but, as the good woman said, -“Lord bless you, my dear gentleman, what bit they <a -name="page131"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 131</span>learn in -the winter is gone again in the summer, and they are no better -for it.” I told them my plan for meeting their case, -viz., by the registration of their vans and a free education pass -book for their children, with which they heartily agreed. I -left them several pleasing children’s pictures, cards, -&c., with which they were highly delighted, and I then made -my way to quell a gipsy row further on, which I found to be, as -usual, over the most trivial things. While I was busy among -the gipsies I saw two young ladies, I might almost say angels, -from Oxford, disregarding the rain, talking and distributing -tracts among them. The tracts were not exactly of the right -kind; children’s religious pictorial literature is what is -the most pleasing, acceptable, and useful. Dry tracts are -no better than waste paper; and it is almost a waste of time and -money to distribute them. A little further on were three -gentlemen from Oxford discoursing to a group of gipsy children, -and no doubt they did some good; at least I hope so. If -anything, their excellent well-meant remarks were not made -sufficiently interesting, or brought down to the gipsy children -and adults’ capacities. A wild, dry anecdote, badly -told, and without a pleasing and practical application, will not -do much good at any time.</p> -<p>In addressing gipsies, and other people of this class, two -things are needed to ensure success. There must either be -the extreme earnestness or the extreme simplicity, and no man or -woman can succeed in winning them over to virtuous paths unless -these features are ever brought prominently out. They must -either be as Paul preaching to the Athenians, or as Christ upon -the Mount discoursing to the multitudes in deeply interesting -parables, put with an irresistible force of love and simplicity; -or as St. John the divine when surrounded by little children, -preaching with but few words, but speaking <a -name="page132"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 132</span>volumes of -love in sympathetic looks, melting tears, and gentle touches, -reaching tender and obdurate hearts in a Christ-like fashion, -with a power that the devil himself could not withstand. -Love, earnestness, and child-like simplicity brought to bear upon -any gipsy children who are sharp and clever will produce -surprising heavenly results—aye, and from the gipsy men and -women too. In the gipsy mine there is room for all -workers.</p> -<blockquote><p>“Working together in the sacred mine,<br /> -We trace the veins of ore beneath our feet,<br /> -Till riches unimaginable greet.”</p> -<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Richard -Wilton</span>, M.A., <i>Sunday at Home</i>, No. 1268.</p> -</blockquote> -<p>Instead of working—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Oft have we lingered in the <span -class="GutSmall">TENT</span>,<br /> - The ‘pearl’ -unbought,<br /> -The book unread, the knee unbent<br /> - The grace unsought.<br /> -Oft have despondency and shame<br /> - Our faith assailed,<br /> -And when we would confess Thy name<br /> - Our courage failed.”</p> -<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Canon -Bateman</span>, <i>Sunday at Home</i>, No. 1267.</p> -</blockquote> -<p>Among this mile and a half of gipsy vans there were some -“nice and clean” travelling homes. In one I -found a good woman reading to her children by the evening fire, -and the kettle “singing on the hob.” As I -paddled and waddled over boot-tops in mud, in the midst of this -vast concourse of people young and old, never in my life did I so -fully realize the case of the poor man who had fallen among -thieves, and the action of the priest and Levite, and also that -of the Samaritan. The whole scene depicted in the good old -book seemed to come before me as one vast panorama, exhibiting -human life under a variety of aspects. On the one hand, -drawn <a name="page133"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -133</span>along the side of the road in the ditch for more than a -mile and a half, there were two hundred vans, carts, and tents, -inhabited by a thousand gipsy men, women, and children of all -ages, mostly in the deepest depths of wretchedness, ignorance, -misery, and dirt—of many of whom it might be said that they -were thieves among thieves—had been travelling all Saturday -night or on Sunday morning to be at the fair in time for a good -place. Gipsies, showpeople, and others of this wandering -class travel chiefly on Sundays. Saturday nights and Monday -nights are, as a rule, their best nights. Some of them had -with their poor bony horses, from “shutting-up time” -on Saturday night to Sunday afternoon, travelled over forty -miles, and most wretched spectacles they were. On the other -hand, and on the footpath, there were thousands of gentle and -simple, rich and poor, young and old, saints and sinners, -ministers and their flocks, moving to and fro, some of whom -sneered at the gipsies, others mocked, laughed, and joked. -Some were disgusted, and others looked pensive and sorrowful at -the picture of an Oxford Lent carnival being spent in this way on -a Christian Sabbath in the centre of Christendom and -civilization, with its hundreds of Christian ministers within -sight and call, who did not answer to the voice of love or -duty. Well might Washbourne cry out—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Our hearts are broke, our harps -unstringèd be,<br /> -Our only musick’s sighs and groans,<br /> -Our songs are to the tune of <i>lachrymose</i>,<br /> -We are fretted all to skin and bones.”</p> -<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Dr. -Grosart’s</span> “<i>Fuller Worthies</i>.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>After I had distributed my books, and wended my way to the end -of this long lane of sin and iniquity, I turned to look at the -heartrending sight. There were hundreds of gipsy men and -women, some few of whom had fallen from the paths of virtue, -uprightness, and honesty, and some six hunched <a -name="page134"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 134</span>to seven -hundred poor gipsy children of all ages weltering in the -ditch. Not twenty children out of this vast number had been -taught at the knee of a kind, gentle, loving mother to lisp in -tender, trembling simple tones, to which heaven and the whole -angelic host stoop to listen with open ears, for fear one word -might be lost—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Lord Jesus teach a child to pray,<br /> - Who humbly kneels to Thee,<br /> -And every night and every day<br /> - My Friend and Saviour be.</p> -<p>“While here I live, give me Thy grace,<br /> - And when I’m called to die,<br /> -Oh, take my soul to see Thy face,<br /> - And sing Thy praise on high.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>My heart was almost ready to break, and the big teardrop -forced its way down my face. Just as I was turning away -with a sad and aching heart, a little sharp gipsy girl dark-eyed, -of ten summers, clutched hold of my hand and coat. She -looked up into my face and said, “Eh, Mr. Smith, -don’t you know me? Don’t you remember giving me -a little book and a penny when I was very ill in our van upon the -Leicester racecourse last year? Mother and doctor said I -should die, but you see I’m not dead yet. My name is -Smith. There are lots of gipsy Smiths.” Before -she had finished her interesting little story a large number of -little gipsies had gathered round me, among whom I had to -distribute, with care and tact, all the pictures and little books -I had left. It was now dark. Fires in old gipsy tin -buckets and on the wet ground were to be seen; sticks were -crackling; lights shining under the vans and in the small windows -and through the crevices and over the top half of their doors; -their evening meals sent forth a variety of odours, ranging from -snail soup to red herrings, dead pig, and hashed venison. -The barking and growling of their lurcher dogs were heard more -frequently <a name="page135"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -135</span>and savagely. The thousands of dripping -star-gazers and sightseers, rough and smooth, drunk and sober, -had begun to get pleasingly less; rain was coming down almost in -torrents; nevertheless the children felt loath to leave me. -To the onlookers I could have said, with George -Herbert—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Rain, do not hurt my flowers, but gently -spend<br /> -Your lovely drops. Press not to smell them here;<br /> -When they are ripe their odour will ascend,<br /> -And at your lodging with their thanks appear.”</p> -<p style="text-align: right">“<i>Fuller -Worthies</i>.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>With many caresses, thanks, and good wishes from the children, -I groped my way to my lodging with thankfulness, but in a -wretched plight, suffering from my lifelong -enemy—giddiness. After five minutes’ chat with -my round-faced host I mounted, with a hot head, and cold wet -feet, “wooden hills,” and amongst the blankets and -feathers I snoozed into a fitful sleep, to be startled by wild -dreams and nocturnal noises. In one of my strange flights I -found myself in a dark and dismal-looking place like a -chimney-sweep’s underground soot storehouse. How I -got there was a mystery I have never been able to solve. -The only things I remember in connection with my visit to this -dark abode was, the good spirit led me through alleys, by -colleges, churches, chapels, synagogues, and schools of every -grade. Marks of civilization were everywhere visible on my -path. There were ministers and teachers on every -hand. One little narrow backway led me to a small narrow -opening down some narrow, rugged steps. As soon as I -entered, a small door of the colour of the walls instantly closed -upon me as with a spring, and before I had time to look back at -the way by which I entered, I was in worse than a Roman or gipsy -maze. At first a cold, chilly sensation of fright and -terror crept over me. My hair seemed to rear bolt upright -in a twinkle; <a name="page136"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -136</span>but this soon passed away after realizing the fact that -I was among friends. There were no windows except one -dismal pane, through which the moonlight gleamed. There -were no candles. The grate was made up of bricks and rusty -crooked old bars of iron put loosely together without -mortar. The fender was of two long shin-bones, and the ends -of it two thigh-bones of a man. The fire was crackling with -sticks and the bones of rabbits, partridges, pheasants, and -fowls. Beetles, cockroaches, toads, and spiders were as -thick as they could creep and stick. A dead pig’s -skin badly cured, with the bristles sticking on it in patches, -was laid upon the broken stones on the floor as a -hearth-rug. In a large pot over the fire there were boiling -large pieces of diseased pork in a thickish liquid, which was -stirred every few minutes by an old “hag” with a -ham-bone. The uneven, broken walls of the room were covered -with greasy grime and filth, upon which were hung pictures of -skeletons, death, coffins, and cross-bones, and most horrible, -murderous-looking men and women.</p> -<p>In the centre of this large, deathly room there was a kind of -long, low, tumble-down table propped up with bricks, old -tressels, and stones. The top was sickly, dirty, loose, and -uneven. Round the room there were scores of men, women, and -children, blackened with dirt, grease, and grime, who had never -been washed since they were ushered into the world, sitting and -squatting upon the floor. Their language was that of -thieving, robbing, cheating, lying, &c.; and their spare -time—at least some of them—while the cooking was -going on, was passed with the devil’s cards. For a -few minutes all was as silent as death, and then the old -“hag” placed upon the table the pot which had been -hanging over the fire, after which she handed to each of us in -the room an old broken mug, and told us to help ourselves to what -was in the pot. At this <a name="page137"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 137</span>a general rush took place; swearing -and fighting was about to begin in earnest, with the probability -of it ending in murder without the outside world knowing of -it. I was about to begin my sickening share when I said to -the lot of them, “Now, chaps, women, and children, in my -country it is usual for us to say ‘grace’ before meat -and thanks after it on occasions like this, and, if you -don’t mind, I’ll follow out the practice -now.” Several of the poor little lost creatures cried -out, “That’s capital! if it’s anything nice we -shall like it. We’ve not had anything we like for a -long time.” I told them to be quiet, and then -proceeded with, “Be pleased, O Lord, to grant -us—” “Stop! stop!” cried out the -old “hag.” “What did you say? -‘O Lord?’ What do you mean? What is it? -who is it? and where does He come from? We’ve never -heard the name before.” I said, “Let me finish, -and then I will tell you afterwards.” I began again -to say grace, and proceeded as follows: “Be pleased, O -Lord, to grant us Thy blessing with this food, for -Jesus—” They now all jumped upon their feet, -and an old, grey-headed man, the picture of a Cabul murderer, -with Satan in his face and the devil in his eyes, along with the -wretched, ragged, lost, and emaciated little creatures, cried -out, “Who is Jesus? We have never heard of Him -before. Does He live in a big house? and has He plenty of -rabbits, hares, game, and fowls in His plantations? because we -should like to know.” I told them, in a way that -excited their curiosity, as to who God was, and also as to who -Jesus was. They set to their midnight supper like a lot of -pigs. I took a little, but was far from enjoying it. -When they had finished their supper they put their mugs upon the -floor, and the bones they gave to a number of bony, -hungry-looking dogs, a kind of cross between bulldogs, -bloodhounds, and greyhounds, which were ready for any kind of -work between the death of a keeper and a young <a -name="page138"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -138</span>rabbit. They reminded me very much of the big, -hungry wretch of a dog in Landseer’s “Jack in -Office”—</p> -<blockquote><p>“His lean dog scanned him by the -three-legged stool.”</p> -<p style="text-align: right"><i>Harris</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p>The conversation after supper took place in a language which -they thought I could not understand, as to what was to be done on -the morrow. I was mute now for a time. The children -were to look after and bring home all the eggs, chickens, and -fowls they could lay their hands upon. The men were to -bring in larger game; and the women were to hunt up the servant -girls. Each one had their work allotted them. As a -kind of relief, and in broken English, in which they thought I -would gladly join them, a number of the elder ones related how -many times they had been “nabbed” and sent to -“quod.” Some of them related that they had been -in the “stone jug” three, four, five, six, seven, -eight, nine, ten, and up to a score times; yea, even with glee -some of the children gave me an account of the things they had -stolen as they had passed from door to door on their thieving -rambles. Now was the opportunity, I thought, during a lull -in the conversation, to change the subject, and began to relate -some of the beautiful things I had seen and lovely countries I -had passed through; the loving smiles, gentle looks, and kind -actions I had been brought in contact with; the many real, -good-hearted friends I had; the many lovely flowers, delightful -walks, and pleasant companions there were ready to join the -travellers travelling in my country; water was rippling, birds -were singing, sun was shining, and a land flowing with milk and -honey in view, with long life into the bargain. As I -recited these things to them they all—poor -things!—stared with open mouths as they had never stared -before. They now drew close to me. Although the odour -was anything but agreeable, I kept on relating to them the -blessings and advantages of my country, <a -name="page139"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 139</span>till they -one and all cried out, with bated breath, “How far is it to -your country, governor? Will it be the same for us if we -go?” I said, “Yes, my good friends, it will be -so for you and more. Will you go?” They now -cried out, “We will go; but we shall have to trust you to -get us out of this place.” “All right,” I -said; “I will try to find a way out of this miserable hole -somehow or other for you.”</p> -<p>I began to puzzle my brains as to how their deliverance was to -be accomplished. For some little time I pondered the matter -over, when it occurred to me that at the bottom end of the dismal -room I had noticed a place upon the wall which looked like a door -that had been plastered over in somebody’s time by pieces -of old rags and paper.</p> -<p>I drew near to it, and scanned it over more closely. -After feeling round the edges of it for a few minutes, one of the -oldest and most wretched-looking gipsies spoke out in hasty -tones, and with an amount of warmth that led me to hesitate for a -moment to hear what further he had to say. He stopped -short. So I said, “Well, Righteous Palmer, what is -there behind this opening if I should proceed to find -out?” “Oh, a lot, I’m told by those who -know. Our place is bad enough, as our old witch knows, and -you know, sir; but nothing like what there is behind that there -‘opening,’” pointing with his finger, -“and if I was you, my dear good gentleman, I would not stir -a peg to see any further. We should not like to see any -harm come to you. If it had been anybody else we should not -have minded a bit; we would as soon given him a chuck to Nick as -look at him, and been glad o’ the job, and ground his bones -to powder, and played at football with his skull.” I -said, “Well now, Palmer, if you do not mind, we will -see.”</p> -<p>“If you do,” said Palmer, “and get into any -trouble, or <a name="page140"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -140</span>into a place out of which you cannot get back, you must -not blame us.” “Will you do what you can to -help me?” I said. “Oh yes, we will do what we -can for you in any way.” “All right,” I -said. I now took out my pocket knife and began to cut and -pull some of the paper and old rags off what now was appearing to -be a door. The old witches, “hags,” and -grey-bearded, bloated, and thin, wretched-looking men, and -swarms, almost, of poor emaciated children, eagerly closed round -me to see what it would end in. The stinking fire was -stirred up to cause fresh light; and in the meantime I kept -cutting away, which was no light task, for there were many old -knots and rusty nails to be faced. Some of the poor -children cried out, “By Jove, it is a door! Wonder -where it leads to?” “All right,” I said, -“wait and we will see.” And I worked, tugged, -and toiled, sometimes in the midst of breathless silence, and at -others in a gipsy noise loud enough to drown my own voice and -noise of my tinkering. At last the door seemed to be pretty -loose. Nervousness and fear seemed to creep over me more -than ever as I neared the end. Questions kept popping up in -my mind, “Where will it lead to? If it did not lead -to an opening and daylight,” I said to myself more than -once, “I am a done man.” “Lord help -me,” I said, as I put my hand to the door to push it or -pull it one way or the other. At last I pulled it -open. There was the faintest light to be seen from -somewhere, but I could not tell where. All the gipsies came -nearer to me, and I said to one of the strongest of them, -“Hold my hand, for I do not know where it will lead -to. It will either be to my ruin or your -happiness.” “We will hold you,” cried one -and all; “you shan’t fall at any rate.” -“Thank the Lord for this,” I said, and with much -trembling I took the first step, not knowing whether it was to be -downhill or uphill. In putting my feet out I felt my toe go -against something hard. I kicked again <a -name="page141"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 141</span>and again, -and found it to be a stone step. I then put my foot upon -it. The gipsies were still at my coat tail. I then -put both feet upon it, and felt at the walls, which seemed to -widen out. A little more light was manifest, but still I -could not tell where it came from. I kept groping and -feeling my way step after step. More light of a yellowish -tint, not of the cold moonlight hues, was now becoming more -visible. The gipsies, especially the children, began to get -eager to see the end of it. First one and then another of -them said more than once, “The light seems nice; I wonder -where it comes from?” The old gipsies were, with this -light, made to look most horrible, and slunk back, but the -children stuck to me. A great wide passage was now -manifest; and altogether an uphill work was becoming more -pleasant and cheerful. The gipsy children seemed to be -round me by hundreds, and for the life of me I could not tell -where they came from. A more miserable lot could not be -imagined. Some of the children cried out, “Governor, -it seems a long way to the top; how far is it?” -Another twenty steps brought us to the top in full face to the -rising sun; singing birds filling the air with their chanting; -lovely flowers and beautiful mansions, blossoming trees rich with -bud, blossom, and fragrance; groves, parks, and long walks -without end. The deer were bounding, cattle grazing, and -the big lambs were calling out for their mothers. In the -long winding distance, at the top of a hill, stood a golden city, -whose mansions and palaces were built of large blocks of precious -stones, with an arch spanning over the whole composed of a -succession of rainbows, with rays of glory indescribable, -anxiously forcing their way to add lustre to the scene through -the occasional openings to be seen in the illuminated arch. -My heart was so overjoyed at having arrived at the top, and -seeing vast crowds of little gipsy children brought out of -darkness, I began to sing out lustily, with tears in my -eyes—</p> -<blockquote><p><a name="page142"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -142</span>“There’s a land that is fairer than day,<br -/> - And by faith we can see it afar.<br /> -For the Father waits over the way,<br /> - To prepare us a dwelling-place there.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>Ami as if by magic, the children sang touchingly the chorus, -in which I joined—</p> -<blockquote><p> “In the sweet by and -by,<br /> -We shall meet on that beautiful shore;<br /> - In the sweet by and by,<br /> -We shall meet on that beautiful shore.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>The singing of this tune woke me up, and for the life of me I -could not tell where I was, or whether I was in the body or out -of it. This matter was soon settled by the -“boots” knocking at my door, telling me that it was a -quarter-past five o’clock. I partook of a hasty -breakfast, and by six o’clock, with the musical bells -chiming round me, I was among the gipsies in the fair, some of -whom were settling down to their quarters, others were grumbling, -and in not a few instances rows were brewing, owing to the space -allotted to them not being up to their anticipation. On my -way from my lodging to the town I passed a number of most -wretched spectacles drawn by donkeys and ponies, fit for the -knacker’s yard.</p> -<p>Upon a tumble-down donkey-cart covered over with sticks and -old sheeting, drawn by a donkey dressed in harness not worth -sixpence, which was tied together with string and pieces of rope, -there were women and six poor half-dressed, half-starved, dirty, -ragged children. The sight was most pitiable. The -little dirty faces, with matted hair, peering through an opening -in the rotten calico canvas, reminded me of a nest of young -rabbits, rather than human beings with immortal souls, endowed -with reason, thought, and intellect, and in the image of God, -peeping out of their hole among the dead grass. Oh! what a -contrast, I thought, to the architectural grandeur and beauty of -the <a name="page143"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -143</span>mansions on either hand as they passed through the -streets. Why and wherefore is the cause? But I must -not stop now to inquire. This problem I must work out later -on.</p> -<p>The toll clerk with an amount of tact managed to squeeze the -two hundred and twenty vans and shows into the square, keeping -fairly the worst kinds in the background, and the best-looking -with their faces towards “Lunnun.” “I -have,” said the clerk, “much to do to get them all -placed. After I have done all I can, I cannot keep them -from rows and quarrels. Sometimes it is worse than what you -see now. There are many more vans than there are in the -fair this morning.” I said to him, “How many do -you think there are here this morning?” “Well, -sir, there are considerably over two hundred. I counted -early yesterday afternoon in one string between here and Somers -Town, a hundred and seventy-two vans, and others have been coming -since.” At this juncture he spied a gipsy with his -van and establishment taking up their abode in the churchyard -under the tall trees. He said, “I must be off to stop -them.” I followed him to see how the bronzed old -gipsy would take to his veto. Fortunately he took to the -dismissal with good grace, and more than once said, “Thank -you, my good gentleman.” This is one of the -characteristics of the old romantic gipsies, when they want -anything by favour; seeing that it is not in their power to get -it either by craft or bounce, they can ask with much grace, and -in this way they often succeed. After the toll clerk was -gone I had a chat with the gipsy—who, to his credit, had -good cattle between the shafts of his vans. He said that he -had at home—but did not say where his home was—eleven -grey horses, out of his stock of thirteen. I took his -statement with a pinch of salt, and moved off, leaving him to -mumble over a joke I left behind, while he changed his -quarters.</p> -<p>Not far from this scene there stood at a van door a tall, <a -name="page144"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 144</span>bony, -dirty-looking man, in an almost nude state, and a lot of dirty, -ragged children, and the “old woman” washing, hard -and fast, some dirty linen in a tin bucket. It struck me -that in this case, as with others, dispatch was the soul of -business, and I loitered about to see what “shifts” -this gipsy family would adopt. Scrub, rub, and a dash into -the hot water went the dirty linen. After two or three good -rubs and tussels with the linen in the bucket, she pulled it out -and wrung it as if she was “screwing its neck -off.” When this was over she gave it a good shake, -and handed it to her “old man” without drying. -The “old man” retired for a few minutes, and then he -appeared with a dirty white shirt on his back, sticking more -closely to his body than would have been agreeable to most -people. Fortunately the warm sun was shining, and by -exposing it to the sun’s rays during his pacing backwards -and forwards in the square for an hour, he presented a better -spectacle. At night upon the stage, with his painted face -and coloured pantaloons, his grimy, smoke-coloured shirt passed -off fairly well. I could see that the poor children, who -stood round the door with matted hair, were to have the same -measure dealt out to them that was dealt out to the “old -man.” I am not at all surprised to find that diseases -of various kinds should be creeping among our present-day -gipsies, the bulk of whom wash and dry their linen on their limbs -and bodies as above. Among the old gipsies rheumatic -diseases were not known, but it is not so now; and it cannot be -wondered at when we take into account that men, women, and -children cause their bodies to do in wet weather what the -“clothes horse” should do, and in fine weather what -the “clothes line” should do. Such is -“gipsy life” in this nineteenth century, in this our -enlightened England.</p> -<p>One of the horses belonging to one of the gipsy vans had had -nearly enough of it; and for the life of him the gipsy <a -name="page145"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 145</span>could not -get the poor old horse to stir a peg, except to kick, and this it -could do as well, if not better, than a -“four-year-old.” I expected every minute to see -the van over on its side, and the woman and children sprawling in -the road. Fortunately, a few fellow-gipsy brothers put -their shoulders to the wheel, and wheeled it off to right -quarters.</p> -<p>In other vans “rock” and “toffy” -making was going on with vengeance. I’ll take one -case to show the kind of process carried out, and what -town’s children and others have to swallow during feasts, -mops, and fair time.</p> -<p>Surrounded by several vans and carts there was a fire in an -old bucket, round which stood men, women, and a lot of poor -little gipsy roadside Arabs. Presently into the pot over -the fire—a large old kettle—a gipsy woman puts a lot -of the commonest dirty-looking sugar, and some butter, or -“butterine,” and when it has begun to boil, one of -the children stirs it with a dirty stick for a time. After -the boiling process is over, it is taken out and handed to the -man or woman, as the case may be, to be “pulled” or -twisted into the long walking-stick shape you see on some of the -low, dirty gingerbread stalls attending fairs. A -light-coloured “rock,” or “toffy,” is -made by adding lighter-coloured sugar and flour.</p> -<p>The light-coloured “rock” and the dark-coloured -“rock” are then mixed and twisted together, forming -what is called the “scrodled rock.” The mixing -process gives the hands of the mixers a clean appearance inside, -contrasting strongly with the back of the hands, which at times, -with this class of folks, resemble very much in colour the backs -of tortoises or toads. George Herbert, in the “Fuller -Worthies” Library, might almost have seen and tasted some -such like, when he wrote—</p> -<blockquote><p style="text-align: center">“A sweetmeat of -hell’s table, not of earth.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>A few yards from this manufacturing process there were <a -name="page146"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 146</span>man, woman, -and two little children “as clean as pinks,” and a -boy, who was scrubbing himself, head and shoulders, down to the -waist, till he was “all of a white lather.” -This case, and the few others I saw of a similar nature, were the -“new comers on the road.” I expect to hear of -their rising as a cow’s tail grows.</p> -<p>A laughable incident occurred while I was standing by watching -the boy scrub at his head as if he meant to fetch the hair up by -“the roots.” From beneath one of the vans a big -black dog sallied forth down the fair with a piece of white paper -in its mouth, carefully wrapped up, and much resembling a parcel -of sandwiches. No sooner was the dog in the fair than some -of the gipsies were after it, crying out, “Stop it! -Stop it!” At first the dog would not listen; -ultimately it stopped. The gipsies came up to the -frightened animal. Everybody expected the dog had run away -with something valuable in the shape of eatables, if nothing -else. One big gipsy cried out to the dog, “Down with -it! Down with it!” The dog did as it was -told. This was no sooner done than the gipsy picked up the -paper, and began to carefully unwrap it, when, to the horror of -the gipsy and a few others who had taken part in the chase, and -roars of laughter of onlookers, it turned out to be a paper -containing a few bloaters’ heads and other unpalatable -trifles. The parcel was dropped much quicker than it was -picked up. Another laugh burst forth. The huntsmen -pinched their noses and slunk away. One said, “I -thought he had got somebody’s grub.”</p> -<p>I now came upon Mr. Bachelor Nabob Brown, a chimney-sweeping -gipsy—and a most curious stick he was—in charge of a -weighing machine and a few other trifles. He was just -turning out of his bed, which had been in his cart, covered with -a yellow sheet. Nine o’clock was the time he had -promised overnight to be ready for a stroll. He got up, -gave himself a rub, yawn, and a stretch, and <a -name="page147"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 147</span>set to work -lighting his fire in the usual gipsying drawing-room fireplace -among the other gipsies. Of course washing was out of the -question. He boiled his water, stewed his tea, frizzled his -bloater, and then set to work upon his breakfast with a strong -smell of paraffin oil pervading the whole of the contents of his -“larder.” Nabob Brown combed his hair with his -fingers, threw on his patched and ragged old pilot Chesterfield, -and off we started for a tramp to the outskirts of Oxford. -We had not gone far before he began to apologize for not being -dressed as a gentleman, and said, “You don’t mind, -sir, do you, at me walking along with you in this cut and -figure?” I said, “Oh no, I do not mind in the -least. Very few know me personally in Oxford, but it would -make no difference to me if they did. If it would help on -the cause of the gipsy children, I would as soon have my dinner -with a gipsy as with a prince.” “All right, my -friend,” said Mr. Nabob Brown; “I’m glad to -hear you say that. I know who I am talking to.” -In going along I said to Nabob, “I should like to know a -little about your family.” “All right,” -he said; “that’s just what I wanted. Let me -tell you, sir, that the ‘Browns’ are amongst the best -families in the land. In our family are dukes, lords, -M.P.’s, and squires without end, and never a one has done -anything wrong. They are all high-class and first-rate -folks. In everything that is good a ‘Brown’ -starts it. I feel proud that my name is -‘Brown.’” I said, “I thought Smith -was not a bad name.” “They are nothing like the -‘Browns,’” said Nabob. “Smiths -stand second, Browns stand first. I shall come in for a -fortune one of these days before long, and I shall not forget -you. Will you give me your address?” I said, -“Yes, with pleasure; I shall be glad to have the prospect -of a fortune again for my children’s sake.” -“All right, give me your card.” I handed him my -card, and the poor “cracked” fellow wrapped it up and -put it into his pocket.</p> -<p><a name="page148"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 148</span>Mr. -Nabob Brown stopped, rubbed and scratched in the street, and -commenced again as follows:</p> -<p>“I am one of fifteen children, and the only one living, -thank God. My father was George Brown, who served -thirty-five years in the Fifty-second Light Infantry. He -was present at the battles of Waterloo, Salamanca, and Badajoz; -after which he was pensioned off. He spent three years in -Chelsea Hospital, and was then taken to the soldiers’ -madhouse at Norwich, and there he died. People say that I -am getting like him, but they are fools and don’t know what -they are talking about. I’m as sensible as any man in -the country—don’t you think so?” I told -him I did “not like answering questions of that kind -without longer experience.” “My father was of a -drunken family, and it was in one of his drunken fits when he -tumbled me downstairs and put out one of the joints of my -backbone.” We now came to a dead stand opposite one -of the colleges and near to some large houses. People big -and little, gentle and simple, were passing to and fro. He -now turned his back towards me and bent his bead low to the -wall. He then turned up the tail ends of his old coat, -exhibiting his under ragged garments, and took hold of my hand -and poked my finger into a small dent in the slight bend upon his -back. Of course I consented. He next took off his old -hat and poked my finger into a hole upon his head. All the -time his tongue was going at the rate of “nineteen to the -dozen.” Mr. Nabob’s arms began to swing -backwards and forwards, and he shouted out, “I live by -excitement; without it I should die.” Children began -to stare and gather round us, but before doing so I said, -“I suppose you cannot stand drink?” “Oh -dear no! I have been teetotal these twenty-five years, on and -off, and am religions in my heart, but I doesn’t always -show it. I goes to church sometimes. I’m a -Church of England man; but then you know, sir, we in our -profession cannot do without <a name="page149"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 149</span>telling lies sometimes. -I’m giving up all bad things, women and everything -else. If it was not for being religious at my heart I -should have been dead long ago.” He now began to -“dance and caper about the road.” Fortunately -we were close to the grounds round Christ Church College, and -very few saw his megrims.</p> -<p>We had now arrived opposite a small conservatory with some -beautiful flowers in view. The pretty flowers sent Mr. -Bachelor Nabob Brown off at a tangent. “Oh!” -said Mr. Brown, “I love flowers. It is delightful to -be among flowers. I could die among flowers. -I’m a first-rate gardener.” The names he gave -to some of the commoner sorts of flowers he saw were anything but -Latin or English. The small rivulet, green meadows, tall -trees, pleasant walks, with the burning sun shining overhead, -seemed to have excited Mr. Nabob’s dormant artistic -qualities, and he commenced to give me specimens of his musical -abilities. After he had done he said, “I never had -any regular training, or I should have been one of the -‘stars;’ as it is I can play the fiddle, concertina, -piano—in fact, I should not be stuck fast at -anything. I consider myself to be a regular musician, and -no mistake. Oh, my back and my head, sir. Let us sit -down for a chat under one of these trees.” “All -right,” I said, “I am quite ready.” -Several gentlemen and ladies paced backwards and forwards, no -doubt wondering who we were or what our movements meant. -Maybe, for aught I know, that some of them thought that we had -dynamite designs upon Christ Church College; or that we were -“two poor wandering lunatics.” Mr. Nabob Brown -next poured forth his other qualifications—adaptability and -practice in photography, jewelling, shop-keeping, selling -tobacco, sweets, and fruits. His recital of these things -brought him upon his feet again; and he shouted out with his arm -aloft, “Would you believe me, sir? I lost over a -hundred pounds in ‘dissolving views.’” I -told <a name="page150"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 150</span>him -jokingly that I was not surprised at it. “There were -so many wicked men in the world who have not brains and force of -character sufficient to carry them through the difficulties of -life, and therefore their only course was to get upon -somebody’s back and allow themselves to be carried to a -safe place. I have seen many men of this class in my -time.” “Right you are, sir. That is just -how I have been served through life. I have not only had my -brains run away with, but my coat off my back; aye, and one time -a big black dog ran away with a piece of my leg. Oh! -oh!” shouted Brown, with a twinged face, “gipsies are -terrible devils. We are a bad lot, but I don’t like -to tell everybody, nor do I like to say all I know, or they would -be down upon me at the next fair, and I should have no peace in -my life; I might as well be hung. Give it the policemen; I -don’t like them chaps, they are no good to anybody. -Blow me!” Nabob cried out as we came to a sudden stop on -the road, “I left my old umbrella in my cart when we -started, and I’ll bet a farthing it will be gone when we -get back; let’s be off.” So we began to trot -off together, leaving the austere, grim walls of Christ’s -College to stand the rude and rugged storms of centuries from -without, and the assaults of dogmas, creeds, divinity, law, -philosophy, moral force, and logic from within. On our way -he told me of the tricks practised by the stall-keeping gamblers -upon their wheels of fortune, and the hoodwinking process the -policemen undergo at fair times.</p> -<p>We had now arrived at the post office, and Brown said, -“Just one word before we part,” and I chimed in, -“Perhaps never to see each other again.” -“I say, sir, I quite agree with you that all our travelling -children should receive a free education as you propose, and the -publicans should be made to pay for it. Good-bye, sir, and -God bless you,” and away he popped out of sight into the -post office, and I sauntered into the fair.</p> -<p><a name="page151"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 151</span>In -charge of a gambling cocoa-nut concern I noticed a gipsy named -I—, with his hand tied up, which he said was brought about -by blood-poisoning. In the van were two brothers and one -sister. Connected with this family there were seventeen -brothers and sisters, together with father and mother, making a -total of nineteen human beings. And only one out of the -whole could read and write, and this one, to his everlasting -credit, had early in life given up gipsying and put himself out -as an apprentice to engineering, and during his apprenticeship he -had, unaided by any teacher except his workmates, taught himself -to read and write. All honour to such men, be they gipsies, -canal boatmen, or brickmakers. As I noticed his good -brother, who had run over to the fair for a day to assist his -lame brother and their sister, I could not help seeing the vast -contrast between the two men. Self-help and education had -raised one from a gipsy tramp to the position of an engineer at a -salary of thirty-five shillings per week, with his nights to -himself.</p> -<p>I next turned again to my friend George Smith, the gipsy, who, -with his wife and six children, were attending to their cocoa-nut -concern. George Smith was just having his lunch, to which -he invited me. Of course I joined him, notwithstanding the -crush of the fair. Smith did not know of more than one -gipsy among all their relations who could read and write.</p> -<p>Early in the morning I paid a visit to one of the vans, and -there saw a woman and her six little girls, and one little boy -about three years old, in a most wretched, dirty condition. -They were thin, and some of their young faces looked prematurely -old. She knew me, and the poor slave of a mother seemed -ashamed of their condition. I gave them a lot of pictures, -cards, &c., and left them to make their way. It was -heartrending to see the poor pretty children scan the pictures, -anxious to know what they were about, <a name="page152"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 152</span>but unable to tell a letter. -Despair seemed to come over their faces, as they turned them over -and over and from side to side. Later on in the afternoon I -again paid a visit to them. Of course in the morning I was -behind the scenes; but in the afternoon more phases appeared; -they were in “public.” In the van was -wretchedness and misery, and all the other evils attending such a -course of life; but on the “boards” they were -fairies, dressed in lively pretty colours, dancing, skipping, and -riding about, not from love, but from pressure and force. -You could see as the six pretty children danced about that their -smiles were forced. I saw them about six months since, and -I now noticed a marked haggard change in their features. -The husband had the “light end of the stick.” -He fared well, and did well, and worked but little. I could -hear the chaps round me say of the mother, as she moved to and -fro upon the platform, or outdoor stage, and whose fanciful -dresses were none too long, that it was her “legs” -that drew the crowds round their establishment. Others said -she was “well limbed.” She certainly was more -presentable in the evening than in the morning. In my -opinion it was the little girls who were the mainstay of the -concern.</p> -<p>I could not help noticing the vast number of clergymen moving -about. The prettily dressed, and not bad-looking woman had -charms for some of them—old and young. She had a good -head of black hair, as most gipsies have. Probably her -witching eyes and tresses tickled the fancies of the clerical -onlookers. One grave-looking clergyman walked up the fair -very sedately, not seeming to notice such nonsense, but I could -see him glancing out of the corner of his eye at the woman and -her children as they danced about. It may be that he was -there for the same purpose as I was, viz., to see both sides of -gipsying, the evil and the good. If such was the case, I am -sure that he found it like the Irishman found his wife, nearly -“all bad and no good.”</p> -<p><a name="page153"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 153</span>In -the fair, and with smiling looks, pleasant tongue, and busy hand, -was Mr. Wheelhouse, the Oxford city missionary, trying to sell -his heavenly books. A few came and looked, and turned away, -notwithstanding the low prices at which he offered his -soul-saving wares. Trash! bosh! Dash and a splash -into the Oxford English gipsying was what the crowd wanted, and -some of them had it to their heart’s content, with shadows -of the morrow’s sorrows hanging over them as they dived -deep into sin. Occasionally the missionary would have a -customer, which caused him to smile like a full-blown rose.</p> -<p>The good old man, as he gave me a parting grip, said, -“God bless you in your noble work. I’ve long -wanted to see you. God bless you, good-bye,” and he -gave me an extra squeeze, and I then jostled into the crowd.</p> -<p>I noticed three or four of the most respectable gipsy-looking -men soliciting subscriptions. It could not be for taxes, I -thought, for gipsies never pay taxes—at least those who do -not hawk and don’t live in houses. I inquired what -their loss was, and I was told that a young woman, one of the -mainstays of one of the establishments in the fair, had been -burnt to death the previous week in one of the vans. The -organ, van, and contents had gone to the winds, and the poor -woman’s charred black remains consigned to the cold, cold -sod, and tears and black crape left to tell the tale. How -she came to her untimely end was not fairly cleared up at the -inquest. When the great book is opened it will be made -clear. I gave them some silver, and when they asked in what -name it was to be entered, of course I told them, and they opened -their eyes with wondrous curiosity and amazement. I shook -hands with them, and for some minutes I was lost in the -crowd. I suppose they had been told by wicked outsiders -that I had nothing but hard words for the gipsies and -travellers.</p> -<p>A big, idle, hulking-looking fellow of a gipsy now <a -name="page154"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -154</span>“boned” me. He wanted me to lend him -a shilling—as he said—for his wife and -children. I tackled him. I asked him what he was -doing in the fair. He said he was a collier out of -work. I asked him to let me look at his hands. After -shuffling about a little he let me look at his hands. I -could see plainly that he was not a collier. I said, -“You have not had a ‘coal-pick’ in your hands -to work with it in your life.” At this he seemed to -get into a rage. I said, “The marks you show me have -been done upon the ‘wheel of fortune’ in the -‘stone jug.’” This he did not deny. -When I asked him about the prices colliers have per ton for -getting coal he was nonplussed. I said, “Now, before -I give you anything, I want to see your wife and four -children,” and away we started to find them, on their way -to Banbury. I turned back; but still the fellow was boring -me to lend him a shilling, and he vowed and vowed that he would -repay me the amount. At this juncture he bolted into a -stationer’s shop for a piece of paper, upon which he wanted -me to write my address, so that he might send me the shilling -back. I followed him into the shop, and quite a scene -ensued. The gipsy tramp could neither beg a piece nor buy -it. At last, after ten minutes’ wrangling over a -piece of paper, the shopman gave him an old envelope, and we came -out of the shop. Nothing would serve his purpose but that I -was to write my address. So to please, and to get rid of -the ignorant, idle, dirty scamp, I wrote upon the recently begged -old envelope, “Jupiter Terrace, Moonlight Street, -Starland.” The fellow wrapped it up very carefully, -and put it into his pocket, and I then gave him sixpence and left -him, telling him that he was to send the amount in postage -stamps, as I could not get post-office orders cashed at the -address I had given him. I expect the sixpence and the -gipsy tramp are on the wing still.</p> -<p>In the fair there were over fifteen gambling -tables—<i>i.e.</i> <a name="page155"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 155</span>tables upon which there were all -kinds of gipsy nick-nacks and fairy trifles, some of which were -sold and others gambled for. On the table there was a large -painted wheel, something like a clock-face or compass, with a -swinging finger or hand. Round the outer edge of the wheel -stood a lot of things, chiefly ornamental children’s toys -in fern cases, fancy boxes, and other ornaments. Those who -wanted to “try their luck” had to put down a penny -opposite the thing they fancied. When several had done -this, and the pennies were studded about the wheel, then swing -went the finger round and round till it stopped—seldom -where the pennies were. The finger seemed to either just go -past the mark or to stop short of it. All blanks and no -prizes seemed to be the order of the day. I saw one lady -dressed in silk, with a lot of young women, girls, and boys round -her, gamble several shillings away on the “wheel of -fortune.” It was a most pitiable sight to see the -vast numbers of well-dressed young persons and children receiving -their first lessons in gambling, in the shadows of churches and -colleges. I was told, by those who knew, that the -“wheels of fortune” and “shows” made more -money than all the other things in the fair put together. -It was a sunny fair for the gambling stall-keepers, but not for -the patron saint under whose auspices it was held. I rather -fancy the saints of bygone days, to whom the colleges and -churches were dedicated, would look down upon the assembly with -abashed countenances at the work of sin going on under the shadow -of the Oxford sacred precincts, and, it would seem, had retired -in favour of Discordia, Momus, Mars, et Pluto. The big and -little gamblers could win when the proprietors thought well to -allow the smiles of fortune to descend upon them. -Fortune’s smiles consisted in the pressing of the -stall-keeper’s thigh against a stud, that operated -underneath the top of the table against the swivel upon which the -finger <a name="page156"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -156</span>or hand was placed, and he could stop it whenever he -liked. After many blanks he would let one of his fools -occasionally win, just to encourage others.</p> -<p>I was put up to this move by one of the gipsies, but with -strict injunctions that I was not to let the -“cat”—<i>i.e.</i>, my -informant—“out of the bag.” When I told -my friend the gipsy that gambling of this kind was against the -law, “Yes,” he said, “and the -‘bobbies’ are down upon us in some places for it; and -they would no doubt have been so here, but they have been -‘squared.’” When he talked about -“squaring,” I thought I would “try” him -and “prove” him, but found him to be blank. I -found out that this “squaring” process consisted in -blinding the policemen with “silver-dust.” The -fact is this kind of gambling is growing to an alarming extent in -the country under the policemen’s noses, and this they know -right well, and take no steps to stop it. Of course the -Oxford police as a body of men could not be held accountable for -the dereliction of duty by a few of them. As a whole they -are a fine lot of village soldiers.</p> -<p>I next turned my step towards one of the shows. There -was upon the platform, or stage, a sharp little fiery woman -beating the drum—which sounded like a kitchen -table—and bawling out till she was hoarse, “Now, -ladies and gentlemen, if you want to see the best show in the -fair, now is your time; they are just going to begin. Come -up quick, and take your places,” and she banged again at -the old drum as if she was going to knock the bottom out. -Beside the sharp, ready-tongued woman stood “Boscoe,” -dressed, daubed, and painted like a Red Indian, whose rough -visage and broken nose had the appearance of having been in many -a “fisticuffing” encounter. Although he was -daubed over, I recognized him as one with whom I had had a long -chat on Sunday afternoon, and who pleasantly received some of my -books for his children. Boscoe noticed <a -name="page157"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 157</span>me in the -crowd, and gave me a few of his sly winks while the megrims were -going on. Close to “Boscoe” stood a tall, -wretched, half-starved, red-faced looking man, the picture of a -beer-barrel in his face, with red-herring tendencies from the -shoulders downwards. On the ground there were his wretched, -lantern-jawed wife and their six ragged children. Their -home was a donkey cart covered over with rags, and a bed of rags -was what those eight human beings had to lie upon, and I could -have said with Burns—</p> -<blockquote><p style="text-align: center">“Oh, drooping -wretch, oppressed with misery!”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>and as she stood cowering and trembling I could have said with -Crashaw, “Oh, woman!—</p> -<blockquote><p>“‘Upwards thou dost weep;<br /> -Heaven’s bosom drinks the gentle stream.’”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>I should like to have whispered in her ear, “Weep on, -poor woman, weep on. Weep on, poor children, weep on. -Your tears will bring down the mighty arm of the Great Living -Father, which shall deliver you from this wretched tramping life -of misery and degradation. Look up! look up! His hand -draweth nigh. The Friend of the children hears the -children’s cries, and woe be to the nation or people who -step in to prevent the gipsy children receiving the embraces of a -loving heavenly Father.”</p> -<p>After the performance “Boscoe” came off the stage -and invited me to go into the “show,” which -invitation I accepted, and was led in by the side door. I -witnessed “Boscoe’s” tricks, such as eating -fire, making leaden bullets, putting a red-hot poker down his -throat, and drawing a red-hot bar across his tongue, and the -bending of red-hot iron bars with his feet. “There -are dodges in every trade, except rag-gathering,” said the -old rag-woman the other day, as she sat by the side of the brook, -wetting <a name="page158"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -158</span>her rags before she sold them. The acrobat -performances of a poor boy about twelve were cruel in the -extreme. After one of his movements I could see that the -poor thin-faced lad was suffering intense pain by his twinging -and limpy walk. This poor specimen of humanity could not -read or write a sentence. To bend, twist, twirl, and -contort the limbs and bones of a poor child to bring smiles upon -the faces of fools—for they are no better who witness such -exhibitions—is hellish, and money gotten in this way -provides those engaged in it with “workhouse” and -“spittles” uniform. Other performances, such as -a pony telling fortunes, &c., brought the entertainment to a -close. On coming away old “Boscoe” came off the -stage to shake hands with me among the crowd, which circumstance -seemed to puzzle some of the bystanders.</p> -<p>I had a turn round with the gingerbread and toy stall-keepers, -and I was not long among them before I found out two old -“backsliders,” one of whom was from Northampton, and -until two years ago was a “member of a class.” -Now, with her son, she was tramping the country, and attending -fairs and races in the daytime, and sleeping under their stall at -night! A chat with her about old times, and the -“blessed seasons” she once had, and the peace of mind -she once enjoyed, brought scalding tears to her eyes, as -copiously as if I had been talking to her of the death of a -darling rosy-checked, curly-headed little boy, whose little wax -taper flickered out as its soul was being wafted to Paradise in -the midst of a convoy of angels. The good woman with -quivering lips said, “Do you remember giving me, sir, at -Long Buckby, a little book and a picture card?” I -said, “Yes.” “Well, I sent them to my -son, who is a soldier in South Africa, and they pleased him very -much.” I could see that I could press the subject a -little nearer home, and I said to her, “How do you get on -with this kind of life? How do you manage <a -name="page159"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 159</span>to say your -prayers at night?” “Well,” she said, -“this kind of life is not the right thing, and I am not -what I ought to be; but somehow or other I say my prayers at -night, and feel safer after it. I hope to give up -travelling and settle down again.” While moistened -sorrow was reddening her eyes, I said in substance if not in -words—</p> -<blockquote><p>“’Tis a star about to drop<br /> -From thine eye, its sphere;<br /> -The sun will stoop to take it up.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>With a deep, deep-drawn sigh she bade me good-night several -times over, and the curtain dropped.</p> -<p>I now came upon a man and woman sitting at a weighing -machine. (I might state that I was weighed at two different -weighing machines in the fair. Nabob Brown’s machine -put me down at eleven stone ten pounds, and F—’s -machine showed that I weighed twelve stone and eleven -pounds.) Both looked above the ordinary kind of -gipsies. The clean, good-looking woman was nursing a baby, -and trying the weight of “ladies and gentlemen,” and -the man was “ringing” his cheap fashionable sticks -off to those who would try “three throws a -penny.”</p> -<p>This couple, I soon found out, were Primitive Methodist -“backsliders.” Their names were F— -although they were known among the travellers as W—. -His father was one of the oldest local preachers in the Brinklow -district. He had worked hard in the cause of the Great -Master, and had succeeded in raising a “Band of -Hope,” two hundred members strong, in one of the London -districts; but in the fulness of his heart, and in what turned -out to be an evil moment for him, he admitted another -“brother” as a co-secretary, who, instead of helping -my friend the gipsy in the good work, supplanted him, and -“collared” the tea-cake, at which the committee -winked. This worked up the tender feelings of my gipsy <a -name="page160"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 160</span>friend to -such a pitch that he withdrew from the society he had raised, and -took the downhill turning, and in this course both he and his -wife are, at the time of writing this, gipsying the -country. Richard Crashaw says—</p> -<blockquote><p>“These are the knotty riddles<br /> - Whose dark doubts<br /> -Entangle his lost thoughts<br /> - Fast getting out.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>I asked my friend F— a few questions about the gipsies -he had been mixed up with. Among other questions was the -following. “Now, Mr. F—, how many gipsies and -travellers have you known, during your travels, to attend a place -of worship on Sundays?” “Well, sir,” said -Mr. F—, “you ask me a straightforward question and I -will give you a straightforward answer. I do not remember -ever having seen one.” I said, “This state of -things is truly awful.” “Yes,” he said; -“it is no more awful than true. I’m getting -tired of it, and I think I shall settle down this next -winter.”</p> -<p>A long conversation with them both brought out tears, downcast -looks, and sighs, which contrasted somewhat strangely with the -yelling “fools,” “clowns,” and simpletons -in the fair. I gave them and their children some books, -pictures, &c., and they in return gave me a walking stick as -a “keepsake,” which I shall preserve; and after -shaking hands several times over, I toddled off into the fair, to -wander among the vans with my “keepsake” stick in my -hand, gently tapping the gipsy children as they turned up their -smiling faces.</p> -<p>It was now about eleven o’clock, the buzz and din of -fools, wise men and simple, was getting gradually less. The -echo was getting fainter and fainter. The crowd was -thinning. Policemen seemed to be numerous; the gipsies dogs -were sneaking from under the vans, and prowling <a -name="page161"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 161</span>after bones -and thrown-out trifles. The swearing of drunken gipsies was -heard more distinctly than ever. The gipsy women—some -of whom had “had a little too much”—were loud -in their oaths and hard words. In many instances blows -threatened to be the outcome. Children were screaming, and -big sons and daughters were quarrelling.</p> -<p>Half-past eleven arrived, and the inmates of the two hundred -and twenty vans and shows, numbering about a thousand men, women, -and children, were bedding themselves down in their, in many -instances, wretched abodes. As I wandered among them at -midnight hour I felt a cold chill of horror creeping over me, and -nightly dewdrops of sorrow forcing their way down my face. -To witness the sight I saw was enough to cause the blood to -freeze in any man’s veins. One of the most hellish -sights upon earth is a dirty, drunken, swearing woman putting her -children to bed upon rags undressed and unwashed, and with a -flickering candle dying in the socket. Fathers and mothers, -sons and daughters all lying mixed together, numbering on an -average four, six, eight, ten, and twelve men, women, and -children, of all ages and sizes, in the space of a covered -waggon, is what ought never to be allowed in any civilized -country, much less Christian England, which spends millions in -trying to convert the Indian, civilize the savage, transform the -Chinaman, Christianize the African, and in preparing the world -for the millennium which is to follow the redeeming efforts of -Christ’s followers. Oh! haste happy day, when -John’s vision shall dawn upon us with all its never-ending -transcendent splendour, tenderness, and heavenly reality. <a -name="citation161"></a><a href="#footnote161" -class="citation">[161]</a></p> -<p><a name="page162"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -162</span>“And God shall wipe away all tears from their -eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor -crying, neither shall there be any more pain, for the former -things are passed away.”</p> -<p>Not half a dozen of this thousand human beings would be -offering up an evening prayer other than that of hell. The -backsliding woman from Northampton and her son had crept for the -night under their stall. Of course she had said her -prayers, as she had told me, according to her wont, by the side -of their stall, or may be after she had <a -name="page163"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 163</span>drawn their -tent covering round them for the night; at any rate I left them -to have one other peep at my friends the gipsies F— before -wending my way to my lodgings. On arriving at the van I saw -a flickering light in the windows. The top window was -nearly shut. The woman had had <i>a little too much</i>, -but not sufficient to drive her wild or out of her senses. -The husband had been “cross” with her. They had -finished their midnight meal. The poor little children were -almost “dead sleepy,” and for a minute or two all was -quiet, and then I heard the backsliding mother teaching the poor -sleepy children as they knelt down in the van to repeat,</p> -<blockquote><p>“Jesus, tender Shepherd, hear me,<br /> - Bless Thy little lamb to-night,<br /> -Through the darkness be Thou near me,<br /> - Keep me safe till morning light.</p> -<p><a name="page164"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -164</span>“Let my sins be all forgiven.<br /> - Bless the friends I love so well,<br /> -Take me when I die to heaven,<br /> - Happy there with Thee to dwell.<br /> - - -For Jesus Christ’s sake. Amen.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>They now fastened their van top door down and bade me -good-night. Their dog had snoozled under their home on -wheels. Fogs and chills were creeping round. The -policeman’s tramp was to be heard, and with death-like -silence reigning I crept between the cold sheets to toss and -tumble about till the bright morning sun appeared, to fasten upon -my heart the sights of the previous day at the Oxford St. -Giles’s fair, not to be removed till eternity dawns upon my -soul with heaven in full view. To, as Marianne Farningham -says in <i>The Christian World</i>—</p> -<blockquote><p>“A land where noises of the earth<br /> - For evermore shall cease,<br /> -Where the weary ones are resting<br /> - In the calm of perfect peace.”</p> -</blockquote> -<h2><a name="page165"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -165</span>Rambles Among the Gipsies at Hinckley Fair.</h2> -<p><span class="smcap">Hinckley</span> September fair has for -many long years been regarded as one of the greatest -“screw” fairs in England, and as a place where many -gipsies annually gather together to follow their usual and -profitable occupation of horse-dealing. At this fair they -buy all the good-looking “screws” they can put their -hands upon, and palm and physic them off, temporarily, as sound -horses. They both, as one told me, “make their -market” and “make hay while the sun shines” at -this fair. A thorough old “screw” knows as if -by instinct the scent of gipsy pantaloons; and by some means, -known only to a few, the horses find their way back into gipsy -hands again.</p> -<p>With these facts before me, I was prompted to pay the gipsies -a visit at their Eldorado. The morning was like a spring -morning. The sun shone cheerfully, lovely, and warmingly, -and was fast drying up the mud. On my way to the station -some slovenly waggoner had left some thorns in the way, which I -threw over the fence and passed on. I had not gone far -before I found, on a rising hill, a large piece of granite in the -centre of the road, which some idle and careless Johnny had left -behind him. I <a name="page166"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 166</span>rolled it out of the way and sped -along. On the top of the hill a coal higgler had left a -large lump of coal in the way—or it had jolted off while he -was asleep, or akin to it. This I deposited among the -thistles and nettles in the ditch, where it remained for some -weeks. While I was clearing these little troublesome and -somewhat dangerous things out of the way, the skylark was singing -cheeringly and sweetly overhead as of spring-time. My gipsy -friends would say that these were forebodings and -prognostications, ruled by the planets, which indicated joys and -troubles, pleasure or sorrows for the travellers, according to -the amount of silver and gold there was floating about within -their reach. How I was guided by the Creator and the -planets, and with what success I pursued my course, will be seen -before I have done rambling.</p> -<p>At the station a poor woman was in a difficulty. She had -promised to have tea with her long-absent daughter, at the -“feast” at four o’clock the same day; but, -unfortunately, the train would not take her to the -“feast.” Notwithstanding the remonstrances of -the porters, the good woman got into the train and said, “I -shall go,” and she sped her way, but not to the -“feast.”</p> -<p>A mother’s love sees no difficulties and fears no -dangers, and will draw more tears from the human fountain than -any other force on this side heaven.</p> -<p>At Nuneaton there was the usual long time to wait; after which -I duly arrived at the “screw fair.”</p> -<p>At the entrance there was gipsy — and his -wife—with their six lost little children, and the -probability of a seventh being soon added—setting up their -stall.</p> -<p>As I neared them, the poor woman met me and said, “I -don’t know what to do; I ought not to be here in this -market-place like this. I am liable to be down at any -minute, and I don’t know one in the place. I wish our -Jim had settled down last spring. It is a hard lot to be a -<a name="page167"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -167</span>gipsy’s wife,” and she began to cry. -“Nobody knows what I have had to put up with since I took -to travelling. Why, bless you, dear sir, it would make your -heart ache if I were to tell you a tenth part of what myself and -the children have gone through. Between Hilmorton and Ashby -St. Ledgers will never be forgotten by me. It was a cold -night, at the back end of the year; rain came down in -torrents. We had only an uncovered cart for all of us to -sleep in down one of the lanes. The children crouched under -the cart upon the ground like dogs. Our Jim, myself, and -three of the children slept, or lay down, in the body of the cart -with our dripping clothes on us. We drew an old torn -woollen rug over us, and did the best we could, shivering and -shaking till morning. The children cried, and were half -starved to death. I cannot tell you, if I went down upon my -knees, of a twentieth part of our sufferings and hardships on -that night, and hundreds of other nights besides. I had a -black eye, and was black and blue on many parts of my body. -Our Jim was very cruel at that time; but he has not been so bad -lately.” Her husband, Jim, is about three parts a -gipsy, or between a <i>posh</i> and a Romany chal. He has -six children by his first wife, living with their grandmother -near Epping Forest, who are left to gipsy and take care of -themselves. I don’t think that he would be a bad sort -of a man if it were not for “drink” and gipsy -companies. The only one who can read in this family is the -poor woman, and that is only very little. With tears in her -eyes she said, “I often read the little books you gave me, -to our Jim at bedtime, till he cries, sometimes like a -baby. My heart is at times ready to break when I see how -our children are being brought up.” Business was -beginning to look up with them, and I made myself scarce for a -time. Such sad, heartrending instances of gipsy neglect, -depravity, poverty, and wretchedness would be impossible <a -name="page168"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 168</span>if our -Government would carry out my plans for reclaiming them, and -Christians and philanthropists would do their duty towards -drawing them into the arms of the State and the fold of God.</p> -<p>I had not gone far before a terrible row was echoing in the -air from a stall lower down the market, between two gipsy women -and a “potato master.” The gipsy women said the -potato master had promised them three roasted potatoes for a -halfpenny, and he had only given them two. A fight, -hair-pulling, and bloodshed seemed to be in a fair way for being -the outcome of this trumpery dispute, and would have taken place -if the policeman had not put in an appearance. As it was -the fracas ended, for the present, in nothing worse than threats -of vengeance, oaths and curses being poured upon the head of the -potato seller without stint or measure.</p> -<p>I now turned into the horse fair, and had scarcely got many -yards before I found myself roughly jostled in the midst of a -gipsy row over a dog. The gipsy horse-dealer had a lurcher -dog with him, which was owned by a collier. The collier -said his dog had been stolen by some gipsies about two months -ago. High words, carrying mischief and blows, were flying -about thick and fast, and bade fair to end in bloodshed and the -pulling of the dog limb from limb. The dog preferred his -old master to the gipsy. This the gipsy saw, and at the -approach of the police the pair withdrew to a public-house to -“square” matters. In the end the collier came -out with his dog, which he said “had won more handicaps -than any dog in the county,” and off he started home, with -a smile instead of blood and bruises upon his face, and the dog -wagging its tail with delight at his heels, much to the chagrin -and discomfiture of the gipsy.</p> -<p>While I was among gipsy horse-dealers I made the best use of -my eyes for a little time, and one of the first <a -name="page169"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 169</span>dodges of -the gipsies was to hire a country Johnny to ride one of their -“screws” up and down the fair. Of course the -gipsies kept clear away, hoping thereby to draw the attention of -customers to the horse as one that a farmer had no further use -for. Johnny had very nearly sold the horse to a higgler, -but “at the last pinch” the question of reducing the -amount Johnny was to sell it for, by one pound, necessitated an -appeal to the gipsy owner, who was not far away. The -higgler saw the dodge of the gipsy and he withdrew his -offer. The gipsy’s blessing was given, but the -higgler did not mind it, and he went to seek other quarters for -horseflesh.</p> -<p>A little higher up the fair there stood a man with two horses, -who was evidently a small farmer in somewhat needy -circumstances. It might be, for anything I knew, that he -was wanting some money to pay for the cutting of his corn, which -was ripening very fast. The horses looked like two -thoroughly good sound horses, although aged. The price he -asked for the best-looking was £25, and £20 for the -other. The gipsies saw that this farmer was very anxious to -sell. A big, good-looking gipsy came up to him and said, -“What for the big horse? Now, then, speak the lowest -price you will take for it in a word.” The farmer -said, “£25.” “Nonsense,” said -the gipsy; “you must think everybody is either a fool or -asleep. I’ll give you a ‘fiver’ for it, -and it is dear at that price.” To one of his gipsy -mates he said, “Jack, jump across it and ride it up the -fair.” Jack jumped across the horse, and off they -started at a rattling pace, almost frightening people out of -their wits who were in the way. After going up and down a -few times several gipsies clustered round the horse when it and -its gipsy rider had cleared to outside the throng of the -fair. The group stood for a few minutes, and then the horse -was brought back and given up to the owner. The bargain was -not struck, and the <a name="page170"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 170</span>gipsies cleared away. In the -course of ten minutes the horse began to get very restless, kick, -and plunge about. Sometimes it seemed as if it wanted to -lie down. It would then begin to cringe and kick, much to -the danger of the lookers on. The owner said that a -horse-fly was on it somewhere. He stroked and tapped it, -but all to no purpose. Presently another gipsy came up, -evidently one of the gang, and said to the farmer, “Why, -governor, your horse has either got the ‘bellyache’ -or an inflammation; it will be dead in half an hour; what will -you take for it at all risks? Now, speak your lowest figure -at once.” The farmer said, very much -“chopfallen,” “A little time ago I asked -£25, but I suppose I must take less than that -now.” The gipsy saw his chance, and at once said, -“I will give you a ‘tenner,’ and not a farthing -more; say either ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ and -I’m off.” The horse was still kicking -about. The farmer, much dejected, said, “I suppose -you may as well have it.” The bargain was struck and -the kicking horse led away. In going up the fair a group of -gipsies clustered round it with evident glee. A few hours -afterwards I saw the horse led off quietly enough from Hinckley -fair at the heels of a gipsy. No doubt the horse had been -doctored by the gipsies in some way when they first took it in -hand and while it was surrounded by the first group.</p> -<p>In another instance a countryman bought a horse of a -“farmer-looking” gipsy and paid the money, when, just -before the horse was handed over to the purchaser, another gipsy -came upon the scene and claimed the horse as his own, and, -apparently, threatened vengeance and the gaol to be the doom of -the man who had sold the horse. The two gipsies now began -to pull each other about—without any bones being broken or -blood flowing—and to wrestle and struggle for the -possession of the horse. The country man had parted with -his money and he had not got the horse, nor any prospect of -it. Another gipsy came up and <a name="page171"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 171</span>suggested that the whole business -should be ended by the countryman having his money back except -ten shillings and the payment of “glasses -round.” To this arrangement the countryman assented, -and they turned into the public-house to carry out the -bargain. What sharp men and fools there are in the world, -to be sure, to be met with on gipsy fair ground!</p> -<p>As usual there were gipsy Smiths in the fair, and without much -difficulty I ran against one who was the proprietor of a popgun -establishment and two shillings’ worth of -“toffy” stuck round a wheel of fortune. I had a -long chat with him between the “cracks,” and elicited -the fact that he had twice tried gipsying in Ireland, but it -resulted each time in a drawn game. He only visited four -fairs. Irish soil and poverty are not suited for the -development of gipsying. The fact is, Irishmen are too wide -awake for the vagabond gipsies, and they are too much taken up -with the matter-of-fact everyday life to listen to idle lying, -misleading, romantic, wheedling tales designed to draw the money -out of their pockets. At one of the fairs in Ireland my -gipsy friend took four shillings, with a prospect of losing his -tent, bag and baggage. If he had been one of Arabi’s -Egyptian ragamuffin soldiers frightened from Tel-el-Kebir he -could not have decamped more quickly from the land of St. -Patrick. The pleasure fairs of England and the fashionable -squares of London, and the watering-places on the coasts are -places and palaces where gipsy <i>kings</i> and <i>queens</i> -thrive best.</p> -<p>They fatten and thrive fairly well in some places in -Scotland. One cannot but smile sometimes at the ease with -which some of them go through the world. If their -cleverness was turned into legitimate channels and honourable -business transactions, they would soon be a credit to themselves -and to us as a nation. It is a thousand pities that in -these educational days there are <a name="page172"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 172</span>narrow-minded croakers who, under -the guise of friends—though in reality their worst -enemies—are trying to keep the gipsy children in ignorance; -but their object is easily seen by those who stand by and are -looking quietly and thoughtfully on. These false friends -smile in gipsy faces while they are robbing them of their lore to -fill their empty coffers, and this the gipsies will see some -day.</p> -<p>Gipsy Smith and myself began to enumerate all the vans in the -fair, together with those living in them. There were about -thirty gipsy vans, shows, covered carts, &c. In one of -the vans there were eight children besides adults. In -another van there were seven children besides adults. -Altogether we counted over one hundred travelling children in the -fair, not three of whom could read and write. Smith said -that in all his travelling experience he had not known either -gipsy, showman, auctioneer, or traveller ever attend a place of -worship from fair grounds. “Sundays as a rule,” -said Smith, “are spent in travelling with their families -from town to town and from place to place.” Gipsy -Smith lived and travelled with his wife in a covered -pony-cart. There were four “Aunt Sally” stalls, -which dealt out cigars to children for successful -“throws.” The gipsies are to-day doing more to -encourage gambling and smoking than is imagined by ninety-nine -out of every hundred Englishmen. The former saps the morals -and the latter the minds and constitutions of those who are -simple enough to indulge in them.</p> -<p>Before I had done talking with gipsy Smith the Salvation Army -brass band from Leicester, with “Captain” Roberts -from the headquarters, one of the staff officers, hailed within -sight and sound, and as I had not had the opportunity to spend an -evening with the Salvation Army, to see and hear for myself -something of the proceedings, I joined in the procession as an -outsider. Some of the people made an eye-butt of me at -which they stared. Crowds <a name="page173"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 173</span>were gathering round the band as it -played in martial strains—if Mr. Inspector Denning had been -there from the House of Commons better order could not have been -kept—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Hark! hark! my soul, what warlike songs are -swelling<br /> -Through all the streets and on from door to door;<br /> -How grand the truths these burning strains are telling<br /> -Of that great war till sin shall be no more.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>And then the vocal band with their voices would join in -singing the choruses with exciting strains and gesture—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Salvation Army, Army of God,<br /> -Onward to conquer the world with fire and blood.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>After this the brass band led the next verse—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Onward we go, the world shall hear our -singing,” &c.</p> -</blockquote> -<p>After they had played this up the street for a time, the Army -halted, and Captain Roberts and one of the lieutenants addressed -some words to the “band” with fire and vigour running -through them, to which the lads and lasses, young men and -maidens, saints and sinners, responded with the “Old -Methodist” and Primitive Methodist “Glory! glory! -bless the Lord!” “Hallelujah!” “Religion -is the best thing in the world!” “Glory!” -another called out at the top of his voice. While the Army -was giving out no uncertain sound the brass band commenced, under -marching orders and exciting surroundings, reminding me of old -times—</p> -<blockquote><p>“We are marching home to glory,<br /> - Marching up to mansions bright,<br /> -Where bright golden harps are playing,<br /> - Where the saints are robed in white.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>And then, in obedience to the captain’s arms and orders, -the lads and lasses struck up with the chorus—</p> -<blockquote><p>“There’s a golden harp in glory,<br /> - There’s a spotless robe for you—<br /> -March with us to the hallelujah city,<br /> - To the land beyond the blue.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p><a name="page174"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 174</span>And -in this way we kept on till we arrived at the “Salvation -Warhouse.”</p> -<p>A drunken man dressed in rags, but with an intelligent-looking -face and a high forehead, must of needs have a word to say, and -for a time a “branglement” seemed inevitable. -However, with a little tact the storm blew over. After a -little work at “knee drill” in the warhouse the Army -rested for a short time to recruit their animal strength. -While this was going on I looked out for a couch upon which to -rest my bones for the night, and this I found out at Mr. -Atkins’, in the market-place. I then retired to get -my dinner and tea in a coffee-tavern, of pork pie and coffee, -among “chaps and their girls” who had come to -Hinckley for a “fairing.” From thence I -strolled to some gipsy vans on the green, to find a number of the -women washing clothes. My reception was in anything but -heavenly language. The gipsies at this fair were from -Staffordshire, nearly all of whom were unknown to me. If -two of the women had wanted to impress a stranger with the idea -that they were of the poor unfortunate gutter-scum class, they -could not have used more disgusting language than they did. -I chatted with them and gave the children some books and pennies, -which brought sorrow from the lips of the gipsy parents for -having insulted me. After strolling about among the gipsies -and vans in the fair for a time, and distributing some cards and -picture-books among the gipsy, show, and other travelling -children, I wended my way, guided by the sound of “the -light and leading” of the Salvation band, to the -“Salvation shop,” to spend a happy hour or two. -I sat in one corner and looked quietly on, which seemed to puzzle -them. The leaders all had a good stare at me; and first one -and then the other would try to draw me out with the usual -question, to which I replied very politely and left them in a -maze. Captain Roberts <a name="page175"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 175</span>told me over breakfast on the Sunday -morning that I had been a puzzle to the “band” all -the previous evening; and, except to “Captain -Roberts” and the good family with whom I was staying, I -still remain so, for aught I know.</p> -<p>The Army had commenced proceedings, and at the word of command -began to “fire red-hot shot at the devil.” It -was a lively, exciting time. The band struck up while they -were sitting down—</p> -<blockquote><p>“My rest is in heaven, my rest is not -here,<br /> -Then why should I murmur when trials are near?<br /> -Be hushed, my dark spirit, the worst that can come<br /> -But shortens my journey and hastens me home.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>After this the “command” was for -“knee-drill.” Certainly some of the language -and action of the soldiers was a little out of the -“Friends’” style of doing things. One -soldier shouted out at the top of his voice, with a large amount -of enthusiasm, “Lord, help us to kill the devil, he has -troubled us long enough.” Another would call out, -“Lord, the devil has got some powder in his breast; light -it with a match and blow his head off;” to which another -soldier would reply, “Give the devil string enough and he -will hang himself.” “Glory!” they all -shouted.</p> -<p>They now got off their knees, and big and little began to -relate their experiences, and to “tell what the Lord had -done for them.” Our “good brother” in his -experiences said, “While I was serving the devil, he made a -sign-post of me for a rogue’s shop. Now I am a member -of the Salvation Army, with a bit of blue in my coat, which is -better than having red on the end of your nose.” -“Thank God, it is good, brother; hallelujah!” shouted -a number of volunteers.</p> -<p>One little boy said, in his experience with moistened cheeks, -“Thank the Lord; before I joined the Salvation <a -name="page176"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 176</span>Army I was -a bad boy; but now I say my prayers, and am trying to be good, -and mean to get to heaven! Amen.”</p> -<p>One little girl, with tears in her eyes, said, “Before I -joined the Salvation Army I used to be a naughty, bad girl; now I -am praying to God, and try to be good. O Lord, do save my -poor mother, and my brothers and sisters, for Jesus -Christ’s sake. Amen.” A number of girls -and boys related their experiences in similar strains. One -grey-headed old man, with wet eyes and trembling emotion, thanked -“God that He had put it into the mind of one of the boys in -the room to leave him a tract, and to invite him to join the -Salvation Army. It was the best thing that had ever been -done to him. Instead of serving the devil, who was a bad -master, he was serving God, and hoped to get to heaven. -Bless God, and the lads and lasses. Amen.”</p> -<p>The captain now called on the “band” to strike up -one of their “marches,” which they did:</p> -<blockquote><p>“There is a better world, they say, oh so -bright!<br /> -Where sin and woe are done away, oh so bright!<br /> -And music fills the balmy air,<br /> -And Angels with bright wings are there,<br /> -And harps of gold, and mansions fair, oh so bright!”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>And</p> -<blockquote><p>“The Lion of Judah shall break my chain,<br -/> -And give us the victory again and again,” &c.</p> -</blockquote> -<p>I then wended my way to my lodging at Mr. Atkins’, all -the better for having spent a couple of hours with the -“Salvation Army;” and with good wishes for its -success, I dozed away, with a “captain” of the -Salvation Army for a neighbour on one side, and a clergyman of -the Church of England on the other, feeling sure that between -these two good Christian centurion brothers, and under the eye of -my Master, I was pretty sure to land safely, after the tossings -of the night, at the breakfast table in <a -name="page177"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 177</span>the -morning. During my midnight wandering in mist and -dreamland, the following aphorisms, thoughts, and suggestions -floated before my brain.</p> -<p>As the beautiful colours of the field, forest, dell, garden, -and bower are produced by the rays of the sun, so are the -beautiful traits of Christian life produced by the rays of Divine -love, as exemplified and manifested by the Son of God, our -blessed Lord.</p> -<p>The nation that allows her children of tender years to drift -about at sea without rescuing them from ruin, has decay, or -“dry rot,” at work among her timbers, and will before -long become a wreck.</p> -<p>The country that cannot find time to see to the interest of -its little children within its borders, has allowed the devil to -throw dust into the eyes of its leaders, to blind them against -its happiness and prosperity by leading all into the dark.</p> -<p>Why are some Christians little-loved, weak-kneed, and -sickly? Because they, like babies, live on -“sop”—<i>i.e.</i>, trashy fiction, shows, -sights, sounds, and unrealities, instead of the love of God and -the pure milk of His word.</p> -<p>When you see a Christian with the love of God burning deadly -within his soul, and without either light or heat being the -outcome, it may be taken for granted that a lot of worldly ashes -are in the way choking up the ventilation and air passages; and -if he will not set to work at once to clear out the ashes and -dust of sin God will do it for him, either by the chastening rod -of affliction or losses and crosses in other forms.</p> -<p>Cloaks of deception and fraud are made out of the fibres of -disease and putrefaction, and those who wear them are exposed to -the disgust and loathing of all upright observers.</p> -<p>Cloaks of honesty and uprightness are made out of the fibres -of love and truthfulness, and the wearers of them <a -name="page178"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 178</span>are -received with the smiles and loving embraces of all classes of -society.</p> -<p>When you see a Christian without either life or soul within -him, you may rest satisfied that bank-notes, musty-fusty deeds, -or other things upon which he has set his affections, are -clinging round and coming across the ventricles of his heart, and -unless removed they will cause death both to the body and to the -soul. If the earth-bound Christian will set fire to them by -exposing them and his heart to a ray of Divine love, he will be -able to jump over a mountain and scale the battlements of heaven, -and with flag in hand shout, “Victory!”</p> -<p>Some dashing, flashing wicked men are like a balloon without a -vent-hole filled with the devil’s gas, which expands the -higher it rises; and for a time they float upon the surface of -humanity, finally seeking pleasure among the clouds of -fascination and frivolity; and in this region they burst and come -down to earth and their senses with a tremendous crash, to find -when it is too late that they have been making fools of -themselves, and that their grappling irons will not save them -from oblivion and ruin.</p> -<p>A clever, wise, thoughtful, sagacious, and Christian statesman -may be compared to an aeronaut, who sits in his balloon-car -carried by public opinion and pulling the strings of popular -applause. Popular applause is the gas by which a statesman -floats in the air above his followers; the cords and netting that -hold the bottom together are his friends; the treasury bench is -his car and the press his strings, which, wisely handled, enable -him to land upon the desired spot. Poor wayward and -wrong-doing relations are the grappling irons that hold him to -the earth; hangers are paupers, and loafers are his -sandbags. Infidels, Fenians, Sceptics, and Communists are -matches, fusees, and percussion caps, thrown into his car by -disappointed <a name="page179"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -179</span>office-seekers and courtiers with the object of sending -him to Jamaica before his work is done. When those various -elements have either been thrown out of the car, stamped out, or -brought under proper control, he will then mount higher and -higher till he finally quits his car and finds himself seated by -the throne of God.</p> -<p>The best stimulating food for an overworked brain, and -containing more phosphorus than a thousand fish, is the essence -of Divine love, and grace and truth in equal quantities, to be -taken upon the knees as often as circumstances need. Before -applying to the Great Physician for this medicine the patient -should spend an hour in meditation and solitude.</p> -<p>When you see professing Christian parents setting their -children to ferret into other people’s affairs, it is a -sure sign that they are fonder of rat-catching than filling their -souls with good things; and the unwary should be on the look-out, -or they will be trapped by these godly rat-catchers and their -skins taken to be made into purses.</p> -<p>The various denominations of Christian churches in the country -may be likened to an orchard of apple trees, most of which are -bearing fruit in one form or other. Some are just beginning -to bear fruit, and there are others dead or dying, while there -are some trees producing larger quantities of ripe, healthy -fruit. In some cities, towns, and villages the best kinds -of fruit are to be seen, and in other places the little hard sour -crabs, which almost set one’s teeth on edge to look at -them, much less to taste. The best and largest fruit in any -case is that which grows upon the most healthy trees and -branches, exposed to the sun’s rays, and draws its -nourishment the most direct from the parent trunk. Fruit -upon almost dead branches does not so soon get ripe as the fruit -upon healthy branches, and it is small and shrivelled up. -In some localities we shall see what we may call -“Blenheim” <a name="page180"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 180</span>churches, “Russett” -churches, “Crab” churches, “Keswick” -churches, “Northern Green” churches, “Whiting -Pippin” churches, “Winter” churches, &c., -growing side by side. The “Crab” church is -little, hard, and sour; the “Blenheim” church is -rich, large, delicious, and healthy; the “Russett” -church is uninviting, but juicy, and much better than it -looks. So in like manner with other kinds of Christian -churches. The name of the churches answering under these -various names must be answered by the members themselves. -As digging, dunging, pruning, and grafting improves the trees and -the quality of the fruit, so in like manner our heavenly Father -has to deal with His churches, or they would all die -together. Conscience, surrounded with death-like stillness, -asks the question, “To which do you belong?”</p> -<p>A man who has forsaken the path God has marked out for him has -stuffed his ears with wool, and jumped upon the devil’s -steam tug, and is being taken into a long, dark, dark tunnel, -with no light at the other end; and the light of heaven and the -gospel which he has left behind him are, through distance, smoke, -and steam, and his own bad actions, getting gradually less. -The only light he can see, and which will not help him to grope -his way in his wretched condition, is derived from farthing -rush-lights called science, made and placed in the dark watery -cavern by men’s hands; and these get fewer as he is being -pulled along by evil influences, until he is lost in despair, -with horror upon his face and wringing his hands in grief he -passes away.</p> -<p>As children sitting upon a swing gate rocking to and fro are -in some degree being prepared for the storms of a life at sea, so -are the little foretastes of heavenly pleasure enjoyed by His -children from time to time, filling, preparing, and nerving them -for the tempestuous ocean which awaits them.</p> -<p><a name="page181"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -181</span>People without gratitude for God’s mercies may be -compared to swine eating chestnuts as they fall from the -trees. Their refined senses are only manifested in grunts -and grumbles. Wise are the people who take lessons from the -little birds, and sing God’s praises while they enjoy His -blessings.</p> -<p>Gamblers are the devil’s cats set by his Satanic majesty -to catch children and fools, and woe be to those who are caught -within their clutches.</p> -<p>Those who cling to forms and ceremonies entirely as a means of -getting to heaven, will have their eyes opened some day to find -out that they are hugging and fondling an illegitimate child of a -parent of a very questionable character. The more they know -of the child they have been fondling and its mother, the more -they will be disgusted with themselves at having been such dupes -and fools.</p> -<p>Those who disobey their parents will find that they are -putting a noose round their necks, and tying the other end of the -rope to a gate post; and when they have done this the words -“love” and “duty” in letters of fire will -spring up as from the ground, which will keep getting larger and -hotter until the wrong-doers are strangled.</p> -<p>The devil’s butterfly is an unconverted clergyman, who -gets upon the back of a horse to gallop a fox to death on the -week day, dresses in fantastical colours on Sundays, dances -before his congregation with incense in his hands, and with his -face towards the east, tries to carry his congregation on his -wings to a place he knows not where; hypocritically singing the -<i>Te Deum</i> in Latin as they go from “pillar to -post.”</p> -<p>Those landlords who object to the cultivation of their waste -lands for food for man and beast will find that the scent of the -gorse, perfume of the heather, contains the fragrance of the -bankruptcy court, with the hares, rabbits, <a -name="page182"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 182</span>partridges, -pheasants, woodcock and snipe flapping about the doors uttering -horrible noises for their folly. The horrors of the court -will be increased by hearing the cries of the children asking for -bread with none to give.</p> -<p>Those people who, with the aid of a glib tongue, cunning, and -deception, are weaving a cloak of soft words to cover a mass of -iniquity, will find out too late, unless very careful, that the -mass of corruption they have been hiding will burst out with a -more horrible stench than that of a dead corpse.</p> -<p>Infidels and sceptics who rest entirely upon science and -nature as a lever by which they hope to lift humanity into -paradise, have only to look into a bright black earthenware -teapot to discover what sort of wry and contortious faces they -are pulling before the public.</p> -<p>The most powerful magnet in the world is the love of -God. It can draw the sting of the devil, disarm enemies, -and lift all the human beings in the universe into heaven. -The more it is used the stronger and more powerful it gets.</p> -<p>Sceptics and infidels, seeking for the so-called errors in the -Divine Word, may be compared to blind and foot-tied weasels, -trying to catch “Jack Sharps” in a broad, deep, clear -stream of pure water. They leave their sickening scent on -their trail behind them, to be carried forward to be lost in the -great stream of truth from whence all our blessings flow.</p> -<p>Children’s gifts to children produce more blessed, -lasting, and Christ-like results than any other gifts in the -universe. Children’s gifts to poor little outcast, -forgotten, and neglected children are seeds of kindness that will -live as long as this world endures, and they will then bloom in -Paradise for ever.</p> -<p>Christians who receive their strength for the conflicts and -trials of life from reading light books while sitting in -drawing-room slippers, and under the sound of frothy <a -name="page183"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -183</span>conversation, instead of from closet prayer and faith, -and the rain and sunshine of heaven, are like window plants, -which derive their strength from cold and poisonous water put to -their roots. Plants, whether in nature or grace, grown -under such circumstances soon become unhealthy and drooping, and -unable to stand the bare breath of opposition.</p> -<p>Christians living upon the church roll in name only, without -the cheering and enlivening influence of the Holy Spirit, will -become like plants grown in a dark room, pale and feeble. -Some Christian lives are weeds, and may be known by their -crotchets, tempers, and wrinkles.</p> -<p>The first signs of a withering church may be said to have -manifested themselves when the living members extend the dead -hand of sympathy to the suffering members of their own flock.</p> -<p>With the seeds of life are the seeds of death, and at the -birth of any child the mortal conflict begins, never to result in -a “drawn game.”</p> -<p>Big Christians, like big plants, require more water than small -ones; and so in like manner Christians who have many cares, -troubles, business and state responsibility require more grace -than little Christians, and those who have it not will soon -become bankrupt.</p> -<p>The “will” and “principle” are -man’s own twin-sisters, the offspring of life, and run side -by side through the marrow of man’s nature; and who derive -their vitality, life, and power from the unseen spiritual -influences by which they are surrounded for good or for evil; and -every action that tends to cripple either the one or deform the -other is soon manifested in the crooked actions of a man’s -life, shaping immortality.</p> -<p>Crooked Christians, like crooked trees, are neither so -profitable nor beautiful to behold as those who grow straight and -stately.</p> -<p><a name="page184"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 184</span>Under -the guise of an angel of light, Satan dangles false hope before -some Christians, as a basket made of finely-wrought and tender -twigs, a bouquet of delicate, beautiful, lovely, and richly -scented greenhouse plants, as a foretaste of what is before, or -in reserve for those who follow his advice—<i>i.e.</i>, the -influence of the ball-room, theatre, gay living, high life, -fashion, and fancy, &c.; and so dexterously does the arch -enemy hold these things before the simple ones, or entwine them -round their hearts, that they are ready to cry out, -“hell” is heaven and “heaven” is hell; -and in this way the simple are groping after shadows till they -find themselves surrounded by a darkness blacker than midnight, -and without a friend in the world, with the devil laughing in -their face for having been such fools.</p> -<p>The best antidote against beer and hellish swears is cold -water and upward prayers.</p> -<p>To a troubled conscience, at midnight hour the ticking of a -clock sounds as loud as the death knell of the church bell.</p> -<p>Every act of good or ill we perform makes an indent upon the -coil of future life, which will speak and re-speak to us through -the never-ending ages of eternity as they roll along.</p> -<p>Every time a Christian looks at sin with a longing eye, the -devil draws a thin beautiful tinted film before his eyes, through -which film, in process of time, the fire in his conscience eye, -kindled at the time of his conversion, is unable to penetrate, or -see the dangers lying across his path.</p> -<p>Tears of penitence, joy, and gladness are the best eye-salve -for those whose eyes are growing dim.</p> -<p>Christians who have to live in and wade through the mud of -slander and lying pools of deceit have need to wear watertight -boots, of the kind described in the good old book.</p> -<p>By listening attentively to the prayers of a Christian, <a -name="page185"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 185</span>you will -soon discover whether he wants—like a run-down -clock—winding up. Losses and crosses, the death of a -darling child, affliction, and a thousand other things, God useth -as He seemeth well to wind him up and set him a-going again with -fresh vigour.</p> -<p>A man who has a heart full of prejudice, spite, malice, and -envy has an extra eye upon his nose, eclipsing his other eyes, -which can both smell and see the dark side of a man’s -character. So sensitive is this nose-eye that it can detect -faults and failings when there are none to be detected.</p> -<p>The most lovely Christians are those who, like the beautiful -butterfly and charming songsters, live in the sunlight of His -throne.</p> -<p>The more miserable Christians are those who, like bats, buzz -about in the dark.</p> -<p>Some Christians are like London dogs galloping about the -streets after froth, losing their masters, and then they howl -out, “Oh that I knew where I might find him!”</p> -<p>When the benevolent action of drawing-room philanthropy ends -in nothing but tall talk and carpet gossip, it may be compared to -soap bubbles piped forth for show.</p> -<p>Youths receiving their habits, nourishment, character, and -stamina from the pothouse and gin-palace may be compared to -plants grown in a room lighted and warmed with gas, which sicken -and die.</p> -<p>Artificial Christians are like wax flowers, pretty to look -upon; but without scent and perfume, difficult to handle, and -they will not stand the fire.</p> -<p>Society is like a book of poems, and those members with the -most sentiment, poetry, or sympathy in their natures will be the -most sought after, prized, and used.</p> -<p>To a man who has done wrong, and has a troubled conscience, a -louse upon the window pane appears as an ugly monster.</p> -<p><a name="page186"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -186</span>Conscience is the soul’s looking-glass, and -blessed is the man who has courage to hold it up to behold what -manner of man he is.</p> -<p>A sick room is often God’s pinfold, where He places in -naughty wandering children; and there they will lie until either -our blessed Saviour unlocks the gate or takes them over the top -of the walls to heaven.</p> -<p>Authors and their books are like flowers: some are small, but -send out a rich fragrance, and may be used as button-holes in the -drawing-room; others are lovely to look upon, but as sour as -crabs to handle and taste. There are others as large and -showy as the sunflower, with a perfume anything but paradisical; -and there are others with heavenly virtues running through -themselves and their books to such an extent that a child will -have no difficulty in gathering sufficient flowers to form a -beautiful bouquet; and not a few in this our day are actually -poisonous, and dangerous to meddle with.</p> -<p>Strong conviction, the offspring of thought and reflection, is -the handmaid of inspiration, and the agent through which this -heavenly soul-impelling power works out the Divine ends and -decrees of Providence in carrying on the affairs of the world; -and those who are heavenly inspired by means of the golden cord -of love and sympathy, in full action between themselves and God, -may be said to be His cabinet ministers.</p> -<p>The food eaten by an idle man warps his body, stunts his mind, -and sends his soul to ruin.</p> -<p>An oak tree, or any other tree which stands the storms with -defiance, are those whose roots have hold of mother earth with -the firmest grip; and as in nature so in grace. A man to -withstand all the storms of life must have firm hold upon the -Deity.</p> -<p>A crooked tree may be said to be faulty; and it is neither so -valuable nor beautiful as those that are <a -name="page187"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 187</span>straight -and stately; so in like manner it may be said of the crooked -members of Christian churches and social societies.</p> -<p>Some members of the community may he properly called -“creepers,” for they very much resemble the -ivy. They have neither backbone nor principle. Their -object is to creep into religious communities and social -societies, so as to entwine themselves round the members. -They harbour filth, impede growth, hide beauty, and climb by the -strength they steal from others.</p> -<p>A church whose members are tipsters may be compared to a marsh -with too much water at the roots, bringing forth rushes, sedges, -and buttercups.</p> -<p>Upon the tail of a snail a farmer’s weather glass is to -be seen; so in like manner the footsteps of an enemy will reveal -to an observing mind the dangers to be avoided.</p> -<p>Some Christian ministers are like the gas stove, warm-looking -in the pulpit, but cold at home.</p> -<p>A man with all sorts of wrong ideas, crotchets, and queer -notions in his head exhibits himself as a marsh with spots of -green grass and daisies, to get at which mud and quagmire will -have to be faced and got through before they are reached, and -when this has been done the trouble will have been wasted.</p> -<p>Selfish men and misers engaged in grubbing after mammon may be -compared to a swarm of flies feeding upon a dung-heap; and so -long as the sun of prosperity shines they can feed, buzz, annoy, -and sting.</p> -<p>A man who kisses his wife to hide his sins is sowing seeds -that will produce a crop of anguish and despair that will hang -heavier round his neck than a millstone. A kissing deceiver -is the devil’s major-general.</p> -<p>Every time a man or woman does a deceitful action they make -and deposit a grain of gunpowder, that only requires the light of -public opinion and truth to send the <a name="page188"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 188</span>maker, according to the number of -grains deposited, into eternity to reap his folly.</p> -<p>Hungry-bellied politicians, whose object is to sting in order -to feed, are the gadflies of English society, settling upon John -Bull to fill their pockets and rob for fame.</p> -<p>Paupers and lawyers are leeches which fasten upon social life, -often sucking the blood of those who are the least able to stand -them.</p> -<p>A wife who cooks her husband’s meals five minutes behind -time is carving furrows upon his forehead.</p> -<p>A mother who sends her children unwashed to school is -embedding in the child’s nature seeds that will one day -bring a crop of poverty, wretchedness, and despair.</p> -<p>A man who sits playing with his thumbs, hoping that something -will turn up to put him upon the pedestal of fame and fortune, is -hatching addled eggs, and the longer he sits upon them the worse -they will stink.</p> -<p>Infidelity is a thick, muddy canal made by men’s hands, -the bosom of which is covered with the weeds of idiosyncrasies -and Satanic doubts; and beneath its surface it teems with all -kinds of big and little, prickly, dead, and dying venomous -reptiles; and woe be to the man who trusts his barque upon its -stinking and putrefying surface with the hope that it will carry -him to the crystal river and sea of glass.</p> -<p>Something of the wonderful infinitude, love, and power of God, -in regulating and governing the external and internal relation of -myriads upon myriads of millions of worlds teeming with life, -variety, and beauty, may be gathered if we can grasp the idea -that the separate particles of the rays of light sent forth by -the sun to illumine our world each morning are, after they have -done their work, whirled into unknown and unbounded space, and -transformed as they fly, at a rate faster than imagination can -travel, into suns to light up other worlds and other <a -name="page189"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -189</span>systems. And yet He finds time to number the -hairs upon our heads; yea, a sparrow cannot fall to the ground -without His notice. Wonderful! most wonderful! Past -comprehension. None can fathom.</p> -<p>As the twelve precious stones—jasper, sapphire, -chalcedony, emerald, sardonyx, sardius, chrysolyte, beryl, topaz, -chrysoprasus, jacinth, and an amethyst formed the foundation of -the heavenly Jerusalem, the future home of His saints, with -pearly gates, as seen by John the divine in apostolic days; so do -hopeful, believing, fighting, wrestling, joyous, singing, -patient, benevolent, praying, working, and conquering Christians -form the foundation of the present-day heavenly temple, with love -and concord as doors, and walls of virtue, wherein God delights -to dwell among His children, witnessing adoration with loving -eyes, and listening to hymns of praise and thanksgiving with -melodious ears.</p> -<p>A man may be said to be in a fog when he cannot see the hand -of Providence in all his dealings, or God’s finger pointing -out his way.</p> -<p>A closet is a burrow into which a Christian who is hounded to -death by the dogs of hell can run and be safe. When once -there, Christians can smile at their howls and sing while they -show their teeth with rage.</p> - -<div class="gapspace"> </div> -<p>At seven o’clock I was unbolting the door, making my way -out of the house to a number of gipsy vans in an orchard on the -outskirts of the town. On going to the place I met a little -<i>posh</i> gipsy dressed in “rags and trashes,” with -the heels—what was left of the -“trashes”—upside down. He had just turned -out of his bed, he said, and from his bed followed the dog, both -having snoozled under the van—in which his uncle and aunt -lay—on the ground, with a wet, damp rug as a -covering. “Master,” said the little <i>posh</i> -gipsy boy, “can you tell me where I <a -name="page190"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 190</span>can get a -bottle of ginger beer? I am so thirsty and hungry. -I’ve had nothing since my dinner yesterday.” I -went with the boy to several houses where “Ginger-beer sold -here” was displayed in the window, but without -success. I gave the boy the price of a bottle and trotted -him off lower down the town to quench his thirst and satisfy his -appetite.</p> -<p>The gipsies were just beginning to “turn out,” and -the little gipsies, half naked, were hunting up sticks out of the -hedge-bottom to light the fire to boil the water for -breakfast. The men and dogs were collecting together in -groups, half-dressed, to relate to each other their successes at -the fair. Apart from the rest of the gipsies, owning a van -of a better kind than the others, two old gipsies were enjoying -their breakfast upon the ground. As soon as the old gipsy -woman—whose face betokened that it had figured in many an -encounter, and was somewhat highly coloured—saw me, she -began to get excited, and called me to them. I thought, -“Now is the time for squalls; look out.” I drew -near to the old woman with a strange mixture of feelings. -It was early in the morning. There were now about a score -of gipsy men and women looking on, and a few of the dogs came -sniffing at my heels. I tried to screw a smile upon my -face, and to dig and delve low for a pleasant joke, but it would -not come from the “vasty deep.” On my approach -the old woman jumped up from the ground, and with both hands -clasped mine in hers, which felt as rough as a navvy’s, -saying while griping them tightly, “Bless yer, my good mon, -I’ve wanted to see yer for a long while. I’ve -long ’erd abaut yer, and ha’ never had th’ -pleasure o’ puttin’ my een on yer till this -mornin’. Sit yer down on th’ gress, I want to -tawke to yer. Dunner yer be freetened, I’m not -goin’ to swaller yer, bless yer, master mon. -Yer’ll ha’ sum brekust, wonner yer?” -“Yes,” I said, “I did not <a -name="page191"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -191</span>mind.” Although I did not exactly like the -appearance of things, I thought it would not do to say -“no,” and I knelt upon the damp grass. In a pan -over their fiery embers were the remnants of bacon and red -herrings. There was only one large cup and saucer, without -a handle, for the pair of them. I thought most surely she -would fetch a cup and saucer out of the van for me. Such -was not to be the case. A group of some ten or twelve -working men of Hinckley stood looking over the hedge only a few -yards away, at the old woman’s “megrims.” -She handed me in the first place a piece of bread, upon which was -some bacon and herring. It took me all the time to swallow -this uninviting morsel. I munched a little of it, and some -I put into my pocket for another time. She now filled up -her cup with tea, and made her fingers do duty for sugar -tongs. I could see no teaspoons about, except one that was -among the herrings and bacon. This was fetched out and -plunged into the tea, and round and round it went, leaving upon -the top of the dark-coloured tea—which I could now see by -the bright morning sun shining upon the scene—stars -floating about. The old woman first drank herself, and then -handed the cup of tea to me. I supped and nibbled the -crust. I supped again, till between us the cup was nearly -emptied. She had a strong scent of “Black -Jack,” and I kept a very sharp eye upon what parts of the -cup the old woman drank from. “Now then to -bisness,” said the old gipsy. “Yer see none -o’ we gipsies con read an’ write. I’ll -show yer I con, if none o’ them conner. Han yer got -anythin’ wi yer for me to read?” I had a few -copies of “Our Boys and Girls,” with me, given to me -by the Wesleyan Sunday School Union, and I handed one to the old -woman, dated September 1880, and she began stammering at some of -the verses in an excited frame of mind between anger and -pleasure, as if determined to <a name="page192"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 192</span>read them whether she could or -not. “Ha—ha—ha,—Haste -traveller—ha—ha,—haste! the night comes -on.” She got through one or two of the verses pretty -well. I then gave her another verse, which she read fairly -well:</p> -<blockquote><p>“He is our best and kindest Friend,<br /> -And guards us night and day.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>I gave her another verse, but I could see tears in her eyes, -which prevented her getting through it as well as she -desired. She laid the fault to her being without -spectacles. Her reading these lines touched her very much, -and she became quite excited again, and jumped up and clutched -hold of both of my hands and said, “Yer see, my good mon, -if none o’ the t’other gipsies con read, I con, -conner I? But I con do more than read, I con say a lot -o’ the Bible off by heart. The Creeds, Church -Catechism, Belief, and Sacraments, which I larnt by heart when I -was a girl. I went to the Church Sunday School at -Uttoxeter. Yer’ll see by that I have not allus been a -gipsy. When I got married to my old mon I had to go -a-gipsying wi’ him, and have never been in th’ church -since. My name’s Bedman, of ‘Ucheter,’ -and am well known.”</p> -<p>She knelt upon the grass again, and supped a little more of -her strong tea. The number of Hinckley working people and -gipsies was increasing, and up she jumped again, clutching both -of my hands, after which she laid her hand in navvy fashion upon -my shoulder, and began to repeat the Creed: “I believe in -one God, the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, and in -all things visible and invisible. And in one Lord Jesus -Christ, the only begotten Son of God,” and on she went to -the end in her fashion. After this she knelt down again and -began with the Decalogue; “God spake these words and said, -I am the Lord thy God; thou shalt have none other gods <a -name="page193"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 193</span>but -me,” and with a red face, and tears in her eyes, trembling -with emotion, she sung in the usual chanting tone, “Lord -have mercy upon us, and incline our hearts to keep this -law.” The old gipsy woman went on to the end, to -which I responded, “Amen.” Some portions of the -Litany were repeated, and then she struck off at a tangent into -the Catechism, commencing with “What is your name? -May Bedman. Who gave you that name? My godfathers and -godmothers in my baptism, wherein I was made a member of Christ, -the child of God, and an inheritor of the kingdom of -heaven. What did your godfathers and godmothers then for -you? They did promise and vow three things in my -name. First, that I should renounce the devil and all his -works, the pomps and vanities of this wicked world, and all the -sinful lusts of the flesh. Secondly, that I should believe -all the Articles of the Christian Faith. And thirdly, that -I should keep God’s holy will and commandments, and walk in -the same all the days of my life;” and then she sung out, -“Amen.” “Ah!” said the old woman, -“you see, my good master mon, I know a little, don’t -I?” “Yes,” I said, “you know a -little, and he that knoweth his Master’s will, and doeth it -not, ‘shall be beaten with many -stripes.’” “Yes,” said the old -gipsy, “I do know my Master’s will, and I have not -done it, and I’ve been beaten with many stripes during the -last forty years, and here I am. Never mind, let bygones be -bygones. ‘Let the wicked forsake his way, and the -unrighteous man his thoughts: and let him return unto the Lord, -and he will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for he will -abundantly pardon.’” And I replied, -“Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as -snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as -wool.” “Yes, you are right, bless you,” -said the old backsliding gipsy, and with wet knees and wet eyes -she sang out again, “Lord, <a name="page194"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 194</span>have mercy upon us, and incline our -hearts to keep this law,” to which I responded, -“Amen.” I then left this penitent gipsy’s -strong grips, the gipsy gang, and the number of lookers-on to go -to my “quarters” for my breakfast. I then spent -another half-hour with the Salvation Army. After a pleasant -conversation with the clergyman at my lodgings, I started -homeward, and on my way to the station I came upon one of my old -gipsy families, who were just having their breakfast in a very -filthy, tumbledown van, with their six poor ragged, dirty little -children squatting about on the bottom of it. The -good-hearted <i>posh</i> gipsy woman seemed to have lost all -spirit in her struggles to live a respectable traveller’s -life, and was now with her children in the depths of despair and -poverty. She would insist on my having a cup of tea as I -sat upon the doorstep. I could not drink all of it, but did -the best I could under the circumstances. She persisted in -pressing me to take a cocoa-nut and a sponge for my little folk -at home, the cocoa-nut to eat and the sponge to clean their -slates with.</p> -<p>It is from two adjoining villages in the neighbourhood of -Hinckley that two of our present-day English tribes of gipsies -spring. Many years ago the father of one tribe was a -“stockinger”—<i>i.e.</i>, one who makes -stockings—and he conceived the idea that he would like to -be a gipsy. Accordingly he set up a pedlar’s -“basket of trifles” and began to stump the -country. From this small beginning there are now between -forty and fifty “real gipsies,” as some backwood -gipsy writers—who would delight in seeing this country -dragged backward into Druidism as a retaliation for their own -failure in the battle of life—would call them. Poor -little-souled mortals! they are to be pitied, or my feeling of -disgust at their wrong-doing would lead me to say hard things -about them. To be laughed out of school is a start bad -enough in the wrong road in all conscience, without a severe -probe from me. My pleasure would be to put out the <a -name="page195"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 195</span>hand to -lead wrong-doers back to the wise counsel of a loving Christian -father, the decalogue, and the teaching of Christ.</p> -<p>The success of the first gipsies in their “rounds” -led the second lot to take up the “profession,” and -to-day we have two full-blown tribes of English gipsies in full -swing, tramping the country in vans, carts, surrounded in many -instances with dogs, dirt, wretchedness, and misery. -Sometimes they will be fraternizing with kisses, and other times -they will be quarrelling and fighting with each other to the -extent of almost “eating each other’s heads -off.” In these two families there will be close upon -one hundred and fifty men, women, and children, and not more than -three or four out of the whole able to read and write a -sentence. It is truly heartrending to contemplate the -amount of evil that has been done in the country by these two -families of artificially-trained gipsies. Thank God, some -of them are beginning to see the error of their ways.</p> -<p>I bade the Hinckley gipsies good-bye, and having dined off a -slice of bread-and-butter fetched out of the corner of my bag, at -Nuneaton station, I made my way homeward. As I was mounting -the last hill on this bright, lovely Christian Sabbath day the -church bells were pealing forth—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Come to church and pray<br /> -On this blessed day.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>Mr. George Burden, the Leicester poet, author of “The -Months,” had heard something of the cry of the gipsy -children when he was prompted to send me the following touching -little poem:—</p> -<blockquote><p style="text-align: center">“THE GIPSY -CHILDREN.</p> -<p>“From the remotest ages,<br /> - From many a lovely lane,<br /> -The cry of gipsy children<br /> - To heaven hath risen in vain.</p> -<p>“<span class="smcap">Chorus</span>. Then rescue -gipsy children,<br /> - - -Who roam our country lanes.<br /> - - -Break off their moral thraldom,<br /> - - -That keeps each life in chains.</p> -<p><a name="page196"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -196</span>“Through many a bitter hardship<br /> - Their little lives have passed;<br /> -Round them the robes of kindness<br /> - As yet have ne’er been cast.</p> -<p>“From city, town, and village<br /> - They wander wild and free,<br /> -Too long despised, forsaken,<br /> - Amid their revelry.</p> -<p>“No influence pure and heavenly<br /> - Protects them night and day;<br /> -Nor wise and blest instruction<br /> - To help them on their way.</p> -<p>“From vice and shame and ruin,<br /> - That taint their early youth,<br /> -Ye English hearts deliver—<br /> - Shield them with love and truth.</p> -<p>“One hastens to their rescue<br /> - With earnest heart and will;<br /> -God bless the noble mission<br /> - Of George Smith of Coalville!”</p> -</blockquote> -<h2><a name="page197"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -197</span>Rambles among the Gipsies, Posh Gipsies, and Gorgios at -Long Buckby.</h2> -<p><span class="smcap">During</span> the Sunday night after my -visit to Hinckley I more than once thought that I was about to -enter the great unknown and unseen world of <i>Tátto -paáni</i> (spirits) from whence no <i>choórodo</i> -(tramp) returns.</p> -<p>After partaking of a light breakfast of the kind -<i>Midúvelesko</i> (Christ) and <i>mongaméngro</i> -(beggars) eat, with my <i>Romeni</i> (wife), <i>Racklé</i> -(sons), and <i>Raklia</i> (girls) at our plain-fare -<i>misáli</i> (table), I began with some of “<i>our -boys and girls</i>” to wend my way through <i>poous</i> -(fields) and by-lanes and over rippling streams to Long -Buckby. I had not got far down one of the lanes before I -came upon a scissors-grinder (<i>posh</i>) gipsy, who, together -with his <i>joovel</i> (woman) and their six -<i>nongo-peeró chiklo chavis</i> (barefooted dirty -children), were <i>beshing</i> (sitting) upon <i>chiklo drom -rig</i> (muddy roadside) <i>rokering</i> (talking), -<i>chingaren</i> (quarrelling), <i>sovenholben</i> (swearing), -and eating their <i>shooker manro</i> (dry bread) for breakfast -and <i>paáni</i> (water) out of the rippling stream for -<i>múterimongri</i> (tea). Their -<i>yogoméskro</i> (fireplace) was upon the <i>chik</i> -(ground); their <i>kair</i> (house) was a barrow covered with -rags. Although belonging to <i>Anghitérra</i> <a -name="page198"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 198</span>(England), -and priding themselves on being <i>Gaújokones</i> -(English), not one of the eight men, women, and children could -tell a letter. <i>Shóshi</i> (rabbits) were not to -be seen, and <i>kanegrós</i> (hares) were out of sight, -where they <i>Taned</i> (camped). Rooks were -“caw”-cawing overhead; -<i>baúro-chériklo</i> (pheasants) and <i>ridjil</i> -(partridges) had flown. After a chat with them I -distributed a few pictures and little things to the <i>chabis</i> -(children), and then bade them good (<i>saúla</i>) -morning.</p> -<p>A further trembling stroll by the hedges, ditches, daisies, -and buttercups brought me to the edge of the canal, where I sat -down to watch the darting, jumping, and frisking of the -<i>mátcho</i> (fish) as they shot to and fro before -me. Every now and again a perch would pop up out of the -clear water, as if anxious to have a peep and a game, and then it -would, with a whisk of its tail, shoot off like an arrow. -The lark was singing overhead. While meditating, musing, -and observing upon the surroundings and unregistered and -uninspected canal boats and cabins packed to suffocation with -uneducated poor canal children, in face of an Act -passed—for which I worked <i>hard</i> and <i>long</i> from -1872 and onward to to-day, to prevent this sad state of -things—I began to aphorize, and entered into my pocket-book -the following aphorisms:—</p> -<p>Some little-brained, over-sensitive, dwarfish mortals, who -spend their time in running after little annoyances, may be -compared to a policeman running with his staff after a fly which -has been tickling the end of his nose on a summer’s sunny -afternoon.</p> -<p>A clever man who has found his way into the gutter through his -own misconduct may be compared to a piece of granite, with a -rugged squarishness about him that would have enabled him to find -his upward way into the world and good society; instead of which -his ruggedness has been rubbed and kicked off, and to-day he is -as a <a name="page199"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -199</span>boulder upon the pavement, and undergoing the process -of being kicked from pillar to post, with no reward for him but -the gutter.</p> -<p>A man who builds up his fortune out of ill-gotten gains, and -the grinding sweat of the poor, is feathering his nest in a dead -carcase that will stink long in his nostrils, notwithstanding -fine feathers, plausible excuses, and sanctimonious looks.</p> -<p>When present unhappiness is the outgrowth of honest conviction -and hard-working strivings, a crop of immortal pleasures will be -seen where least expected.</p> -<p>Immortal, golden fame is the everlasting perfume of eternal -flowers, grown out of immortal deeds, sown upon immortal soil by -unselfish hands, and watered by tears of sorrow shed in -trial’s darkest hours.</p> -<p>When ignoramuses and fools mistake the artificial light of -science for that of the sun, it may be taken for granted that -they are in a fair way for having their fingers burnt in the -candle.</p> -<p>A shallow headed trickster, with a hungry belly and an empty -pocket, clothed in trickery, wringing the watery drops of -sympathy and benevolence from his nature to paint virtuous smiles -upon his face to deceive his friends while he lightens their -pockets of gold, for which he has never worked, has earned the -title of the devil’s grave-digger, with <i>perfidus -fraudulentus</i> engraved upon the buttons of his coat.</p> -<p>Round boulder-stones are awkward things with which to build up -new churches, so are the round members of the community, without -principle, fidelity, and piety, awkward members of society to -found new Christian churches.</p> -<p>A London smoke prevents healthy vegetation, as do London -morals and influences prevent healthy spiritual life and -vigour.</p> -<p><a name="page200"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 200</span>A -loan office is a social whirlpool that has shipwrecked thousands -of honest families, and as the little ones have gone down they -have cried for help, but there has been none to deliver.</p> -<p>The man to gauge your pocket correctly is a lawyer, for he can -tell what filthy lucre you have in it with his eyes shut.</p> -<p>A lawyer’s office is coated with birdlime, strong enough -to fetch the clothes off your back and keep you riveted to the -spot; and then the lawyer, with a laugh upon his face like -Solomon’s leeches, cries out for more.</p> -<p>As rusty old nails put into pickle produce poison for the -body, so do rusty, deceitful old sinners put into social and -religious societies produce moral poison.</p> -<p>In the darkest heart, riven with anguish and despair, there -lies embedded in the human breast a spiritual vein that only -requires one touch of the match of heavenly sympathy to cause it -to shed seraphic lustre upon hellish actions, at once -transforming them into Divine.</p> -<p>A dandy is fashion’s painted sparrow, whose wings will -be sure to be clipped, and who will find a final resting-place in -the gutter.</p> -<p>A gin-shop is the devil’s headquarters, with the -landlord as his recruiting serjeant, and rags as the standard -colours of his army.</p> -<p>In all societies the devil has his “gad-flies,” -whose only mission in the world seems to be to sting and -annoy.</p> -<p>Slanderers and backbiters are the cats of hell, with eyes of -fire, poison-steeped claws, and tails of blood, running wild, and -woe be to those who come in their way.</p> -<p>As the light proceeding from the natural sun produces the -seven cardinal colours, viz., red, orange, yellow, green, blue, -indigo, and violet, and with a proper mixture of these colours a -spotless white is produced; so in like manner with the light -proceeding form the Son of God, <a name="page201"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 201</span>the seven cardinal graces are the -outcome of His glory, viz., love, joy, patience, faith, meekness, -temperance, and charity, which, when blended together in human -natures, produce a perfect Christian, reflecting His glory and -image.</p> -<p>Imagination is the ethereal unseen car that carries the twin -angelic sisters, love and sympathy, through space and matter to -visit the darkest and brightest spots of creation as a mission of -affection, consolation, reproof, help, and encouragement to every -fallen son of Adam.</p> -<p>A mother’s prayers are a life-belt that has saved -thousands of young men and women from being lost amid the dark -storms and wrecks of life, until they have been lifted into the -life-boat and carried safe to shore beneath the silver rays of -Biblical truth, which the lighthouse of heaven has been shedding -o’er the troubled waters dashing against the rocks of land -and rugged earth.</p> -<p>As the rose, pine-apple, and other deliciously scented fruits -and flowers send forth the best fragrance when clouds are the -darkest and lowest, atmosphere the heaviest, and rainstorms -flying threateningly about, so in like manner do the most -child-like, Christ-like, modest, and heavenly Christians send -forth heavenly graces tinted with seraphic splendour when the -storms of persecution are flying savagely about, afflictions -weigh heavily, and Providence hidden from view.</p> -<p>As the beautiful white snow that flappers and flickers about -us in winter appears shapeless and ragged to the naked eye, but -when seen through a microscope presents prismatic forms and -crystalline beauty beyond imagination, so in like manner the -blessings, bounties, and mercies of God do to the eye of sinful -nature and a bad heart; but when they are seen by the eye of -sincerity, child-like simplicity, and faith, then the beauty and -wonderful variety of God’s goodness to us are manifested <a -name="page202"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 202</span>as they -descend with heavenly stillness in our rooms and round our -paths.</p> -<p>Children seeking innocent, pure, and moral precepts among -wicked street boys and girls, are running barelegged and -barefooted after butterflies in a field of nettles and -thistles.</p> -<p>A bed of affliction is the “gridiron” upon which -God often puts His children when either their keel or -propeller—faith and love—gets out of order. -Sometimes when they have been very wayward, and have suffered -severely, nothing less than being run into “dry -dock”—afflictions and earthly losses—will meet -their case.</p> -<p>As pearls and other precious gems can be brought out of the -sea only by diving—no magnetic hand of an idle man is -powerful enough to cause them to swim—so can a Christian -fetch up the much more precious hidden mysteries of heaven by -retiring from the world and engaging in closet prayer, and diving -into God’s wonderful system of Divine love. The gems -out of the sea adorn the body, while the pearls of heaven -beautify the mind, enliven the soul, put a lustre upon the -actions, and illumine the countenance with heavenly radiancy.</p> -<p>As the eyes and nose convey the delicious scents and beauty of -creation to the natural man, so in like manner do faith and -prayer convey to the soul the fragrance, delight, and beauty of -heaven.</p> -<p>A man who seeks to be a philanthropist for worldly fame, with -a heart full of pride, selfishness, vanity, levity, lust, -babbling, hate, and deceit, has a compass upon his ship out of -order. And he may also be compared to a vessel with eight -“fo’c’sles” and no “poop,” -with helm to steer, trusting to his flimsy sails of false hopes -flappering in the breeze to guide him to heaven, but sure to run -him aground to hell.</p> -<p>The heavenly prayer of earth tinged with grief and <a -name="page203"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 203</span>sorrow will -become the golden picture of heaven illuminated with joy and -tinted with God’s radiant smile.</p> -<p>The face of a good man is the best heliograph in the -world. The heliograph used in war-time, as a signal, shines -best with the brightest sun, while the heliograph produced upon a -man’s face by love shines best in the darkest hour. -Dismal cellars, squalid hearths, wretched garrets and prisons, -are good places in which to reflect a radiant splendour that will -last for ever.</p> -<p>To get a faint idea of God’s goodness and infinite -splendour we have only to imagine all the leaves and petals of -vegetation, differing in shape and size, teeming with silvery -dewdrops of an infinitude of delicate tints, which, as they drop -among the flowers of earth, instantly turn into pearls and -diamonds of the first water; and while you are picking them up, a -doubling and multiplying process is everlastingly going on to -fill their places. So God gives, and so are the recipients -of His mercies, ever blessed with an infinite number of mercies -daily and hourly as we pass along.</p> - -<div class="gapspace"> </div> -<p>After another slow walk I felt drowsy, and sat down upon a -mossy bank under a shady tree to rest my bones and wearied -limbs. The whistling of the sweet songsters and the -bleating of the sheep and lowing of the oxen, together with the -lovely summer’s enchantments, sent me into a doze with my -elbows upon my knees. I had not been long in this position -before the meadow appeared as one vast gipsy encampment, composed -of tents, vans, dogs, wretchedness, misery, devilry, ignorance, -dirt, filth, and squalor. The gipsy men, women, and -children were playing, singing, preying, banging, shouting, -fighting, thieving, lying, swearing, poaching, cheating, and -fortune-telling to their hearts’ content. Among this -vast concourse of English gipsy heathens, there were not a few -“spoony” Gorgios, and <a name="page204"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 204</span>“<i>posh</i> -gipsies.” At one side of the meadow there was a gipsy -tent covered with rags and old sheeting. There were several -little lost gipsy children playing about it on the grass. -Near them stood two gipsy women talking to two silly young -ladies, and telling their fortunes. The young ladies, of -course, were both in love with fair gentlemen, but the fair -gentlemen would prove deceitful and dark gentlemen would take -their places; and they would marry well, after crossing the -water, and become rich, and have a number of children, who would -become dukes and lords, and would live and die rolling in gold -and splendour, with horses, carriages, and servants to wait upon -them “hand and foot.” One of the young ladies, -with glittering wealth hanging about her, would have much trouble -and many disappointments before she realized her wishes, but all -would be removed and made right as time went on. One of the -old fortune-telling wicked hags, who could not read a letter, -took out a small pocket Bible, and pretended to read a few -verses. The old gipsies made a few signs, repeated some -gabble, and looked into the hands of the young ladies, and told -them to come again, as they had something of great importance to -tell them the next time, which would add much to their happiness, -beauty, and pleasure; but before the secrets could be successful -they must bring the best and most valuable ring they had in the -house for her to make crosses with, so that she might rule her -planet properly and dispose of the fair man, who was haunting one -of them to make her his wife, but would bring her to ruin. -To the other young lady an old gipsy woman said, in a kind of -snake’s whisper, “You, my dear young lady, have -living with you in your family a fair woman and dark man; they -don’t mean you any good. You must have nothing to do -with them; be sure and hear what I say. Now mind, you must -not listen to what they say, or it will be your ruin, and all my -<a name="page205"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 205</span>words of -counsel will turn to curses.” “But,” said -the young lady, “there is no fair woman or dark man in our -house, except my father and mother.” -“Well,” said the old gipsy, “hear what I have -to say. Your father and mother are no friends of -yours. Now mark that; goodbye, my sweet girl. The -Lord bless you, my dear girl. I shall see you again soon; -good-bye. Be sure and bring the best ring in the -house. Good-bye, and may the dear Lord bless you. If -you can bring two rings it will be all the better for your -happiness and fortune. The young gentleman who will be your -husband will never be cross. He will always be -smiling. He will be beautiful, and he will let you go where -you like and do what you like. Bring two rings for your own -sake. Good-bye, my darling child. I wish I stood in -the way for a fortune and happiness as surely as you do; but all -depends upon you bringing me the rings. Good-bye, my sweet -child. If you can bring me a spade-ace guinea, or a Queen -Victoria sovereign of the present year, it will be all the -better. I can influence the planets so that you can have -your dear charming little husband, horses, carriages, and footmen -to wait upon you earlier. The planets will do anything just -now. Good-bye, my sweet darling child. You are so -much like your dear aunt; she was one of the prettiest and best -ladies I ever knew, and it would be a thousand pities for you not -to have a good husband. Bring the two rings, and the guinea -or sovereign, and it shall be all right. -Good-bye.” “But,” said the young lady, -“I have not got any diamond rings and sovereigns. -They are my father’s and mother’s.” -“Never mind. Hear what I say; you must bring them if -you want to be happy. I’ll influence the planets to -send your father and mother,” said the old hag, closing her -fist, and with fire in her eyes, and a devil’s anger in -heart, and frowns upon her face, “more in their places of -greater value to them. The <a name="page206"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 206</span>planets will not be ruled, my dear -young lady, except by the rings that your father and mother have -worn; and the sovereign would be all the better if taken out of -either your father’s or mother’s pocket. The -gold and rings of your mother have the most influence with the -planets.”</p> -<p>After the young ladies had gone, the woman winked at me with a -twinkle, and said, with her arm raised, “Don’t you -spoil my game, and I will bless you. If all goes on right -we shall have lots of money the whole of the winter. If you -do spoil my game, I—I—I will curse you to death; to -death will I curse you, and shall call you a vile wretch for -ever; to death you shall be sent.”</p> -<p>While this was going on, a little bird was singing in the -trees overhead, which caused the old gipsy woman to look up at it -and me, and in a softened voice said, “What does it -say?” I said, “If you could but read it -rightly, it says, ‘Be not deceived, God is not mocked; for -whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also -reap.’” This seemed to startle the old gipsy, -and she vanished into the crowd.</p> -<p>Among the crowd of gipsies I noticed several gipsy men -clustered together. In the centre of the group there was a -dead sheep. Sticker said to Nobbler, “How did you -come by it?” “Never mind,” said -Nobbler. “I’ve got it and that’s enough, -but I may as well tell you a little. I went round the -villages a few miles away selling some pegs and skewers, and just -outside one of the villages there was a large lot of sheep in one -of the fields in prime condition, belonging to a farmer who, they -say, is a sleepy sort of a chap, and will never put any of the -bobbies upon your track. I conceived a liking for one of -the sheep. I knew Goggle Fletcher would be passing by the -end of the field in which the sheep were with his cart; and so I -hung about in the public-house in the village till it was -dark. I entered the field through a gap, and drove them -into a dry corner. I kept upon the tufts of grass as much -<a name="page207"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 207</span>as I -could, so that I could not be traced. I was not long before -I made short work with one of them. After this I dragged -him to the ditch by the side of the road by which Goggles was to -pass. I lay in the ditch for a long time. It seemed -as if he never would come. At last about eleven -o’clock he came. I could tell the sound of his -trap. On coming up to me I bawled out in a soft voice, -‘Goggles, Goggles, step down. I’ve got -something for you. It will be a treat for Sunday’s -dinner.’ ‘Is that you, Nobbler? -What! You’ve been up to it again, have you? You -will have the “long wools,” if they are to be got, -without either love or money.’” Goggles jumped -down and helped Nobbler to lift the sheep into the cart, and off -they bowled, arriving in the meadow about one o’clock in -the morning. Gipsies always take their plunder far -away. The skin was buried, and they set to work dividing -the carcase among their kith and kin.</p> -<p style="text-align: center"> -<a href="images/p207b.jpg"> -<img alt= -"A scissor-grinding gipsy. “Scissors to grind”" -title= -"A scissor-grinding gipsy. “Scissors to grind”" - src="images/p207s.jpg" /> -</a></p> -<p>Another gang had been out on a poaching expedition with their -lurcher dogs, and brought to their tents and vans some hares, -rabbits, and pheasants; these were also divided. Among this -vast gipsy encampment, numbering some hundred men, women, and -children, I saw an aged couple of gipsies with some of their -grandchildren round them. The old woman had learned to read -the Bible a little, and she was telling the children to be good -and love God. She was the only one who could read among the -gipsies, except a few riffraff Gorgios, who were studying -gipsying with a view to leading an idle vagabond’s life, -free from parental restraint and elevating social influences.</p> -<p>In the camp I noticed a <i>posh</i> gipsy -“scissor-grinder” from one of our alleys, and his -gipsy wife; every few minutes he bawled out, “Scissors to -grind!” “Scissors to grind!” While he was -grinding away at his knives and scissors, his wife was stitching -umbrellas and “minding her baby.”</p> -<p><a name="page208"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 208</span>I -found that the man had had a good education at a high-class -school, but had taken the “wrong turning,” and now -spent part of his time in “scissor-grinding,” singing -gipsy “slap-dash songs,” and during the short days of -winter “dotted down” gipsy love tales, &c. -He had smudged thickly over the soul saving golden letters -embedded in his memory in the days of childhood—as all -young men and maidens do who take to gipsying—the fifth -commandment: “<i>Honour thy father and thy mother</i>; -<i>that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God -giveth thee</i>.” Poor follow! I felt sorry to -see his dirty knees through the rents in his breeches. In -his childhood he had been taught by his Christian parents to lisp -as he knelt with his head bent low against his mother’s -knees—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Teach me to live that I may dread<br /> -The grave as little as my bed.”</p> -<p>“I lay my body down to sleep,<br /> - Let angels guard my -bed.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>Now he could sing out with his wife’s -assistance—more jovially, of course, than Hubert Smith sung -it on his tramp to Norway—</p> -<blockquote><p>“My father’s the king of the -gipsies—that’s true,<br /> -My mother, she learned me some camping to do.<br /> -With a packet on my back, and they all wish me well,<br /> -I started up to London, some fortunes for to tell.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>Or more touchingly than Esmeralda sung</p> -<blockquote><p> “Shul, -Shul, gang along with me;<br /> -Gang along with me, I’ll gang along with you.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>How much better it would have been for this scissor-grinding -<i>posh</i> gipsy if he had followed the advice that had been -given to him, and endeavoured to lead the poor lost wanderer upon -right paths to heaven instead of to hell.</p> -<p><a name="page209"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 209</span>A -gipsy’s charges for “grinding” and -“setting” a pair of scissors vary from twopence to -two shillings and sixpence; all depends upon circumstance and who -owns them.</p> -<p><i>Posh</i> gipsies and others who encourage gipsy wrongdoing -know it to be misleading and evilsome; but it does not answer -their purpose to speak faithfully and truthfully about gipsy -wrong-doing. Gipsy idleness, gipsy frauds, gipsy cruelty, -gipsy filth, gipsy lies, gipsy thefts, gipsy cheating, gipsy -fornication, and gipsy adultery, are looked upon by all -enlightened Englishmen and Christians as sins to be avoided and -not to be encouraged. And he who encourages the gipsies in -this wrongdoing is an enemy to the State, an enemy to God, an -enemy to Christianity, and an enemy to himself, for which he will -be made to smart some day. Their ill-gotten coin will burn -their pockets and singe the hair of their head with terrible -vengeance.</p> -<p>To come again to the things I saw with my eyes shut while -lying under the shade.</p> -<p>Among the hundreds of gipsy children in this vast camp who -were going to ruin there were a few fast-goers, fools and fops, -fraternizing with the “gipsy beauties,” but no hand -was put out to help to save the children from woe. The -“<i>gentlemen</i>” were too busy to soil their hands -with the poor-ragged, forlorn, neglected, forgotten, and forsaken -gipsy children. They might live like heathen and die like -dogs. A thousand things must be attended to, and the souls -and bodies of the gipsy children might go to hell for aught they -cared.</p> -<p>Occasionally a gipsy child in this camp would begin to sing; -but, as Elton Summers in the <i>Christian World</i> Magazine for -1877, says—</p> -<blockquote><p>“More plaintive and low is its melody,<br /> -Till, faint with its own sad reverie,<br /> -It sinks to a whisper and dies.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p><a name="page210"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 210</span>As I -lay, I noticed a man, apparently about sixty years of age, with -grey hair, round features, and a load upon his back, coming -through the gate into the meadow. The nimbleness and -elasticity of his step had well-nigh gone. His clothes were -ragged and worn. He staggered along, and as he began to -move among the gipsies they began to add to his load. -Sorrow had furrowed his cheeks and a paleness was upon his -countenance. Every few minutes he seemed to hesitate and -stop, as if going to put his load upon the ground, in order to -move more quickly among them, and into a resting tent at the edge -of the meadow.</p> -<p>During one of his standstills I heard him with tears in his -eyes saying to himself, “Shall I put the load down? -Yes, I think I will;” and then he summoned up strength and -courage and said, “No! no! I won’t put it down -till I’ve either carried it to where I want to carry it or -die in the attempt.”</p> -<p>Presently he staggered and fell heavily with his burden upon -the sod. He lay for a few minutes without any one noticing -him. After he had lain for some time a crowd began to -gather round him. Some said, with a chuckle and a grin, -“He’s dead, thank God! We’ve done with -him, thank God! and hope he has got into a warm -place.” Three or four gentlemen pressed through the -crowd to look at the old man; and as they were going among the -bystanders I heard them say to each other, “If he shows -signs of life we will give him a lift, but if he is going to die -we will have nothing to do with him. Let those see to him -who like, we will leave him to his fate, be it rough or -smooth.” Like the priests and Levites of old, they -went on the other side.</p> -<p>Among the crowds in the ditches I noticed an old <i>posh</i> -gipsy woman from South Carolina Street, with basket in hand -picking up wasps, newts, and weasels. One of the gentlemen -noticed what she was doing, and questioned <a -name="page211"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 211</span>her as to -her movements and intentions. She replied as follows, -“You will see what I am going to do with them when I have -gathered my basketful. I hold in my pocket a bottle -containing some mixture that when once it is applied to the -basket will cause them to buzz, sting, and poison -fearfully. For the matter of that a few others will help to -do the same thing; and when this is done I am going to empty them -upon the poor devil’s head to either poison or sting him to -death. Several here tried to do it before, but they were -fools and did not go the right way to work.” One -gentleman said, “Has the poor fellow ever done you any harm -or wronged you in any way?” “Well, I -don’t know that he has, but I and a few others want to see -the end of him.”</p> -<p>She filled her basket, and applied the mixture to the wasps, -newts, and weasels, and just as she was going to empty them upon -the head of the poor fellow, about dying, they turned and settled -upon her own pate, and away she went out of the crowd, and I have -not seen her since. By the side of the poor fellow lay a -small bag of seeds which were to grow bread, clothes, and -comfort, which a few friends had collected to help the old man on -his journey. It was not long by the side of the old pilgrim -before up stepped a little dodger who had taken to gipsying, -named Philip Lamb, from Russia, who seized the small bag and off -he scampered. The last I saw of him was that he was -tramping the country with patches upon his breeches.</p> -<p>While this was taking place, three or four other -gentlemen—real and not shams—appeared upon the -scene. For a few minutes they looked and stared at each -other, as if at a loss to know what it all meant, and what the -old man had done wrong. “Oh!” said one and -another and another, “it will never do to let the poor -fellow die in this way;” and they at once set to work to -lighten his load, <a name="page212"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -212</span>and to give him some nourishment. After treatment -of this kind for a little time, he began to come round again, and -smiles were to be seen upon his face and the faces of his -friends.</p> -<p>Through one of the gates leading into this gipsy encampment I -saw running post haste a number of well-dressed young men and -women of respectable appearance, who were making their way to -three or four men from the Ionian Isles, who had disappointed -society and society had disappointed them. One man stood -upon a little hillock, piping forth, in slap-dash gipsy songs, -backwood novels, boshy stories, and gipsy lore, the beauties, -delights, and loveliness of gipsy life in a way that caused a -shivering, aching pang to run through my system from the crown of -my head to the soles of my feet. He continued to tell of -the pleasure of white lies, and taking things that were not your -own; and also in feeding upon things, whether birds, beasts, -fish, or game, that lived in the water that God gave us, or upon -the grass that He sent us. “God,” said these -gipsy sensualists, “knew nothing of gates, fences, locks, -keys, bars, and bolts.” These poor misguided young -folks listened with open mouths, and in the end they went into -the gipsy tents. They doffed their cloth, put on gipsy -garbs, tanned and washed their faces in walnut water, and sallied -forth into the crowd cadging and begging, lying and -stealing—as only gipsies can.</p> -<p>Among the crowd of gipsies farther away there were two or -three real Romanys who had “begun to serve God,” and -were distributing tracts among the gipsy children, at which the -scissor-grinding <i>push</i> gipsy turned up his nose.</p> -<p>On a little mound stood a little man with a <i>posh</i> gipsy -woman by his side, telling those round him that gipsies were -angels who had been wafted from India to our midst <a -name="page213"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 213</span>by the -heavenly breezes of the Celestial City, and that their ragged and -tattered garments were the robes of Paradise, and whatever they -did, however dark and evil, was done under the influences of the -good spirit of gipsydom. One little sharp-eyed gipsy -fellow, named Deliverance Smith, from Kaulo-gav (Birmingham), -called out to the <i>push</i> gipsy, “Sir <i>posh</i> -Gorgio, do you mean to say that these old rags I’ve got on -have been made and put upon my back by angels; and that when I -swears, tells lies, fights, and steals, a good spirit has told me -to do so? because if you do, I say it is a lie, and know better -than believe your tale.” The <i>push</i> gipsy called -the little fellow to him and said in a whisper, “I -don’t mean what I say, but I must say something to fill -people’s mouths. These girls round me are fond of a -‘lark,’ and I like them. I know nothing about -the other gipsies. Keep your mouth shut, and here’s -sixpence for you.”</p> -<p>In some of the tents diseased <i>bálamo-mas</i> (pork) -was being cooked; in others, <i>hotchi-witchi</i> (hedgehogs), -<i>kané-gros</i> (hares), and <i>bouris</i> (snails).</p> -<p>Some of the poor children had never been washed for weeks, -except in walnut-water, which, by continual using, gives them the -artificial olive hue amateur gipsies admire. Those who are -sunfreckled are the hardest to tan. For a time the -sunfreckles are seen through the artificial sickly yellow colour -on their faces and hands. Some of the children told me that -they never undressed. The healthy appearance of former day -gipsies is fast passing away, and now, as a rule, they are pale, -thin, and sickly-looking. Many of the adults and children -were much pitted with the smallpox scars. They wore their -clothes till they dropped off.</p> -<p>Outside the encampment stood a number of my friends looking on -the scene, a list of whom will be found in my “Canal -Adventures by Moonlight” (p. 125), with recent <a -name="page214"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 214</span>additions -since of a number of warm-hearted friends to the cause of the -canal and gipsy children.</p> -<p>Some few of the gipsies in this encampment had been married, -and that was the only time that they had ever been inside a -church; not one gipsy, young or old, had ever been inside a -school of any kind. Schoolmasters and ministers were almost -unknown to them. They had more acquaintance with policemen -and jails than churches and chapels.</p> -<p>Connected with one of the gipsy camps of ragamuffins, I -noticed in the distance a tall, thin, unwashed, and emaciated -girl of about fourteen winters—it had been nearly all -winter with her. The upper part of her thin frame of skin -and bones was dressed in a few shreds of rags, and these were not -sufficient to cover her bare, dirty bosom, which almost looked -the bosom of a skeleton; and on her feet were odd and worn-out, -cast-off drawing-room shoes, quite equal to the sad emergency of -letting as much mud and water upon her soles as they were to keep -the poor lost creature “high and dry” out of the -muddy surroundings. She moved among the gipsies with a -“trash, trash,” and a most downcast and haggard look -of despair upon her face. “Despair” seemed to -come with terrible vengeance and prominence out of every word, -form, movement, and gesture; except when occasional relapses -stole over her, and then the tear-drawing sympathy shone and -darted like darts of fire that pierced into the marrow of my -soul, bringing the flush and blush to my face, and tears to my -eyes, whether I would have them or no. No amount of -“screwing up,” or “bottling,” prevented -this appearance upon my cheek. The poor girl had fine -Grecian features, with long, black, flowing hair, but it was -matted together with dirt and filth. With her arms -uplifted, and her hands buried scratchingly deep in her hair, she -turned to look in the direction where I lay. This was <a -name="page215"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 215</span>no sooner -done than, a flash of hope lighting up her thin face with smiles -through her tears, she started to run towards me as fast as she -could, calling out, “My father! my father! my -father!” Before I had time to turn round she was at -my side, and had planted a kiss upon my check. For a moment -I was dumbfounded. I said to the lost <i>posh</i> gipsy -child, “What is it you want, my dear? I am not your -father.” At this reply she looked wild and almost -like a maniac, and said, with her face buried in her hands, -“I thought you was my father who had come to fetch me out -from among the gipsies.” And then she looked again -into my face and said, “Arn’t you my father? my -father was so much like you. He had white hair like -you. Arn’t you my father? I wish I could see my -mother. Will she come for me?” I asked her to -sit down by my side, and to tell me who she was. She came a -little nearer, and began to tell me how it was she came to be -among the gipsies. I will give her tale as she related it -to me:—</p> -<p>“When I was a little girl about four years old, I -remember my mother sending me for some milk to a house near to -the old General Baptist Chapel, Church Street, Deptford, <a -name="citation215"></a><a href="#footnote215" -class="citation">[215]</a> and while I was going down the street -some dark ragged women—the same you saw me with—asked -me to go down to the bottom of the street to look at some fine -things, and on the way they gave me a penny and some apples and a -little doll. After walking a long way we did not get to the -bottom of the street, but we got among a lot of children living -under a cart cover by the side of the hedge. They asked me -to sit by the fire that was on the ground. I said I wanted -to go to my mother. It <a name="page216"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 216</span>was getting dark, and I began to -cry. They kept saying that they would take me to my mother, -and at night they all got into a cart, and said they were taking -me home to see my mother, father, brothers, and sisters. We -went a long way, and the way they took me was not like Deptford, -and I have not seen my mother and father since.” The -girl began to cry, and said, “I should like to see father, -mother, Polly, and Jim. It is a long time since I saw -them. We used to go to school together, Jimmy, Polly, and -myself. My father used to take me by the hand to school and -chapel on Sundays, and they did sing such nice hymns. I -have seen father and mother cry lots of times. Father used -to say his prayers every night and morning. They -don’t say prayers where I live now. Will you take me -to my father and mother? When will you take me? Take -me now, and I will give you everything I have in the world. -Please don’t go and leave me, and I will give you twenty, -thirty, forty, and fifty kisses. I will give you hundreds -if you will take me to my mother and father. I hope they -are not dead. I hope Polly and Jim are alive. Will -you take me, please, sir?”</p> -<p>I told the poor little creature that I could not take her, but -that I would send three or four gentlemen for her shortly. -At this she began to sob out loudly, “Take me! take me! -don’t leave me here!” I directed her to pray to -God for deliverance, for there seemed to be none from earth; and -with her eyes turned up to heaven she said with Sir John -Davis:</p> -<blockquote><p>“Lord! hear my prayer and listen to my -cries,<br /> -Let not Thy gracious eye my tears despise.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>To which I said, Amen!</p> -<p>Large numbers of them had been in jail. Their short -cropped hair and other symptoms told the black tale.</p> -<p>All the vans, tents, &c., were not to be reckoned as -teeming with human wretchedness, squalor, dirt, filth, <a -name="page217"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 217</span>and -sin. Some ditch and mossy bank abodes were as clean as the -circumstances would admit of, and the tent and van dwellers were -healthy-looking, plump, and clean.</p> -<p>A terrible row commenced among the gipsies over a dog, which -ended in bloodshed and murder. Right up at the far corner -two men were digging a hole about two feet six inches long, and -twelve inches wide, and two feet deep. After it was dug a -woman stole stealthily along with a heavy parcel in her arms, -covered with a cloth, which might or might not have been a dead -dog. As the gipsy woman carrying the mysterious bundle -approached, one of the men withdrew to act as a kind of spy -guard. For a few minutes he looked about, and then called -out crouchingly, and in a loud whisper, “The skies are -clear.” The woman ran with death in her arms, the -devil in her heart, and a hellish glare upon her features, and -deposited her load in the cold, cold ground without a tear or a -sigh. No mournful <i>cortége</i> or funeral knell -told the tale of what was going on. Within three minutes -all was levelled up, and the three departed—where I -don’t know; at any rate, I have not seen them since.</p> -<p>Immediately after this sad event I saw coming down the by-lane -a School Board officer, a sanitary officer, and a Christian -minister. I watched with longing eyes to see what they were -going to do. They came nearer and nearer, till they arrived -at the gate leading into the meadow. For a few minutes they -stood at the gate, which was locked. I liked the looks of -them. They looked like brothers of mercy. Their -countenances were heavenly. I felt that I could have -shouted “Glory.” I hastened to unlock the gate, -and the brothers of mercy walked in to lift the children upon the -path leading to heaven. Just at this juncture a -thunderstorm came on, and the dripping from the leaves overhead -woke me up. For a few minutes I did not know where I was, -whether in the body or out <a name="page218"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 218</span>of it. Feeling as Anna Shipton -felt when she wrote in the <i>Sword and Travel</i> for -1871:—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Thou knowest my way—how lone, how -dark, how cheerless,<br /> - If Thy dear hand I fail in all to see;<br /> -Bright with Thy smile of love my heart is fearless<br /> - When in my weakness I can lean on Thee.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>I pulled myself together to deal with sad, terribly sad, -facts, and continued my walk to Long Buckby, my midday reverie in -the land of shadows, lying between dreams and visions, being -over. On mounting the hill leading into the town I met with -a tall old man dressed in a pauper’s garb, and with a -“few slates off.” He said he had lived in a -cottage with the windows nailed up for seventy years. I -asked him how old he was. He answered, “Over -seventy.” He next turned the compliment upon myself, -and said, “How old are you?” I said, -“Fifty-one.” “Oh,” said the old -man, after looking at my once black hair, which my friends tell -me is now growing snowy white in the cause of the children, -hastened by the bleaching of hard struggles, conflicts, and -fightings, “you are older than me; I thought -so.” I said “I did not think so.”</p> -<p>There are some quaint, ancient-looking houses in the town, -evidently of the time of the Commonwealth. These are built -of stone at the bottom, mud in the middle, and brick at the top, -and they are thatched with straw and end in smoke. In the -centre of this “radical town,” peopled with -good-hearted folks, stands a very strong, tall, oak pole, some -eighty feet high, with a crown upon the top of it, which pole was -taken many years ago out of Earl Spencer’s park at -Althorp. It is known by the name of “the coronation -pole.” The original “coronation pole” was -put up when George III. was crowned, and was cut down in William -IV.’s time, owing, as one of the very old townsmen said, -“to his turning Conservative.” A man named -Hare, whom I had a chat with, helped to saw it <a -name="page219"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 219</span>down with a -“cross-cut” saw. It was sold publicly for two -pounds, and the money spent in drink in a public-house -opposite. The present pole stands some twenty yards from -where the former one stood. The massive crown upon the top -of the pole is similar to the one worn by our blessed and noble -Queen, and long may it remain.</p> -<p>In the square, and beneath the shadow of the “coronation -pole,” were some six vans, &c. In three of the -vans there were eighteen children of all ages and sizes, seven -men and women. None of the children could tell a letter, -but three of the men and women could read and write. One of -the travellers, the father of six of the children, had received -his education at the Bedford Grammar School. With these -good-hearted people I had some tea, and they gave me a cocoa-nut -to take home for my family. I gave the children some -pictures and a few articles of clothing for one or two or three -of them, and then wended my way among the feasters and -fair-goers. In the “feast” there was a woman -with a “rock stall,” who had been a Sunday-school -scholar, but was now gipsying the country with her two -sons. They slept under their stall at night. She said -she thought that God did, and believed he would, answer the -prayers of backsliders before any others, to which I said, -“Amen; He does and will.” I left her with tears -in her eyes for a gossip with Mr. “Flash” and his -dark-eyed, sharp, business wife, who with steam horses and -shooting galleries are making money fast, so that they may -“retire in their old age.” Mr. Flash’s -life, struggles, and various vicissitudes present plenty of -material for a backwood gipsy novel of the blunder-bosh kind.</p> -<p>Flash and his wife were just having a ham tea, and they -invited me to join them, which of course I did, and rubbed my -hands quickly with delight. It was a prime cut, the -frizzling and frying of which brought water to my teeth and a -smacking of my lips. I was served with tea out of <a -name="page220"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 220</span>one of -their best old china cups, which was a treat every one had not -the pleasure of enjoying. After my gipsy rambles I -thoroughly enjoyed the late tea. They showed me their -beautiful feather bed at the end of the van, and unbosomed some -of their successes and some of their trials and hardships. -I gave them a few pictures, which they said they should have -framed. They then filled my bag with “prize -onions,” and I shook hands with them, to meet again some -day, perhaps at Bagworth or Barleston, in Leicestershire, where -Flash first saw daylight.</p> -<p>Not one of this batch of <i>posh</i> gipsy travellers raised a -murmur against my plan for bringing about a free education for -the gipsy and other travelling children, and the registration of -their vans.</p> -<p>Just under the glittering crown and “coronation -pole” stood what, so far as the underworks indicated, had -been once an old fish cart, over the top of which had been placed -some half-barrel hoops, covered with old tarpauling sheets. -The outside woodwork consisted of pieces of orange boxes, packing -cases, &c., and was daubed over with paint little better than -a child would daub a pigstye door. The dirty patches and -blotches of glaring colours were laid on in an infinitely more -zigzag fashion than the trailmarks of snails and worms. The -creaking <i>door</i> was hung with pieces of leather; in fact, -the whole outside, together with the pieces of old leather -straps, and string-tied-together harness, old rags, buckets, and -boxes underneath, presented a sight that I shall never -forget. All this family of Y—ks wanted to make them -perfect gipsies was that they should pick up some gipsy slang, -Romany, learn how to eat hedgehogs, snails, and diseased pork, -tell lies, gabble out fortunes, poison fowls, choke pigs, -throttle sheep, take all, by hook or by crook, they could lay -their hands upon, wash their faces in walnut water, roll about in -mud and filth, smoke and eat “black jack,” and adopt -the gipsy names of <a name="page221"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -221</span>Smith, Lee, Boswell, Hearn, Lovell, Fletcher, Simpson, -Draper. With these gipsy traits brought out they would be -enabled to live a roving, lively, idle time of it to their -hearts’ content. So say some gipsy writers. -What a contrast, I thought, as I saw some young ladies standing -at the window of a large house looking upon the scene only a few -yards away. There a piano, played by gentle, nimble -fingers, was sending forth sweet notes of heavenly, charming -music sometimes at a galloping pace, and at other times as the -gentle murmuring of clear rippling waters over bright and glossy -pebbles, echoing love upon earth and peace and goodwill in the -air, turning the widow’s sorrowful tears, the business -parent’s troubles and care drops, into silver -stepping-stones leading onward and upward to heaven. For -the life of me I could not help showing my weakness by lifting up -my eyelids to make room for the scalding tears that wanted to -force their way down my cheeks. The wide chasm there is -between human happiness and heaven and human woe and hell is -something horrifying and horrible. Would to God that our -sensual, sensational, and degrading backwood gipsy writers could -be brought to see the mischief they are doing by dragging the -poor lost gipsies and other travellers down to utter ruin, body -and soul, for all time and throughout eternity, by their damning, -poisonous writings.</p> -<p>Inside the van, on the doorsteps, and upon the shafts of their -old tumbledown cart, there were man, woman, and five -children. The father and mother could read and write well, -but not one of the children could tell a letter, although of -school age. The eldest girl of fourteen was the picture of -beauty, though terribly thin from the crown of her head to the -soles of her feet; but alas, alas! a few rags, ignorance, -exposure, poverty, dirt, and wretchedness were trying to do their -best to spoil it. The other children, so far as I was able -to judge, were equally pretty. Owing <a -name="page222"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 222</span>to my not -being an amateur gipsy, a backwood gipsy slang and book writer, -of course I do not set myself up as a connoisseur in these -matters. The father was inside the old van stirring the -boiling “rock,” which was in an old saucepan upon a -little six-inch square stove similar to what I have seen in -cobblers’ shops before now. He was a big strong man, -apparently capable of any amount of work. The rags of -bedding were grimy, greasy, and dirty to the last degree; in -fact, soap and water did not appear to have been brought to bear -upon anything in the wretched hole. How man, woman, and -five children could sleep in such a place is a mystery. God -grant that it may be soon solved by the hand of our legislators, -philanthropists, and Christians of every grade.</p> -<p>The owner of this travelling van was an engineer and -“fitter,” and could, if he followed his employment, -earn over two pounds per week. One hundred and seventy -pounds was paid by his parents as an apprenticeship premium for -him to learn the trade; but, sad to relate, it was ending in his -boiling “rock” upon the top of a stove in the midst -of dirt and filth. This precious dainty, composed of flour, -sugar, treacle, and grease, was to be dealt out by his wife and -children by halfpennyworths to little successful popgun -firers. What an occupation and ending for a tradesman in -possession of strength, sense, and reason! He had been well -brought up by Christian parents, but got among loose company, -whose chief desire is to be unshackled and free.</p> -<p>The little gleam of light in favour of his future reform was -that he seemed to be ashamed of putting his head outside the -van. His conscience was not quite dead. May the -thundering voice of heaven ring in his ears till he cries out as -the poor prodigal did, and once more settles down again in the -neighbourhood of Thirsk.</p> -<p>The woman had been a parlour-maid for three years in <a -name="page223"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 223</span>the family -of R—, at Sowerby Bridge, in Yorkshire, where this family -hails from. She seemed a hard-working woman, and one who -tried hard to make her way, but possessed with an idea that she -should like to see some of the London gipsies. No doubt by -this time she is making her way there.</p> -<p>The hardships this poor woman and children had to pass through -during the last year are most heartrending.</p> -<p>During the whole of one month, with occasional assistance of -the father, they had pushed their van about Lincolnshire in the -depths of dark, cold, cold winter. They had no horse, and -they presented a too wretched spectacle for daylight -travelling.</p> -<p>After their day’s work of popgun-firing and -“rock”-selling at fairs, feasts, and races they put -one or two of the little children who could not toddle alongside -their van to <i>bed</i>—and bed it was—and commenced -crying, pulling and hauling their van up hill and down dale till -they got stuck fast at one of the Lincolnshire towns. By -begging, cadging, and starvation the woman managed to scrape two -pounds and some three or four shillings together, and off she -started by rail from Heckington to Spilsby fair to buy a -horse. She had left the children without a morsel of -anything to eat. Every penny had been screwed and scraped -together to make up the two pounds. She wandered about the -fair all day, but could not succeed in buying a horse for two -pounds. The horses were being gradually driven off the -ground, the poor woman had had only a dry crust to eat, sat down -and began to cry; in fact, while she was telling me her sorrowful -tale of hardship and suffering, tears rolled freely down her -face, and she kept breaking out in sobs and “The Lord love -you” many and very many times over, with such an effect -upon my poor self that I had but little rest that night. I -was quite unnerved, and emptied my pockets of what little money I -<a name="page224"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 224</span>had -among the poor little <i>posh</i> gipsy children. While the -woman was sitting in her sorrowful fix a man came up to her and -asked her what was the matter with her. The poor creature -unbosomed herself, and told him. They both there and then -began to hunt up the old horses left in the fair; finally they -met with one for two pounds—the grey old pony they had with -them standing by the side of the cart when I saw them—and -an animal it was, such as one does not see every day for bruises, -humps, and hunches.</p> -<p>At four o’clock, with darkness creeping on, and a halter -upon the pony’s head, she commenced to tramp, dressed in -rags and trashes, and almost an empty craw, from Spilsby back to -Heckington, a distance of between thirty and forty miles. -Fortunately there was a little moonlight for a good part of the -night, which enabled her to get upon the pony’s back to see -the guide-posts. Several times she took the wrong turning -where there was no guide-post to direct her, but by perseverance -righted herself again. The pony was a little lame, and she -could not ride, and on they tramped together, occasionally -resting by the road side as the silent hours of the cold winterly -night quietly and leisurely passed into the future unseen and -unknown, except such of it as has been revealed to us by the -Great Creator Himself. About two o’clock the next day -she arrived at the van door with her old grey pony, and since -then they have travelled hundreds of miles together, sometimes -pushing, and sometimes pulling along the lanes of life. I -asked her if she was not afraid to travel along the lonely lanes -and roads leading to Spilsby at the midnight hour. She -answered, “The Lord love you, I should at other times, but -I did not feel a bit afraid on this night. I wanted to get -home with the pony and to see my children, and this kept me -a-going forward. Since then,” said the poor woman, -“we’ve had a hard time of it; in fact, for the last -two <a name="page225"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -225</span>years we’ve had only six pennyworth of meat, and -six pennyworth of bacon in the van. We live on what we can -pick up, but chiefly on dry bread and tea.” She told -me herself that for more than a fortnight together she had on -only an old dress, a chemise in shreds, and a pair of old boots -to move among the fashionable and gay at the fairs, races, and -feasts. Thank God for the hope that dwells within the -breasts of these at the bottom of the social scale that brighter -days will come. Her little girls had not been undressed and -washed for weeks, as they had nothing else to put on while they -were being washed; and in this way many thousands of English men, -women, and children are drifting into damning English gipsy -customs, sins, and degrading and depraving habits, beneath, and -encouraged by, the smiles, winks, and gabble of our backwood -gipsy, gem collectors, and sentimental and sensational writers, -who do not care a straw for those whom they are enticing on to -ruin, so long as the gold and silver bits drop into their -pockets.</p> -<p>It is time we roused ourselves, and, with Mr. Ellis in the -<i>Quiver</i> for 1878, cried out at the top of our voices, and -in prayer from the depths of our whole souls—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Oh, help them, then, if ye are men,<br /> -Stretch out thine hand to save.<br /> -Let them not sink beneath the brink<br /> -O’ the surging ocean wave.”</p> -</blockquote> -<h2><a name="page226"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -226</span>Rambles among the Gipsies. Upon Bulwell -Forest. At the Social Science Congress, Nottingham.</h2> -<blockquote><p>“Not all in vain good seed I sow,<br /> -As up and down the world I go;<br /> -Scattering in faith the precious grain,<br /> -And waiting till the sun and rain<br /> -Of heavenly influence bid it grow.”</p> -<p style="text-align: right">Rev. <span class="smcap">Richard -Wilton</span>, M.A.<br /> -<i>Christian Miscellany</i>, October, 1882.</p> -</blockquote> -<p><span class="smcap">Sunday</span> morning, September the 24th, -was most lovely and delightful. The buzzing and darting -bats were not to be seen. They had retired among the ruins -of old tumbledown walls, creaking doors, and thatch. The -horrible sneaking rats had crept into their holes, ashamed of -daylight. The owl had retired to a dark, dusky nook among -the perishing barn stone walls, to sleep and fatten upon its -ill-gotten carrion and the tender bones of the sweet chirping, -variegated songsters that had been unfortunate enough to come -beneath its ravenous clutches. The bright sun was shedding -its light, tinged with a little of the autumnal golden hue, upon -our rough, rugged, and antiquated dwelling. The robin -seemed more proud than ever to <a name="page227"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 227</span>show its beautiful red breast, and -to get ready to pipe forth the praises of Jehovah from the -branches of the old yew trees near the orchard. The -swallows were darting by our windows, as if nervous about their -long flight, and anxious to have as many peeps at us as possible -before bidding us good-bye for their long journey far, far -away. Our fowls had, according to their usual custom on -Sunday mornings, gathered themselves together under the shed in -the yard to listen to the intonation of their friend -“Tom.” The sheep and cattle were grazing in the -meadows, and sheaves of golden corn stood upright in the fields, -inviting the farmers to carry them home to fill the barns of the -rich, the coffers of the banker, the empty bellies of the poor -widow, toilers in the field and brickyard, dwellers in canal-boat -cabins, and gipsy tents, vans, and wigwams. Our village -church bells had begun to ring, and my wife was, of necessity, -breaking the Sabbath by restoring with her bodkin and thread some -of my habiliments while I stood bolt upright, so as to make me -presentable at court, which process caused a twitter among our -“olive branches.” I now scraped together all -the money I could, and with my “Gladstone bag” in -hand, containing among other things my Sunday’s dinner, -consisting of a slice of bread and butter and an apple, and my -seedy-looking overcoat, turned the best side towards London, I -started to the station. The bells were chiming and pealing -soft and low, and our little folks were tripping off to church -with their curls dangling down their backs, and dressed in their -best “bib and tucker.” On the way I came upon -an Irishman sitting upon a stone minding some sheep that were -munching grass by the roadside. For his companion he had, -as the Rev. Mr. Vine says in the <i>Wesleyan Methodist -Magazine</i>, February, 1877,</p> -<blockquote><p>“Naught but the sky, the rough hewn -rocks,<br /> -Green belts of grass, and fleecy flocks.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p><a name="page228"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 228</span>To me -it seemed as if he had a small crucifix in his hand, and was -counting beads; if so, I interrupted him by calling out -“Good morning,” to which Pat responded, “Good -morning, yer honour; an’ it is a fine morning, yer -honour.” I left him in his devotion, and next came -upon a couple of dirty shoemakers from Daventry, with as much -watercress in their arms as they could carry, stolen from the -water-brook close by while the farmers were in church and the -dogs tied up.</p> -<p>I now ran against a youth from the station who was gathering -blackberries. At his feet, in the hedge-bottom, a hare was -quietly nestling. Poor fellow! he let his blackberries fall -to grasp the hare, which allowed him the moment’s pleasure -of catching its tail, but, much to the chagrin of the youth, did -not leave it behind, forcibly illustrating the case of the dog in -Æsop’s Fables crossing a plank with a piece of meat -in its mouth, which it let fall to grasp the shadow. -“Oh!” said the flushed youth, “I nearly caught -it.”</p> -<p>In the train there were several gentlemen. One was -reading the <i>Christian World</i>, and another was reading a -sporting paper. At Nuneaton I had two hours to wait for the -next train to Leicester. The interval was spent in pacing -backwards and forwards upon the platform, and in eating with a -thankful heart my Sunday’s dinner, which, not to say the -least of, was not too rich for my digestive organs.</p> -<p>I fared better than an old gipsy woman, Boswell, who, with her -daughter-in-law—a gipsy Smith from London—and their -five poor half-starved gipsy children, came to our door -recently. The old woman, Boswell, had only an outer old -frock upon her, with two or three old rags underneath. She -had no “shift” on, as she said. This family of -travelling gipsies consisted of two men, mother and -daughter-in-law, and five children, the whole of whom <a -name="page229"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -229</span>“slept under their tilted barrow” at Buckby -wharf in a hedge-bottom. Not one of this lot could tell a -letter.</p> -<p>At Nuneaton I conversed with a gentleman who gave me a little -of his history, some of which was remarkable, especially that -part relating to his courtship and marriage. -“Ah!” said my friend with a tone of sadness, “I -had the misfortune to lose my wife by cruel death, and was left -with four little children to get through the world as best we -could. It was a sad blow, sir. I don’t know -whether you have ever undergone such a trial, but my experience -of it is that it is one of the greatest misfortunes that can ever -befall mortal man, and I’ve nothing but pity for the man -who has had to undergo the sad loss. Oh! it’s -terrible, sir. After you have been toiling hard all day in -the cold rain, frost, and snow, and then to go home to find no -one to warm your slippers, or to speak a kind, soothing, and -cheering word to you, was more than I could bear. To sit -and eat your bread and butter and drink your tea alone, while the -servants and the children were playing in the streets, was enough -to turn any man into a wild animal.” I said to him, -“Certainly it is a terrible ordeal, and one that I should -not like to pass through.” “Yes it is,” -said my friend, almost in whimpering tones. “Well, -how did you get out of your sad difficulty?” I said. -“Well, sir, things went on for some months in a path in -which there seemed nothing but vexation. The servants were -quarrelling, the children were neglected, and bills seemed to be -coming in without end; and while I was brooding over these things -one afternoon, in came a minister from Derby, and he saw the fix -I was in, and that I could not get him as nice a cup of tea as -formerly; and, to help me out of my difficulty, he said, -‘My dear brother, when the proper time comes, I know where -there’s a wife that will suit you.’ ‘Do -you?’ I said to my ministerial friend. -‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I do.’ At this I -<a name="page230"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 230</span>pricked -up my ears, and he said, ‘I am going to their house for tea -next week, and if you like you shall go with me.’ -‘All right,’ I said. Nothing more passed that -evening on the subject. During the week he wrote to me, -asking me to meet him at Derby station. Of course I thought -I would go; they could not take anything of me, and I went. -In going to the house I began to get into a nervous stew. -On the way my friend said, ‘Now there are two sisters in -the house living with their mother. It will be the one with -a blue ribbon round her waist who I think will suit you. -After they have been in their room to dress for the afternoon she -generally comes out the first.’ ‘All -right,’ I said, ‘I’ll keep my eyes -open.’ At the door the mother met us, and gave us a -hearty welcome. The young ladies were in their room, and I -was playing with my fingers upon the arm of the sofa. -Presently a young lady came downstairs. Of course I had my -eyes upon the waistband, to see whether it was a blue one; but, -to my astonishment, it was green. In a few minutes the -other young lady came downstairs with the blue ribbon round her -waist. I concluded that this was the one my friend the -parson had selected for me. Tea was got ready, and instead -of entering freely into the general conversation, I kept looking -first at one and the other of the young ladies at tea, and -playing with my fingers between time. When tea was over and -the service ended, on the way home my friend the parson said, -‘Well, which of the two do you like best?’ -‘Oh!’ I said, ‘I’m not particular; -I’ll take to either of them; but as the eldest is nearer to -my age, I think I will make love to her,’ taking it all as -a joke. Nothing more was said. During the next week I -was a long way from home on business, and I ventured to write to -Deborah, telling her who I was, and what little game I was up to, -and asking her to meet me at the station to have a chat together -on the subject <a name="page231"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -231</span>about which I wrote. The young lady was, so -I’ve been told since, dumbfounded, and said to her sister, -‘Of all the men in the world I will not have him; I -don’t like him a bit. He did not at all seem to make -himself comfortable at tea. I shall not go to meet -him.’ ‘Well,’ said the other sister with -the green waistband, ‘If you don’t go I shall. -He will suit me.’ ‘Well,’ said the one -with the blue waistband, ‘if he will suit you he will suit -me, and I will go to meet him at the station.’ -Accordingly I got out of the train, so that she might know me -again, and on we went to Derby and made matters square; -and—would you believe me, sir?—in three weeks from -that time we were married.” I said, “Well, -bless me!” The rapidity of his courting expedition -almost took the wind out of me. The station bell now -rang. I jumped into the train, and as I was moving off -towards Leicester I bade my new friend good-bye; and he, in -return, waving his hand, said, “I will tell you the rest -another day, and what we saw on our wedding tour in London, -Antwerp, Brussels, Mastricht, Rotterdam, and -Amsterdam.” “All right,” I said, and we -puffed away, leaving quite a pother behind.</p> -<p>In the train were two young female “school -teachers,” who had been a “gipsying” to -Coventry by the “special” from Leicester on the -Saturday afternoon, and, whether by accident or design, they had -been left behind. I questioned them about the suspicious -circumstance attached to such a course, to which they replied, -“As soon as we arrived at the station, and found that the -train had been gone five minutes, we nearly cried our eyes -out. Fortunately we had friends in Coventry with whom we -stayed all night.”</p> -<p>I told them to be good girls and do better for the future, to -which they replied, “We will,” and I left them to -make my way down Belgrave Gate to my sister-in-law’s. -After tea we went to St. Mark’s church, and heard a <a -name="page232"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 232</span>smiling -young curate, the Rev. A. F. Maskew, preach a good, practical, -telling sermon, on the occasion of returning thanks to Almighty -God for the success that has attended our army and navy and the -termination of the war in Egypt. The Rev. C. B. — was -away on his holiday. After the service the congregation -stood up and heartily joined the choir in singing, “God -save the Queen.” To which I responded with all my -heart, “Amen! God bless our blessed Queen.”</p> -<p>Right always comes right. After service I took a walk, -with “a young lady” of some forty-five gentle summers -and hard winters at my left side, to visit the new park in the -abbey meadows. The sight was most enchanting. Few -lovers were on the walks with their arms entwined round each -other’s waists. The artificial lakes, hills, and -rockeries were seen with solemn grandeur by the aid of distant -lamps. The moving murmuringly forward of the -“soar” waters beneath our feet, as we stood on the -bridge, lighted up with silver streaks of distant lamps, and the -pealing forth of the soft, heavenly, riveting, and mesmerizing -hymns and chimes of the evening bells of St. Mark’s and St. -Saviour’s, made me feel that all the troubles, trials, -opposition, misrepresentation, and hardship I had passed through -were suddenly transformed into pleasures, leading up to the -indescribable panoramic views that appeared before my -vision. As it passed away—or, I should say, I passed -from it—another one opened up which led me on and on in -spirit to the heavenly rest and everlasting beauty in -store. The Rev. Richard Wilton says—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Let Nature’s music still the ear -delight,<br /> -And gracious echoes mortal cares allay,<br /> -Till “wood-notes” ’mid angelic warbling -cease,<br /> -And “church bells” ring us to eternal -peace.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>In a few minutes after this I was between the sheets, <a -name="page233"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 233</span>and I could -have said with John Harris, as sleep stole gently into my -room—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Hark! What is that? The spirit -of the vale?<br /> -Or is it some bright angel by the lake?”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>And the last I remember was, I was muttering over -“by” “by” “the” -“lake,” “by” “by” -“the” “the” “lake,” -“la—la,” and I was bound fast to the bed.</p> -<p>A quondam friend bade me “good morning,” and then -jumped into a “first class” to recite his -“R’s” and “S’s” so as to give -them the finishing touch correctly the next Sunday morning, while -I enjoyed the honour and pleasure of a “third.” -We arrived together at Nottingham, and I made my way to a -“temperance hotel,” not half a mile from the station, -with “first-class” appearances outside, but with -“third-class” bedroom accommodation. My room -was a “top back,” overlooking well-known old friends, -viz., bricks, tiles, terra-cotta, sanitary pipes, encaustic -tiles, &c, with a board in the corner covered with oilcloth -for a washing stand, and a tea saucer for a “soap -tray.” The bed was hard, and the blind was of a -material that needed no washing; in fact, the room was bare, -cheerless, comfortless, and cold. I strolled into the -market-place, and was soon talking to some old-fashioned -Staffordshire gipsies with short skirts, and apparently, thick -legs, heavy boots, with plenty of colour about their -“head-gear,” who, taking all things into -consideration, were not bad specimens of gipsies of the present -day.</p> -<p>After this I spent a short time with my old friend, Mr. -William Bradshaw, a name which has been well known in the midland -counties for many long years. Writing and gossiping -consumed the remainder of the day; and at ten o’clock I -mounted and climbed nearer heaven to rub my eyes again at peep -o’ day. Between four and five o’clock I was in -and out of my hard bed a <a name="page234"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 234</span>dozen times, guessing the time and -groping in the dark, for fear I might miss the train to Bulwell -Forest. At last I got so fidgety that I was determined to -get up, “hit or miss.” I dressed, and then went -downstairs to find my way out into the street; but, not having an -angel, like Peter, to open the doors for me, I had to ring and -ring and shout sufficient to awaken all in the house; if they had -been as deaf as posts, I could not have had a greater difficulty -to awaken them. At last the landlord made his appearance -with his shirt on, and his hair on an end like a frightened -ghost. Owing to my early movements, and being a -suspicious-looking customer, I had to pay my bill, and out I went -about half-past five. My train started for Bulwell at six -o’clock, and at six thirty I was among the gipsies upon the -forest. There were four vans full of gipsies of all sorts -and sizes, just turning out of their “bed;” so dirty -were they that I should not have been surprised if the -“beds” had run away with them. -“Smiths” and “Winters” were the two -prominent names. “Bless me,” I said, there are -“gipsy Smiths here, there, and everywhere.” -“Yes, you are right, my good mon,” said Mrs. Gipsy -Winter in a Staffordshire twang. In the four vans there -would be twelve adults and eighteen poor, rough, dirty, neglected -little gipsy children, not one of whom could read or write. -The policeman said to me, “The gipsies that come on this -forest and about these parts are a rough, dirty, bad lot, and no -mistake. Nowt comes amiss that they can lay their hands -upon, I can assure you.” I had a chat with Mrs. Gipsy -Winter, and told her what my object was, viz., to bring their -vans under registration, and also to give their children a free -education; to which she replied with delight, “Lor, bless -you, my good mon, I’m reight glad you big fokes are going -to do sommat in the way o’ givin’ our childer a bit -o’ eddication, for they’re nowt as it is. <a -name="page235"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 235</span>They are -growin’ up as ignorant as osses; they conner tell a -‘b’ from a bull’s foot. I conner read -mysen, but I should like our childer to be able to read and -write. Han you got one o’ your eddication pass books -wi’ yer? cause if yer han, I’ll ha’ -one.” I told her that the Act was not passed -authorizing the use of them; at which she held down her head, and -said, “I suppose we mun wait a long time fust.” -“Yes,” I said, “it will not be this -year.”</p> -<p>Mrs. Gipsy Winter had upon her finger a Masonic -ring—<i>i.e.</i>, a ring with the “square” and -“compasses” engraved upon it. Of course I felt -sure she was not a Freemason, and did not proceed to put her to -the test. There never was but one woman a Freemason, and -the reason was that she secreted herself in an old clock case -while the ceremonies were being performed in the Lodge -“close tiled.” The only way out of the awkward -difficulty was to make her a Mason forthwith on the spot, and -this—so Masonic squib and report has it—was -done. This report of “our Masonic sister” is to -be taken with a pinch of snuff.</p> -<p>I called to see a family of gipsy Woodwards who have taken a -house and are settling down the same as other folk. Those -of their children that are able to work are working at the -coalpits close by, and the children of school age are sent to -school. In the course of time they will become as other -workers, helping on the welfare of the country, and at the same -time securing their own comfort and happiness. The house -did not present the appearance of a fidgety old maid’s -drawing-room, but they are up the first steps towards it. -Time and encouragement will bring it round in the sweet -“good time coming.” “Wait a little -longer, boys; wait a little longer.”</p> -<p>It is complete bosh, nonsense, wickedness, and misleading -folly for frothy novelists to say that it is impossible for -gipsies to settle down to industrious habits and a <a -name="page236"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 236</span>regular -life. I know full well they can, and are willing, many of -them, to settle down, if means be taken to bring it about. -I will only mention one case, to illustrate many others, viz., a -gipsy I know well, who is as pure a gipsy as it is possible to -find at this late day. The good old man has had a settled -home for forty years, and goes to hard work night and morning -amongst the farmers, the same as other labourers do. Aye, -and many times he works late and early, dining at times off a -crust and a cup of cold water with a thankful heart in the -week-day, and sings God’s praises on Sundays.</p> -<p>To come back again to Bulwell Forest. After I had -visited the Woodwards I turned into a small coffee-shop to get a -cup of tea; and while I was enjoying the penny cup of tea with a -halfpenny’s-worth of bread and butter for my breakfast, the -landlord said: “One of the young gipsy rascals of the -forest came into my shop last week, and made himself too friendly -and free with some things that lay upon the table, for which I -could have put him into jail; but I did not like to follow it up, -and the lot of them have made themselves scarce -since.” Another old woman, a seller of the -<i>Nottingham Daily Journal</i>, <i>Nottingham Daily -Guardian</i>, <i>Express</i>, <i>&c.</i>, said, “The -gipsies often come into my house and want to tell me my fortune; -but I always tell them that I know it better than they can tell -me, and will have no cotter with them.”</p> -<p>I next came upon a gipsy named L—, who told me of a case -of gipsy kidnapping which took place at Macclesfield a year ago, -viz., that of a gipsy woman stealing a pretty little girl of -tender years out of the streets, belonging to a fairly well-to-do -tradesman living in the town. Although the child was -advertised for a long time, and large rewards offered, it was not -to be found, till one day a gipsy girl went to one of the shops -in Macclesfield to sell some gipsy “clothes -pegs.” The good woman of the house <a -name="page237"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 237</span>came to the -door. Although five long years had passed away, tears had -been dried up again and again, and hundreds of prayers had gone -upward to Him who hears prayers and sighs, and the child had -grown big and brown, and was dressed in rags and filth, the -mother recognized the poor gipsy child standing at her door -hawking “pegs” as her own dear little darling -“Polly.” Without waiting for the lost child to -be washed, dressed, and its hair combed, she embraced her darling -little lost daughter covered in rags with fond kisses, which told -a tale through the gipsy dirt upon the child’s face, as -only a tender-hearted, loving mother can, and straightway called -in her friends and neighbours, and said, “Rejoice with me, -for I have found this day my long-lost little darling -Polly.” A policeman was sent for, the kidnapping -gipsy woman was traced, and was sentenced to eighteen -months’ hard labour in jail for her wrong-doing.</p> -<p>I was also told of gipsies who are undergoing long terms of -penal servitude for horse-stealing, their favourite -game—sheep stand second on the list. Donkeys are very -low down upon their list, as they are not worth “shot and -powder.” “If a gipsy should get -‘nabbed’ for stealing a donkey, it would be looked -upon in the eyes of the bobbies,” said my gipsy friend, -“like stealing a horse.”</p> -<p>A whirl, twirl, puff, and a whiz landed me upon the platform -in the “Health Department” at the University College, -Nottingham, September 26, 1882, with my bags, books, and papers, -among the large gathering of Social Science magnates and doctors, -to discuss—firstly, the Canal Boats Act Amendment Bill of -1881, which I am humbly promoting; and secondly, “The -Conditions of our Gipsies and their Children, with -Remedies.” Among others upon the platform there were -Mr. Arnold Morley, M.P., Mr. W. H. Wills, M.P., Mr. Whately Cook -Taylor, Chairman, one of Her Majesty’s Chief Inspectors of -<a name="page238"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -238</span>Factories; Mr. H. H. Collins, Hon. Secretary of the -Health Department; Mr. J. Clifford Smith, Secretary to the Social -Science Association; and in the body of the hall there were Dr. -Hill, the Medical Officer of Health for Birmingham; Mr. Walter -Hazell, Mr. Russell of Dublin, and a large gathering of ladies, -“too numerous to mention.”</p> -<p>I had expected to find a large opposition force confronting -me, consisting of those who would keep the canal and gipsy -children in their present degraded condition; but, like the -Midianitish host, the breaking of my cracked pitcher had -frightened them out of their wits, and they had scampered off to -the hedges and ditches to skulk in front of me again another -day. No doubt with my papers, Gladstone bag, spectacles, -&c., I presented very much the appearance of “Mrs. -Gamp” at her speechifying table.</p> -<p>These are my papers with all their faults and living seeds, -sown and planted at the Master’s bidding, in the midst of -much toil, hardship, and persecution; which seeds will bring -forth a little eternal fruit some day—maybe, when my work -is done, and I have been called home to rest with the little -ones.</p> -<h3><i>The Condition of our Gipsies and their Children</i>, -<i>with Remedies</i>.</h3> -<p>In the year 1514 the gipsies landed in Scotland from the -Continent, and from that date to the present time we have had in -our midst over 30,000 men, women, and children with increasing -numbers, going to and from our villages, towns, lanes, and fairs, -and mixing with the simple, wise, gay, and foolish, leading the -lives of vagabonds, demoralizing all they have been brought in -contact with, by their lying, plundering, dirty, filthy, -cheating, and crafty habits. In one word, the gipsies have -been, and still are, a disgrace to Christian civilization. -Of course <a name="page239"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -239</span>there are exceptions among them, and I wish from the -bottom of my heart that there were more.</p> -<p>They live huddled together regardless of either sex, age, or -decency, under hedges, in tents, barns, or on the roadside, with -but little regard for marriage ceremonies.</p> -<p>Their food, in many instances, is little better than garbage -and refuse, and the most riff-raff of them bed themselves upon -rotten straw.</p> -<p>We have also, at this late day, with sunny education gleaming -on every hand, over 30,000 poor gipsy children of school age -growing up as vagabonds, and not two per cent. of the whole able -to read or write a sentence.</p> -<p>If our present-day gipsies had been of the romantic type of -some two or three centuries ago, as pictured to us so beautifully -by fascinating novelists, we might have wandered down the country -green lanes, and by the side of rivulets, to admire their -witchery, colours, and gipsy traits, exhibited with much refined -skill, artistic touch, and feeling by gipsy writers; but the fact -is, to state it plainly, the romantic gipsy of novels and romance -has been dead long ago, and neither the stage, romance, nor -imagination will ever bring him to life again in this -country.</p> -<p>Our gipsies of to-day are neither more nor less than ignorant, -idle tramps, scamps, and vagabonds. This I know full well, -for I have found it out over and over again, not by hearsay, but -by mixing and eating with them in their wretched abodes often -during the last five years.</p> -<p>My sorrowful experience of them forty years ago, with casual -acquaintances since, and onward to 1878, has not brought any -traits of their character, as practised by them, that any -sane-thinking, loyal, or observing man can admire, and the sooner -our legislators deal with our gipsy vagabonds the better it will -be for us as a nation.</p> -<p><a name="page240"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 240</span>Many -of the gipsies have large hearts, and are most kindly, and they -are also clever and musical. These features of gipsy life I -have witnessed myself many times. The cause of their -degraded position may be laid at the door of our Christian -apathy, legislative indifference, social deadness, and -philanthropic neglect.</p> -<p>The flickering and uncertain efforts of missionary agency will -do something towards reclaiming our poor lost wandering little -brothers and sisters, but not a tithe of what the social, -sanitary, and educational laws of the country can do.</p> -<p>In the paper I had the honour to read before this Congress at -Manchester, in 1879, I dealt more especially with the evils of -gipsy life, only referring briefly to my remedy, the substance of -which I have published in my “Gipsy Life,” and in -various forms since 1878, and onward to this date, which, with -additional suggestions, are as follow:—</p> -<p>1. I would have all movable or temporary habitations -registered and numbered, and under proper sanitary arrangements -in a manner analogous to that provided under the Canal Boats Act -of 1877.</p> -<p>2. Not less than 100 cubic feet of space for each female -above the age of twelve, and each male above the age of fourteen; -and not less than 50 cubic feet of space for each female under -the age of twelve, and for each male under the age of -fourteen.</p> -<p>3. No male above the age of fourteen, and no female -above the age of twelve, should be allowed to sleep in the same -tent, or van, as man and wife, unless separate sleeping -accommodation and suitable ventilation be provided.</p> -<p>4. A registration certificate to be obtained, and -renewable annually at any of the urban or rural sanitary -authorities in the country, for which the owner of the tent, or -van, shall pay a sum of 10s., commencing on the first of January -in each year.</p> -<p><a name="page241"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -241</span>5. The compulsory attendance at day schools a -given number of times of all travelling children, or others, -living in temporary or unrateable dwellings up to the age -required by the Education Code, which attendance should be -facilitated and brought about by means of a free educational pass -book, procurable at any bookseller’s, for the sum of one -shilling, as I have suggested to meet the case of canal -children.</p> -<p>6. The children to be at liberty to attend any National, -British, Board, or other day schools under the management of -properly qualified schoolmasters.</p> -<p>7. No child under thirteen years of age to be engaged in -any capacity for either hire or profit, unless such child shall -have passed the “third standard” of the Education -Code.</p> -<p>8. No child or young person to work for either hire or -profit on Sundays under the age of sixteen.</p> -<p>9. Power to be given to any properly qualified sanitary -officer, School Board visitor, inspector, or Government official, -to enter the tents, vans, shows, or other temporary or movable -dwelling, at any time, or in any place, and detain them if -necessary, for the purpose of seeing that the law is properly -carried out.</p> -<p>10. The Local Government Board to have power to appoint -one, or two, or more officials to see that the local authorities -enforce and carry out the Act; and also to report to Parliament -annually.</p> -<p>11. All fines to be paid over to those authorities who -enforce the Act and the regulations of the Local Government -Board.</p> -<p>12. As an encouragement to those gipsy wanderers who -cannot afford to have healthy and suitable travelling vans and -other abodes, and who desire to settle down from their wandering -and degrading existence to industrious habits the Government -should purchase common or waste <a name="page242"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 242</span>lands, or allot lands of their own -to the gipsies in small parcels upon a long lease—say for -ninety-nine years—at a nominal rent.</p> -<p>With these features embodied in an Act of Parliament, and -properly carried out by the local authorities, under the -supervision and control of the Local Government Board and -Education Department, gleams of a brighter day might be said to -manifest themselves upon our social horizon, which will elevate -our gipsies and their children into a position that will reflect -a credit instead of a disgrace to us as a civilized nation.</p> -<blockquote><p>“And shall he be left in the streets to -room,<br /> - An outcast live and wild?<br /> -‘God forbid!’ you say. Then help, I pray.<br /> - To provide for the [gipsy -child].”</p> -<p style="text-align: right">Rev. I. <span -class="smcap">Charlesworth</span>, <i>Sword and Trowel</i>, -1671.</p> -</blockquote> -<p><i>The Canal Boats Act of</i> 1877, <i>and the Amending Bills -of</i> 1881 <i>and</i> 1882. By <span class="smcap">George -Smith</span>, of Coalville.</p> -<p>In 1877 an Act was passed entitled “The Canal Boats Act -of 1877,” on the basis sketched out by me in a paper I had -the honour to read before this Congress, held at Liverpool in -1876; and also in my letters, articles, &c., which have -appeared in the lending journals, and in my works since the -passing of the Act and onward from 1872 to this date.</p> -<p>After the Bill was drawn up, and during its progress through -committee in 1877, several features were foreshadowed in the -measure which led me to fear that when passed it would not -accomplish all we so much desired, and these I pointed out to the -late Lord Frederick Cavendish, the Right Hon. W. E. Forster, Mr. -Salt, Parliamentary Secretary to the Local Government Board; Mr. -John Corbett, M.P., Mr. Pell, M.P., Mr. P. Rylands, M.P., Mr. -Sampson Lloyd, MP., Mr. W. E. Price, M.P., and <a -name="page243"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 243</span>many -others; but rather than yield to the opposition of the Canal -Association, and the loss of the Bill, I suggested that it should -be passed, notwithstanding the drawbacks that were in sight.</p> -<p>When Lord Frederick Cavendish, Mr. Price, and others, at the -fag end of the session of 1877, put the question seriously to me, -as to whether the Bill should not be massacred along with the -other innocents, I replied as follows: “Push the Bill -through Committee by all means. A piece of a loaf is better -than none. It has its defects, but if we do not get the -Bill passed this year we shall not be likely to do so next -year. Let us get the thin end of the wedge in. The -operation of the Act will be to bring about the registration of -the canal boats, to give power to the sanitary officers to enter -the cabins, to secure the education of the 40,000 canal children, -and also to prevent overcrowding in the cabins.”</p> -<p>The first step towards carrying out the Act, after five -years’ continued agitation and visits to various parts of -the country, has been fairly accomplished; and the sanitary -officers, by the power given to them under the Act, have done -good by preventing, in some degree, the spread of infectious -diseases; but the main features of the Act, viz., the education -of the canal children, the prohibition of overcrowding in the -cabins, and the annual registration of the boats, are almost -entirely neglected.</p> -<p>The following are the failing points of the Act of 1877:</p> -<p>1. The Act to a great extent is permissive. -2. Proceedings cannot be taken against the boatmen and -boatowners for evading the regulations of the Local Government -Board—the most important of all. Breakers of this Act -can be brought under the lash of the law, but breakers of the -regulations cannot. 3. The Act of 1877 is placed in the -hands of the local registration authorities to carry out, -consequently the expenses fall upon the ratepayers, and <a -name="page244"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 244</span>the result -is that the local sanitary inspectors, or registration officers, -have had but little added to their salaries—in many -instances nothing—and with strict orders not to go beyond -their town or city boundaries. Thus it will be seen that -boats plying between the registration districts, which are as a -rule between twenty and fifty miles apart, are left to -themselves. 4. Another oversight in the Act is the -non-annual registration of the boats, and consequently there have -been no fees to meet the expenses. It was intended from the -first that there should be an annual registration of the -boats. 5. The want of power in the Act to enable the Local -Government Board to appoint officers to supervise, control, -inspect, enforce, and report to Parliament upon the working of -the Act and the regulations. 6. Another cause of failure in -the Act has been owing to power not having been given to -inspectors to enter the cabins or inspect the boats at any other -time than “by day.” Boats are more or less on -the move by day, and it is only when they are tied up—which -generally happens after six o’clock—or when they are -being loaded or unloaded, that the local registration officer has -an opportunity to see or to form any idea as to what number of -men, women, and children are sleeping and huddling together in -the cabins. 7. The Act does not give the School Board -officer power to enter a boat cabin. The education clauses -of the Act have, I might almost say, entirely failed: (<i>a</i>) -owing to the indifference manifested by the school authorities at -which places the boats are registered as belonging to; (<i>b</i>) -the extra trouble they give to the school attendance officers; -(<i>c</i>) the facilities given and the chances seized by the -boatmen to get outside the town or city boundaries with their -children so as to elude the grasp or shun the eye of the School -Board officer. 8. The payment of a week’s school fees -demanded from the children who can only attend one or two days in -the week. It is not <a name="page245"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 245</span>either fair, honest, or just to -compel a boatman to pay more for the education of his children -than others have to pay. 9. Many boats in the coal -districts, with women and children on board, travelling short -distances, have escaped registration and inspection under the -plea that their boats are not used as dwellings. 10. -Another very important reason advanced by the registration -authorities why the boatmen and boatowners have not been -prosecuted for breaches of the Act is that all the trouble and -expense attending prosecutions have had to be borne by the local -ratepayers, while the fines, in accordance with the Act of 1877, -have been paid over to the county fund, instead of the borough or -local fund.</p> -<p>The Bill I am humbly promoting, and which has been before -Parliament during the last two sessions, supported by Lord -Aberdare, Earl Stanhope, Earl Shaftesbury, the Marquis of -Tweeddale, Mr. Samuel Morley, M.P., Mr. Albert Pell, M.P., Mr. -John Corbett, M.P., Mr. Thos. Salt, M.P., Mr. Thos. Burt, M.P., -and Mr. H. Broadhurst, M.P., provides a remedy for these faulty -places. 1. I would do away with the permissive features of -the Act of 1872. 2. Fines to be inflicted for breaches of -the regulations, as well as for breaches of the Act. 3. I -give under the Act the local registration authorities part of the -registration fees. I propose that the annual registration -fee should be 5s. for each boat, one half of this amount to go to -the Government, and the other half to the local -authorities. 4. The registration of the boats to be -annual. This will be a very simple and inexpensive affair, -no matter in what registration district the boat happens to be at -the time of the renewal. 5. I give under the Bill the Local -Government Board power to appoint one, two, or more officials to -visit the canals in various parts of the country, and to see to -the proper enforcement of the Act, and to report annually to -Parliament. 6. I propose that the inspectors <a -name="page246"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 246</span>should have -power to enter a canal boat at any “reasonable -hour.” 7. No child shall be employed on a canal boat -unless such child shall have passed the “third -standard.” 8. I propose that children, whom the -regulations allow to live in the cabins, should have a free -educational pass book, which would enable them to attend any day -school while the boats are being loaded and unloaded. 9. No -child under the age of sixteen to work on a canal boat on -Sundays. 10. All boats upon which there is accommodation -for cooking or sleeping to be deemed to be used as -dwellings. 11. All fines to be paid over to those -authorities who enforce the Act.</p> -<p>When the Canal Boats Act of 1877 is amended in accordance with -the lines I have laid down in the Bill, the stigma that has been -resting upon the country and our canal population, numbering -nearly 100,000 men, women, and children, during the last 125 -years, will be in an easy way for removal, without inconvenience -or costing the country one farthing, and the boatowners and -captains not more than 2s. 6d. each per annum.</p> -<p>With the proper carrying out of the Act the 40,000 boat -children of school age, not ten per cent. of whom can read and -write, will be educated, and the boatmen’s homes made more -healthy and happy; industrious habits will be encouraged, and the -country will also be made richer by increasing the happiness of -her water toilers upon our rivers and canals.</p> -<blockquote><p>“Oh, help them, then, if ye are men,<br /> -And, when thy race is run,<br /> -Turn not aside, nor think with pride<br /> -Thy work in life is done.”</p> -<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Ellis</span>, -<i>Quiver</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p>My papers passed off in the midst of smiles and kindly and -lengthy <i>press notices</i>. Editors have always been more -kind to me than I have deserved, much more than I had <a -name="page247"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -247</span>anticipated. The fact is, I had expected some -rough handling, and armed myself with a few little rough, awkward -facts. Perhaps it was fortunate for me that the majority of -my hearers were of the gentler sex. Bless their dear -hearts! Their encouraging smiles and words have helped me -through many a difficulty in pushing on with the cause of the -children. May God reward them a thousandfold.</p> -<p>The act was ended, and the curtain dropped. I therefore -“picked up my crumbs,” and bade my friends goodbye -till—D.V. and if all’s well—we meet again next -year at Huddersfield. I then made my way to the station, -and home. Upon Leicester platform I met with a few old -friends, who had pleasant greetings for me, including Mr. -Thompson, Mr. Fox, and a literary friend, the Rev. W. L. Lang, -F.R.G.S., who has given myself and the cause I have in hand many -lifts—bless him for it. Onward and upward may he -travel to the time when it shall be said, “It is -enough.” And to my many other friends who have helped -me by their influence and with their pens, I repeat the same -thing over and over again.</p> -<p>My little stock of the “one thing needful” had -begun to turn quite modest, and crept into the corners of my -pocket, so as to be scarcely felt among the keys of boxes, -drawers, cupboards, and lockers, knives, and other pocket -trifles. I took my ticket to Rugby, which left me with one -shilling. I had not gone far before my ticket was missing -out of my hand. I was in a minute “all of a -stew.” Cold perspiration crept over me. In a -twinkle, before any one could say “Jack Robinson,” my -hands were at the bottom of my pockets using their force to -persuade Mr. “Ticket” to turn up; but no! it was not -to be found. Fortunately a porter came panting after me and -asked if I had not lost my ticket. He had lifted a ton -weight off my shoulders, and I thanked him very much. At -Rugby I spent my last coin in copies of the <i>Times</i>, -<i>Standard</i>, <i>Daily News</i>, <i>Telegraph</i>, <a -name="page248"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 248</span><i>Daily -Chronicle</i>, <i>and Morning Post</i>. In nearing our old -antiquated village along the lovely green lanes, little village -children were to be seen gathering blackberries. The sun -was shining most beautifully in my face. The autumnal tints -and hues were to be seen upon the trees. The gentle -rustling wind brought the decaying and useless leaves -hesitatingly and in a zigzag fashion to the ground, as if they -were loath to leave the trees which had given them birth, before -settling among the mud to be trampled upon by tramps and -gipsies. While climbing the last hill, with a heavy heart -and light pocket, weighed on all sides with nervous hope, -trembling doubts, and anxious fears, I never more fully realized -the force of John Wesley’s hymn, as I tried to hum it -over. In soft but faltering accents I might have been heard -by the village children singing—</p> -<blockquote><p>“No foot of land do I possess,<br /> -No cottage in this wilderness.<br /> - A poor wayfaring man,<br /> -I lodge awhile in tents below,<br /> -Or gladly wander to and fro,<br /> - Till I my Canaan gain.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>The first thing that caught my eye upon my library table was a -letter from Mr. Samuel Morley, M.P., in which was enclosed a -cheque to aid in building a Good Templar hall at Northampton, -about which I had written. This was duly sent to Mr. -Hollowell, the secretary. Underneath Mr. Morley’s -letter lay one from a friend, Mr. Frank A. Bevan, of 54, Lombard -Street, enclosing a small cheque on behalf of himself, Lord -Aberdare, and a number of friends, to help me in my work, and to -provide for the daily wants of my little ones, till we arrived at -the next stile on our rough, steep, and somewhat zigzag -journey. The sight of his cheque sent a thrill of joy -through my soul, and I could not help shouting out, -“Thanks! a thousand times.”</p> -<p><a name="page249"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 249</span>Light -again dawned at eventide, and we were enabled to retire to rest -singing God’s praises as the candle flickered in the -socket.</p> -<p>In my “Gipsy Life” I have shown, among other -things which have never been mentioned by any gipsy writer -before, the following particulars. First, the cause and -probable date of the gipsies leaving India; second, the route by -which they travelled to Europe; and third, the cause of their -persecution after their arrival in England from the -continent.</p> -<p>My gipsy paper did not give universal satisfaction to -everybody outside the congress. My plain matter-of-fact -statements raised the ire of a few little narrow-souled mortals, -who had not the courage to appear in their own dress, and -borrowed other people’s clothes—<i>shooba Rye</i>, -&c.—to crouch in while they fired their popguns at -me. Just as they were trying to swallow my papers, an -article appeared in the <i>Morning Post</i>, stating that I -“knew more than any man in England about the -gipsies.” This was more than <i>O Bongo</i>, -<i>ho</i>, <i>no tïckno chavo</i> could stand. Editors -are not like most mortals, they have a perfect right to say what -they please about anybody and everybody. They and other -literary friends have been more than kind to the cause of the -children and my unworthy self, for which I thank them from the -bottom of my heart. Without their help I could not have got -along. I sent the following letter to the <i>Morning -Post</i>, bearing date October 11, 1882, relating to -“<i>Shooba Rye</i>,” <i>O Bongo</i>, -<i>hó</i>, <i>no tïckno chavo</i>:</p> -<p>“Your correspondent complains that I do not know -sufficient of the gipsies. My congress papers and my -‘Gipsy Life’ show that I know a little. It is -evident I know more than is pleasant to him, or he would not have -hastily snatched up some one else’s badly-fitting -night-dress to sally forth with his farthing candle in hand to -put a ‘sprag’ into my wheel. Such backward -movements <a name="page250"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -250</span>are too late in the day to stop the sun of civilization -and Christianity shedding its rays upon the path of the poor -gipsy child and its home.</p> -<p>“I do not pretend to know more than forty years everyday -practical observation and insight into the real hard facts of the -conditions of the women and children employed in the brickyards -and canal boats, and the dwellers in gipsy tents and vans can -give me.</p> -<p>“Two days ago I came upon a family of gipsy -‘muggers,’ father, mother, and four children, -travelling in a cart. The poor little children, whose ages -ranged from four to twelve years, were stived up in a box on the -cart, which box was 5 ft. long by 2 ft. 9 in. wide by 3 ft high, -or about eleven cubic feet of space for each poor child. -The children were all down with a highly infectious disease, -carrying it from a village, where it had been raging, to Daventry -and Northampton. I gave the children some apples, but the -poor things said, ‘We are all ill and cannot eat -them.’ None of these children could tell a -letter. These are facts and not fiction; inartistically -dressed, I admit, and without the flowers of poetical imagination -to adorn them. Knowledge gained under the circumstances in -which I have been placed, will, I think, be found nearly as -valuable in improving the condition of neglected and suffering -children as imaginative, unhealthy backwood fiction spun by the -yard under drawing-room influences and by the side of -drawing-room fires can be. At any rate, I have tried for -many long years in my rough way to look at the sad condition of -the women and children whose cause I have ventured to take in -hand with both eyes open, one to their faults, and the other to -their virtues; and also with a heart to feel and a hand to help, -as my letters, papers, and books will show to those who have the -patience to read them.</p> -<p>“I have not been content to sit upon mossy banks by the -<a name="page251"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 251</span>side of -rippling rivulets, with a lovely sun shining overhead, and -beneath the witching looks and mesmeric smiles of lovely damsels, -swallowing love and other tales as gospel.</p> -<p>“It is time the hard facts and lot of our gipsies and -their children—<i>i.e.</i>, those travelling in vans, -shows, and tents—were realized. It is time we asked -ourselves the question, ‘What are the vast increasing -numbers—over 30,000—of children tramping the country -being trained for?’</p> -<p>“The fact is this: Parliament, Christians, moralists, -and philanthropists have been content for generations to look at -the gipsies and other travellers of the class through glasses -tinted and prismed with the seven colours of the rainbow, handed -to us by those who would keep the children in ignorance and sin, -instead of taking them by the hand to help them out of their -degrading position. My plan would improve their condition, -without interfering with their liberty to any amount worth -naming, considering the blessed advantages to be derived by the -gipsies and others from it.</p> -<p>“No amount of misleading sentiment will stop me till the -case of the poor children is remedied by the civilizing measures -of the country—viz., education, sanitation, and moral -precepts—extended to them by an Act of Parliament, as I -have described in other places, which could be carried out, and a -system of free education established, by means of a pass book, -without any inconvenience or cost worth mention. Why should -our present-day canal and gipsy children be left out in the -cold?”</p> -<blockquote><p>“’Tis not the work of force, but -skill,<br /> -To find the way into man’s will:<br /> -’Tis love alone can hearts unlock;<br /> -Who knows the Word he needs not knock.”</p> -<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Richard -Crashaw</span>, “<i>Fuller Worthies</i>.”</p> -</blockquote> -<h2><a name="page252"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -252</span>Rambles Among the Gipsies at Daventry and Banbury -Fairs.</h2> -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> eleventh of October, one -thousand eight hundred and eighty-two dawned upon “Old -England” while rain was coming down too drearily, drizzly, -and freely for either man or beast to be comfortable. -Foggy, cold, and murky November seemed desirous of making its -advent earlier than usual. Not a songster was to be seen -nor an autumnal chirp heard round our dwelling. Long dark -nights had begun to creep over nature. “The last rose -of summer,” the Queen of English flowers, was drooping its -head and withering up, and the leaves were dwindling down to -nothingness. The lanes were strewn with dying leaves which -had done their duty nobly and well.</p> -<p>Through the low and heavy clouds the voice and footsteps of -children, as they trotted off with their milk tins, seemed to -echo in my ears, and other sounds to hover round me, carrying -with them a kind of hollow sepulchral sensation, telling me that -summer was dead and autumn was preparing nature for the winter -shroud, which was undergoing the process of weaving by angelic -hands.</p> -<p>The sound of the thresher’s flail was heard in the <a -name="page253"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 253</span>barn, -calling out “Clank,” “Clank,” -“Clank,” “Thud,” as it struck the corn -and barn floor, causing the precious grain to fly like a shower -of small pellets against the doors. Not a gleam of sunshine -was to be seen. Summer and winter seemed during the last -fortnight to have been struggling with each other, in the -death-throes of nature for the mastery. Genial summer had -to give way to savage winter, and little robins piped forth the -victory. Everywhere seemed cold, damp, and covered with -melancholy. As we meditated upon the surroundings, our -carrier drove to our door with his van, into which I got, and -seated myself in one of the corners almost out of sight. A -patent “four-wheeler” of this kind I had not been -used to, and our little folks did their best to try to persuade -me not to try the experiment. We had not gone many yards -before eggs, boxes, whiskey bottles, butter, and onions were -handed to our carrier for carriage and safe custody to Daventry -fair. Fat and thin women were closely packed round -me. Welton is a noted village for fat women, which may be -the result of the excellent water. While our village -blacksmith was putting some of his handiwork into the -carrier’s van, the scene brought vividly to my mind -Longfellow’s poem. He might have seen the very -spot.</p> -<blockquote><p>“Under a spreading chestnut tree<br /> - The village smithy stands;<br /> -The smith a mighty man is he,<br /> - With large and sinewy hands;<br /> -And the muscles of his brawny arms<br /> - Are strong as iron bands.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>I mumbled the verse over to myself as we jogged along. -To have repeated or bawled it out in such “close -quarters” would have been worse than putting one’s -head into a hatbox.</p> -<p>After the usual “picking up” and -“calling” we began <a name="page254"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 254</span>to slowly trot off with our -load. We had not got far before our village dames, damsels, -and companions began to indulge more or less in the usual village -gossip and jokes. Big heavy old women could indulge in -sprightly conversation as freely as if they were -“four-year-olds.” Pleasantry was exchanged as -to who was to sit next to our driver, so as to keep his back -warm. Village parsons and squires were the first upon the -programme. Then came a long rigmarole about the old maids -and maidens, poachers, slovens, slatterns, fashions, Jacks, Jims, -and Pollies. Everybody knew everybody’s business, -ranging from the death of Polly Jones’s cat to Squire -Brown’s fine horse. Good masters were passed over -with “He’s not a bad sort of man to work for, and -he’d be better if he had more to do with.” Bad -masters were mentioned with a curl of the lip, a scowl and a -shake of the head, ending with “He’s a bad ’un; -my man shouldn’t work for him at any price, if I could help -it.” Mrs. So-and-So, and Miss So-and-So were -“snappy old things,” “niggardly, mean, and -miserable;” “nobody has a moment’s comfort near -them.” “Oh!” said one, on the road, -“did you see Miss Jenny Starch on Sunday with her new -bonnet on? Didn’t she look mighty fine? -Wasn’t she a stuck-up thing? Nobody could come near -her with a fork.” “Did you see,” said -another, “the three poor little children running about the -streets this morning, almost naked, in rags and dirt? The -mother is idle, and the father drinks. They both want -horsewhipping, and if I could have my own way I would give it -them.” “Yes,” said another, “and -serve them right.” “Did you see,” said -another, “the Misses So-and-So in church on Sunday? -They looked quite pretty. When you can just catch them in -the right temper, they are so nice and pleasant. What a -thing this money is, isn’t it? Money buys fine -feathers, and fine feathers make fine <a name="page255"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 255</span>birds.” “Anybody -can be made pretty, nowadays, if they have only the money,” -said a stout dame, who had a big red face under a little bonnet, -and must have weighed little short of eighteen stone. We -were passed on the road by two “screwy” old maids -from Bonnybrook, “trotting off to market” in a green -pony carriage, sitting like Jack and Jill, one before and the -other behind, bolt upright and as still as posts, looking out of -the corner of their eyes. As we were mounting the hill -going into Daventry the question of “leaving” was -brought upon the carpet, and it came out that all of them were -satisfied with their “old masters,” and were going to -“stop again at the old wages.” I am afraid -their “old masters”—husbands—will have a -little difficulty in getting rid of them. They like the -“old shop” too well to budge. The process of -riddance, “My dear husband,” and a stream of tears -would have to be faced before they “cleared out.”</p> -<p>I had not been long in the “mop” before I was face -to face with a good-looking, but somewhat eccentric, and -good-natured popgun owner, named Mott, at one of the -stalls. One passage of Scripture after another he repeated -in rapid succession with breathless speech, until quite a crowd -gathered round us in the drizzling rain. After my -friend—who has been on the road attending fairs for forty -years—had finished his speech, his wife handed to him a -newspaper, out of which he read my letter as it appeared in the -<i>Daily News</i>, bearing date September 5th, 1882, which will -also be found in page 161. The newspaper had been given to -them by a dirty, wretched, filthy-looking family of travelling -show folks from London, whose corns and consciences had been -touched to the quick. After he had read it, and had given -it to his wife again, I expected a “rather hot -reception,” especially after a paragraph which has been -going the round of a few of the papers, to the effect that I must -look out for <a name="page256"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -256</span>trouble from “light and dark -gentlemen.” As the paper passed from his hands I -looked rather anxiously into his face to see what the effect -would be. To my surprise, the index of his soul showed -pleasure, and not anger; and in unmistakable tones he said, -“You are quite right, sir, and I thank you for it. It -is rather warm, but your object is right—there is no -mistaking that. I quite agree with your plans, and so does -every right-thinking man. The traveller’s and other -gipsy children ought to be educated. God bless you, sir, I -know what religion is; I am an old backslider. I was once a -leading member among the Baptists, but I chipped out over a -little thing, and now me and my old woman are travelling the -country in our van, and doing this sort of thing. There is -one thing I should like to say, sir; I never creep into my bed in -the van without saying my prayers to my heavenly Father. I -feel to sleep better after it. It soothes me a -little.” Tears were making their way down the -grey-haired traveller’s face; and I think it would have -been a blessed thing for him if I could have introduced him into -a Methodist prayer-meeting, as a stepping stone that would lead -him out and on to the paths he trod in the days of yore, crying -out from the depths of his soul, in the language of a writer in -the <i>Christian Life</i> for October 14th, 1882—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Thou art a rock, to which I flee;<br /> -With all my sins I come to Thee,<br /> -And lay them down, Lord, at Thy feet,<br /> -Before the shining mercy-seat.<br /> -Thou art a fortress strong and high,<br /> -To which for shelter all may fly,<br /> -Sure there to find a safe retreat,<br /> -Beneath the sacred mercy-seat.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>After shaking hands with this couple I bade them goodbye, and -gave them something to read during the dark hours of winter, -something in which are buried seeds of a <a -name="page257"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 257</span>bright -spring-time for them both, if they will only follow out the -directions given. I then strolled into the fair. I -had not gone far before I came upon an old brickmaker, and from -him I gleaned some facts showing how wretchedly the Brickyard Act -of 1871 is being carried out. After chatting with him for -some minutes he apparently took stock of my hair, which has, -thank God, grown almost white in the cause of suffering -children. Mr. Brickmaker turned quite poetical, and in -parting said—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Take stock, Mr. Knock,<br /> -That’s what I have to say, Mr. Grey,”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>and he then sidled and smiled away into the crowd.</p> -<p>I had not been long moving to and fro among the gipsies before -I learned that two gipsies, whose head-quarters were a few miles -from Daventry, were undergoing transportation, one for -sheep-stealing, and the other for horse-stealing. The -horse-stealing gipsy was caught in his own trap, owing to his -being too clever and daring. It came about as follows: A -publican and farmer a few miles from here had a fine, beautiful, -young black horse, to which the gipsy took a fancy; and it so -happened with this gipsy, as with other gipsies of this class, -that he had not too much money to spare for purchasing -purposes. An old idea ran fresh through his brain, which -was, that he could with but little trouble make the horse his -own, without money and the bother and trouble of giving back the -“shilling for luck” on the completion of the -purchase. Accordingly he sallied forth one dark night and -took the beautiful animal out of the field, not far from -Daventry, and kept it “in close confinement” for -three days to undergo doctoring, at the end of which time the -stolen horse was quite a different looking animal. The -horse now had a white star upon its forehead, and two white -fetlocks. Its tail and mane were shortened, and, with the -assistance of “ginger,” it put on <a -name="page258"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 258</span>quite a -sharp, frisky appearance. In the meantime he heard that the -owner of the horse was much in want of one. -“Now,” thought the gipsy, “here’s a fine -chance for turning money over quickly, and getting rid of an -animal that would turn ‘a tell-tale’ if kept too -long.” Consequently the gipsy mounted his steed, and -off he trotted to the publican. On arriving at the door he -called the innkeeper out to look at a horse that he had for sale, -“good, quiet in harness, sound in wind and limb, a good -worker, without a blemish, and cheap.” The publican -liked the looks of the horse very much, and he asked the gipsy to -trot him up and down the road; and off the horse bounded, -frisked, and danced about quite lively. The action of the -horse was all that was desirable, and the price -“right.” In the end the horse was sold, glasses -round given, the “luck shilling” returned, the horse -was put into the stable, and the gipsy became scarce.</p> -<p>Three days after the “white star” and “white -fetlocks” were not to be seen, and the horse began to look -“quite different.”</p> -<p>It was brought plainly home to the publican that he had bought -back his stolen horse. The gipsy was “hunted -up,” tried, and sentenced to a “long term,” -where horses are not to be had.</p> -<p>In the fair, or “mop,” there were eight vans, in -which there would be about sixteen men and women and thirty -children living and sleeping; and, so far as I could gather, only -about four could read and write, and these were adults, none of -whom were teaching their children anything that would be helpful -to them in after life.</p> -<p>Connected with one of the “Aunt Sally” -establishments there were man, woman, and three little neglected -children, with no other sleeping accommodation than a -“bottom” of straw spread under the stall, covered -with an old sheet, and warmed in the winter by an oil lamp. -The poor <a name="page259"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -259</span>woman was the picture of poverty, despair, degradation, -and misery. Their stall and “Aunt Sally” were -pushed through the country on a small “hand -cart.” The family hailed from Leicester, and were in -a most wretched, dirty, and ignorant condition. As soon as -I saw the man I thought I could recognize his features as those -of a <i>posh</i> gipsy I had seen before; and it turned out to be -true, for he was no other than a “fishman” who had -more than once carried my fish to the station.</p> -<p>In the “mop” I came across a man and woman with -four children who hailed from a village a few miles from -Daventry, and who had taken to gipsying and were singing in the -streets in the midst of mud and drenching rain—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Beautiful Zion, built above,<br /> -Beautiful city that I love,<br /> -Beautiful gates of pearly white,<br /> -Beautiful temple, God its light.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>Three of these children were of school age, but could not read -or write a letter.</p> -<p>When I questioned the man about putting the children into the -union workhouse, and the wrong he was doing to them in bringing -them up as tramps, he said “he could not help that; they -must look out for themselves as they got bigger, and help to do a -little for him.” By singing about the streets they -got him some “baccer and a little vittles.” In -1882 at the “mop” I met with a showman, named -S—, and his wife and six children, living in a wretched -tumbledown van; the small windows were broken, and rags, dirt, -and filth abounded in every nook and corner. The father had -had a religious “bringing-up” by Christian parents in -Cornwall, and for many years earned a good living in Wales as a -miner, and was a member of a Christian Church. The sharp, -good-looking woman, although dirty and dejected enough to banish -looks and spirits to the winds, waves, and realities of eternity, -bore up fairly <a name="page260"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -260</span>well under the wretched surroundings. She had, -previous to her marriage, for many years been a -“lady’s maid” in a good “religious -family,” and was well educated. The man was ingenious -and clever, and had during his spare moments and hours in Wales -made the working model of a coal-mine, which, at the instigation -of “<i>religious friends</i>,” he began to exhibit in -public. The success that attended him in the first instance -led him to think that he was on the high way to a fortune. -He acted upon the advice of his “<i>Christian -friend</i>” and others, instead of his own common sense, -and bought a van in which to place his handiwork, and “took -to the road.” A downhill one for himself and his -large family it has been ever since, and they are now gipsying, -and cursing the day upon which he took and followed the advice of -a shortsighted—to say the least—“<i>Christian -friend</i>.”</p> -<p>In giving advice, God-fearing Christian men and women above -all others should look well ahead, and to all the surroundings of -the case, before deciding the fate of a family. Advising a -parent to break up a settled home and comfortable livelihood to -tramp the country among gipsy vagabonds and tramps, I consider -little less than murder.</p> -<p>In making their way one Sunday from a village to attend the -“mop,” they got stuck fast at the bottom of a hill -with an old bony emaciated horse that would not draw “a -man’s hat off his head.” The poor little -children dressed in dirt and rags, and scarcely able to toddle, -had to set to work to drag and carry the old boards, rags, and -other things belonging to their “show” to the top of -the hill. After hours of toil, interrupted by the constant -striking and chiming of church bells on the bright autumn Sunday -morning, they were able to make another move.</p> -<p>Their show consisted of the working model of the mine, <a -name="page261"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 261</span>one of -their youngest children, nearly naked, with a Scotch plaid over -its shoulder being exhibited as a “prize baby.” -In addition it included a boxing establishment. The man had -not the build and stamina to lead the “ring,” and -they had to wait for the “millers” to pair themselves -before a boxing exhibition could take place.</p> -<p>They had not been in Daventry long before this backsliding -showman, who had taken to gipsying, was wanted by -<i>Shórokno gáiro Garéngro</i> for cruelty -to his horses. The result was that he had to “do a -month” in Northampton gaol. No doubt the poor -misguided showman would feel in his cell as John Harris puts -it—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Here bees and beetles buzz about my ears<br -/> -Like crackling coals, and frogs strut up and down<br /> -Like hissing cinders: wasps and waterflies<br /> -Scorch deep like melting mineral. Murther! save!<br /> -What shall a sinner do?”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>To which I would have answered—</p> -<blockquote><p> “Pray to -thy God<br /> -To help thee in thy trouble.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>A week or two after I saw the woman and her six children in a -most destitute condition. I gave the poor little things a -good tea and cake in my house, and subscribed my mite towards -buying them another horse, and advised them to make their way to -Aberdare, in Wales, and take to mining again, to send their -children to school, for none of them could tell a letter, and -they were growing up worse than heathens.</p> -<p>Their first venture at a showman’s life was to exhibit -the model and paintings, and they hired a donkey-cart and set off -to Aberdare. When they got there the showman wrote to me, -“I am sure you would have been amused if you had been there -to have seen us; for <a name="page262"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 262</span>when we had our establishment -erected—which, by the way, was very small—we were too -shy at first to make an appearance outside; at last we made a -resolution, and began to shout. So we found out after we -had broken the ice that we were landed. On the first night -we took enough to pay our month’s rent. This gave us -encouragement. We made a good many friends, and I became -notorious among my fellow workmen. They thought me an -extraordinary man. In three years I painted in oil colours -thirteen pictures, three feet square, of the interior of a -coal-mine and different other subjects. . . . The waxwork -show owners we had accompanied left Wales for London. -Afterwards my wife went to Bristol and bought a barrel organ, and -I had what we thought a very nice little show, and a nice van and -horse. But alas! we did not know what travelling in the -winter meant. We found very soon that we could not show -every night on account of the weather, and also found that we -could not get any credit. If we had no money there was no -bread. I shall never forget the first night we got -‘hard up.’ Dear sir, just fancy yourself going -into a large town about eight o’clock at night, and the -rain coming down in torrents in the cold January month; the -houses shining with wet, and a horse to be fed and -stabled—for we kept it in a stable then—and six -children to get a supper for, let alone yourself, and not a penny -in your pocket, and not a friend in the world to speak to or to -give you counsel. Well, that is just how we were situated -in the first January that we travelled. Dear sir, perhaps -you would say, ‘Why did you not make for your -home?’ That would have been the wisest plan, but we -thought we would endure anything rather than go back to be -laughed at. Well, after my good wife had had a good cry, we -went to the pawnbroker’s and pledged my watch, thinking -that we should be able to redeem it again in a few weeks. -We borrowed <a name="page263"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -263</span>fifteen shillings, so that with opening the show we -could be helped on for a few weeks, instead of which we met with -a worse misfortune than ever. We lost our horse at -Pontypool. We pledged our organ for £2, and then -trailed our van to Swansea for Llanefni fair, thinking we should -get money enough to buy another. More next week. The -children all send their love to you, wishing you a merry -Christmas.”</p> -<p>This man was at one time earning nearly £2 per week, and -had a good home. It will be found on close inquiry that -nearly all our present-day showmen have been in better -circumstances, and rather than be laughed at for their silly -adventures by their friends, they are content to wander up and -down the world little better than vagabonds, and to train their -children for a tramp’s life. By travelling in vans, -carts, and tents they escape the school boards, sanitary -officers, rent and rate collectors; and to-day they -are—unthinkingly, no doubt—undermining all our social -privileges, civil rights, and religious advantages, and will, if -encouraged by us, bring decay to the roots. I speak that -which I do know, from what I have seen and heard.</p> -<p>I had heard of a gipsy Smith who had settled down, and was now -residing in one of the “courts” of Daventry. I -hunted him up, and found him in a little cottage residing by -himself. The cottage was nice and clean. When I went -in I was invited to sit upon a chair. The old gipsy had -just come home with some work. He was lighting the fire, -and I said to him, “I suppose you could do very well with a -<i>Hotchi-witchi</i> just now, could you not, Mr. -Smith?” The old man turned up his bronzed face, and -with a laugh said, “I just could, my dear good -gentleman. I was looking for one this morning, but could -not find one.” I said, “Could you do with a -<i>Kanéngro</i>?” The old man replied, -“I could if I had one; but I never goes after them -now. I don’t <a name="page264"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 264</span>much care for them. I would -rather have <i>Hotchi-witchi</i>.” After a general -conversation for a few minutes, I said, “How long have you -given up travelling?” He replied, “Nearly -thirty years. I like it better now.” “How -long have you lived by yourself?” The old man’s -lips began to pucker and tears came into his eyes. After -wiping his face, he said falteringly, “It is nearly four -years since I lost my dear good bedfellow. We had lived -together over forty years. She was a good creature, and I -mean to meet her in heaven, bless the Lord. I’ve been -a bad one in my time, but I’ve given up all bad ways, and -have attended the Wesleyan chapel and the Salvation Army nearly -two years, bless the Lord; it was the best day’s work that -ever I did when I found Him.” The old gipsy now gave -me a little of his history. “My grandfather was a -Welsh gipsy, and used to attend Northampton and Daventry market -and fairs with horses and ponies, and in course of time my father -and grandfather began to travel round the midland counties and -the Staffordshire Potteries. I was born under the hedge in -Gayton Lane, between Kingsthorpe and Boughton Green. The -gipsy’s lot is a hard one, I can assure you, my good -gentleman. I’ve seen a deal in my time. I -attended Boughton Green fair for thirty years, and for eighteen -years of this time in succession I never knew two of my cousins -to leave the fair without fighting. I’ve seen murder -upon the ‘Green’ more than once. It will never -be known in this world how many murders have been committed upon -the ‘Green.’ There has been some fearful -bloodshed and rows done, I can assure you. The gipsies are -very vengeful and spiteful, if they ever take it in their heads -to be so. Two of my cousins, D— and N—, -quarrelled, when they were children down ‘Spectacle -Lane,’ over a few sticks.</p> -<p>“They parted, and never met each other again for twenty -years, and then it was at a Boughton Green fair. When <a -name="page265"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 265</span>the fair -was over they went into a field to have their old grievance out -in blows. They had not been fighting long before D— -was put senseless upon the ground. N— went to his -tent, and after a few minutes I followed him, and said to my -cousin, ‘N—, you have killed D—; you had better -be off.’ He went then and there, and has never been -took. We buried my cousin, and the day I shall never -forget. It was a day, I can assure you. I don’t -know where my cousin is now, but I have seen him lots of times -since then. The past is a blank, but I mean to get to -heaven to meet my dear good old creature. I wish I could -read; what a great pity it is that none of us poor gipsies can -read. Bless the Lord, although I cannot read I prize the -Bible, God’s book; it’s the best book in the -world.” The old man now took down a small pocket -Bible off his kitchen shelf, and clasped it to his breast and -said, “Although I cannot read I puts it in my chair when I -says my prayers, and the dear Lord blesses it to my soul and -makes me feel happy.”</p> -<p>After partaking of a cup of tea and a slice of bread and -butter in the humble “British Workman” in High -Street, I made my way to the Byfield carrier, Mr. W—, to -secure my “berth” in his cart, which was pretty -closely packed with groceries, servants’ boxes and trunks, -nails, balms, and paraffin, “chaps,” girls, and their -mothers. There seemed to be no “cousins” in our -party. I was pretty well wet through from head to foot, and -it was perhaps fortunate that we were closely packed, as by which -means I was, in all probability, prevented taking a severe -cold. At a jog-trot rate we began to move out of Daventry -at the heels of a grey horse, whose sides stuck out with fatness -and with a “coat” as sleek as a mole. Mr. -W— looked well to his steed, while Mrs. W— chatted, -joked, and chaffed with her company inside. Up hills and -down dales lay our course. Parsons and squires, as usual, -were <a name="page266"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 266</span>the -theme, in the first instance, for conversation and gossip. -The Rev. Mr. So-and-So was a very good man in the pulpit but a -bad one out of it, and a worse landlord. And they began to -enumerate cases of hardship inflicted by him. I must -confess that I should not like to be a clergyman with a large -family in a small poor parish with a small stipend, and with -“charity money” to deal out to a number of -dissatisfied, idle, grumbling poor people. A clergyman -nowadays has to mix up with the grand and fashionable, to visit -the poor, dispense charity with smiles, write any number of -letters for the parishioners, assist the sexton, take a lead in -the choir, preach his own sermons, superintend the bell-ringers, -keep the parish accounts, blow up the roadmen, visit “new -comers,” allay scandal, hush gossip, settle squabbles, be -liberal, stand insults, know everybody’s business, and know -nobody’s business. Must not pay too much attention to -young ladies for fear of trouble at home. He must be -handsome, lovely, and charming, with a rich melodious voice; hide -the faults of evil-doers occupying big pews, lecture evil-doers -in little pews; never enter a “dissenting” chapel, -give Methodists the “cold shoulder” privately, -fraternize with them publicly; take wine with the rich, be -teetotal among the poor; give the “tip-top” price for -his goods; and above all things, and under all circumstances, the -parson must never look cross. If at any time he feels angry -he must “keep it to himself inwardly and never show -it.” These are the qualifications for a minister of -the gospel according to the ideas and motives of Church dwarfs -and Sunday saints.</p> -<p>Parsons were now dispensed with, and darkness was creeping -over us as we passed by Sir Charles Knightly, Baronet’s, -beautiful estate at Fawsly. The next leading topic of our -dames and damsels was, as might be expected, the appearance of -certain ladies at the usual maidenhood <a -name="page267"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 267</span>ages. -We had not gone far before I knew most of the ages of the -“young” dames in the cart, who were much surprised to -find that I was younger than they were. “Lor bless -me!” said one, “there is no accounting for looks -nowadays, for I was talking to a lady the other day, and telling -her how young she looked, and that I wished I had as good a black -head of hair as she had; but lor and behold you, when I went home -with her, I found out that the black hair was a wig, and her own -hair was as white as mine. I never was more astonished and -surprised in all my life. I could not help but stare at -her, she did not look like the same woman, Mrs. W—; I -should not have known her if I had not known her so well, and -what had made the change. Since then I have guessed but -little at women’s ages.” We now pulled up to -allow one or two of our party to get out. Our legs had been -so crushed and mixed up with each other’s that we were -almost left in doubt as to whose legs we were standing upon, Mrs. -W— naïvely remarking, as the young damsels were -stepping down, “Now mind and see that you got out upon your -own legs; don’t run away with some one -else’s.”</p> -<p>We were now seated, and off we began to jog again. We -had not got far before the company began to ask each other if -they were “saved.” The word “saved” -is a word well known to me from childhood, and at its sound I -pricked up my ears, and began to ask questions about it. -And the answers I received were as follows: “Why, bless -you, dear sir, have you not heard of the great stir that has been -going on among the children connected with the Methodist and -Congregational chapels in Byfield? We are woke up at eleven -o’clock at night by the children singing about the streets -Moody and Sankey’s and Salvation hymns—</p> -<blockquote><p>“‘Only an armour-bearer, firmly I -stand,<br /> -Waiting to follow at the King’s command,’ &c.</p> -<p><a name="page268"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -268</span>“‘I love to tell the story<br /> -Of unseen things above,’ &c.</p> -<p>“‘Who are these beside the chilly wave,<br /> -Just on the borders of the silent grave?’ -&c.—</p> -</blockquote> -<p>and away they go all round the village disturbing -everybody. The young things ought to be in bed. The -girls have got so excited that they go about shouting and singing -in the daytime. One girl I knew went into the garden to get -some cabbages, and while she was getting them up, the devil came -to her, and told her that she was not ‘saved,’ and -the girl knelt down in the middle of the garden at dinner-time, -and there and then began to pray, cry, sing, and shout. -After a time she jumped up and said she was saved. -‘Then,’ said the girl, ‘Master Devil, I am -saved.’ Another girl went into the garden to get some -potatoes, and the good, or some other spirit, came to her, and -said that unless she was saved all the potatoes in the garden -would go rotten. She there and then stuck the fork into the -ground, and began to pray to God to save her. She had not -prayed long before she got up and shouted out, ‘I am saved! -bless the Lord!’”</p> -<p>I asked how all this was brought about, and the answer I got -was, that “The children began to sing in the streets some -hymns, and to hold children’s prayer-meetings, under the -direction of nobody but themselves; and the movement began to -spread about, and bigger folks attended the meetings, and now the -place is almost in an uproar; everybody is asking each other, or -nearly so, if they are saved.”—I kept putting in a -word for the children, bless their little -hearts!—“Tea-meetings and prayer-meetings are held, -the chapels are filled, and it is all through the children. -I don’t like so much shouting and going on in this -way.” I hope the good work is still going on, -notwithstanding the old woman’s cold water.</p> -<p><a name="page269"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 269</span>It -was now pitch dark, and we were winding our way down the narrow -lanes in Byfield to the carrier’s home, with whom and his -good wife I was to stay for the night, where we arrived -“safe and sound,” but cold and damp.</p> -<p>On the hearth there were six beautiful cats, named after her -husband’s friends. A month before this they had eight -cats; and Mrs. W— says next year she hopes to keep a -dozen. The big-hearted, genial woman is an ardent admirer -of animals. She said she never had but one valentine in her -life, inside of which were pictures of cats, dogs, rabbits, and -birds; and it was addressed to her as “Mrs. W—, Cat -and Dog Fancier.”</p> -<p>After a good warming and an excellent supper, “the good -woman of the house,” Mrs. W—, began to tell me a -little of their family history, while her good husband was seeing -to his horses, which were petted like children. My hostess -related her story as follows: “My father lived to be -ninety-four years of age, and my mother died last August at the -age of ninety-two. I have had fifteen brothers and sisters, -all of whom are dead but three. I have not been out of -mourning for sixteen years.” She now fetched the -photographs, walking-sticks, and other things of her parents, for -me to look at, and then continued her sorrowful story. -“My mother,” she said, “was a great sufferer -for some years, but she bore it all so meekly. She never -murmured once during her illness, and was always talking about -heaven. Once she said to me, ‘Why don’t you -kiss your father? He is in the room and wants to shake -hands with you; why don’t you kiss him?’ Just -before she died she called me to her and said, ‘I am going -to die, my child. I am going to your father.’ -And then she said, faintly, ‘“Come unto Me, all ye -that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you -rest.” “I will never leave thee nor forsake -thee.” My girl, trust in Jesus. Come a little -nearer to me.’ And she then whispered in <a -name="page270"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 270</span>my ear, -‘Meet me in heaven,’ and passed away like a child -going to sleep.”</p> -<blockquote><p>“What is this that steals upon my frame?<br -/> - Is it death? Is it -death?”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>Tears were now forcing their way down the good woman’s -face, and in the midst of sobs and sighs a tremulousness was -manifest, and she quietly stole upstairs to pray, and to ask -Jesus to dry her tears.</p> -<p>After she had left me I was upon the hearthstone alone. -The ring-dove, nineteen years old, perched in its cage by the -fireside, began to “coo—coo—coo;” the -cats began to “pur—pur—pur;” the dog to -snore; the kettle to sing; and the lamp shed a cheerful light -upon the whole. I stole away to rest my weary bones upon a -snowy-white feather bed, and under an extra lot of blankets and -fine linen sheets. How different, I thought, as I wandered -into dreamland, from the lot of the poor gipsy child, whose -sheets are old rags, and whose feathers are damp and almost -rotten straw, with mother earth for a bedstead, and the canopy of -heaven for curtains.</p> -<p>At seven o’clock I turned out and got my breakfast, and -with the morning dawn and a lovely sun shining in my face, I took -a stroll through the ancient village to stare at the loitering -villagers, gaze at the thatched roofs, eye over the tradesmen, to -peep at a very ancient, curious, antiquated stone upon the green, -which the roots of a huge tree were toppling over, enjoy the -feast of some beautiful scenery, and make some inquiries about -the empty house pleasantly situated in the village. I paid -my bill—two shillings—and gave the little servant and -mine hostess some picture-cards and little books, and then seated -myself in the carrier’s cart to be drawn round the village -before we trotted off to Banbury fair. Out in the way, the -nurse-girls, mothers, and children shrieked out with laughter as -<a name="page271"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 271</span>they -tossed upon their knees the round-faced, chubby, live, kicking, -squeaking balls of love, embodiments of pleasure and trouble, -singing and shouting—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross,<br /> -To see a fine lady get on a white horse,<br /> -With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes,<br /> -And she shall have music wherever she goes.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>On the way and in carts there were crowds of human beings, -pretty and plain, big and little, tall and thin, short and stout, -some dressed in silks and black cloth, some in rags and tatters; -some were smiling all over their faces, and others looked as -cross and sour as if they lived on nothing but vinegar and crabs -and slept on thorns and thistles. Lovers and haters, -pleasure-seekers and thieves, labourers, farmers, tradesmen, and -gentlemen, were hurrying helter-skelter to Banbury fair. -Some were crying, some were laughing, some were shouting, -roaring, puffing, and panting; others were in carriages, with -liveried servants as attendants; some were on horseback and -donkeyback; others were in horse-carts, donkey-carts, and -waggons; and among the number there was a little thin man of -sixty winters, standing about two feet six high with his boots -on, and by his side was his wife, about five feet high, stout, -plump, and about thirty years old. I should not be -surprised to hear that she had “not agreed to stop -again.” She was well able to carry him on her back, -as gipsies do their children, instead of which she looked down -upon him and allowed him to trudge along in the mud and -rain. She had no love for the little fellow, or she would -have carried him in her arms; in fact, she seemed inclined to -walk on the other side of the road.</p> -<p>In the throng and crush we arrived at Banbury. I paid my -fare—all the way from Daventry, one shilling and -sixpence—shook hands with my kind friends, and made <a -name="page272"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 272</span>my way into -the crowd of sightseers, gipsies, mendicants, tramps, the -fashionable, and the gay.</p> -<p>The first gipsy I met with was an old friend, “Righteous -Smith”—which name was printed on the van—and -his large family, at a cocoa-nut establishment. One of the -daughters, dressed in lively colours, was in charge of the balls, -and shouting out to the “chaps” as they passed -forward, “Try your luck, gentlemen!” and the father -shouted out, “Now, gentlemen, bowl away! all bad nuts -returned.” In response to their bewitching entreaties -some old cricketers tried their hand, and, much to the chagrin of -“Righteous Smith,” they sent the nuts “spinning -away” rather more freely than was profitable and pleasant -for “Righteous,” to the extent of putting his good -name in the shade. This family of gipsies have, I should -think, about three parts of Romany blood in their veins. -Their van was a good one, and beautifully clean, and will pass -muster when the new order of things comes about, for which I am -working night and day, and which, I am thankful to say, is -casting its shadows before it. The eight cocoa-nut -establishments were owned by cross-bred Romanies, and one or two -of the families lived in vans fairly clean. There were over -thirty families living in the vans attending the fair, in which -there would be an average of three children, one man, and one -woman in each van. In five of the vans there were two men -and two women in each. A number of those who owned small -short shooting galleries and “rock stalls” slept with -their children under the stalls.</p> -<p>From this cocoa-nut going “concern” I strolled -among the shows, bosh, nonsense, and cheap Jacks. The -introduction to one of the sparring establishments was by an old -woman screaming out, “We are just going to -begin.” By her side was a dandily dressed and painted -doll, setting herself off to the best advantage. On some -steps <a name="page273"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -273</span>between the two women there stood a man painted as a -fool, and dressed in tight indecent sparring costume. -“Darkey,” with his pug nose, short hair, low narrow -forehead, high cheekbones, deep sunken eyes, glistening fire like -a black glass bead in the centre of a white china button under -the glare of a lamp, which he frequently turned sharply, quickly, -and inquisitively to me as if anxious to know my movements. -If he had been an uncaught thief, and conscience was telling him -that I was a detective, he could not have eyed me over more -quickly and closely than he did.</p> -<p><i>Gentlemen</i> with diamond rings, poachers, and blackguards -formed the company. A ring was formed, and -“Darkey” and a “Johnny Straw” set to work -with their gloves “milling” each other, and just as -their “savage” was getting up, the curtain to -outsiders was drawn. How long the big and little fools kept -at the “milling” process I did not stay to see. -What fools there are passing through the world as gentlemen, to -be sure, to witness such debasing exhibitions with “pure -frolic” and laughter, while their money is being drawn out -of their pocket imperceptibly by idle vagabonds.</p> -<p>Not far from this “boxing establishment” there was -another “set-out” waiting for a second dose of fools, -with a “champion boxer” as a -“draw.” Money went freely into the coffers, -while the owners of stalls upon which useful articles were -exposed for sale “had a bad time of it;” even the -celebrated “Banbury cake” was “a drug in the -market.”</p> -<p>Over the door, as a sign at one of the shows belonging to Mr. -Great Frederick Little, where a nude man was exhibiting -himself—“girls and ladies not allowed to -enter”—stood two calves’ heads over a skeleton, -and what surprised me most was that the good Banbury folks and -country Johnnies could not see the satire that was being <a -name="page274"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 274</span>played upon -them. “Calves and bones” for a sign; and I -think, judging from the dejected appearance of the people as they -came out of the establishment, they felt like “calves and -bones” themselves; at any rate they did not look any the -wiser—certainly they looked sadder.</p> -<p>Turning from this concern, I was jostled into a crowd of folks -to witness a man named Turnover Snuff, Esq., dressed in best blue -cloth, with gold watches, guards, and rings, making fools of two -well-dressed innocent youths, whom he had called up from the -crowd and dressed in rags to eat buns for a prize, to be used as -a “draw,” to enable him to pass off his showy goods -under various colours, dodges, and pretexts. While the -youths were forcing the buns down their throats he was cracking -jokes, which the people, with their mouths open, swallowed as -gospel. What this “Cheap Jack” said in action, -if not in words, was, “Now, ladies and gentlemen, you see -that these two youths have come up here at my bidding, to make -fools of themselves, and to eat these buns I am forcing down -their throats, to cause you to twitter and laugh with your eyes -shut to the things that are to follow; so in like manner I want -all of you to shut your eyes and open your mouths to receive all -the lies I want to force down your throats, that I may extract -the coin from your pockets for my ‘Cheap Jack’ -articles; so we will now proceed to business, ladies and -gentlemen.”</p> -<p>There were one or two exhibitions in the fair of a good -genuine character, and the rest were “rubbish,” of -which it might be said of the performers, as a writer in the -<i>Sword and Trowel</i> for 1876 says:</p> -<blockquote><p>“See, I am as black as night;<br /> -See, I am darkness, dark as hell.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>In the fair I ran against the sanitary and local canal boat -inspector—Mr. Daniel Dixon—whom I asked to give me -his independent views of the gipsies and show-people <a -name="page275"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 275</span>attending -the fair. In company with the medical officer of health he -visited the vans, and the following particulars may be taken as a -fair sample and average of the thirty vans in the fair, in -accordance with what he says:</p> -<p>“According to promise, I forward you the particulars of -our visits to the shows and vans visiting our fair on Thursday; -and I also took a little more trouble to be along early on Friday -morning. I was certainly astonished to see the people turn -out of some of these places, some of the smaller vans turning out -the greatest number. I give you a few instances of the -number who turned out of the smaller vans. In Nos. 1, 2, 6, -13, and 19 there were 5 men, 5 women, and 22 children, making a -total of 32 in the 5 vans. Education totally -neglected. They were dirty, neglected, and uncared -for. One van was as clean as could be expected.</p> -<p>“In 1879, 40 vans visited our fair.</p> -<p>“In 1880, 50 vans visited our fair, in which there were -38 men, 32 women, and 43 children.</p> -<p>“In 1881 there were 130 persons in 36 vans. While -some of the vans were remarkably clean and well fitted up, there -were some totally unfit for habitation, and certainly ought not -to be allowed. The gipsy tribe was fairly represented, and -evidently some of them are fairly blest with an amount of -property which surprises me. There were a few surly people -who did not like our visit, and gave us unmistakable signs of -displeasure, but the majority were civil.</p> -<p>“If you can devise a plan whereby these people can -receive <i>any</i> education, you will render valuable service, -morally and religiously, to society at large.”</p> -<p>After referring to the value of the Canal Boats Act, and the -amendments I propose, Mr. Dixon said that he should be pleased to -further my efforts at any time.</p> -<p>A minister of the town writes me to say that a number <a -name="page276"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 276</span>of vans -left the town on Thursday night or early on Friday morning. -In the 15 vans he visited he found 48 children and 22 men and -women, only six of whom could read and write a little. The -rest were growing up as ignorant as heathen, and with the -exception of two of the vans, dirt and wretchedness abounded in -their <i>homes</i>. He said also that the conduct of the -gipsies and other travellers at this fair has been better than in -former years.</p> -<p>Notwithstanding the reports that have been in circulation, -enough to shake the nerves of timid folks, I am received kindly -and civilly by all the gipsies. One gipsy woman named Smith -in a jocular term said, “Mr. Smith, we have been told that -you are going to take all our children away from us and send them -to school; you will require a mighty big school, bigger than any -in the world, to hold them, I can assure you.”</p> -<p>A few yards from where we were standing there was a van, into -which I was invited to tea by the poor woman, the “mistress -of the <i>house</i>.” In this wooden tumble-down -house upon wheels, about 9 ft. long by 5 ft. wide, and 6 ft. -high, there were man, wife, and seven children in a most dirty -and heartrending condition. The youngest was a baby only -three weeks old, and was born in the van at Weedon.</p> -<p>I had a long chat with the good-natured woman. As I sat -upon an old sack at the bottom of the van, with the children in -rags and dirt creeping round me, and in the midst of an odour not -at all pleasant to the olfactory organs, I felt as if my heart -was almost ready to break at the sight of human woe and misery -before me. To say that I could have wept hot briny tears -would not convey in language telling enough the strong feeling of -sympathy that crept over me, to the extent of almost freezing the -blood in my veins. For a moment I seemed to lose sight of -everything else in the fair, and it was with some difficulty <a -name="page277"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 277</span>I could -refrain from crying out, as I stepped from amongst the poor -little forgotten and neglected children, and out of this gipsy -house, with a cocoa-nut which “Jack” would thrust -into my bag, “Good Lord! when shall these sad things and -these wretched and pitiable sights come to an end? Would to -God that the trumpet which is to bring to life the dead would -begin to ring! ring! ring! and thrill into our ears a nervous, -disquieting solo, keeping on and on till it has awoke us all -up—aye! ministers, philanthropists, Christians of every -grade, moralists, members of Parliament, cabinet ministers, and -peers—to a sense of our duty towards the little and big -heathens at our own door, before our fate becomes as that of -Belshazzar and Babylon.”</p> -<blockquote><p>“Oh say, in all the bleak expanse<br /> -Is there a spot to win your glance<br /> -So bright, so dark as this?<br /> -A hopeless faith, a homeless race.”</p> -<p style="text-align: right">“<i>Lyrics of -Palestine</i>,” <i>Religious Tract Society</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p>I answer, No.</p> -<p>No children in lovely, beautiful England, the bright star of -the West, stand so much in need of help as do our poor canal and -gipsy children, who are living outside our factory, educational, -and sanitary laws, and, with some bright exceptions, religious -influences.</p> -<h2><a name="page278"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -278</span>Short Excursions and Rambles in the Bypaths of -Gipsydom.</h2> -<p><span class="smcap">Some</span> time ago a gipsy named Shaw -was found in a Northamptonshire churchyard at midnight, asleep -between the gravestones, with his fiddle by his side. When -awakened by a wandering policeman crying out, “Now then, -move on,” gipsy Shaw grunted and growled out, -“Who’s there? What do you want, Mr. -Devil? Wake these others up; they’ve been here longer -than me, and when they goes I’ll go, and not till then, Mr. -Devil; and so make yourself scarce.” The policeman -saw, and in fact knew, that Shaw was a queer kind of customer, -and he therefore let him snore and sleep among dead men’s -bones till morning. On the following morning Mr. Policeman -met gipsy Shaw with his fiddle (<i>Boshomengro</i>) under his -arm, when he called out, “Halloo, Shaw, you’ve left -your companions behind you after all.” -“Yes,” said gipsy Shaw; “when I opened my eyes -it was daylight, and the sun was shining in my face, and I -thought over fresh considerations.”</p> -<p>At the present time the gipsies and other travellers in this -country are among the dead men’s bones of backwood gipsy -writers and their present-day sins and wrong-doings, <a -name="page279"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 279</span>with Mr. -John Bull standing by, saying in effect to the lost gipsies and -their children, “Snore on, sleep on; stick to your fiddles -and the devil; care not a straw for either parsons or -priests.”</p> -<p>If John Bull cares not, will not and won’t do for the -children of travellers the same as he is doing for other children -within his dominions, and what his Continental neighbours are -doing for theirs, it is time the gipsies themselves -“thought over fresh considerations,” and walked out -into open day, and demanded the blessings of English civilized -life in a way that will readily secure an attentive ear to the -cries and wails of their children.</p> -<p>Thank God, a few writers of tales and stories of a healthy, -interesting, elevating, and heavenly kind are coming to the -rescue of the poor gipsy, canal, and other travelling -children. May their name be Legion and their motto be -Fairelie Thornton’s lines in the <i>Sunday School -Chronicle</i>—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Direct the words I say,<br /> -Oh, let them reach the heart;<br /> -Let there be wingèd words alway,<br /> -And light and life impart.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>On my way to Edinburgh in October, 1880, to read a paper -before the Social Science Congress, upon the condition of our -gipsies and their children, I took occasion to call at Leicester -races on my way, and paddled ankle deep in mud and quagmire to -try to ascertain how many gipsy and other travelling children -there were upon the course living in tents and vans. At a -rough calculation there would be fully four hundred children and -two hundred men and women huddling together in eighty of these -wretched temporary abodes. Not a score of the children, -except a few snatches in the winter, were receiving any education -other than such as is obtained upon a racecourse and its -associations, giving and taking lessons <a -name="page280"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 280</span>in the -initiatory stage of a gambler’s life. The following -cases will give some idea of the state of morality amongst the -wandering classes. Phillips, a gipsy from Maidstone, had in -his van one woman and eleven children; Green, a gipsy from -Bristol, had in his van two men, two women, and eleven children; -Brinklow, a gipsy, had in his van two women and seven children; -Lee, a gipsy from London, had in his tent two young men, one -woman, and seven children; making a total of forty-seven men, -women, and children of all ages and sizes, huddling together in -these four tents and vans, not two of whom could read or write a -sentence. Mrs. Brinklow said her eldest girl attended a -Bible-class at Bristol in the winter, which led me to think that -the gipsy girl could read, but on inquiry I found she could not -tell a letter. Those who are spellbound by gipsy -fascination and admire the “witching eyes” of -picturesque human degradation and depravity, will consider this -in the nineteenth century a state of civilization preparing us -for the millennium, when the lion shall lie down with the lamb, -and all tears be wiped away.</p> -<p>Last autumn I visited the gipsies at Cherry Island, near -London, and found about thirty tents, in which there were between -one and two hundred gipsy children growing up worse than -Zulus. For one minute let us get inside one of the gipsy -tents in which these children are born, and in which they live -and die. It is about seven feet wide, sixteen feet long, -and where the round top is highest, is about four feet and a half -in height. It is covered with pieces of old canvas or -sacking to keep out the cold and rain, and the entrance is closed -with a kind of curtain; the fire by which they cook their meals -is placed in a tin bucket pierced with holes. Some of the -smoke from the burning sticks goes out of an opening in the top -of the tent that serves as a chimney, while the rest of it fills -the place and helps to keep their faces and hands a proper <a -name="page281"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 281</span>gipsy -colour. The bed is a little straw laid on the damp ground, -covered with a sack or sheet, as the case may be; an old soap-box -or tea-chest serves both as cupboard and table. Here they -live, father and mother, brothers and sisters, huddled up -together. They live like pigs, and die like dogs. -Washing is but little known amongst them; and of such luxuries as -knives and forks, chairs and tables, plates and cups, they are -very independent. They take their meals, and do what work -they do, squatting on the ground; and the knives and forks they -use are of the kind that Adam used, and sensitive when dipped in -hot water. Lying, begging, and pretended fortune-telling -have as much to do with their living as chair-mending, tinkering, -and hawking. The heaviest work falls to the lot of the -women, who may often be seen with a child upon their backs, -another in their arms, and a heavily-laden basket by their -side. The men lounge about the lanes and hedges with their -dogs, whilst the children grow up in such ignorance and sin as to -deserve the name of <i>ditch-dwelling heathens</i>.</p> -<p style="text-align: center"> -<a href="images/p281b.jpg"> -<img alt= -"Gipsy quarters, Plaistow marshes" -title= -"Gipsy quarters, Plaistow marshes" - src="images/p281s.jpg" /> -</a></p> -<p>The winter drives many of the gipsies to encamp in the -marshes, or in the disused brickfields near London. -Anything more dismal and wretched than this life it is hard to -think of. All the poetry of gipsying is clean gone then, -and nothing is left but filth, poverty, vice, and misery. -In Hackney Marshes and elsewhere about London you may find scores -of these tents, often so rotten that a stiff wind would blow them -away. Creeping into one of them, almost on all fours, you -find half-naked gipsy children squatting upon the ground, busy at -skewer-cutting, for which they get from tenpence to one shilling -for fourteen pounds’ weight. Or else the family is at -work in the more elaborate processes of making -clothes-pegs. One chops sticks the right length; another -trims them into shape and flings them into a pan of hot water; a -child picks out <a name="page282"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -282</span>the floating pieces and bites off the bark; and then a -bigger lad fastens the two together with a strip of tin, and the -clothes-peg is ready. So the dreary day goes by until the -lurcher dog springs up, the unfailing attendant of the gipsy man, -and the women of the family return with the scraps they have -picked up in questionable ways at back doors, and with the -proceeds of their sales. At night all lie down where they -have worked, and sleep as they are, with but a rag between them -and the bleak night of pitiless rain and snow. Here the -gipsy children are born and brought up. Here they live and -here they die, almost as far away from the track of any -day-school or Sunday-school as if they were African savages.</p> -<p>The poor wandering outcast gipsy child can say with Phineas -Fletcher in the “Fuller Worthies”—</p> -<blockquote><p>“See, Lord, see, I am dead;<br /> - Tomb’d in myself, myself my grave:<br /> -A drudge, so born, so bred,<br /> - Myself, even to myself, a slave.”</p> -<p style="text-align: center">* * * * *</p> -<p>“Ask’st Thou no beauty but to cleanse and clothe -me?<br /> -If, then, Thou lik’st, put forth Thy hand and take -me.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>Two years ago I attended a village feast in the neighbourhood -of Bedford, and found, as usual, a large gathering of gipsies and -others of a similar class plying their avocation among the -“knock’em downs,” “three shies a -penny,” &c. On arriving at the place I found -“a gipsy row upon the carpet,” and on going up to one -of the gipsies to ask him what it was all about, a gipsy some -fifty yards off, more like a madman than anything else, began to -bawl out all sorts of hard things, and in doing so other gipsies -began to cluster round us, and to all appearance I seemed to be -in a fair way for being in the midst of a “Welsh -fight.” So I said to the gipsy who was standing by -me, “I’ll go to see what he wants.” -“If you do,” the gipsy <a name="page283"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 283</span>replied, “he will knock you -down.” I said, “Then I will go to be knocked -down,” and away I went, and while I was going along the mad -gipsy was literally foaming with rage, and uttering oaths and -curses on my head not quite as thick as hailstones. On -arriving before his majesty I began to smile at him, and said as -I put out my hand to him, “Will you shake -hands?” At this he drew back a little, and said, -“What do you mean?” I said, “Lend me your -hand.” He again said, with more emphasis than before, -“What do you mean?” Ultimately he put out his -hand into mine, and the result was nothing would please him and -the other gipsies but that we must drink some ginger-beer -together. And while this was going on a gipsy from Barking -Road, London, whom I had seen before, whispered in his ear who I -was, and that I was trying to get their children educated. -So nothing would serve them but to explain in a public-house bar -how the education of the gipsy children was to be brought about, -which plan seemed to please them amazingly; and at the end of my -tale they again closed in upon me, but this time to thank and -bless me. The foremost in doing so was the mad gipsy whom I -faced in the storm, saying, as he shook hands with both hands in -a rough fashion, “I do love you, that I do, for taking so -much trouble over our children.” After similar -greetings from the others we parted. Only one out of the -large number of gipsies there could read and write, and he had -taken to gipsying from the boarding-school at the age of -seventeen, and, sad to say, neither his wife nor one of their -eight children could tell a letter; and he further said that he -was sure there was not one gipsy in a hundred who could read a -sentence. To the gipsies I would say with a writer in -<i>Hand and Heart</i>, Ah!</p> -<blockquote><p>“Mistaken mortals, did you know<br /> -Where joy, heart’s ease, and comforts grow!”</p> -</blockquote> -<p style="text-align: center"> -<a href="images/p283b.jpg"> -<img alt= -"An English gipsy -king—“krális”—lying in wait in his -palace, králisko-kair" -title= -"An English gipsy -king—“krális”—lying in wait in his -palace, králisko-kair" - src="images/p283s.jpg" /> -</a></p> -<p><a name="page284"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 284</span>In -May, 1880, I visited one of the largest towns in the midland -counties, with the object of ascertaining the probable number of -shows, vans, and other movable abodes there were in and round the -outskirts of the town, and found close about thirty. These, -together with others in various parts of the country, would in -all probability bring the number to nearly forty-five. No -doubt other counties would furnish similar results. In -showing the number of those who live in these vans I will quote -the following seven cases as a specimen. The numbers were -given to me by a man and his wife, who own and live in one of the -vans about the size of a carrier’s dray, following the -profession of “knock-’em-down.” B—, -man, wife, and eleven children of all ages and sizes; S—, -man, wife, and four children; J—, man, wife, and five -children; P—, man, wife, and seven children; B—, man, -wife, and four children; E—, man, wife, and seven children; -N—, man, wife, and five children. By these figures it -will be seen that there are forty-three children and fourteen men -and women, with four-fifths at least of English blood in their -veins, living in these seven vans. Few of these persons can -read or write. I should think scarcely half a dozen could -write their own names. In the case of the man B—, two -children could just put three letters together, and two could -just write their own names, and this was the extent of their -education. Some of the “popgun” owners I have -known personally for some years. One of the sons worked for -me, and would by this time have been earning his £1 per -week; but instead of this the whole family of twelve have taken -to this libertine kind of wandering existence, with a prospect -that does not look very encouraging, and many others are doing -the same thing. These cases are given to show what is going -on all over the country. In some instances the parents -would send their children to school, <a name="page285"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 285</span>but they say they cannot afford to -pay for a week’s schooling when the children can only -attend a day or two. It seems hardly fair to make those who -of all others should have their education encouraged to pay three -times as much as town residents, which is the case when the -children attend three different schools in one week. These -ramblers are on the increase, and it is high time they were taken -in hand. James, a man well known, and who travels with a -“ginger-bread stall,” said, when I told him my object -and what the results would be, as he filled my hand full of his -best “Grantham ginger-bread,” “God bless you, -man, for it, and I wish with all my heart it would come to pass -to morrow. Will it be three months first?” I -told him that I thought it would be a much longer time than that, -at which he shook his head, and said it was a “bad -job.”</p> -<p>The gipsies of England have nothing in the past to thank us -for, except the policeman’s cudgel and the “wheel of -fortune” in the big “stone jug.” No one -has taken them by the hand to lift and lead them out from among -the dead men’s bones and demoralizing scenes in the midst -of which they have been content with hellish delight to -revel. Thank God, a few kind-hearted friends are beginning -to notice them in their degraded condition, and to write to me on -the subject. One of the leading woollen manufacturers of -Scotland wrote to me in 1881 as follows:</p> -<blockquote><p>“<span class="smcap">Dear -Sir</span>,—</p> -<p>“I can testify to the horrible social state of the van -population at described in your occasional communications to the -<i>Times</i>. This class of people overflow in Scotland, -and for some years I have had occasion to observe their habits -and habitations. But hitherto no persons in authority seem -to take any interest in the matter, though it is one of grave -social importance. We have visits of people who live in -vans, who bring to the town such entertainments as shooting -galleries, hobby horses, and any kind of trumpery -exhibitions. These <a name="page286"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 286</span>concerns are made up of families who -pig together in their vans in a state which defies decency or -sanitary rules. Whole families house in these small boxes -upon wheels, usually in size about eight or nine feet by five -feet. One lady recently tried to converse with some -children of this class, and found they were ignorant of -everything that was good. A gentleman interviewed one of -the male heads of one family or group. He said his wife had -had seventeen children, all born in the van in different counties -of England. Within a few yards of my own door a van just -lately stood for a night, in which slept one woman and five men -or lads. The man—if he were the father—said -they dealt in horses, and belonged to Hull, and they travelled -the country living in their van, which was about eight feet by -five feet. What I complain of is that, while local -residents are made subject to various rules, educational and -social, police, and sanitary order, these people should escape -all kinds of supervision, and be literally a law unto -themselves. I can well understand the strong reasons you -have for calling public attention to such an evil.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>The Rev. John L. Gardiner, vicar of Sevenoaks, wrote me in -1880 stating the guardians in his place were thinking of moving -the authorities to take some steps for ameliorating their -condition. In 1880 I received the following letter from a -right worthy, good, and true working man living in Derby:</p> -<blockquote><p>“<span class="smcap">Dear -Sir</span>,—</p> -<p>“I doubt not but that you will feel surprised at -receiving a letter from me, an entire stranger to you; but I feel -certain that the subject which I wish to bring before you will be -a sufficient apology for my intrusion on your valuable -time. I have very recently seen in the public journals -allusions to another appeal from you on behalf of our poor gipsy -and van children, whom you are striving to reclaim from a life of -utter ignorance, and I wish you a hearty Godspeed in your noble -endeavours. I doubt not, if it could be ascertained, there -are thousands of these poor children in our land of boasted -Christianity growing up in ignorance and crime, and enduring the -greatest amount of misery that we could imagine. I have no -doubt but that a large percentage of our worst criminals emanate -from this class of poor children. When I think of these -poor outcasts, and think that they are my brothers and sisters, -made by the same Divine hand and bearing His own image, and for -whom Christ died that they should be raised up to Him, I feel my -heart burn within me, and I often pray to God that He would raise -up some one able to plead their cause.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p><a name="page287"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 287</span>Early -in 1880 a lady at Sherborne, Dorset, wrote me as follows:</p> -<blockquote><p>“I have always taken a deep interest in -them. I have again and again wished that I could help to -make them more intelligent and useful, for they are not a stupid -race. About two months since a poor young woman of this -class called at my house with a beautiful infant almost -naked. I relieved her, and inquired the whereabouts of -their encampments, which was about one and a half miles distant -from my home. I went over to see them, and I assure you my -heart yearned to do something to help to sweeten the atmosphere -of their moral life. There were youths and maidens, -children, old women and old men; but alas! I was powerless -to do anything for them.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>A clergyman of high standing, near Salisbury, wrote me in 1880 -to say that a committee of the Salisbury Diocesan Synod had -commissioned him to collect information bearing on the neglected -condition of the population accustomed for the greater part of -the year to live in caravans and attend fairs in the -diocese. “I could,” continued the worthy -clergyman, “bring before you many proofs of the wretchedly -ignorant and degraded condition of the class I am speaking of, -which have come under my own personal notice; but I know I am -writing to one better informed on the subject than any -one.” Later on the Canon wrote me stating that the -clerk of the market in Salisbury had told him that the stray -population imported into the town as traders, showmen, &c., -for an autumn fair amounted to about five hundred, and the fair -was by no means a large one.</p> -<p>Last year a clergyman at Tavistock wrote me as follows:</p> -<blockquote><p>“<span class="smcap">Dear -Sir</span>,—</p> -<p>“Your letter in yesterday’s <i>Western Morning -News</i> respecting the education of the canal boat children -reminds me of the question of the education of gipsy children, in -which subject I believe you take a very active interest. I -occasionally visit the gipsy tents and vans when they come into -this neighbourhood, and find that a great many of these people -admit that they cannot read, and others say they can <a -name="page288"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 288</span>read a -little; but I fear that the great majority of the gipsy -population are quite unable to read, and have very hazy ideas on -the great principles of religion.</p> -<p>“It seems quite a reproach to the English nation to -allow these wandering people to continue in its midst without -some efforts towards Christianizing them. Although the -subject is no doubt a difficult one, it would not seem -impracticable to get these gipsy children to attend school at -certain centres for portions of the year. I don’t -know what has been done in the matter, but I wish you every -success in your efforts for attaining this object, as well as for -obtaining the efficient carrying out of the Canal Boats -Act.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>In 1881 a leading and active county magistrate of Danbury, -Essex, wrote me as follows:</p> -<blockquote><p>“<span class="smcap">Dear -Sir</span>,—</p> -<p>“I observe that you say in your recent letter to the -Secretary of the Lord’s Day Observance Society, that the -‘extension of the principle of the <i>Canal Boats Act</i> -to all <i>gipsy tents</i>, <i>vans</i>, and other movable or -<i>temporary dwellings</i>, should be brought about by all -means.’ I should he extremely pleased to aid in this -work, for we reside near Danbury Common, where all the worst -features of the vagrant life may be certainly seen. Numbers -of little ones are daily passing before us untaught, and -suffering in health through exposure to cold and wet, versed in -arts of deception and quite inaccessible to influence. -During the severe weather lately we had several ruffianly fellows -on the common who defied interference with the most lawless -proceedings. They went about in gangs breaking up gates and -fences, and committing thefts and depredations all around the -common. Any ordinary police force is quite inadequate to -check or control them when a few reckless men chance to come -together. They carried away and broke up two pates from a -farm of mine on the other side of the common, and several -occupiers on that side suffered severely from their -violence. But all this is really of little importance -compared with the question of <i>the children’s</i> -condition of ignorance and general ill-being. I am sure -that those who dwelt <i>under tents</i> must have perished or -laid the foundation of fatal disease during the late severe -weather. It is clearly against public policy that parents -should be allowed thus to trifle with the health of their -children; and of course the same objection applies to their want -of education. There are gradations of well (or ill) being -among these poor wandering folks, as you no doubt are well -aware. Some are in comfortable vans, and earn an honest -livelihood by some handicraft—tinkering, <a -name="page289"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -289</span>basket-making; but those who possess scarcely anything -but the tent that covers them are in a miserable plight in deep -snow or in wet weather, and young children are placed in -peril. I will not weary you by enlarging on this topic, -which must, moreover, be sadly familiar to you. I desired -to assure you, as I now do, that I will do anything in my power -to extend the legislation which you have already had the -happiness of effecting to those poor outcasts who may doubtless -through England be reckoned by thousands.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>Early in the present year a Scotch Presbyterian clergyman at -Aberfeldy wrote me to say that he had been deeply impressed for -some time by the necessity there was for the State to take in -hand the gipsy and similar travellers, and had last year got the -Presbyterians of Breadalbane to petition Parliament to take some -action in the way of improving the condition of the gipsies.</p> -<p>J. T. Pierce, Esq., J.P., county magistrate of Essex, writes -me again under date October 2, 1882:</p> -<blockquote><p>“Can you oblige me by forwarding a copy of -the Bill amending your Act, 40 and 41 Vict. c. 60? I am -desirous of bringing the question of <i>registration of vans</i>, -&c., before my fellow magistrates at our next quarter -sessions. The children who dwell in small vans and <i>under -tents</i> cannot receive education under the present state of -things, and it is seldom any of them are got into industrial -schools. Possibly the magistrates of different counties -might help forward the extension of your scheme in favour of -these poor children. There is a common here on which we get -a large number of them every year, and I have had a fair -opportunity of seeing how urgent is the need of legislation, -unless the children are to remain in their present state of -ignorance and dirt. No thoughtful man can desire this, and -you have already done so much in this direction that every one -who thinks about it must wish to strengthen your hands for -further work.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>The foregoing independent statements, given by persons I have -never seen, extracted out of shoals of letters I have received, -will faintly show what is going on all over the country among our -English heathens and hell trainers; while sensual, backwood, -romantic gipsy novelists have been drawing a film over our -eyes.</p> -<p>I have received a number of suggestions as to how the <a -name="page290"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 290</span>gipsy -problem should be solved. A Scotch Presbyterian minister -suggests that the children should be sent to an industrial -reformatory; in fact, he would obliterate them with an iron hand -from the face of the earth. He goes on to say that the -recent School Act is useless for them in Scotland. They can -and do with ease evade all its requirements.</p> -<p>One kind-hearted lady, who writes to me from Brentwood, thinks -that separate schools should be built for the gipsy and other -travelling children. Neither of these suggestions are -practicable and workable: the former is too severe for English -liberty, and the latter too wild and scattered; and it would also -be too costly, and in the end it would prove a failure.</p> -<p>On October 25, 1882, I sent Mr. Mundella copies of my Social -Science Congress papers, with the hope of eliciting something -from him as to what steps the Government proposed taking in the -matter, and the following is his reply:</p> -<blockquote><p style="text-align: right">“<span -class="smcap">Privy Council Office</span>,<br /> -<span class="smcap">Whitehall</span>,<br /> -<i>October</i> 26, 1882.</p> -<p>“<span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>,</p> -<p>“I am much obliged to you for the copies of the papers -read by you in the Health Department of the Social Science -Congress on the Canal Boats Act and on the gipsy children, and I -will give the same my careful attention. I shall be very -thankful if anything can be done to remedy the evils affecting -the neglected children referred to in your papers, and to whose -interest you have given such long and faithful service.</p> -<p style="text-align: right">“I am, dear sir,<br /> -Yours faithfully,<br /> -A. J. <span class="smcap">Mundella</span>.</p> -<p>“<i>George Smith</i>, <i>Esq.</i>”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>I have thought since I took up the canal crusade in 1872, as -my letters will show, and I cannot for the life of me do -otherwise than think so now, that the Canal Boats Act Amending -Bill I am humbly promoting could be <a name="page291"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 291</span>made to include all movable -habitations and temporary dwellings. The counsel to the -Education Department, Mr. Ilbert, thought otherwise, and of -course I have had to submit to the “ruling of the -chair.” He thought that a separate Act would better -meet the case of the gipsy and other travelling children. I -am not now alone in my idea of including all movable dwellings in -my Canal Amending Bill; for since I mooted the subject in my -letters to the press and in other ways, friends have come round -to see that there is something in the suggestion worthy of -notice. Canal-boat cabins and vans are boxes in which are -stived up human beings of all ages and sizes, without either -regard for health, morals, sense or decency, packed closer than -the poor unfortunate creatures in the black hole of Calcutta -were. These moving homes are drawn, in many instances, by -animals with only one step between them and the blood- or -foxhound’s teeth. The only difference is, one home is -moving through the country upon our magnificent, black, streaky -canals, of the enormous width of about twenty feet, and an -average of three feet deep. For the size of boats and boat -cabins and other particulars I must refer my readers to my works, -“Our Canal Population,” and “Canal Adventures -by Moonlight,” and for the full particulars of gipsy tents, -vans, &c., to my “Gipsy Life.”</p> -<p>The last Essex Michaelmas Quarter Sessions, with Sir H. Selwin -Ibbetson, Bart., M.P., in the chair, was supported by between -forty and fifty leading county magistrates. The following -is taken from the <i>Chelmsford Chronicle</i>, October 20, -1882:</p> -<blockquote><p>“<span class="smcap">The Canal Act Amendment -Bill</span>.—Mr. Pierce suggested that this Bill should be -referred to the Parliamentary Committee, with a view to their -considering whether clauses should not be recommended to -Parliament to be added for dealing with gipsy and travelling -show-man life as well as canal life. Mr. Pierce spoke of -the miserable <a name="page292"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -292</span>squalor and unwholesome condition in which the gipsies -and travelling showmen lived, and said he thought it was -necessary that their children, who are absolutely uneducated, and -who number about 30,000, should be looked after. Seconded -by Mr. G. A. Lowndes. This motion was carried.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>In a leading article upon the subject the <i>Chronicle</i> -stated:</p> -<blockquote><p>“An excellent suggestion was made to the -court by Mr. Pierce. It was that they should refer the -Canal Boats Act Amending Bill to the Parliamentary Committee, -with a view to their recommending to Parliament the addition of -clauses bringing nomadic life—like that of the gipsy and -showman fraternity—within the scope of the measure. -Of gipsy life we have some experience in Essex, and we know that -it stands in sad need of regulation. Mr. Pierce stated, -<i>inter alia</i>, and on the authority of Mr. George Smith, of -Coalville, that there are about 30,000 children belonging to -gipsies and travelling showpeople, most of whom are being brought -up wholly without education. It is no less a duty to -society than to the children themselves that this state of things -should be put an end to, for we cannot hope to banish the ruder -kinds of crime, such as the vagrant classes are commonly guilty -of, without first banishing ignorance. In this view we hope -that other public bodies will follow the example, and that the -promoters of the Bill about to be brought forward will be induced -to extend it so as to embrace the gipsy and kindled -classes.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>In July, 1880, Mr. Joseph Cowen very kindly put a question to -Mr. Dodson, the President of the Local Government Board, relating -to the education of gipsy and other travelling children, and the -sanitary arrangements of their homes, and Mr. Dodson replied, -“There is considerable difficulty in dealing with gipsy -tents and vans, but the matter has been brought under the notice -of the Board, who will endeavour to deal with it when a suitable -opportunity presents itself for that purpose.”</p> -<p>The Government had their hands pretty full last -year—Ireland and the Irish at the beginning, Ireland and -the Irish in the middle, and Ireland and the Irish at the -end—nearly altogether Irish, which no one grudges to make -our Brothers and Sisters on the Emerald Isle contented, -prosperous, <a name="page293"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -293</span>and happy. God grant that her noble sons and -daughters may go ahead, and her “Moonlighters” be -swallowed up in the greater light that rules the day. This -being so, I kept myself pretty well occupied in piloting, -altering, and manœuvring my Canal Amending Bill through its -initiatory stages, and had no time to deal with the gipsy problem -other than to try “at every turn and twist” to find a -niche, nook, or a peg in the Bill upon which to hang the gipsy -question, which to me did not, and does not even now, seem at all -a difficult thing to do. The more I go into the details of -the canal and gipsy question the simpler they become. All -that is required, as in the case of the brickyard children, is to -take hold of them and to begin to deal with them in a business -fashion, as other questions are dealt with.</p> -<p>The subject is studded with prickles, but immediately it is -grasped the prickles become harmless. In the distance they -look like drawn glistening daggers, which, as you approach nearer -to them, are no more dreadful than rushes in the meadow. -Unearth the Guy Fawkes gipsy monster, and we shall soon find out -a way to deal with gipsy vagabonds and to reclaim their -children. Standing by whimpering, sobbing, and sorrowing -over the children will not pull them out of the gutter; nor will -covering them with backwood gipsy nonsense and trash make them -white. The gipsies and their children are dark and down, -and to whiten and raise them the law and the gospel must come in: -first, the law, schoolmaster, and sanitary officer; and second, -the Christian minister and the gospel.</p> -<p>In bygone days, under the reign of Elizabeth and the Georges, -the hangman’s hemp and the whipper’s thong were used -as a cure for the gipsy social evil, but with worse than no -results. Recently, in Hungary, measures of another kind -were adopted to compel the gipsies to make themselves -scarce. Innumerable complaints had <a -name="page294"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 294</span>at times -reached the chief of the police from the townsfolk of Szegedin, -in Lower Hungary, with whose portable chattels and goods the -gipsies persisted in making free. The police official was -sorely perplexed how to deal with the wandering -ragamuffins. The gipsies in Hungary, as well as in other -parts of the world, have masses of hair—our present race of -English gipsies cannot boast of the raven black hair as -formerly—so the chief of the police conceived the idea of -barbering their pates of all their locks. The gipsies were -taken into custody and the town barbers were summoned to clear -the heads of the swarthy gipsies of their present -adornments. The orders were obeyed to the letter, -regardless of either sex or age. In a few minutes the whole -tribe with pates as smooth as an ostrich’s egg were -conveyed to the town gates in a state of indescribable -discomfiture. I “guess,” as Jonathan says, they -will not for a long time visit Szegedin again. There is a -wide difference between the Hungarian authorities and the -Nottingham town authorities. Not being able to attend the -recent Nottingham goose fair, I wrote to the town clerk and the -chief constable for a few particulars, relating to the condition -of the vast numbers of poor neglected gipsy and other travelling -children who attended the borough fair. The town clerk -deigned not to descend from his high pinnacle to order a reply to -my letter. The chief constable, after some days had passed -over, said he would send me some facts, which, though I reminded -him of his promise more than once, are not yet to hand. -Gipsy children may live and gipsy children may die, but these -officials, I suppose, think that they shall go on for ever, and -in the end, as a writer in <i>The Christian Age</i> says, they -will</p> -<blockquote><p style="text-align: center">“Rest where soft -shadows lie and grasses wave;”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>at least they hope so. Full particulars of the hardships -<a name="page295"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 295</span>and -cruelties practised upon the gipsies for their wrongdoing will be -found in my “Gipsy Life.”</p> -<p>Knowing full well as I do that nothing but salutary measures -of the kind I propose, and have proposed for many long years, -will meet the case, I had again the audacity to put the question -to the Government, through Mr. Burt, with the object of eliciting -from them the steps—if any—they proposed taking this -Session for dealing with the gipsy problem.</p> -<blockquote><p style="text-align: right">“<span -class="smcap">Welton</span>, <span -class="smcap">Daventry</span>,<br /> -<i>November</i> 16, 1882.</p> -<p>“<span class="smcap">My dear Mr. Burt</span>,</p> -<p>“I shall be glad if you will put the enclosed questions -to the Government for me relating to the gipsy children. -With kind regards,</p> -<p style="text-align: right">“Very sincerely yours,<br /> -<span class="smcap">George Smith</span>, <i>of -Coalville</i>.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>The questions and answers are taken from the <i>Times</i>, -<i>Morning Post</i>, <i>Standard</i>, <i>Daily Chronicle</i>, and -the leading papers throughout the country.</p> -<blockquote><p style="text-align: center">“<span -class="smcap">Temporary Abodes</span>.</p> -<p>“Mr. Burt—To ask the President of the Local -Government Board if the Government intend taking any steps early -next session for bringing temporary abodes such as shows, tents, -vans, and places of the kind, under the influence of the sanitary -officers.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>Mr. Dodson, the President, said he would “consider -whether the law as it stood was in need of amendment in this -respect; but he could not, on this any more than on any other -subject, now give any undertaking as to the introduction of a -Bill next session.”</p> -<blockquote><p style="text-align: center">“<span -class="smcap">Gipsy Children</span>.</p> -<p>“Mr. Burt—To ask the Vice-President of the -Committee <a name="page296"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -296</span>of Council on Education if the Government intend taking -any steps early next session for bringing about the education of -gipsy and other travelling children living in vans, carts, shows, -and other temporary dwellings.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>Mr. Mundella said: “It is exceedingly difficult to -devise any effectual scheme for the education of the nomadic -population referred to in the question of my hon. friend, and up -to the present we have received no suggestion for dealing with -the subject which appears to be practical. The matter, -however, is ‘under consideration,’ and we propose -during the recess to confer with the Local Government Board -respecting it.”</p> -<p>Mr. Burt wrote to me as follows:</p> -<blockquote><p style="text-align: right">“<span -class="smcap">House of Commons</span>,<br /> -<i>November</i> 22, 1882.</p> -<p>“<span class="smcap">My dear Mr. Smith</span>,</p> -<p>“You will see from the <i>Times</i> to-day the answers -given by Mr. Dodson and Mr. Mundella. They are not so -encouraging as one would like, though it may do good to call -attention to the subject.</p> -<p style="text-align: right">“Very truly yours,<br /> -<span class="smcap">Thomas Burt</span>.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>Parliament having been opened February 15, 1883, I began to -make a move towards getting my Canal Boats Act Amendment Bill -before the House of Commons for the third time—last year it -was introduced to the House of Lords by Earl Stanhope—and -lost no time in seeing my friends Mr. Burt and others upon the -subject, some of whose names are upon the back of the Bill. -The names upon the Bill are as follows: Mr. Burt, Mr. S. Morley, -Mr. John Corbett, Mr. Pell, and Mr. Broadhurst. Feeling -anxious, and seeing no difficulty in the matter, I wrote to Mr. -Burt on March 3, 1883, about introducing a clause in the Bill to -include gipsy and other travelling children—my plans for -improving the condition of the canal children and gipsy children -being identically the same in <i>every </i><a -name="page297"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -297</span><i>particular</i> so far as the provisions of the Act -are concerned—and he replied as under:</p> -<blockquote><p style="text-align: right">“<span -class="smcap">House of Commons</span>,<br /> -<i>March</i> 8, 1883.</p> -<p>“<span class="smcap">Dear Mr. Smith</span>,</p> -<p>“If you want a new clause or any alteration in the Bill, -kindly write it out on a copy of the Bill and forward it to -me.</p> -<p>“I have seen Sir Charles Dilke, and he advises me to -talk the matter over with Mr. Hibbert. I shall do so as -soon as I can see Mr. Hibbert.</p> -<p>“I go to Newcastle to-morrow, returning on Monday night -or Tuesday.</p> -<p>“I am not hopeful that the Government will do anything -in the present state of business.</p> -<p style="text-align: right">“Yours truly,<br /> -<span class="smcap">Thomas Burt</span>.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>I added the following clause to the Bill, and at the same time -I gave under the Bill more power to the Education Department than -I had done in the previous Bills.</p> -<p>The new clause affecting gipsy children runs thus:</p> -<blockquote><p>“11. The expressions ‘Canal -Boats,’ ‘Canal Boat,’ and ‘Boat,’ -in the principal Act and this Act, and also in the regulations of -the Local Government Board and Education Department, shall -include all travelling and temporary dwellings not rated for the -relief of the poor.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>I forwarded copies of the Amended Bill to Sir Charles Dilke, -the new President of the Local Government Board, and also to Mr. -Mundella, the Vice President of the Committee of Council on -Education, and here are their replies. A few days -previously I had written to Sir Charles Dilke and Mr. Mundella, -urging them to take up the Bill; in fact, I have for years been -pressing the Government to take up the Bill, as one that will do -much good and bring them much credit. Of course I cannot -expect them to do impossibilities. I know their hands are -full; at the same time the period has come when the sixty -thousand canal and <a name="page298"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -298</span>gipsy children must be educated and cared for by -“hook or by crook,” as being of primary importance -for the country’s welfare to the thousand and one things -that are now before Parliament.</p> -<blockquote><p style="text-align: right">“<span -class="smcap">Local Government Board</span>, <span -class="smcap">Whitehall</span>,<br /> -<i>March</i> 14, 1883.</p> -<p>“<span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>,</p> -<p>“I have to thank you for the copy of the Bill you have -sent to Sir Charles Dilke. In consequence of Mr. Ashton -Dilke’s death he will not be present in the House of -Commons this week.</p> -<p style="text-align: right">“Yours truly,<br /> -A. E. C. <span class="smcap">Bodley</span>.</p> -<p>“<i>George Smith</i>, <i>Esq.</i>”</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<blockquote><p style="text-align: right">“<span -class="smcap">Privy Council Office</span>,<br /> -<i>March</i> 14, 1883.</p> -<p>“<span class="smcap">Sir</span>,</p> -<p>“Mr. Mundella desires me to thank you for sending him a -copy of your Canal Boats Act Amendment Bill enclosed in your -letter of the 12th inst.</p> -<p style="text-align: right">“Yours faithfully,<br /> -H. T. <span class="smcap">Bryant</span>.</p> -<p>“<i>George Smith</i>, <i>Esq.</i>”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>My days of hard work, and scores of letters written in -relation to the questions put to Mr. Dodson and Mr. Mundella, -have brought forth the usual molehill of “under -consideration.” The political fields of moral and -social progress are full of crotchets and molehills. Would -to God that either John Bull with his horns or John Straw with -his spade would level them to the ground.</p> -<p>At any rate those mountainous molehills, six inches high, -which are checking the van of social progress, laden as it -is—aye, heaped up—with blessings for the thirty -thousand poor little gipsy children who are starving to death in -our midst, in the mud, rotten straw, filth, and rags of a -soul-perishing and body-killing nature, amidst which the poor -gipsy child has to live.</p> -<p>The greatest difficulties I know of are the dung heaps -scattered about by sensational trash backwood gipsy <a -name="page299"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -299</span>writers. I can almost imagine our imported and -other Demetriuses and damsels calling out on the steps of St. -Stephen’s, Westminster, “Sirs, ye know that by this -craft we have our wealth.” “Paul hath persuaded -and turned away much people.” “Our craft is in -danger to be set at nought.” “Let us hang the -devil.”</p> -<p>The registration official overcomes “difficulties” -when he registers a gipsy hawker’s van in order that he may -extract £4 from him; and the policeman overcomes -“difficulties” when he brings to bay before a bench -of magistrates a gipsy child for stealing a turnip, or a gipsy -poacher for making too free with a partridge. There are -seas of “difficulties” to be waded through, it would -seem, before the gipsy children are to be led to the school -doors, and the sanitary inspectors to their suffocating, immoral, -and unhealthy homes. It is un-English, wicked, and unjust -to deliver the gipsy and other travelling children over to the -policeman, without ever having taught them to know right from -wrong in day and Sunday schools. A terrible day of -reckoning and vengeance awaits us for our wrongdoings towards our -present-day English gipsy children, think about it as lightly as -we may.</p> -<p>The sanitary inspector steps into lodging-houses to prevent -overcrowding. The factory inspector steps, without an -invitation, into the workshop to prohibit the overworking of -children. The Board of Trade officer will not allow -overcrowding of ships, although they may be classed as A1 at -Lloyd’s. Overcrowding in barracks and workhouses is -not allowed, and the School Board officer steps into a -labourer’s household—the head of which, with a large -family surrounding him, only earns about 12s. per -week—under pain of a fine and the -“squire’s” displeasure, and orders the young -urchins off “neck and crop” to school; while canal -and gipsy children are left out in the cold.</p> -<p>Two years ago I invited twelve gipsy children, who were <a -name="page300"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 300</span>living in -two vans and attending our feast, to tea on our -hearthstone. Although three of the parents could read and -write, and ten of the children were of school age, not one of the -poor little things could tell a letter. All the -van-dwellers were in the lowest depths of degradation, filth, and -misery. They were surrounded with sunshine, and yet it -never entered their wretched dwelling; at any rate they never -opened their door with glad hearts and thankful song to receive -its cheering rays.</p> -<p>The chimes and music of church bells seemed to have no other -effect upon their lives than the bringing forth of the cries of -misery, wails of anguish, and groans of despair. The -beautiful robes with which nature was clothed made their ragged, -wretched torn garments look as if they had been pulled to pieces, -torn and stuck together by demons who had thrown off all moral -restraint, and were following the downward tendencies of human -nature to their hearts’ content. Three of the parents -once had a comfortable settled home, but alas! alas! it seems to -be all over, and a blacker future for the children awaits them, -if the Government do not take the poor things by the hand and -lead them a step forwards and upwards.</p> -<p>At the close of 1882 I visited, on a Sunday afternoon, a camp -of gipsies upon Turnham Green. There were five vans and -tents, and fourteen men and women and seventeen children -squatting round their fires upon the wet and slushy grass. -As I neared them, five of the gipsy children, half naked, came -running towards me. One little curly-headed fellow, named -Boswell, shouted out, “If you please, guv’-nor, have -you come to teach us to read, the same as a kind lady did last -summer? We wish you would. Have you brought us any -picture books? Please read a bit to us.” After -a few minutes chat with them, I emptied my bag of cards, and with -a sorrowful heart left the gipsy children in their ignorance to -speed their wishes into the air, so it <a -name="page301"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -301</span>appears. With a writer in the <i>Sunday -Magazine</i>, I say with a deep, deep-drawn sigh—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Oh the wandering waifs and strays,<br /> -In hiding day and night,<br /> -And lacking verdant shelter,<br /> -On their lives a blight;<br /> -Aye, creeping far and farther<br /> -From the eyes of men;<br /> -If they find a lodging,<br /> -’Tis in some horrid den!”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>A little later on I went to Daventry and found a man—a -tradesman—in the market-place, exhibiting a deformed pony -rather than follow his own trade. Both man and wife could -read and write—in fact, the woman had once been a -Sunday-school teacher—but not one of their five children -could read a sentence.</p> -<p>Only the other day, our good vicar’s respected wife, -Mrs. Darnell, in company with her niece, Miss Stansfeld, took -shelter in a cottage, rather than face two most repulsive-looking -men and one woman with seven children, who were tramping the -country in a most wretched and forlorn condition. Their -only home consisted in an old handcart full of rags, upon which -were perched, on a most bitterly cold and wet day, three poor -gipsy children; and the other four children were trudging by the -side of the hand-cart scarcely able to get one foot before the -other. Their shoeless footprints seemed to cry out loud for -help. Many gipsies camp upon Cannock Chase from time to -time, and such is their character that people passing that way in -dark hours generally take the precaution to be armed with -pistols, and to have dogs by their sides.</p> -<p>Think about it lightly as we may, the evils of gipsying are on -the increase in this country. Fortune-telling and deceit -are taking fast hold upon the “silly girls and young -chaps.” Very recently the <i>Daily News</i> reported -a case in Dorsetshire where two gipsy women induced a <a -name="page302"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -302</span>dairyman’s wife to part with her sovereigns for a -sheep’s heart studded with pins in mystic patterns outside, -and crammed inside with bright farthings. The heart was to -be hung in the chimney till Easter, when it was to be taken out -and all the farthings to be turned into sovereigns. The -woman’s husband broke the “spell” by pulling -the heart out of the chimney before Easter. The -<i>Graphic</i>, in the spring of 1882, reports a case of a -“white witch” at Plymouth, who declared that the -whole crew of a smack were under a “spell”—and -the crew believed it—which “spell” only the -gipsy witch could remove, and of course for money only. The -<i>British Workman</i> for October, 1882, shows a little of some -of the evils of fortune-telling. At the Bradford county -police-court recently, Delia Young, a gipsy, was charged with -fortune-telling. For some weeks the prisoner, with a number -of other gipsies, had been staying at a village named Wyke, and -hundreds of persons of all ages and both sexes had visited -her. Her fees ranged from ls. to 5s., the latter sum being -charged when a “planet was ruled.” It was -stated that her earnings must have averaged several guineas a day -for many months. For the defence it was contended that the -prisoner and her family had told fortunes at Blackpool during the -season for twenty years. She was fined £5 and costs, -with the alternative of two months’ imprisonment. The -money was paid.</p> -<p>I have visited more than once the gipsies upon Plaistow -marshes in company with Mr. —, and also with my son, and -found about thirty families squatting about in their vans and -tents, up to their knees in mud, and in a most heartrending -condition. Farmers house their pigs in a much better -condition than we found the poor lost gipsies tented and -housed. Gipsy children came round us by the score. -There would be not fewer than between a hundred and a hundred and -fifty poor little <a name="page303"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -303</span>creatures, growing up without ever visiting either the -school or the church, although there were a magnificent school -and church within a stone’s throw. The sanitary -inspector, school board officer, and Christian ministers were -unknown to those wretched, lost gipsy children. They are -fully acquainted with the policeman and his doings. In one -or two of the vans smallpox and fever appeared to me to be at -work. Round the outskirts of London there will be nearly -3,000 gipsies tenting and squatting about. They generally -find the lowest and swampy spots.</p> -<p>My scores of visits to various parts of the country during -many years are not recorded here, but the same sorrowful tale is -everywhere manifest.</p> -<p>It does seem that letters of blood and words of fire will be -needed to arouse the hearts and consciences of my countrymen, and -compel them to observe the dark side of human life which lies -close to our eyes and noses; and to draw the veil of ignorance -away which is preventing the sun of civilization carrying out its -mission among our own outcasts.</p> -<blockquote><p>“The darkness falls, the wind is high,<br /> -Dense black clouds till the western sky,<br /> - The storm will soon begin.<br /> -The thunders roar, the lightnings flash,<br /> -I hear the great round rain drops dash;<br /> - Are all the children in?”</p> -<p style="text-align: right"><i>The Christian Freeman</i>, 1877 -<i>and</i> 1878.</p> -</blockquote> -<p>I answer, “No! no!” and with a tear-fetching pang -I again say, “No!” The canal and gipsy children -are still outside the door, and our legislators do not care to -open it, owing to the “difficulties” which prevent -the latch from being lifted up. The nail is in the way, and -the door is locked—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Nobody kind words pouring<br /> - In that gipsy heart’s sad ear,<br /> -But all of us ignoring<br /> - What lies at our door so near.”</p> -<p style="text-align: right"><i>The Christian Freeman</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<h2><a name="page304"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -304</span>Rambles among the Scotch Gipsies at Yetholm.</h2> -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> 18th of December, 1882, was a -bitterly <i>shil</i> (cold) <i>divvus</i> (day), partly frozen -<i>ghie</i> (snow) lay several inches on the <i>chik</i> -(ground). The <i>dúvel</i> (sky) was gloomy and -overcast as if threatening this <i>doŏvelesto-chairos</i> -(world) of ours with a fresh outburst of <i>vénlo</i> -(wintry) vengeance. Not a <i>patrin</i> (leaf) was to be -seen upon the <i>rook</i> (tree). The <i>bával</i> -(wind) seemed at times to engage in a chorus of <i>shoolo</i> -(whistling) and howling, and other discordant <i>gúdli</i> -(noises). The few linnets, sparrows, bullfinches to be seen -hopping about the <i>drom</i> (road) in quest of -<i>kóben</i> (food), were almost starved to -<i>méripen</i> (death); <i>shil</i> (cold) and <i>bok</i> -(hunger) had made them tame and <i>posh</i> (half) -<i>moólo</i> (dead).</p> -<p>In a few minutes I stood at our door with my old grey coat -over my arm, wondering whether I should in my state of health -face my cold journey to Scotland. After a little -reflection, quickened by “the path of duty is the path of -safety,” which seemed to be more beautiful than ever, I -started with my bag in hand to tramp my way to the railway -station. I did not feel on the way in a humour for singing, -with cap in hand, and in joyous strains, “Oh! this will be -joyful,” but could have said with Wesley,</p> -<blockquote><p><a name="page305"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -305</span>“If in this darksome wild I stray,<br /> -Be Thou my Light, be Thou my Way.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>In the train I duly seated myself, and we sped on till I -arrived at Leicester, the seat of stockings and leather.</p> -<p>Leicester is a pleasant town, but, as in the case of other -towns, there are a few—only a few, thank God!—fools -in it whose light from farthing candles will become less as her -wise men, good and true, increase. After my landing upon -the platform I made my way to the house of my sister-in-law, and -there rested my bones for the night. During my restless -night, with the full blaze of a lamp shining in my face, some of -the following aphorisms were entered in my notebook:—</p> -<p>The books of infidels, sceptics, socialists, and atheists may -be compared to handfuls of sulphur cast into the fire of public -opinion. They give a bluish flash for a moment, reflecting -deathly and ghastly hues upon those who stand near; which -sometimes cause children, and those of weak minds, narrow vision, -and short sight to put their hands into the fire to see where the -deathly colours come from.</p> -<p>Righteous kings and queens, doing God-like acts to elevate and -beautify their subjects, may be compared to heavenly gardeners, -whose business in life is to beautify human nature and society -with an increasing number of moral tints and splendour, reflected -by the heavenly throne, and to transmit the colouring rays to the -human flowers growing up under their charge; thus making this -beautiful earth more like Paradise every year.</p> -<p>The righteous deeds of a good king or queen, when they emanate -from a heart filled with heavenly desires to render earthly -subjects contented and happy, are seeds that the spirit of evil -cannot kill. They will live and thrive to the end of time, -and then they will be transplanted to heaven to bloom through -eternity.</p> -<p><a name="page306"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 306</span>When -a Christian is said to have taken to doubting God’s -goodness, lovingkindness, and fatherly care, he may be said to -have drawn down the blinds of his soul and dimmed his vision of -the beauty, power, and love of Jehovah, the creator and upholder -of all things in heaven, earth, and sea.</p> -<p>Those who through fraud, craft, and deceit obtain the crown of -laurels won by others will find that, instead of the soft, -beautiful leaves, it will turn into a hard crown of thorns, that -will prick sharp and deep enough to touch the quick of the soul, -ruffle the thoughts, disturb the mind, and trouble the -conscience.</p> -<p>As bees in gathering honey from flowers often transmit many -new and lovely colours to plants and flowers, so in like manner -good children in passing into the world among all kinds of -families, especially among the young, change and beautify by kind -words, soft answers, and example the characters of those they are -brought in contact with.</p> -<p>The words used in faith by good Christian fathers and mothers -in blessing their children are jewels, pearls, and other precious -stones, which will be strung together by angelic hands with -golden threads, and worked into patterns that are to adorn the -children as they walk over the plains of Paradise. They are -the immortal flowers of earth, with a life within them that will -transform them into the everlasting flowers of heaven, that will -be strewn by little loved ones upon the path of saints as they -walk the streets of the New Jerusalem.</p> -<p>It is not always the largest flowers which make the prettiest -bouquet, or adorn a drawing-room to the best advantage. The -little bird’s-eye, that grows among the thistles in the -hedge-bottom, is prettier and more modest than the large -sunflower; so in like manner it is not always the big, shining, -dashing, flashing Christian, with <a name="page307"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 307</span>few real good deeds, that is the -most beautiful and lovely in God’s sight. The little -Sunday-school scholar, with Jesus shining out of his actions, in -a garret is the most beautiful and lovely to look upon, and -illumines a modest quiet corner with the greatest effect.</p> -<p>Bees gather honey from the most unassuming flowers, which are -oftentimes hid among thorns; so in like manner the sweetness of -heaven is to be gathered from good and lovely children, brought -up by Christian parents, living modestly and quietly in our back -streets among the roughest and lowest of the low, more prickly -than thorns, and more poisonous than poison.</p> -<p>Those short-sighted beings engaged in trying to get virtue out -of a gin-palace will find it harder work than extracting honey -out of a putrifying dead dog.</p> -<p>Double-faced Christians, engaged in trying to draw forth -goodness out of sin, wherewith to quench the qualms of -conscience, will find that they are engaged in a more difficult -task than that of drawing pure spring water from a cesspool.</p> -<p>Words are leaves, prayers bloom, and deeds fruit. If the -tree has grown up under religious influence the kernel contains -seeds of immortality, but if reared under the influence of sin -the kernel will be a rotten core and worse than useless.</p> -<p>To love and to sing is to live, and to hate and to swear is to -die.</p> -<p>Bad deeds, though often written and rewritten, soil the hands -of the scribe, corrupt his heart, taint the olfactory senses of -the reader—although they may be as angels—with an -unpleasant odour, offend their eyes, and become in the end -illegible blotches, smudges, and smears.</p> -<p>Good deeds, performed with a good object, eat themselves -clearly and legibly into the pages of history, which time turns -into gold, and leave a pleasant impression upon <a -name="page308"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 308</span>the writers -and readers—although they may be devils—that time and -men’s hands cannot efface.</p> -<p>Those who write flashy, misleading lies of various hues, -whether about gipsy, saint, or angel, will find that they are -earning red-hot coppers, which “puffs” will not -prevent burning the author’s fingers and scratching his -conscience.</p> -<p>Worldly-minded human beings engaged in trying to weave a cloak -of righteousness out of their own evil deeds wherewith to hide -their deformities, ugliness, and consumption, may be compared to -a poor old deformed woman trying to weave a golden cloak out of -rotten straw to hide the wretchedness and misery of Seven -Dials.</p> -<p>Those engaged in reclaiming children from sin and ignorance -are making themselves a silver ladder upon which to climb to -golden fame.</p> -<p>When our ways are clouded by mysteries and doubts, we may take -it for granted that we have got off the road, and are wandering -among marshes and swamps from which fogs and poisonous vapours -arise.</p> -<p>Satan often ties firebrands to the tails of hypocritical -professing Christians, and uses them as Samson did his foxes.</p> - -<div class="gapspace"> </div> -<p>At 6.30 on Tuesday morning I stepped out of doors with my -travelling paraphernalia upon some six-inches deep of newly -fallen snow. My only light was the flickering gas, which -was miserable indeed. Underneath the snowy carpet the roads -felt, and in fact were, like a sheet of glass. If the new -soles upon my shoes had been beeswaxed and polished I could not -have slipped and slurred about more. Sometimes my bags were -in the snow, and at other times I was trying the resisting force -of the lamp-posts. Some of the workmen as they passed me -rolled about as if they were “tight,” and I daresay -they thought me to be a brother chip. After three-quarters -of an hour’s exercise for patience, <a -name="page309"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 309</span>temper, and -legs, I arrived “safe and sound in wind and limb” in -a third-class compartment, and without any hot-water bottles to -cheer my onward course.</p> -<p>At Trent Station I spent five minutes with Mr. Taylor, the -fine, good-looking station-master, in talking over the caste, -kind, and character of the gipsies in India, in which country Mr. -Taylor was a station-master for some time. At Settle I -pulled up for a cup of coffee and a sandwich. The little -refreshment-room, about ten feet square, was quite a delightfully -warm, cosy nook. The glasses and decanters of variegated -colours were sparkling, the fire was bright and cheerful, and the -waitress brimmed over with smiles, grace, and good-nature. -I was nearly frozen, and to jump from the freezing train to the -warm sunny “bar” at one bound was enough almost to -make me wish that a coal truck would get across the line to cause -a delay for half-an-hour. It was not to be, and the cruel -porter bawled out, “Take your seats, gentlemen!” and -we were off to the snowy region of the North, where all things -are not forgot and sheep looked like rabbits. In puffing -along we passed through the snow-drifts, which two days -previously had held bound by the icy hand of winter eleven trains -and their freights of “live and dead stock” for -twenty-four hours, bringing forth from the sympathetic wife of -the station-master hot tea, cakes, and coffee for the -travellers.</p> -<p>In passing over the Settle and Carlisle railway I experienced -a very queer kind of sensation. I was in the carriage -alone. For many miles nothing was to be seen but snow and -telegraph posts. The fences were covered, the sheep and -cattle were housed, and, owing to the barren nature of the soil, -there were no trees to be seen peering their heads upwards. -A gloom, without a break or gleam of sunshine, spread over the -face of the heavens. The snow-covered hills and valleys -looked like so many white clouds, and appeared to be undulating -as <a name="page310"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 310</span>we -passed through them. Not a sound was to be heard except the -puffing and punting of the engine as we steamed away, and it -appeared as if we were miles high between two worlds, travelling -I knew not whither. To make myself believe that I was still -in the land of the living and not among “the dreary regions -of the dead,” I paced my compartment pretty freely, filling -up my time by singing—</p> -<blockquote><p style="text-align: center">“One there is -above all others,” &c.,</p> -</blockquote> -<p>and counting the telegraph posts as we glided along. -Among other things, as I walked to and fro in my solitary -compartment, I jotted down some of the following thoughts and -aphorisms:—</p> -<p>Faith is the quicksilver of heaven placed in the hearts of -God’s children. When it is low or weak, rains and -storms are brewing, difficulties are ahead; and when it is high -and strong, then peace and joy may be expected. Unsteady -Christians will do well to change their quarters.</p> -<p>Every glass of intoxicating drink given by parents to their -children may have pleasure swimming upon the surface, but at the -bottom there will be dregs of groans, and cries that will be -hurled back by the children with vengeance and retorts upon the -names and tombs of their parents as they lie smouldering in their -coffins.</p> -<p>The benevolent actions of earth become at death the flowers of -heaven.</p> -<p>The heavenly influences of God’s children in life become -at death the fragrance of eternity.</p> -<p>As the light-giving rays of the sun appear as darkness to -mortals with weak eyes and contracted vision, so in like manner -do the searching and light-giving rays of God’s Word appear -as darkness to those whose mind and mental powers have become -weakened through looking into the lovely system of heaven with -narrow, preconceived ideas and notions.</p> -<p><a name="page311"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 311</span>Tears -are the dewdrops of sorrow; if of heavenly sorrow, they will be -the means, as they drop to the earth, of watering seeds that will -produce a crop of heavenly joy.</p> -<p>In every cup of sorrow given to us by God to drink there are -mixed up in the ingredients fine precious seeds of a higher life, -greater joy, and abiding peace to bloom everlastingly in -heaven.</p> -<p>Those who dabble in sin stain their hands with indelible ink, -which nothing but grace can remove.</p> -<p>Prayer is a pump-handle, and faith the rods and bucket that -lift the clear spring of heavenly truth into our earthly vessels -to refresh us on the way to Zion.</p> -<p>Hot-tempered and fiery-tempered Christians often expose the -nakedness of their souls.</p> -<p>Those people who think that they can go to heaven by indulging -in worldly pleasure and sin are travelling in a balloon of their -own manufacture, which may carry them high up in the opinion of -worldlings, but in reality they are soaring into the freezing -atmosphere of God’s wrath, to come down with a terrible -crash.</p> -<p>A man with a large heart, broad sympathy, but under the -influence of a short temper, often burns his fingers; while the -man with a narrow soul and an envious disposition has a fire -within that will blister his tongue and singe the hair off his -head.</p> -<p>Sacred poems and hymns are the million silver steps leading to -the heavenly city from every quarter of the globe; and the tunes -set to them are the lovely seraphs from the angel-land taking us -by the hand to lead us onward and upward to the golden doors -studded with diamonds and other precious stones, which are opened -to all who have been sanctified and made ready for the -indescribable kingdom within.</p> -<p>Death is the postman from the unknown land—except <a -name="page312"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 312</span>to those -who have seen it by the eye of faith—knocking at our -door.</p> - -<div class="gapspace"> </div> -<p>Once or twice we passed several men with shovels in their -hands and dressed in garbs that only required a very slight -stretch of imagination to make us believe that they were in the -Arctic regions searching for the bodies of Sir John Franklin and -his noble crew. Suddenly we dropped upon Carlisle, and for -a few minutes we pulled ourselves together. As there were -no sandwiches to be got, I dined off a penny bun and a sour -orange, the rind of which, owing to my benumbed fingers, sorely -tried my patience, and in retaliation I set to it with my teeth -in a most savage manner, and cast the remnants to the wind to -perish in the mud.</p> -<p>We duly arrived at St. Boswell’s Station. I felt -nearly “done up,” and at this place I slipped, -rolled, and tumbled into an hotel for a warm rest and a -feed. When it was dark I turned out again and made my way -by train to Kelso, the place of fame, and noted for its public -spirit. As I drew near to the town I could have said with -Alfred Miles, in <i>Young England</i>, 1880—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Louder blew the winds and fiercer,<br /> -The night was drawing nigh.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>From the station to the town was a most miserable -half-hour’s journey. The snow was in heaps, and -travellers had to clutch the arms of friends or foes to enable -them to “steer a steady course.” The snow -whistled and squeaked under the pressure of the soles of my feet; -for by this time I did not seem to have any other soul. -Sometimes I seemed to take one step forward to two backward, till -at last a ’busman picked me up and set me down within a -hundred yards of the Temperance Hotel door—Mr. -Slight’s—which was the nearest he could get me to -without risk to <a name="page313"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -313</span>life and limb, owing to the great depth of snow. -I felt faint, and the full force of what Marianne Farningham says -in the <i>Christian World</i>—</p> -<blockquote><p>“O God, the way is very long,<br /> -And the storms are rough and wild.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>Men working in snow, in the blackness of night, beneath the -dull, flickering lamps, and with a heavy, foggy atmosphere -overhead, present a most curious and interesting spectacle, such -as might call forth from nervous, sensitive minds a thousand -ghostly wild conjectures about gipsies, witches, &c.</p> -<p>During the evening “mine host” invited me, with -some three commercial travellers, to a little family party he was -having, numbering altogether some six gentlemen and eight young -ladies.</p> -<p>Of the gentlemen I will say nothing except that they were very -gentlemanly; but of the young ladies I will say that they were of -the usual agreeable mixture. One was charming, another -sweet, another was lively, another was delightful, another was -pretty, another was pleasant, another was full of grace, and so -on. Of course, each had her own peculiar special graces, -figure, and colour of hair. Singing, playing, lively and -interesting conversation whiled the evening hours away. -Notwithstanding these enchanting proceedings, I did not feel -happy. I tried hard to put a smile upon my face, but -imagined I was not successful, for the company often had to try -to “liven me up.” The trials and hardships of -the day, and my work on the morrow, weighted me heavily with -anxiety and sorrow.</p> -<p>I retired to my chamber pensive, sad, and cold. My bed -was like ice, and all the clothes, rugs, &c., I had would not -make me warm. The night was shiveringly cold, and my heart -ached for the poor gipsies out in the <a name="page314"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 314</span>snow. I dozed, winked, and -blinked. I got out of bed again and again; and, to while -away the long hours of the night, I jotted some of the following -aphorisms down, by the side of the dying embers of a -<i>little</i> fire:—</p> -<p>Sunday-schools are God’s flower-beds, upon which He -sends more gleams of sunshine and spring showers than upon the -rest of the world. Some Sunday-school children are the -little roses, pinks, mignonette, &c. There are other -Sunday-school children very modest and very good, but with little -show; these are the thyme, ladslove, &c. The naughty -children are the sour and poisonous weeds.</p> -<p>When a Christian leaves the prospect hill for the marshes and -swamps of despondency and gloom, he will soon discover—or -ought to do—that he is in the neighbourhood of hellish fogs -and mists, which will lead him into worse than the Roman’s -“shepherd’s race,” maze, or labyrinth, and from -thence to gloomy thoughts and hazy notions of God and His -works.</p> -<p>Infidels are the rats of society, puddling and muddling the -rippling streams of pure truth that run through our land.</p> -<p>Cold places of worship, with a shivering minister as -doorkeeper, are the places to turn warm Christians into freezing -saints.</p> -<p>A drunken Christian minister is a toppled-over guide-post with -the bottom rotted off, owing to its having being set in too much -water.</p> -<p>Hope is the second—love the first—greatest moral -force in the world. When a man is down in the gutter it -lifts him up; when he is in darkness it puts light in his face -and fire in his eyes. It enters the breast of a child; it -fills the heart, and is seen in every action of man; it is in the -soul of kings, governs empires, and rules destinies; and it lifts -human beings, populating all worlds, from earth and hell to -heaven. Oh! bliss-inspiring hope!</p> -<p><a name="page315"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 315</span>Hope -is the father of ambition and the earthly companion of the soul; -they join together till they come to the edge of the river, -whence the soul takes its flight into eternity, and hope becomes -the life of the fame left behind, and ends with fame’s -death.</p> -<p>Despair is the wastrel daughter of ambition forsaken by her -father, and her mother, hope and pride. She drags all who -touch her to poverty, ruin, degradation, misery, and death. -When she creeps do you run.</p> -<p>Elevating natural parental love buds in time and blooms -through eternity. It turns a mud cottage or gipsy wigwam -into a palace, a desert into a garden, a waste into an earthly -paradise. It causes the birds and variegated songsters to -chirp and sing round your dwelling, the trees to laugh, the -stones to shout, the cat to purr upon the hearth, and the -children to kiss and fondle upon your knees. It sends whole -families where love dwells off to bed in good humour, and causes -the cock to crow early in the morning at your door, telling you -that a <span class="smcap">diviner love</span> is about to enter -your family circle with a fragrance excelling that of the rose, -and its effects more lovely to behold than that of the lily.</p> -<p>The soil of earth is the brain of nature.</p> -<p>Children with good hearts and lovable dispositions, under the -fostering care of a good, kind, Christian mother, will become -God’s pretty little singing birds, to beautify and enliven -His heavenly garden; while naughty, disobedient, bad children -will become worse than rotten eggs, not even fit for manure.</p> -<p>As bells are placed upon the necks of leading wether sheep to -give out a sound of danger and guidance, so in like manner is the -word of God placed upon the necks of His ministers, to give out -words of consolation, counsel, reproof, and warning, and woe be -to those who give out an uncertain sound.</p> -<p><a name="page316"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -316</span>Gipsies, vagrants, tramps, and vagabonds are the corns -and bunions of society.</p> -<p>Every kind, benevolent act of a Christian, full of love to God -and man, is a cask of heavenly oil poured upon the troubled -waters of life, and those who go down deep into human misery will -find, by looking upward, as the oil of paradise swims upon the -waves of woe, the beautiful light of heaven reflected upon their -every movement to raise fallen humanity.</p> -<p>The love of God in the heart of man produces a smoothness upon -the surface of his face and body that eases his way to heaven -through the chilling billows of selfishness, deceit, and -fraud.</p> -<p>A cruel retort from an ungrateful son opens a parent’s -eyes to his sins and follies more than the advice of one hundred -friends.</p> -<p>To mount the highest hill of God’s favour upon the -alternate steps of prayer and good works, with faith as a -handrail, is to see the indescribable beauties of heaven and the -unsurpassed splendour of earth as no other mortal can; and by -climbing higher still we can see more and more, till we find -ourselves lost in love and wonder.</p> -<p>The transparent dewdrops of heaven to be seen, by the light of -the bright morning sun, resting and twinkling into rainbow -colours upon the flowers and blades of grass on the green, mossy -carpet, are the lively, sweet, innocent little children whom God -sends to cheer and beautify our path for awhile before He calls -them to heaven by the absorbing rays of Divine love.</p> -<p>To a good man dark moments are the harbingers of bright days, -and to a bad man light moments of excitement are the precursors -of long, dark days of sorrow.</p> -<p>Love is the greatest moral force in the world. With the -birth of a child it has a beginning, and it is the right hand -companion of the soul; and with the death of the <a -name="page317"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 317</span>body it is -transferred with its redeemed chief to paradise, to be the -singing, joyful companion of the soul through endless ages and -never-ending delights and pleasures.</p> -<p>Divine love is the celestial life of heaven dwelling in -man’s breast, purifying his heart, enlivening his soul, -transforming his affection to such an extent that he can sing in -the midst of a burning, sandy, waterless, parching desert, -“Oh! that will be joyful.” It transforms the -black demon face of a gipsy, or a child of hell, into the -lovable, smiling face of a child of God. Its possessor can -jump ditches, bound over fences, and scale battlements as easily -as if they were level green, mossy carpets. It makes life -happy, and opens heaven to our view.</p> - -<div class="gapspace"> </div> -<p>After I had passed through this ordeal, I tried pacing the -room with no better results. Notwithstanding these things, -I felt as the Rev. Richard Wilton felt when he penned the -following lines for <i>Hand and Heart</i>, June, 1880:</p> -<blockquote><p>“Sufferings are gifts, accept for my -sake,<br /> -And from earth’s sighs heaven’s music shall -wake.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>Morning dawned and found me with wakeful eyes ready to receive -it. After breakfast I began to prepare for my journey -through deep snow which had fallen evenly upon the ground to the -height of the stone walls. I found that the postman with -his cart had begun to prepare for the journey, and he calculated -that if all were straight it would take him five hours to -“do the eight miles.” “Mine host” -would not consent to this arrangement, and the next best thing -was to hire a horse and trap. So through the deep snow we -started. I had not got very far before my muffler was -frozen and icicles hung round my beard like little -diamonds. A few carts and waggons had been pulled over the -snow in places by the farmers, and had left a few tracks. -Notwithstanding these our old <a name="page318"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 318</span>hunter was not long before he began -to “puff and blow.” My gigman said, “I -don’t know whether we shall be able to get through to -Yetholm, but we will go as far as we can. We can but turn -back if we can get no further.”</p> -<p>Our steed did not require pulling up to stop him. Of his -own instinct he stopped pretty frequently. I said to the -man, “Our horse seems to be short of -‘puff.’” “Yes,” said the -gigman; “his wind is touched a little, but nothing to -hurt. He will be all right if we can once pull -through.” Sometimes we went into the ditches. -How deep they were before the snow fell I don’t know. -I should think some of them were pretty deep. Thanks to the -Almighty, the bottom of our gig would not let us topple -over. Many times I began to wonder where we should find a -resting-place for the night. I said to my gigman as we went -ploughing through the snow in one of the ditches, “In case -we get stuck fast, what shall we do next?” -“Well,” said the gigman, “we shall have to -leave the trap behind and return to Kelso as best we can. -We shall both have to get upon the horse’s back, and if he -will not carry us we must take turn and turn about. It -won’t do to stop on the road to perish.” I -began to “pump” my gigman in order to know whether I -was in the hands of one who understood his business. I -wanted my fears settling upon this point.</p> -<p>I said, “How long have you been a coachman?” -“Between twenty and thirty years,” he said. -“And have you ever had a ‘spill’ or been stuck -fast?” “I have only had one ‘pitch -in’ and never a ‘spill.’” This news -gave me confidence in my man, and on we kept ploughing -away. A strong contrast presented itself to our view close -to a cottage just off the roadside. There was a fine dark -woman with a bright scarlet hood and cloak on her big body, doing -something upon one of the hedges. It struck me that she was -bird-liming, for the London markets, <a name="page319"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 319</span>the poor linnets that choose to be -caged rather than to perish.</p> -<p>The sights along the road were most lively, and I shall never -forget it as long as the breath is in my body. The -excitement “on the road,” the bubbling sympathy -within my breast for the poor perishing rabbits, hares, -partridges, and crows upon our path, the dangers of the way, and -the magnificent grandeur of the scenery, were of such a nature as -to cause me to forget the biting cold at work benumbing my nose, -fingers, and toes. The Scotch firs in the dales and vales -along our path and on the hillsides never appeared more grand and -beautiful. They were artistically touched by the hand of -God. The pure white lovely prismatic children of the clouds -and cold boundless space had descended softly from heaven, as if -loth to leave their pure abode for a resting-place in the mud; -but before doing so they appeared anxious to adorn the trees of -nature with the beauties of ethereal space, and in such a manner -as to cause one’s heart to glow with gratitude towards God, -the Giver of all good. The boughs were bent downwards, -heavily laden with the angelic snowflakes; the whole trees -presenting a spiral sight, leading your eyes and mind upwards -toward heaven. At the extreme tips of the branches the snow -had formed a kind of white clapperless bells. As I passed -under the heavily-laden trees I felt that I should like to have -helped them to bear their burden, and also to keep the prismatic -children of the clouds and infinitude from settling into their -dirty resting-places. Nature seemed to speak through the -beautiful snow-adorned trees, and wintry-capped hills and covered -valleys with a warm loving tenderness that I had never -experienced before.</p> -<p>Upon the fences the snow had come softly and stealthily down, -apparently as if in gentle wavelets, which presented the -appearance of fold upon fold, overhanging waves upon <a -name="page320"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 320</span>waves in -beautiful round and soft designs; and as I beheld it I felt for a -few minutes that it would be a real pleasure, with joy and -gladness running through my bones, and smiles forcing themselves -upon my face, to roll, plunge, tumble, and fluster under its -overhanging laps and waved folds, which seemed to speak -invitingly, and with open arms, to those who cast a sympathetic -glance at them. Never in this world did snow appear more to -be like the downs of heaven than upon this occasion, -notwithstanding the <i>biting</i> cold day. On this journey -the live things seemed to be dying, while the dead things seemed -to be living.</p> -<p>We had now been on the road ploughing away over two hours -among the snow, and still we were not at the end of our -journey. We had had many escapes of a spill, with the -consolation that we should not have been hurt, except in case the -iron heels of our beast had come sharply in contact with our -almost frost-bitten noses. As we topped the hills and -neared Yetholm it was manifest that the rude hand of storm and -tempest had been busily at work among the trees at some not very -remote period. Hundreds had been uprooted, some of which -were left to tell the tale. Not a public-house was to be -seen on the way. There was a kind of cabin a little off the -roadside, on which was stuck a piece of board, showing that tea, -tobacco, coffee, and snuff were sold there. Among the hills -in the distance Yetholm was observed. The thought that had -run freely through my mind, that I might not reach Yetholm, had -now vanished.</p> -<p>The veritable gipsy town was in sight, and our steed pricked -up his ears and quickened his pace. The blood which had -imperceptibly been freezing in my veins seemed to glow -again. The use of my hands and feet seemed to be coming -round, and into a public-house I stumbled at half past one to get -a cup of tea, “a cheer up,” and thorough -warming. After which I set out with my bag in <a -name="page321"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 321</span>one hand -loaded with Testaments, supplied to me by a friend and the -Christian Knowledge Society; picture cards, supplied to me by the -Religious Tract Society; and <i>Our Boys and Girls</i>, supplied -to me by the Wesleyan Sunday-School Union; while in the other -hand I carried a quantity of oranges and tobacco, purchased from -Mr. Laidlaw’s, a tradesman in the place. With this -“stock-in-trade” for the big and little gipsies at -Kirk Yetholm I started my tramp.</p> -<p>The nestling and nuzzling of the gipsy hypocrites beneath the -walls of the church at Kirk Yetholm, when they first landed in -this country and for centuries onward, is only in accord with -their first appearance in many parts of England. There can -be no doubt that when the gipsies came from the Continent they -came as hypocritical, religious, popish pilgrims, and succeeded -well for a time in inveigling themselves into the good graces and -pockets of the well-to-do English men and women, so that many of -them were able to dress in scarlet and gold till they were found -out, as I have shown elsewhere.</p> -<p>Kirk Yetholm, the gipsy town, is about half a mile from Town -Yetholm.</p> -<p style="text-align: center"> -<a href="images/p321b.jpg"> -<img alt= -"Gipsy Winter quarters, Yetholm" -title= -"Gipsy Winter quarters, Yetholm" - src="images/p321s.jpg" /> -</a></p> -<p>By the time I had arrived at the gipsy quarters, owing to my -loads, the deep snow, and the slippery nature of the roads in -some places, I was ready for a rest.</p> -<p>At the entrance to the village I met a number of little -half-starved, dirty, ragged gipsy children, who, to say the -least, would require a deal of “straightening up” -before they were ready for angelic robes. One little fellow -with fine lips, but a mouth almost extending from ear to ear, -accosted me in such a manner as to satisfy me that I was, without -doubt, in the land of gipsydom. With the exception of the -fine old church and one or two houses, the whole presented a -miserable appearance. The gipsy dwellings were one story -high, and of a dirty dingy white.</p> -<p><a name="page322"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -322</span>Leydon’s opinion of the Yetholm gipsies in his -day was not very high, for he says—</p> -<blockquote><p>“On Yeta’s banks the vagrant gipsies -place<br /> -Their turf-built cots. A sunburnt swarthy race,<br /> -From Nubian realms their tawny line they bring,<br /> -And their brown chieftain vaunts the name of king.<br /> -With loitering steps from town to town they pass,<br /> -Their lazy dames rock’d on the panier’d ass,<br /> -From pilfer’d roots or nauseous carrion fed,<br /> -By hedgerows green they strew their leafy bed;<br /> -While scarce the cloak of tawdry red conceals<br /> -The fine-turned limbs which every breeze reveals.<br /> -Their bright black eyes through silken lashes shine,<br /> -Around their necks their raven tresses twine;<br /> -But chilling damps and dews of night impair<br /> -Its soft sleek gloss and tan the bosom bare.<br /> -Adroit the lines of palmistry to trace,<br /> -Her horded silver store they charm away,<br /> -A pleasing debt for promised wealth to pay.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>Slater says in his Directory for 1882 that “Town Yetholm -and Kirk Yetholm are both very humble in appearance, especially -the latter, which is chiefly inhabited by gipsies, a race -formerly remarkable for their disorderly lives and dangerous -characters, and at this day distinguished by peculiarity of -habits from the general body of the community.”</p> -<p>Dr. Baird says in his “Memoir of the Rev. John -Baird,” written some twenty years ago, “A colony of -gipsies which had long been settled at Kirk Yetholm had given -rather an unenviable notoriety to the village, and rendered its -name familiar to thousands in Scotland. The great majority -of this wandering race were little better than heathens though -born in a Christian land, and were notorious for poaching, -thieving, and blackguardism.”</p> -<p>Most of the gipsy dwellings belong to a friend, the Marquis of -Tweeddale, and he has of late years taken steps to improve their -appearance. At the present time <a name="page323"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 323</span>I am told the gipsy dwellings, so -far as the outsides are concerned, show a great -improvement. Sad to relate, the gipsy tenants have not -improved one jot. Landlords may make gipsies’ and -labourers’ houses—and it is right they -should—healthy and habitable, but estate agents cannot -purify the moral iniquity that dwells within. The -schoolmaster, law, and the gospel are the agents for this -reforming work.</p> -<p>I was told by Mr. Laidlaw that a gipsy named Mathew Blythe was -the most respectable gipsy in Yetholm, and would give me any -information; so to Mathew I made my way. I knocked at his -door and was met with a shout—“Come in.” -I did not stand knocking twice after this invitation, and went -through the dingy, greasy passage—or “entrance -hall”—to another door, which I opened, and there -found a round-faced, grey-haired, good-looking, cobbling gipsy at -work upon his “last.” The room seemed to serve -for kitchen, scullery, parlour, dining-room, sitting-room, -bedroom, closet, and workshop. For a minute or two he eyed -me over from head to foot before asking me to sit down on a -rickety old chair that stood by my side. I told him that I -was come to look up the gipsies at Yetholm. I was met with -a gruff reply, “There are no gipsies at Yetholm; they are -all gone away, and I don’t know where they are gone -to.” I said, “I am sorry for that, as I had -brought some books, oranges, tobacco, pictures, and coppers for -them.” And after a few words in Romany the old man -turned up his face with a smile and said, “Well, to speak -the truth, I am a gipsy, but my old woman is not. Sit you -down.” I sat down and began my tale, and told him who -I was and all about the object of my visit. At this the old -man opened his eyes wider and wider and said, “Lord, bless -you, me and my brother, who lives at Town Yetholm, were only -talking about you yesterday, and saying how glad we should be to -see you. <a name="page324"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -324</span>Let’s shake hands.” He took hold of -my hand and gave it a good grip and a squeeze, one that I shall -not soon forget. I said, “I suppose you wanted to see -me in order to give me a ‘good tanning,’ or else to -make the place warm for me; for I have been told by a backwood -gipsy writer at — that the gipsies in Scotland would make -it hot for me if they once got hold of me; and this is one, among -the many other reasons, why I am here to-day.” -“Those,” said Mr. Blythe, “who told you that -tale told you a lie. I don’t know any gipsy who would -hurt your little finger. You have said some hard things -about us, but they are true, or nearly so. Why should not -our children be educated like other people’s -children? Why should gipsy children not be allowed to sit -on the same bench with the rest? They are the same flesh -and blood, and God looks upon them the same as He does upon other -children. In church and in school no one will come near to -us, and what is the result? Why, there is not a gipsy in -all the place—and there are between one and two -hundred—except myself who goes to church on Sundays. -The gipsies in Yetholm are worse off to-day than they ever -were. Some are in receipt of parish relief.” -This upsets the romantic tales of the gipsy writers who maintain -that gipsies never receive parish relief. “A few of -the children can read and write, but that is all. I learned -to read and write a many years, thank God, and I also learnt to -make and mend shoes.” I said, “What do the -gipsies do and where do they wander, as they grow -up?” “They,” said Mr. Blythe, -“generally goes to town, or travels the country, and nobody -knows where they end their days.” Mr. Blythe was some -distant—“ninety-second cousin”—relation -to the notorious dare-devil gipsy, Will Faa, who claimed to be a -sort of a gipsy king, and on this account I wanted to have a few -words about the gipsy kings of Scotland. -“Well,” said Mr. Blythe, “you <a -name="page325"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 325</span>know better -than I can tell you that there are no such beings as gipsy kings -and queens. It is all bosh and nonsense, conjured up to get -money on the cheap. The woman they call the gipsy queen -does not live at Yetholm now, she has gone to live at -Kelso. I could not tell you whereabouts she lives, but in -some of the back streets.”</p> -<p>Mr. Blythe began to relate some of the gipsy tales; and how -many kings’ lives the gipsies had saved, and a number of -other things relating to gipsy life, into which I had not time to -enter, as I wanted to be on the road again with my gigman before -it was dark. The old man’s crippled foot prevented -him making some visits with me to the other gipsies in the -village, or, as he said, “I should have been only too glad -to have done so. The poor things want somebody looking -after them, I can assure you.” I emptied nearly the -whole of the contents of my bags of books, pictures, tobacco, -oranges, and a few coppers upon the gipsy cobbler’s bench, -among the awls, nails, waxed-ends, &c., for him to -distribute, as a <i>man</i>, among the gipsy children and old -women in the village; and as a <i>man</i>, and with gipsy -greetings and good wishes, trusting to Mr. Blythe’s honour, -I left them, and they have, with God’s blessing, no doubt -been distributed. After a few words of cheer and -consolation and several shakes of the hands, which somehow -brought out my weakness in tears, I bade Mr. Blythe, the -grey-haired, open-faced gipsy, “good-bye,” maybe -never to meet again on this side of Jordan. I felt as I -stepped out of the door that I could have said with a blind -writer in the <i>Church of England Magazine</i>—</p> -<blockquote><p>“Though dark and dreary be my way,<br /> -Thy light can turn my night to day.”</p> -<p>“Pensive I tread my sad and lonely road,<br /> -Pain, gloom, and sorrow marked me for their prey.”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>I took a stroll through the place to eye the gipsy dwellings -<a name="page326"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 326</span>over, -and by the time I had got to the bridge homeward, a number of -poor half-starved gipsy children had gathered round me. I -had not gone far before I met some bigger gipsies “working -<i>home</i>” for the night. I thought I would have -five minutes’ chat in the snow with a little old gipsy -woman named Sanderson, who had accosted me in the usual gipsy -fashion, viz., a curtsy and “Your honour, sir.” -I pulled up and deposited my bags in the snow. At this the -old woman began to smile; she no doubt thought that she had -succeeded in her first step to draw something from me. She -was not long in perceiving that I was not a Scotchman, and took -pains to tell me her name, and that she was an English gipsy from -the neighbourhood of Newcastle. It occurred to me that I -would just for once try the old woman’s volubility of -thanks, and accordingly I dipped into my bag for an orange; this -brought the old woman almost upon her knees with a “Thank -yer honour;” each “thanks” was accompanied by -low curtsies. I next pulled out a picture card; this she -put to her breast and said, “Lord bless yer -honour.” I gave her another card, for which she -responded with upturned eyes, “May the Lord bless you, my -dear good gentleman.” I next gave her some coppers; -she again turned up her eyes toward heaven and said with a smile, -“May you never want a friend in the world.” I -next gave her some tobacco, to which she responded, “May -the dear Lord thank you a thousand times.” I ran -through all the varieties I had, without exhausting her stock of -thanks. I began to think that I must “give it -up.” I believe Nisbets, Sunday School Union, Hodder -and Stoughton, Partridge, Religious Tract Society, Christian -Knowledge Society, and all the wide world-known first class -publishing houses in Paternoster Row—and over London there -are many of them—would not produce variety of picture books -enough to exhaust the different kind of thanks the <a -name="page327"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 327</span>old gipsy -woman had in store; at any rate she would have a curtsy for the -last and one to spare for the next gift. I had a Testament -in my bag, and as a last present I thought I would give it to -her. The old woman took it out of my hand as a hungry -starving child takes a piece of bread, with more eagerness than -she had shown over either the money or the tobacco, and clasped -it to her breast and called out with tears in her eyes in an -attitude of prayer, “May the dear Lord Jesus bless you, my -dear good gentleman, so long as you shall live, and may you never -want a friend.” Tears and curtsies came again pretty -freely, I shook hands with the old gipsy, and we parted. -The rimy moisture on my spectacles, and the hastiness of my -movements prevented me testing the old gipsy woman’s tears, -to see whether they were genuine or not. I rather think -they were; at any rate it is more pleasant to human nature to -have smiles than frowns, even if they come from the devil.</p> -<p>I jumped into the trap, put on a warm muffler, and jolted and -jogged for some two hours to my lodgings, passing some gipsy -poachers on the way, and watching the growing moon in the heavens -facing me, which seemed to speak words of consolation showing -unmistakably that all was not darkness in the temporary Arctic -cold regions in the world of gipsydom.</p> -<p>In Kelso I found out that one of the <i>princes</i> of -gipsydom had been in jail nearly a score of times; in fact, one -of the magistrates told me that he himself had sent one of the -gipsy vagabonds to jail something like half a dozen times during -the last two years. As a rule, when his -“<i>highness</i>” was not in jail, he was employed -scraping the streets, scavenging, or getting a penny in other -ways. In the train I was told that one of the <i>queens</i> -of gipsydom indulged in language which would not be a sufficient -passport to heaven, and was at the present time to outside <a -name="page328"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 328</span>observers a -poor, miserable old woman, with one foot in the grave, a standing -lie to the advantages, blessings, and beauties of an uncivilized, -demoralizing, wandering vagabond’s life.</p> -<p style="text-align: center"> -<a href="images/p328b.jpg"> -<img alt= -"Esther Faa Blythe—a Scotch gipsy queen" -title= -"Esther Faa Blythe—a Scotch gipsy queen" - src="images/p328s.jpg" /> -</a></p> -<p>A portrait of one of the self-crowned Scottish gipsy queens, -Esther Faa Blythe, is here given. The old woman is -eighty-five years of age, and has an eye to business. She -is sharp, and can adapt herself to all circumstances. With -the saints she becomes heavenly, and so on, almost through the -whole of the lights, shades, and phases of social life.</p> -<p>There are numbers of “gipsy kings” and -“queens” in the country—aye, almost in every -county; at any rate those who are simple enough to believe in -them say so. One gipsy queen not long ago used to dress in -dashing, gaudy silks, and sit in “a chair of state” -in her van, and the Londoners paid their threepennies to see her -from time to time. She now lives a “retired -life,” upon her gains, at Maidenhead.</p> -<p>The best gipsy queen I know of is the good Christian woman, -Mrs. Simpson—formerly a Lee—at Notting Hill, who has -become a devoted, good Christian woman, and tries to do all the -good she can as she passes up and down the world. Her Bible -contains her “state records,” which are the guide of -her life. For twenty years she did a “roaring -trade” by telling fortunes to simpletons and big babies out -of the Bible—upside-down at times—of which she could -not tell a letter. Since she has been a <i>gipsy Christian -queen</i> she has learnt to read some parts of the blessed -book. My plan, if followed out thoroughly in all its -details, will make all our gipsies “kings” and -“queens.” It is surprising that there are -people in the world silly enough even at this late day to believe -in such beings as the “gipsy kings” and -“queens” of backwood romance.</p> -<p>To come back to Yetholm. The aches, pains, and wild <a -name="page329"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 329</span>visions of -the night carried me almost over the wide, wide world, and had it -not been for the power of Divine love and the rays of heavenly -light I cannot tell where I might have got to ere this.</p> -<blockquote><p style="text-align: center">“The rougher the -way, the shorter the stay,”</p> -</blockquote> -<p>said Wesley. I paid my bill, and started homeward, and -at St. Boswell’s station I made the acquaintance of Thomas -Webster, Esq., and his two sweet, interesting little sons, -Masters Thomas Scott Cliff and Harold Colin, of Oxenden Towers, -Dunse. In the train we sat together, and chatted and whiled -away time almost imperceptibly for several hours as we journeyed -southward. At Hillfield we separated. He and his sons -travelled westward, and I kept speeding along southward and -homeward, I think a wiser man; certainly I know more of the -gipsies in Scotland and at Yetholm than I ever knew before. -I find, among other things, that there are a number of gipsies -living among the rocks on the northern coasts of Scotland, more -like wild animals than human beings, and as shaggy as -winter-coated goats.</p> -<p>My visit to Yetholm brought out the fact more vividly to my -mind than ever, that private flickering and fluttering missionary -enterprise, apart from compulsory education, sanitation, and -proper Government supervision, is powerless, and unable to -reclaim our gipsies and their children from heathendom and its -black midnight surroundings; and this I have stated all along in -my letters, Congress papers, articles in the <i>Graphic</i> and -<i>Wesleyan Methodist Magazine</i>, and in my “Gipsy -Life,” &c. The case of the poor brickyard girls -and boys and canal children proves this in an unmistakable manner -beyond all doubt; at any rate, to those who have their eyes and -ears open, and hearts and hands ready to help forward the -country’s welfare. <a name="citation329"></a><a -href="#footnote329" class="citation">[329]</a></p> -<p><a name="page330"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 330</span>Some -fifty years ago the Rev. John Baird, a godly minister at Yetholm, -and a few warm hearted friends, commenced in right good earnest -to reform the gipsies at Yetholm. A committee was formed, -several hundreds of pounds were collected, steps taken to get the -gipsy children to school, and for some years they issued -encouraging reports concerning the gipsies. Plenty of -proofs were forthcoming to show that the gipsy children could be -made meet for heaven by the application of the laws of education, -sanitation, and the gospel; they were, as a rule, as well -conducted in school and church as other labouring-class -children. In course of time the missionary zeal of the -committee began to flag, and Mr. Baird handed them over to the -magistrates, and he goes on to say: “Take the more -respectable individual, and let him follow the occupation of the -gipsy, and in a few years he will in all probability be as bad as -any of them. It is almost folly and ignorance to say that a -wandering gipsy may be a respectable character. The thing -seems to be possible and, theoretically, not improbable; but -practically the wandering gipsy is almost without exception a -disreputable person. His wandering life leads to -innumerable evils. In kindness to themselves, therefore, -their occupation, were it even a useful one to society, should be -put down; but it is not only useless, but positively injurious to -themselves and others. Their life is one of petty crime; -their death involved in all the gloom of ignorance and -despair.”</p> -<p>What are the results to-day of the years of toil and the -hundreds of pounds which have been spent upon the gipsy children -at Yetholm? Only one gipsy is to be found <a -name="page331"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 331</span>going to -church on Sundays. And whose fault is it? Certainly -not the gipsy children’s, nor yet that of Mr. Baird and his -friends, but that of the State and the country. Mr. Baird -gave proof that education had made some gipsy children into -useful servants and good citizens; and why not more? Would -to God that our noble Queen, our statesmen, and our -philanthropists would listen to the gipsy children’s cry -which has been going upward to heaven from our doors during the -last three hundred and sixty-eight years, and is still unheard -and unheeded by the Christians of England. Their tears, -instead of softening our hearts, have turned them into icicles, -sneers, and frozen sympathies, and the devilish, sensual gipsy -novelists have transformed the bright lively looks of the girls -into wicked designs and immoral purposes. Every retarding -act and backward movement of those who would keep the poor gipsy -children in ignorance will be a thorn in their pillow at the -close of life, as the crest of the eternal wave appears in view -with savage, bewildering reality. It is a serious thing to -drag women and children downhill, and it is one that will not be -banished by the artistic touches of dark, sensual, misleading -gipsy romance, however finely drawn and dexterously spun.</p> -<p>The Yetholm gipsies, living, roosting, and nestling in their -degrading, demoralizing, and squalid manner, have, during the -last three centuries, from beneath the shadow of the sacred -parish church and within the sound of its heavenly chimes, sent -forth into England, Scotland, and the world over two thousand -dark missionaries, trained in all the crimes of sin and -wrong-doing, to spread misery and moral and eternal death on -every hand, without our ever putting out our hands as a nation to -arrest or sweeten the stream of iniquity which has been floating -by our doors for so long. Good Lord, wake us all up from -our sleep of moral death into which we are falling, bound <a -name="page332"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 332</span>hand and -foot by selfish interests—money, greed, sensual pleasures, -and fascinating delights.</p> -<p>Gipsying in this country comes up before us in various forms, -enough to send a cold, thrilling shudder through one’s -nature. A friend whom I know well, in Leicester, told me -only the other day that one of her distant relations at Greetham, -in Rutlandshire, had <span class="GutSmall">SOLD</span>, some -year or so ago, his dark-eyed and dark-haired pretty girl of -about twelve summers to a gang of gipsies for <span -class="GutSmall">TWO SHILLINGS AND SIXPENCE AND A GALLON OF -BEER</span>, and the poor lost creature is now tramping and -travelling the country, no one knows where. This poor -girl’s mother is living in comfortable service in -Leicester. One can hardly imagine a husband and wife, -father and mother, so utterly lost to all natural feeling as to -sell their child for half a crown; but so it is, and no doubt she -is making money for the gipsy scoundrels and inhuman -brutes. My heart often bleeds for the little lost gipsy -girl, concerning whom slap-dash gipsy song-writers can call forth -thrills of momentary pleasurable excitement from sensual gipsy -admirers as they pass round the “loving cup.”</p> -<p>I often wonder what kind of song it is the poor child’s -inhuman mother sings to while away the pleasurable duties of her -station and the silent hours of the night; and while her -offspring lies like a dog crouched on a heap of straw, half -starved, dressed in rags, filth, and vermin, in some tent at the -bottom of some dark lane by the side of a wood, listening with -wide-open eyes to the screeching of game and weazels, the howling -of the wind, and the beating of the hail and rain against her -thin midnight shelter from stormy blasts.</p> -<p>While in Scotland a friend told me that recently he was in a -hairdresser’s shop, and while he was undergoing shampooing -and a scenting process, a poor, half-frozen, half-naked, Scotch -gipsy girl, with dishevelled hair, came, <a -name="page333"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 333</span>with a -small tin can in her hand, begging with tears in her eyes for -some hot water. My friend was struck with the poor gipsy -girl’s sorrowful, soul-mourning condition and request, and -he asked her what she wanted the hot water for. -“Please, my good gentleman,” said the girl, -tremblingly, “my mother’s hair is frozen to the -ground, and I want a little hot water to loosen it with. -Mother can’t get up till it is loosened, and there is no -one else in the tent to fetch the water and to get her up but me, -sir.” What a tale of sorrow did the poor child -relate. How sadly true is this of the gipsies and show -people, and other travelling children all over our highly -favoured and heavenly exalted country to-day. Our gipsies, -by their own wrong-doings, lying, thieving, poaching, cheating, -fortune-telling, idleness, profanity, sabbath-breaking, and other -deadly sins, have bound themselves to the ground under our eyes, -and we have stood by with our hands in our pockets, winking, -blinking, and chuckling at their heartrending condition. -Some thirty thousand gipsy children have, for the last three -hundred and fifty years, received from door to door cuffs, kicks, -crumbs, crusts, smiles, curses, and flattery, but have never, -except in a flickering way, had extended to them the hand of -practical help and sympathy. They have lived on our -commons, in our lanes, by the side of our woods, in our dark, -black alleys, in our prisons and workhouses. The little -seedlings of hope that God has planted in the breasts of the poor -gipsy children, we have, instead of encouraging them, trampled -upon, and the little tender buds and blades as they peeped forth -we have trodden down.</p> -<p>The children are lying and dying in the mud, with none to -deliver. As a result of our negligence and indifference to -the wants of the poor gipsy child, we shall some day have a crop -of thistles, hard, sharp, and strong, difficult to handle and -more difficult to uproot, think about it <a -name="page334"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 334</span>lightly as -we may. The cries of the gipsy children have filled the -earth, and reached heaven for help; but we have barred the school -doors against them, and locked in their faces the gates through -which they should have been led to health, prosperity, -civilization, Christianity, and heaven. Gipsy women’s -wails and gipsy children’s cries are going upward and -upward; and to-day the gipsy, show, and canal children are at our -doors dressed in rags and dirt, with matted hair, and tears in -their eyes, beseeching us to take them into our embraces and -soul-saving institutions, to lead them heavenward and to God, and -still we refuse to listen to their entreaties. Shall we -refuse to do so any longer? God grant that there may be a -speedy breaking of bars, bolts, and locks that have bound our -gipsies, show people, and their children to their debasing -customs, and that our noble Queen, Senators, and Lawgivers may -open the doors of the blessed institutions with which our seagirt -isle is covered to our gipsies and their children without one -moment’s delay, before our candlestick is removed and glory -departed.</p> -<p>The Englishmen of our England of to-day have it within their -power to show to the world how to improve the condition of the -gipsy and canal children as no other nation has ever had before, -without trampling under foot liberty and civil rights. -Shall we with folded hands stand by with the blood of the canal -and gipsy children hanging upon our garments, with awful effect, -while the lambs of Christ’s flock are groping their way to -misery, ruin, and woe? Shall we put out our hand to save -the children? It is for my countrymen to answer -“Yes” or “No.”</p> -<p>I asked my friend John Harris, the Cornish poet, to kindly -help on the cause of the gipsy children, and right gladly he did -it; and here is his touching poem. May it sink deep into -our hearts!</p> -<h3><a name="page335"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -335</span>ZUTILLA.</h3> -<p class="poetry">“<span class="smcap">The</span> day is -done, Zutilla,<br /> - And yonder shines a star;<br /> -Our camp is on the moorlands,<br /> - From busy homes afar.<br /> -No church bells murmur near us,<br /> - No echoes from the town,<br /> -And o’er the lonely common<br /> - The night comes slowly down.</p> -<p class="poetry">“Zutilla, thou art dying!<br /> - Once by the riverside<br /> -Our tents stood in the sunshine<br /> - Upon the wasteland wide.<br /> -Then thou wert but a baby,<br /> - So beautiful and bright;<br /> -I kissed thee in my gladness,<br /> - And wept with fond delight.</p> -<p class="poetry">“Came from the leafy hollow,<br /> - A man with hoary hair;<br /> -His voice was soft as summer<br /> - When lilies scent the air:<br /> -This Book he gave, Zutilla,<br /> - Against our hour of need,<br /> -Which surely is the present;<br /> - But oh! we cannot read.</p> -<p class="poetry">“How pale thou art, Zutilla!<br /> - I fear thy hour is come.<br /> -Is there a God of mercy?<br /> - And will He take thee home?<br /> -This Book might tell us plainly<br /> - Now in our hour of need,<br /> -Not having any teacher:<br /> - But oh! we cannot read.</p> -<p class="poetry">“Gone, gone art thou, Zutilla!<br /> - My tears shall flow for thee,<br /> -A gipsy’s darling daughter,<br /> - The sun and moon to me.<br /> -Thy mother’s heart is breaking,<br /> - ’Tis well it thus should bleed;<br /> -For nothing gives me comfort,<br /> - Now in my hour of need.</p> -<p class="poetry"><a name="page336"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -336</span>“I know not how to utter<br /> - One word of prayer to Him!<br /> -Will no one teach the gipsy,<br /> - Whose life and death are dim?<br /> -Come, come to us, ye upright,<br /> - Who walk this favoured sod,<br /> -And teach us from your Bible,<br /> - And tell us of your God.</p> -<p class="poetry">“Yes, I am old and feeble,<br /> - And sinks life’s flickering spark.<br /> -Oh! thousands of my people<br /> - Are dying in the dark!<br /> -The gipsy children perish,<br /> - Like mine, before my eyes:<br /> -O come, O come, and teach us<br /> - The passage to the skies!</p> -<p class="poetry">“My wakeful eyes are burning,<br /> - My soul is rocked with dread:<br /> -O England, rouse thee! rouse thee!<br /> - And hasten to the dead.<br /> -If thou wilt do thy duty,<br /> - Another light shall gleam<br /> -Upon the gipsy’s tent-tops<br /> - Our fathers have not seen.”</p> -<p>God (<i>Doovel</i>) bless (<i>párik</i>) the (<i>o</i>) -brickfield (<i>chikino-tan</i>), boat (<i>paanéngro</i>), -and (<i>Ta</i>) gipsy women (<i>joóvyaw</i>) and -(<i>Ta</i>) children (<i>chaviés</i>), and (<i>Ta</i>) may -(<i>Te</i>) their (<i>lénti</i>) tears (<i>tchingar</i>) -be (<i>vel</i>) noticed (<i>lel-veéna</i>) and (<i>Ta</i>) -help (<i>kair-posh</i>) come (<i>avél</i>) from -(<i>avrí</i>) heaven (<i>mi-dúvelsko</i>) and -(<i>Ta</i>) my (<i>meéro</i>) country (<i>tem</i>). -So (<i>Ajáw</i>) be (<i>vel</i>) it (<i>les</i>), and more -(<i>kómi</i>).</p> -<h3>NOTE.</h3> -<p>In response to the canal and gipsy children’s prayers, -cries, and tears, the only answer coming as yet is as follows: -With the assistance of the Government, represented by the Right -Hon. Sir Charles Dilke, M.P., President of the Local Government -Board; the Right Hon. A. J. Mundella, M.P., Vice-President of the -Committee of Council on Education; J. T. Hibbert, Esq., M.P., -Parliamentary <a name="page337"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -337</span>Secretary to the local Government Board, Mr. Burt, -M.P., introduced the Canal Boats Act (1877, 46 Vict.) Amendment -Bill on April 9th, 1883, and it was read the first time. -When the Bill came on for the second reading on April 18th, Mr. -Salt, M.P., for Stafford, met it with a “blocking” -amendment as follows: “After the Second reading of the -Canal Boats Act (1877) Amendment Bill, to move that it be -referred to the Select Committee on Canals.” <i>The -Daily News</i> in a leader states: “Mr. Salt intends to -move that the Canal Boats Act (1877) Amendment Bill be referred -to a Select Committee. The motion, if carried, would shelve -this useful and unpretending Bill for another -session.” I was in the Speaker’s gallery, and -saw with sorrowful pangs Mr. Salt move his successful check to -the Bill. This was no sooner done than Mr. P. A. Taylor, -M.P. for Leicester, took his hat off to “scotch” the -further progress of the Bill. Notwithstanding the -entreaties of Earl Stanhope, Mr. W. E. Forster, M.P., Mr. Pell, -M.P., myself and others, Mr. Salt refused to drop his -“blocking” amendment, although Mr. Salt and Mr. -Taylor knew full well that any amendment they might propose when -the Bill is in Committee before the “House” would be -considered. Later on Mr. Warton, M.P. for Bridport, put his -universal block on, as he always does when measures for the -country’s welfare come to the front and are likely to pass -into law. In the week commencing April 30, 1883, no less -than twenty-nine “blocks” had emanated from this -“honourable member’s” brain to be placed -against the legislative action of Parliament for the -country’s good.</p> -<p>On Friday, April 27th, the <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, in a -leader, states Mr. Algernon Egerton, M.P. for Wigan, has -“blocked” the Canal Boats Act Amendment Bill brought -forward by Mr. Burt on behalf of Mr. George Smith, of -Coalville.</p> -<p>It seems inexplicable that Mr. Taylor, who, as a Member of the -“House,” helped me to get the Brickyard Act of 1871 -and the Canal Boats Act of 1877 passed, should at the last moment -take steps to prevent the success of the Act of 1877 which my -Amending Bill would bring about, and with but little cost or -inconvenience to all parties. Both Mr. P. A. Taylor and Mr. -Salt are friends to the cause I have in hand—at least I -hope so; but to check the Bill was a backward move.</p> -<p>To turn aside the Christianizing and civilizing institutions -of the country from exerting their influence upon 60,000 poor -canal and gipsy children is no light undertaking. It cannot -be the cause of the poor canal and gipsy children that they wish -to throw cold water upon, but upon my unworthy self, who has had -the audacity, against immense odds and under tremendous -difficulties, to take the <a name="page338"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 338</span>cause of the brickyard, canal, and -gipsy children in hand. Time and patience weave trials into -pleasures and difficulties into crowns.</p> -<p>In the meantime the children’s cries are going east, -west, north, and south, upward and heavenward for help. -Shall it be given? They are more in need of it by far than -the children of other working classes. Oh, that a speedy -answer may come, and the children delivered from the vortex of -ruin and the jaws of death by the hand of the most enlighted -Government in the world!</p> -<h2><a name="page339"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -339</span>APPENDIX A.<br /> -MY PLANS EXPLAINED AND OBJECTIONS ANSWERED.</h2> -<p>To illustrate more fully the plans I suggest for improving the -condition of the canal, gipsy, and other travelling children, and -to bring to the surface all the weak as well as the strong points -which the working out might reveal, I cannot do better, I think, -than introduce my readers to an imaginary large gathering of my -friends, with a real object in hand, in one of the Committee -rooms at the House of Commons, which list of friends, including -Lord Aberdare, Lord Aberdeen, Lord Stanhope, Sir William V. -Harcourt, M.P., Sir Richard A. Cross, M.P., Sir Charles Dilke, -M.P., Mr. W. E. Forster, M.P., Mr. J. T. Hibbert, M.P., Mr. -Mundella, M.P., Mr. Alexander McArthur, M.P., Mr. W. H. Wills, -M.P., Mr. A. Pell, M.P., Mr. Salt, M.P., Mr. Thomas Burt, M.P., -Mr. Frank A. Bevan, Mr. Edwin Lawrence, will be found in my -previous works, and earlier in this, together with many other -valuable friends and well-wishers to the cause of the poor -neglected brickyard, canal, and gipsy children. Their names -will ever be remembered and spoken of by me with the profoundest -respect. They are names that stand high in the legislative, -literary, press, philanthropic, social, and religious annals of -our country, irrespective of creed, sect, or party; and nothing, -had space been at my disposal, would have given me greater -pleasure than that of showing my gratitude to them by placing all -their names upon these pages. <a name="citation339"></a><a -href="#footnote339" class="citation">[339]</a></p> -<p><i>Question</i> 1. “Would you explain to us more -fully than you have <a name="page340"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 340</span>done in your Congress papers and -‘Gipsy Life,’ the plans you refer to for bringing -about an improvement in the condition of the gipsy and other -travelling children?”</p> -<p>In the first place, as I have previously stated, all the vans -and other temporary movable dwellings should be registered in a -manner analogous to that provided under the Canal Boats Act of -1877. The certificate to be renewable annually at any of -the Urban or Rural Sanitary Authorities in the country, the owner -of the tent or van paying a sum of ten shillings per annum; to be -equally divided between the local authorities and the Local -Government Board.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 2. “Will you explain to us how the -ten shillings is to be collected and divided between the -government and the local authorities?”</p> -<p>I would propose that the five shillings paid to the Government -should be paid in the form of a charge upon each certificate; or, -in other words, each certificate of registration should be -stamped with a five shilling stamp, and collected by the -Government as the other stamps are collected. The other -five shillings should be kept by the local authorities for their -trouble and expense in the matter.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 3. “How do you propose dealing -with the fines?”</p> -<p>The fines should be handed over to the local sanitary -authorities, who, I suggest, with the sanction of the Local -Government Board, should enforce the Act.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 4. “How would you meet the case of -a man who, with his family, is at the end of the year, when his -annual certificate expires, a hundred miles away from the place -where he obtained his certificate of registration?”</p> -<p>I will try to illustrate my meaning in this way. Suppose -that a man registered his van at Tunstall, Staffordshire, in the -first instance, say, on January, 1883, but during the year he had -wandered all over the country almost, and on January, 1884, he -was at Northampton with his van and family. I propose that -he should take his last certificate of registration to the -sanitary authority at Northampton and get it renewed. This -plan works out right in the case of hawkers. Of course, the -van would have to be brought to the officers, or at any rate, it -would have to be where it could be inspected.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 5. “You say in your Congress -papers that the certificate should be taken on the first of -January in each year. Now suppose a man wanted to register -his van in October, would the owner be required to pay the sum of -ten shillings for the remaining two months of the year, and then -be required to take out another certificate on the following -January?”</p> -<p>According to the plan sketched out in my Congress paper it -would be so; but on further consideration it would, I think, be -much <a name="page341"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -341</span>more simple, fair, and easy if the certificates were -taken out for a year at any time or place the owner thought fit -to apply for them.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 6. “Will you explain why it is -that you think the certificates of registration should be renewed -annually? Would it not be sufficient if the vans and -temporary miserable dwellings were registered only -once?”</p> -<p>No, I do not think it would. Vans, as in the case of -canal boats, often change hands, and to keep an oversight of and -be able to trace the vans through all their changes would require -a lot of official and intricate machinery to be set in motion -which would not be needful if the certificates of registration -were taken out every year. Every application for a -certificate or a renewal of a certificate would bring the owner -to the front. The changes taking place during the year -could be endorsed upon the back of the certificate, and with the -transfer of the van I would hand over the certificate of -registration in force to the new owner.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 7. “What is the advantage to be -gained by registration?”</p> -<p>Registration is the first step towards the advantages that are -to follow. By registration the owners and occupiers of the -vans are known, and the School Board officers and sanitary -inspectors have the initial powers to bring their influences to -bear upon the children growing up without education. The -gipsies and other travellers as a rule pass through the country -under so many different names that unless the vans are registered -and their owners known it would be impossible to carry out the -reforms that are needed. I have not found one traveller who -would object to their vans being registered, provided it could be -brought about in an easy and inexpensive manner.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 8. “Do you not think that ten -shillings per annum would be a heavy tax upon the gipsies and -other travellers?”</p> -<p>Not if we take into account that poor people living in houses -have to pay rates and taxes to a much greater amount than I -propose that travellers should be called upon to pay for their -certificates. In fact, they will be much the gainers if my -system of a free education for the gipsy, canal, and other -travelling children be carried out. For the ten shillings -they would, as a rule, receive more than thirty shillings in -educational advantages and remission of school fees.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 9. “How will the sanitary and -other authorities know, as the vans pass through the country, -whether they have been registered or not without the inspectors -putting the owners to unnecessary inconvenience and -annoyance?”</p> -<p>I propose that the name of the owner, the place where the van -was registered, and the number of the certificate should be -painted on the vans and other temporary and movable -dwellings.</p> -<p><a name="page342"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -342</span><i>Question</i> 10. “Do you not think that -the travellers and gipsies would be much inconvenienced by having -to register their vans every year?”</p> -<p>No, not if they were habitable, and in a fair condition in -other ways. It would not require more than an hour once a -year. The forms and certificates would only take a few -minutes to fill up.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 11. “How do you propose bringing -about the education of the gipsy and other travelling -children?”</p> -<p>I would do as I have proposed in my “Gipsy Life” -and Congress papers, viz., establish a free educational pass -book, which book should not cost the parents more than one -shilling, and on the plan set forth in my “Canal Adventures -by Moonlight,” p. 162. The pass book would do for all -the children living in the van or canal boat, and the child or -children presenting it to any schoolmaster connected with any -properly organized public school would claim at his hands a free -education for so long a time as they presented themselves for -admission. With the system of pass books there will not be -the difficulties that would have been created by the pass-book -system in the village dame school days of yore. Day -schools, as you know, are now conducted upon the standard and -code system. I will try to illustrate how the plan would -work out in practice. Opposite my room windows across the -green, all last week was an old tumble-down van in which there -was a man, his wife, and seven children. Five of the -children were of school age—none of them could tell a -letter; but, supposing that Tom was in the First Standard, Betty -in the Second, Bill in the Third, Polly in the Infants’, -and Jack in the Fourth Standards, these classifications and -particulars would be entered in the pass book, and supposing that -the gipsy had sent the children with their pass book to the -National School on his arrival in the village, the schoolmaster -would immediately he had opened the book have seen to which -standard each child belonged, and would have sent him or her into -it.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 12. “Do you not think that it will -cause the schoolmaster extra trouble; and how do you propose to -meet this difficulty?”</p> -<p>I have talked to several schoolmasters upon the subject, and -they think that all attendances of travelling children should be -entered and paid for at the rate of those children who pass their -examinations. Each child who passes the usual examinations -costs the country about tenpence per week, and I have been told -by schoolmasters that if this sum was forthcoming from the -Government for the gipsy and travelling children—which is -the system I propose to meet the case of the canal -children—they would gladly receive them into their schools; -or, in other words, the Government must pay the schoolmaster one -penny for each attendance, which should be entered in <a -name="page343"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 343</span>his school -returns to the Education Department; the same course in some -respects which is taken with pauper children.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 13. “What plans do you propose for -granting the gipsy and canal children their certificates of -qualification?”</p> -<p>I would propose that the children should be allowed to present -themselves at any school for an examination at the usual time; -<i>i.e.</i>, provided they had made two hundred attendances -during the year, and that such attendances had been duly entered -in pass books and signed by the schoolmasters at whose schools -the children had attended; or that they satisfied the school -attendance officers or School Board authorities, wherever their -vans were registered, that the gipsy children were being educated -privately, or in other ways to their satisfaction.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 14. “Do you not think that there -will be much difficulty in getting the children to make two -hundred attendances during the year?”</p> -<p>No. As a rule, all travelling vans, canal boats, and -other miserable dwellings are not on the move more than half the -time. Frequently they will stay for weeks together in one -place. And I would also, to enable the children to make -their number of attendances, reckon two attendances in a -Sunday-school equal to one day-school attendance.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 15. “Do you not think that parents -of town children will object to their sitting by the side of -gipsy and canal children?”</p> -<p>In some instances the parents might object to it, as you say, -but generally they would not. I think that two-thirds of -the children now travelling the country are the children of -parents who once followed town and settled employments. If -the children I want to introduce to the day schools throughout -the country had been gipsy children of past years, with all their -evil habits manifested at every step of their lives, I can -imagine that strong objection would be raised against their -introduction to English school life. Our present gipsy -children are, as a rule, our travelling gutter children. I -think that the mixing of the travelling children with the town -children at school will be one of the first steps towards -bringing them back to civilized usages and habits. At the -present time gipsy and canal children are the outcasts of -society, unknown and unrecognized by others, except by those of -their own kith and kin. The mother has at the present time -no object to “dress up her children for.” With -its introduction to school, natural instincts, parental feelings, -love, and hope are brought once more into action, and generally -the natural consequence will be that the mother will send her -children to school as clean and well dressed as other children -are. To have separate schools for canal and gipsy children -will not be a workable plan. Sometimes for weeks the -teacher would scarcely have anything to do; gipsies especially -fluctuate very much.</p> -<p><a name="page344"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -344</span><i>Question</i> 16. “We should be glad if -you could give us additional reasons and facts, and explain a -little more to us why you think that vans should be registered -annually, or at any rate have their certificates -renewed.”</p> -<p>In the first place, I would say that the non-annual -registration was, and is so still, one of the principal causes -why the Canal Boats Act of 1877 is not so satisfactory as -desired. The children living in canal beats under the Act -of 1877 really belong to the place at which the boats are -registered. This is as it should be, and I want the -principle of localizing or identifying the canal children with -some place extended to all travelling children living in vans; -but that identification must give the parents a choice of -selecting other districts or localities from time to time as -changes of circumstances and other things might require. -Under the present system, when once the boat is registered at a -place, the children, under the Act of 1877, belong to that place -till they are past school age, and no provision is made under the -Act for changes which often occur in a boatman’s life, or -would occur in a gipsy’s life. I will try to -illustrate my meaning more clearly by taking a case in point as -regards the carrying out of the Canal Boats Act, which would -apply with equal force to children living in vans. When the -Canal Boats Act of 1877 came into operation, either through the -strictness or laxity of other registration authorities, more than -eight hundred canal boatmen and boat-owners from all parts of the -country applied to the Runcorn registration authorities to have -their boats registered. Of course they registered the -boats, and obtained the five-shilling fees. After a time it -was found out that the School Board authorities at Runcorn were -called upon to provide school accommodation for nearly two -thousand boat children, which they could not do. At any -rate, they did not wish to saddle the town with the expenses of -educating boat children from all parts of the country, and from -whom they received nothing in return; and the consequence is the -two thousand boat children whose floating houses are registered -at Runcorn are going without education to-day, and their patents -cannot, so long as this registration exists, place them in any -other School Board district in this country. The annual -registration which I propose will give the boating and gipsy -parents the opportunity of changing their homes or headquarters -without detriment to the children, and the establishment of more -registration districts would, I am thoroughly convinced, place -the matter on a satisfactory and workable basis. If John -Jones during the year ceased working his boat in and out of -Runcorn, and took to Paddington’s scented waters, he could, -by registering his boat at Paddington at the time of the renewal -of his certificate, put his children under the London <a -name="page345"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 345</span>School -Board, which he cannot do under the present system. To meet -the case of the gipsy and van children, any sanitary authority -should be a registration authority, or at any rate at those towns -where hawker’s licences can be obtained.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 17. “How would your plan work out -in the case of those families who live part of the year in vans, -and the other part of the year in houses?”</p> -<p>I would propose that their vans should be registered at those -registration districts in which the owner of the van has his -settled home. I will illustrate this in the following -manner. Suppose an owner of a van, after travelling the -country during the summer months, draws his van into a yard and -takes to house dwelling during the winter. Of course, the -children during the winter months will be under the School Board -authorities, at the place where his house is rated for the relief -of the poor and other rates; but supposing—as is often the -case—with the dawn of spring the gipsy traveller desires to -leave his house during the summer mouths, and takes his wife and -children round the country, I would suggest that he should -provide himself with a free educational pass book, and that he -should be compelled to send his children to some day school the -required number of times, and it would be the duty of the School -Board officers where his van is registered, together with the -School Board officers where the vans may be temporarily located, -to examine the pass book, and to see that the educational clauses -were carried out. In case of village feasts the children -should be sent to the next village school. Children can -easily make the number of attendances.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 18. “What is your opinion about -the education gained in this way?”</p> -<p>It will not be the best education in the world, but it will be -a thousand times better than none at all. It would cause -them to see some of the advantages of education, and it would -start their young ideas up civilizing channels.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 19. “Would it not be a hardship -upon the parents if the children were not allowed to work in -connection with their vans and shows until they had passed the -Third Standard?”</p> -<p>They would not be in a worse position than other working -classes are. As a rule, they spend much more money in drink -than labourers in our towns and villages do. All the -working classes, except the two I refer to, are prohibited from -sending their children to work before they have passed the Fourth -Standard, and I am sure that the little gipsy, acrobat and other -children attending stalls, shows, and cocoa-nut establishments -endure more trying occupations, long hours, and severe toil than -our factory children.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 20. “How would you deal with those -gipsies, and others <a name="page346"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 346</span>who are living and huddling together -in old vans and other places, whose travelling homes the Sanitary -Inspectors would not pass as habitable?”</p> -<p>There would be three ways open to them: First, they must be -compelled to hire a habitable van, which vans can be had on hire -at Bristol and other places; or, secondly, they must go into -settled homes; or, thirdly, we must apply the plan I propose for -granting them long leases of common or waste land at a nominal -rent.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 21. “Will you explain why it is -that you would charge ten shillings per annum for vans, and only -five shillings per annum for canal boats?”</p> -<p>Canal boats are engaged in furthering commerce, and thus add -to the wealth of the country. In the case of gipsy vans, -the owners use the roads of the country and pay neither rates nor -taxes, and they do not, except those who use their vans to hawk -goods round the country, add to the welfare of the nation, and -for that reason I would suggest a little heavier registration -fee. Gipsies and canal boatmen can move about the country -for centuries and not be called upon to pay one farthing for any -kind of rates, which is a pleasure they ought to enjoy without -one moment’s delay.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 22. “You say in your Canal Boats -Act Amendment Bill, and you want the principle extended to vans, -that no child or young person should be allowed to work for -either hire or profit on Sundays. Would not this be rather -hard upon poverty?”</p> -<p>The law prohibits children and young persons being employed in -other occupations, and there is no earthly reason why the poor -travelling children should toil seven days a week. I claim -that if children employed all-week in light healthy work are -exempted from Sunday labour, then most surely children tramping -the country in vans should have the same right. In Section -21 Clause 3 of the Factory and Workshop Act, 1878, 41 Vict. ch. -16, it is laid down that “a child, young person, or woman -shall not be employed in a factory or workshop” with some -exceptions; so you will see that I do not go so far as the -Section I have quoted does, although the travelling children need -the protection more.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 23. “How would you do in the case -of boats conveying perishable goods?”</p> -<p>The boats should be worked by adults as fly boats are.</p> -<p><i>Question</i>. 24. “Do you not think that your -plan would interfere too much with the liberty of -Englishmen? Ought not a traveller to be allowed to live -where he likes and how he likes?”</p> -<p>Yes: providing it were good for the nation and everybody did -the same. My plan would not interfere with the liberty of -the gipsies and other travellers nearly so much as the law -already interferes with the <a name="page347"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 347</span>liberties of others of her -Majesty’s subjects. People living in ships, houses, -palaces, cellars, barracks, cabs, coaches, and carriages have to -conform to healthy rules and sanitary requirements. I knew -a case of a travelling house conveying small-pox to a large town -and causing more than 2,000 deaths. I have known over and -over again of cases where infectious diseases have been carried -through the country by means of canal boats and vans. Only -the other day a man, wife, and five children came to our door -with an old tumbledown pony and rickety waggon. The little -box upon the top of the waggon, used as “sleeping -apartments” for the whole of the family, would not be -seventy cubic feet of space. Even in this little crib the -five children were all ill of a highly infectious disease, which -they were carrying through the country. The two main -influences I want to bring to bear upon the little travellers and -their homes are the universally acknowledged social laws for -elevating those living in the gutter, viz., education and -sanitation. With the thorough application of these to -little gipsies I shall be satisfied, and then the children will -have made the first step in a gradual improvement, leading them -to Christianity and civilization, so that they shall be strong -enough in brain and muscle to turn the world upside down and -downside up. I want the road to school made easier than the -road to jail, and I would prefer seeing the sanitary inspector -and School Board officer walk into the gipsy vans than either the -policeman or the doctor.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 25. “How do you propose carrying -out the Act? Would you leave the matter entirely in the -hands of the local authorities?”</p> -<p>I propose that the registration and local inspection should be -done by the local authorities in the town or places through which -the vans passed or stayed, as the case might be. I do not -think that it would be wise to place the actual working out of -the plans I propose in the hands of the Local Government -Board. The Local Government Board should only be called -upon to appoint one or two Inspectors to visit the fairs and -other places occasionally to see that the local authorities -properly carried out the Act. I recommend the same course -in the “Canal Boats Act Amendment Bill.”</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 26. “How would you propose paying -the Government Inspectors? Would their salaries be an -increased charge upon the Treasury?”</p> -<p>No: the Inspectors would not cost the country one farthing, as -the profits arising from the 5s. stamped registration -certificates would more than pay the Government for their -expenses of supervision; and the other 5s., together with the -fines, would satisfy the local authorities.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 27. “What number of travelling -families are there in the <a name="page348"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 348</span>country who would be called upon to -take out annual registration certificates?”</p> -<p>I should think at a rough calculation there will be between -six and eight thousand, which would yield a sum of £1,500 -to £2,000 annually.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 28. “You refer in your Congress -papers to the granting of a portion of land to certain classes of -the gipsies who are desirous of settling down, on long leases at -a nominal rent. Do you think the gipsies would agree to -this plan?”</p> -<p>I do most assuredly—<i>i.e.</i>, if any reliance is to -be placed upon their own statements, and I think they are worthy -of credence. In the first place, the land should be granted -to those gipsies who have been on the road during the last twelve -months only. Secondly, I would grant to each family of man, -wife, and two children, four acres; this would, after the first -year, enable a man to keep a cow and grow vegetables enough for -the family. Supposing there were three thousand families, -they would require 12,000 acres of waste land. To meet the -expenses, and to provide ways and means, a society should be -founded principally upon philanthropic and business principles -combined, and this—or, better still, the -Government—should grant small sums of money to the tenants -by way of loan at a small interest, to enable them to erect a -hut, and to provide food for the first year. Of course the -money should be advanced gradually as the work and other things -progressed. I should think that £100 for each family -would be amply sufficient to tide them over the first year, to be -spent as follows: £30 for the hut; £40 for one -year’s keep; £17 for a little Welsh cow; £3 for -pig and fowls; and £10 for tools and implements. The -Society advancing the money should have a lien upon the land -until all the money advanced had been paid back. Proper -safeguards would have to be taken on all sides.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 29. “What would be the ultimate -effect of this plan of allotting land to the gipsies and other -travellers?”</p> -<p>The gain would be infinite. The men, women, and children -would be drawn from a life of vagabondage, theft, and idleness to -one of work and profit to themselves and the country’s -good. Of course all would require time to work out. -If the three thousand families were eating bread of their own -earning, and cultivating twelve thousand acres of land which is -at present bringing forth nothing but moor game and partridges, -the results would be heavenly and eternal pleasure to themselves -and the country. Any of my plans would be a thousand times -better than destroying parental responsibility by taking their -children from them by force and sending them to industrial -schools, “and turning their parents loose” upon -society to inculcate their idle, lying, cheating habits and -customs into others <a name="page349"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 349</span>they may be brought in contact with, -who stand ready with open mouths to receive gipsy lies, damning -tricks, cheating, and lore as gospel.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 30. “On behalf of the various -Christian churches throughout the country, would you kindly tell -us what steps you would take for improving the spiritual -condition of the gipsies, canal boatmen, and other -travellers? Would you organize a missionary society with a -staff of officials, secretaries, travellers, agents, &c., -with headquarters in London?”</p> -<p>No. If such an organization was started it is my decided -conviction that but little good would be the result. -Missionaries, like other folks, desire to see the fruits of their -labours, which, owing to the fluctuating habits of the boaters, -gipsies, and others, they are unable to see. The only way -in which missionary organization could work successfully would be -to have a few vans and temporary booths, such as some of the show -people use as “boxing establishments,” and to place -them in charge of a good man and his wife, who would live in the -van and visit some of the principal fairs in the country. -Religious services and a Sunday-school could be conducted in the -booths on Sundays, and a day-school for those children whom the -law would allow to travel with their parents on week days, or at -any rate on the morning of fair days. The man and his wife -could conduct a religious service at nights, and also distribute -during the day, when not engaged in the school, religious -periodicals and other literature of the kind. By far the -better plan will be for the various religious denominations in -each town to set to work in right good earnest to remedy the evil -as it comes periodically into their midst. Local missionary -societies might be formed, composed of all sections of -Christ’s Church, to erect a temporary wooden booth to stand -side by side of the devil’s booths during fair time. -Here religious services could be conducted by various societies -in their turn. The members of the Church of England to have -the use of the booth, say on Saturday; the Wesleyans, Monday; the -Congregationalists on Tuesday; the Baptists on Wednesday; the -Primitive Methodists on Thursday, and so on through the week, the -various sections following each other in their proper -order. Sometimes it would happen that the Wesleyans would -have the booth on the Saturday night, and the Church of England -on the Sunday. I am not a believer in a work of this kind -being left to a few. It should be the duty of all -Christians and philanthropists to help forward the cause of the -children. Those who give money would give time too, if -asked and set to work. As a rule the givers are the -workers, if they know when to begin and how to begin. -Another plan would be to follow the usual course carried out in -missioning back streets, &c., viz., to sing, distribute -tracts <a name="page350"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -350</span>among the travellers, gipsies, and others, speaking at -the same time faithful words of counsel, reproof, warning, -caution. Whatever course is followed, the persons engaged -in trying to improve the condition of the gipsies and others must -not go about it in a kind of stand-off manner. When they -want to shake hands with either canal boatmen or gipsies, their -fingers must not be put out as if they were tied upon the end of -a cold poker, and they were afraid of the rough grip of a gipsy -crushing it to powder. A warm heart and a pleasant word are -passports that will admit any man or woman into boat cabins, -gipsy tents, and travellers’ rooms. A prying -inquisitiveness these people abhor and detest, and they will -resent it to the utmost. Any little matters relating to -their lives, habits, &c., they will tell to friends whose -object is their good without “pumping.” Whoever -ministers to the boatmen, gipsies, or travellers must be prepared -to eat at their tables, and drink out of their cups, even if it -be on the ground among mud, out of a dirty basin, and served with -dirtier hands. They do not think they are dirty, and those -who visit them must, if they mean to do any good among them, shut -their eyes and hold their tongues to things they do not -like. Little acts of kindness are not forgotten by them, -and a word of faithful reproof they will -appreciate—<i>i.e.</i>, if it comes from a man or woman who -means their present and eternal welfare. I have said most -hard and faithful things to them, as most people know, for which -I have not at their hands been subjected to insult or -abuse. In a few cases where I have been misunderstood, I -have come in for my share, but afterwards they have been sorry -for it. The electrical sparks of sympathy in their nature -will not manifest themselves at the touch of selfish hands. -It is only the love and sympathy in the hearts of those who visit -them that brings out the finer feelings of the boaters and -gipsies to perform deeds of love. I now say again, what I -have often said before, that the best missionary agency for -effecting their spiritual good will be the proper carrying out of -an Act on the lines I have laid down. When once the -children are taught to read, the next step should be to see that -books of the right kind are placed in their hands, and, with the -blessing of Heaven, the first step towards a moral reformation in -the habits, lives, and customs of our gipsies, canal boatmen, and -other travelling tribes and classes, will have been taken for -their eternal welfare.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 31. “Can you give us any proof of -gipsies having taken to civilized customs and usages, having -risen in the social scale equal to other law-abiding -subjects?”</p> -<p>I will only give you a few names. One of the best and -sweetest singers who ever sang before the Russian nobility was a -gipsy damsel. One of the best actresses that ever put her -foot upon an English stage <a name="page351"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 351</span>was a gipsy. A celebrated -Scotch clergyman of this late day is of gipsy parentage; and so -is also one of the present-day Wesleyan ministers. Some -sculpture and carving in the large hall of the House of Commons -is from gipsy hands; at any rate there was more than two-thirds -of gipsy blood in the artist’s veins—I have been told -that he was a thorough gipsy. The wife of one of our -celebrated London architects is, or nearly so, of gipsy -parentage; and the beautiful little songsters she can paint are -most charming. You could almost imagine when you see her -handiwork that you could hear the pretty little creatures -warbling and piping forth God’s praises. They adorn -many drawing-rooms. Recently I have heard of two gipsies in -Surrey who own two rows of houses as a result of their civilized -habits. Others could be named who have saved money, and are -a credit to themselves and the country. John Bunyan was a -gipsy, as every one knows who has read his work and studied his -temperament, habits, character, early life, and -surroundings. If there had never been a gipsy in the world -but John Bunyan who had risen out of a wigwam, he would afford -sufficient proof that gipsies, if taken by the hand, can step -towards heaven, and draw others up after them. I knew a -number of gipsies who have lived decent lives and have died happy -in God. There are to be seen to-day gipsies wending their -way to God’s house on Sundays, preparing themselves for the -changes which await us all.</p> -<p><i>Question</i> 32. “Before we part we should like -to ask you what effect legislation would have upon the travellers -and gipsies? Would the numbers increase or -decrease?”</p> -<p>With the proper carrying out of the education clauses and -sanitary plans I propose, wisely and firmly, the number of -gipsies would very soon decrease, and the sanitary inspectors and -School Board officers would be the instruments for bringing this -desirable result about. Persecution, policeman, and the -jail will cause gipsyism to grow, while education and sanitation -will divert it into healthy channels.</p> -<p style="text-align: right">GEORGE SMITH, <i>of -Coalville</i>.</p> -<p><span class="smcap">Welton Daventry</span>,<br /> - <i>December</i> -31, 1882.</p> -<h2><a name="page352"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -352</span>APPENDIX B.<br /> -LETTER TO THE RIGHT HON. EARL ABERDARE.</h2> -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> following remarks are the -substance of a letter I sent to the Right Hon. Earl -Aberdare—who has been a friend to the cause I have in hand, -and more than kind to myself—on May 24, 1882, in reply to -some questions his lordship put to me with reference to some of -the details of my plans for properly carrying out the Canal Boats -Act of 1877; and as they will apply with equal force to the -carrying out of my gipsy plans when my Canal Amending Bill is -passed, I deem it right that they should find a place here.</p> -<p>“At the present time there will be, at a rough -calculation, nearly 10,000 boats registered. In 1879 there -were over 5,000 boats registered, and the number, owing -principally to my continued agitation, has kept increasing. -Supposing that there are only 10,000 boats registered—with -the prospect of another 5,000—this would, if the -registration certificates were stamped with a half-crown stamp, -as I suggest to be paid by the boatowner, produce an annual -amount of £1,250, which would be quite sufficient to cover -the expenses of Government supervision, inquiries, and annual -reports.</p> -<p>“More than half of the hundred registration authorities -throughout the country do not pay any increased salaries to the -local registration officers for registering the boats, and the -little inspection that has been done by them.</p> -<p>“In some instances £10 per annum has been added to -the salaries of the officers. In some cases more than -£10, and in other cases less than £10 has been -added. In one instance the amount of £1 per boat has -been given to the medical officer of health for registering the -boats.</p> -<p>“The officers, in my humble opinion, best qualified to -see to the inspection and registration of the boats under the -Amending Bill are the sanitary officers.</p> -<p>“I do not propose, nor do I think that it would be wise -under present circumstances, to establish an army of Government -inspectors, with all their attendant charges upon the -Treasury. One or two Government officials supervising the -carrying out of the act and making occasional and unexpected -visits to various canal centres or otherwise, <a -name="page353"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 353</span>and also -advising and working with the local registration officers in the -carrying out of the Act and the regulations of the Local -Government Board, is what I would recommend, at any rate in the -first instance. Of course time and practice, as with other -Acts, would develop the weak and faulty places—if there be -any—of the measure.</p> -<p>“To meet the expenses of the registration and increased -salaries of local inspectors, I propose that the master or -captain of each boat shall pay to the local registration -authorities an annual sum of two shillings and sixpence at the -time when the annual certificate of registration is taken out; -this would bring the total amount of the registration to the same -as that now charged, viz., five shillings, for the first year, -and the only registration that has taken place. No plan -will be a success unless the certificate of registration be -renewed annually. When the Act of 1877 came into operation -it was expected by the boatowners and boatmen that there was to -be an annual payment and registration fee, and I did not hear of -any objection to it worth naming.</p> -<p>“After the first registration, and with the assistance -of the Government inspectors or supervisors, the carrying out of -the Act of 1877 and this Act will not be so troublesome and -expensive a matter as is supposed.</p> -<p>“I do not think that, after a year or two, when the Act -has got into working order, there will be any difficulty in the -registration authorities being able to obtain an annual -registration fee of five shillings, apart from the stamped -certificates, which would make a total of seven shillings and -sixpence for each boat.” [With the payment of this -amount, supposing that the canal children are receiving a free -education, as I suggest they should, the boatmen with children of -school age will be more than £1 per annum gainers.] -“Even this amount is but a trifle when it is considered -that boatmen and boatowners use the resources of the country, and -neither pay rates nor taxes for their boats floating upon our -rivers and canals. Or if it was advisable to raise the -local registration fee from that which I now propose, viz., half -a crown, to five shillings, it could be done without increasing -the registration fee to be paid by the boatmen to the -registration authority by dropping the half-crown stamped -certificate and the Government paying for the expenses of -Government supervision and inspection out of the Imperial -Treasury, which, I am told, they are unwilling to do.</p> -<p>“To illustrate my meaning more clearly with reference to -the registration fee I am now recommending, I will take the case -of Leeds as a sample. Up to 1879 the local inspector at -Leeds had registered two hundred canal boats at five shillings -each, producing the sum of £50 to meet the expenses of the -local inspection and <a name="page354"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 354</span>registration, and not one farthing -in either fines or fees has been received by the registration -authority at Leeds from the boatowners or boatmen since for the -inspection and registration. Whatever little time has been -devoted by the local authorities to the carrying out of the Act, -it has been done at the cost of the ratepayers at Leeds. -According to the plan I propose there will be, under the Amending -Bill, a yearly income from two hundred registered boats of -£25 to the Leeds registration authorities, and £25 -per annum to the Government for the two hundred stamped -certificates.</p> -<p>“I may add that the annual registration fee is fixed by -the Local Government Board in their regulations, and can, without -a fresh Act of Parliament, be altered at any time.</p> -<p>“Another source of income to the local authorities, -provided for under the Bill, and which would help to make the Act -of 1877 and this Act thoroughly successful, will be that derived -from the fines, which, under the Act of 1877, have hitherto been -handed over to the county funds instead of to those who have been -at the expense and trouble of enforcing the Act. The fines -and fees will, I think, cover the whole of the expenses without -taking any money from the local rates, or drawing upon the -Imperial Treasury to any extent worth naming.</p> -<p>“In course of time, as the Act worked out, it might be -desirable that the captain or master of the boat should have a -certificate of qualification or registration, to be renewed -annually. The better class of boatmen would be pleased with -this arrangement, and it would have a beneficial effect upon the -boatmen generally, as in the case of captains of vessels, -&c.</p> -<p>“Objection might be taken to the yearly registration of -canal boats. Some might say that registration every three -years would be quite sufficient. The yearly registration, -if carried out upon a plan set forth in my ‘Canal -Adventures by Moonlight,’ page 219, would be a very much -simpler affair than even in every three years.</p> -<p>“Canal boats often change hands both as regards -ownership and mastership. To register the boats every three -years it would be necessary, in order to keep a clue of the -boats, to have clerks and a set of books wherein to enter the -frequent changes. This plan in many cases would be a -troublesome matter.</p> -<p>“Boats registered every year would be easily kept in -view. The annual registration would bring both the -boatowner and captain to the front.</p> -<p>“Owing to the children living in the boats being under -the school authorities at which place the boats are registered as -belonging to, it might be desirable, for many reasons, that the -place of registration should be changed. I will take a case -to explain my meaning. <a name="page355"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 355</span>Suppose a boat is registered at -Liverpool for three years; the children living in the boat, -according to the Act of 1877, belong to Liverpool the length of -time for which the boat is registered. But suppose in the -course of a few months after the boat has been registered for -three years the captain or master comes to work his boat near -London. Naturally the captain would like to have his home -and family near London and his children going to school near -him. If the boat was registered at Liverpool for three -years he could not remove his family till the time of -registration was expired.</p> -<p>“The yearly registration would simplify the whole thing, -and to a great extent overcomes cases of the above kind. -With a change of the registration authority, a change of the -school authority to which the boat children belong takes place as -an outcome of the registration of the boats.</p> -<p style="text-align: right">“GEORGE SMITH, <i>of -Coalville</i>.</p> -<p>“<i>December</i> 31, 1882.”</p> - -<div class="gapspace"> </div> -<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">UNWIN -BROTHERS, THE GRESHAM PRESS, CHILWORTH AND LONDON.</span></p> - -<div class="gapline"> </div> -<h1><a name="page2_1"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -1</span>CATALOGUE<br /> -<span class="GutSmall">OF</span><br /> -NEW AND RECENT<br /> -BOOKS</h1> -<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall"><i>PUBLISHED -BY</i></span><br /> -MR. T. FISHER UNWIN.</p> -<p style="text-align: center"> -<a href="images/p2_tpb.jpg"> -<img alt= -"Decorative graphic" -title= -"Decorative graphic" - src="images/p2_tps.jpg" /> -</a></p> -<p style="text-align: center"><b>London</b>:<br /> -26, PATERNOSTER SQUARE.<br /> -1884.</p> -<p><a name="page2_2"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 2</span><span -class="smcap"><i>Mr. Unwin</i></span><i> takes pleasure in -sending herewith a Catalogue of Books published by him</i>.</p> -<p><i>As each New Edition of it is issued</i>, <i>it will be -sent</i> <b>post free</b> <i>to Booksellers</i>, -<i>Libraries</i>, <i>Book Societies</i>, <i>and Book Buyers -generally</i>—<i>a register being kept for that -purpose</i>.</p> -<p><i>Book Buyers are requested to order any Books they may -require from their local Bookseller</i>.</p> -<p><i>Should any difficulty arise</i>, <i>the Publisher will be -happy to forward any Book</i>, <span class="smcap">Carriage -Free</span>, <i>to any Country in the Postal Union</i>, <i>on -receipt of the price marked in this list</i>, <i>together with -full Postal Address</i>.</p> -<p><i>Customers wishing to present a book to a friend can send a -card containing their name and a dedication or inscription to be -enclosed</i>, <i>and it will be forwarded to the address -given</i>.</p> -<p><i>Remittances should be made by Money Order</i>, <i>draft on -London</i>, <i>registered letter</i>, <i>or half-penny -stamps</i>.</p> -<p><i>After perusal of this Catalogue</i>, <i>kindly pass it on -to some Book-buying friend</i>.</p> -<h2><a name="page2_3"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -3</span>CATALOGUE <span class="GutSmall">OF</span> <span -class="smcap">Mr</span> T. FISHER UNWIN’S -PUBLICATIONS.</h2> -<p><b>EUPHORION</b>: Studies of the Antique and the -Mediæval in the Renaissance. By <span -class="smcap">Vernon Lee</span>, Author of “Ottilie,” -&c. In 2 vols. Demy 8vo., cloth extra. -£1 1s.</p> -<blockquote><p>“The book is bold, extensive in scope, and -replete with well-defined and unhackneyed ideas, clear -impressions, and vigorous and persuasive modes of writing. . . -. Large questions have been scrutinized in a comprehensive -spirit, and are treated with both breadth and minuteness, -according to the scale of the work. This will be apparent -from a list of articles in the two volumes. After an -introduction comes ‘The Sacrifice,’ ‘The Italy -of the Elizabethan Dramatists,’ ‘The Outdoor -Poetry,’ and ‘Symmetria Prisca.’ . . . -‘The Portrait Art,’ ‘The School of -Boiardo.’ . . . Lastly comes the longest essay of -all, ‘Mediæval Love,’ filling nearly one -hundred pages. This is certainly a masterly performance, -going over a wide field, and showing at every stage abundant -discrimination.”—<i>Athenæum</i>.</p> -<p>“It is richly suggestive, stimulating, and -helpful. No student can afford to pass it by, and no -library of importance should be without it. By the side of -Hallam’s volumes and Mr. Addington Symonds’ History -it will be handy as a supplement and as a kind of appendix; and -as such we very cordially recommend it.”—<i>British -Quarterly Review</i>.</p> -<p>“It is a distinct advance on Vernon Lee’s previous -work. The impressions it records are as vividly individual -as ever, the knowledge which informs it is fuller and -riper. It deals with a period incomparably more interesting -than the ‘teacup times of hood and hoop,’ through -whose mazes her first work led us so pleasantly; and it has more -unity and continuity than ‘Belcaro.’ Its title -is most happily chosen, since the studies all converge upon that -mystic union of the mediæval Faust with the Helen of -antiquity from which the Renaissance sprang.”—<i>Pall -Mall Gazette</i>.</p> -<p>“Every page of ‘Euphorion’ give evidence of -immense reading in Renaissance and in mediæval literature, -and the author possesses the sure instinct so needful in a -student of old books, which leads her to the passages where -intellectual booty is to be found. . . . Deserves a most -cordial welcome as a fresh and original contribution to the -history of civilization and art; written in graceful and often -eloquent English.”—<i>Spectator</i>.</p> -<p>“Careful study, independent thought, and fine -writing—this is a book notable and noteworthy in every -respect.”—<i>Academy</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p><a name="page2_4"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -4</span><b>ARMINIUS VAMBÉRY</b>; His Life and -Adventures. Written by himself. With Portrait and 14 -Illustrations. Fourth and Popular Edition. Square -Imperial 16mo., cloth extra. 6s.</p> -<blockquote><p>“A most fascinating work, full of -interesting and curious experiences.”—<i>Contemporary -Review</i>.</p> -<p>“It is partly an autobiographic sketch of character, -partly an account of a singularly daring and successful adventure -in the exploration of a practically unknown country. In -both aspects it deserves to be spoken of as a work of great -interest and of considerable merit.”—<i>Saturday -Review</i>.</p> -<p>“This remarkable book is partly an autobiographical -sketch of character, partly a record of a singularly bold and -successful attempt to explore a country which at the time when -Professor Vambéry undertook his journey was practically -<i>terra incognita</i>. . . . Professor -Vambéry’s Autobiography is <i>omnium consensu</i> a -work of very great interest and -merit.”—<i>Life</i>.</p> -<p>“We can follow M. Vambéry’s footsteps in -Asia with pride and pleasure; we welcome every word he has to -tell us about the ethnography and the languages of the -East.”—<i>Academy</i>.</p> -<p>“Professor Vambéry, of Pest, has just published a -book in England that tells the story of his life; a book that -forms, under every aspect, most agreeable reading. It is -not only a deeply interesting account of his adventurous career, -but it is also written in a light and attractive manner, so that -the reader’s attention does not flag for a -moment.”—<i>Die Gegenwart</i>.</p> -<p>“The character and temperament of the writer come out -well in his quaint and vigorous style. . . . The -expressions, too, in English, of modes of thought and reflections -cast in a different mould from our own gives additional piquancy -to the composition, and, indeed, almost seems to bring out -unexpected capacities in the -language.”—<i>Athenæum</i>.</p> -<p>“There is something in his travels which reminds us of -the wanderings of Oliver Goldsmith. . . . The English -public will find their interest in him increased rather than -diminished by this graphic account of his life and -adventures.”—<i>British Quarterly Review</i>.</p> -<p>“Has all the fascination of a lively romance. It -is the confession of an uncommon man; an intensely clever, -extraordinarily energetic egotist, well-informed, persuaded that -he is in the right and impatient of -contradiction.”—<i>Daily Telegraph</i>.</p> -<p>“The work is written in a most captivating manner, and -illustrates the qualities that should be possessed by the -explorer.”—<i>Novoe Vremya</i>, <i>Moscow</i>.</p> -<p>“We are glad to see a popular edition of a book, which, -however it be regarded, must be pronounced unique. The -writer, the adventures, and the style are all -extraordinary—the last not the least of the three. It -is flowing and natural—a far better style than is written -by the majority of English travellers.”—<i>St. -James’s Gazette</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p style="text-align: -center"><sup>*</sup><sub>*</sub><sup>*</sup> <i>Over Eighty other -English and Foreign periodicals have reviewed this work</i>.</p> -<p><a name="page2_5"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 5</span><b>THE -AMAZON</b>: An Art Novel. By <span class="smcap">Carl -Vosmaer</span>. With Preface by Professor <span -class="smcap">George Ebers</span>, and Frontispiece drawn -specially by L. <span class="smcap">Alma Tadema</span>, -R.A. Crown 8vo., cloth. 6s.</p> -<blockquote><p>“It is a delineation of inner life by the -hand of a master. It belongs to the school of Corinne, but -is healthier and nobler, and in its thought and style fully equal -to Madame de Stäel’s famous work. We do not -wonder at the European recognition of its great -merits.”—<i>British Quarterly Review</i>.</p> -<p>“Throughout the book there is a fine air of taste, -reminding one a little of Longfellow’s -‘Hyperion.’”—<i>The World</i>.</p> -<p>“It is a work full of deep, suggestive thought. M. -Vosmaer, in writing it, has added another testimony to his -artistic greatness and depth.”—<i>The -Academy</i>.</p> -<p>“One meets with delicate and striking views about -antique and modern art, about old Rome and Italy. Moreover, -the plot is interesting. One cannot but feel interested in -the persons. Their characters are drawn with great -skill.”—<i>Revue Suisse</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p><b>GLADYS FANE</b>: The Story of Two Lives. By T. <span -class="smcap">Wemyss Reid</span>. Fourth and popular -edition. In 1 vol. Crown 8vo., cloth extra. -6s.</p> -<blockquote><p>“One of the most delightful novels it has -been our pleasure to read for many a long -day.”—<i>Pictorial World</i>.</p> -<p>“‘Gladys Fane’ is a good and clever book, -which few readers who begin it are likely to put down unfinished, -and which shows considerable powers of telling a -story.”—<i>Saturday Review</i>.</p> -<p>“The author of the delightful monograph on -‘Charlotte Bronte’ has given us in these volumes a -story as beautiful as life and as sad as death. . . . We -could not ‘wear in our heart’s core’ the man -who could read aloud with unfaltering voice and undimmed eyes the -last pages of this prose story, which is almost a poem, and -which</p> -<p style="text-align: center">‘Dallies with the innocence -of love<br /> -Like the old age.’”—<i>Standard</i>.</p> -<p>“Mr. T. Wemyss Reid, the talented editor of the <i>Leeds -Mercury</i>, has in ‘Gladys Fane’ developed wonderful -power as a writer of fiction. ‘Gladys Fane’ is -no ordinary tale; the conventionalities of the present-day novel -writer are not observed, but Mr. Reid gives us what should be the -aim of all who produce light literature, something -<i>novel</i>.”—<i>Guardian</i>.</p> -<p>“She is thoroughly original; her portrait is carefully -finished; and it may safely be said that if Mr. Reid has a few -more characters like this in reserve, his success as a novelist -is assured. . . . It is a sound piece of work, and, above -all, it is very enjoyable -reading.”—<i>Academy</i>.</p> -<p>“The beautiful and terse descriptions of scenery which -we find in this story themselves suggest a genuine poetic element -in Mr. Wemyss Reid. . . . We heartily welcome his success -in this new field.”—<i>Spectator</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p><a name="page2_6"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -6</span><b>SUMMER</b>: From the Journal of <span -class="smcap">Henry D. Thoreau</span>. Edited by H. G. O. -<span class="smcap">Blake</span>. With an Index. -Map. Crown 8vo., cloth, 382 pp. 7s. 6d.</p> -<p>This volume will contain passages selected from -Thoreau’s Journals, comprising his observations and -reflections during the summers of many years. Some of these -are descriptive, with that fine photographic accuracy which marks -Thoreau’s pictures of natural scenes. Other passages -contain those subtle reflections on society, religion, laws, -literature, which also characterize whatever Thoreau wrote, and -which pique the curiosity and stimulate the minds of his -readers. The book has a full index. Thoreau himself -seems to have contemplated a work of this kind, for in his -Journal he writes of “A book of the seasons, each page of -which should be written in its own season and out-of-doors, or in -its own locality, wherever it may be.”</p> -<p><b>HENRY IRVING</b>: in England and America, -1838–1884. By <span class="smcap">Frederic -Daly</span>. With a Vignette Portrait, specially etched -from a Private Photograph taken by S. A. <span -class="smcap">Walker</span>, by <span class="smcap">Ad. -Lalauze</span>; printed on hand-made paper by M. <span -class="smcap">Salmon</span>, of Paris. Second -thousand. Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 5s.</p> -<blockquote><p>“Mr. Frederic Daly has brought together an -interesting mass of facts which will be acceptable to the -admirers of the eminent actor. Mr. Daly writes with -judicious moderation, and without excessive adulation, thoroughly -appreciates the deservedly high position occupied by the subject -of his biography.”—<i>Athenæum</i>.</p> -<p>“Mr. Daly is a strong though by no means -undiscriminating admirer of Mr. Irving. This easy and -well-written narrative gives a good idea of the popular -actor’s career.”—<i>Contemporary -Review</i>.</p> -<p>“Conscientiously full, thoughtfully considered, and -gracefully written.”—<i>Daily Telegraph</i>.</p> -<p>“It refers succinctly to Mr. Irving’s literary -efforts, essays, and addresses, and concludes with a survey of -Mr. Irving’s personal characteristics. . . . An -interesting and useful volume. . . . A portrait of Mr. -Irving, etched by M. Lalauze, is admirable in -execution.”—<i>Saturday Review</i>.</p> -<p>“Written with discriminating taste.”—<i>The -World</i>.</p> -<p>“Mr. Daly sets forth his materials with a due sense of -proportion, and writes in a pleasing vein.”—<i>Daily -News</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p><b>SETTLING DAY</b>: A Sketch from Life. By <span -class="smcap">Sophie Argent</span>. Crown 8vo., -cloth. 3s. 6d.</p> -<blockquote><p>“A charming story of real life, and one that -is as true to human nature as it is true to -facts.”—<i>Congregationalist</i>.</p> -<p>“A pleasant and wholesome little novelette. . . . -It is agreeably written.”—<i>Society</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p><a name="page2_7"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 7</span><b>THE -FUTURE WORK OF FREE TRADE IN ENGLISH LEGISLATION</b>. I. -Free Trade in Land. II. Financial Reform. III. -Monopolies. (<i>The Cobden Club Prize Essay for</i> -1883.) By C. E. <span class="smcap">Troup</span>, B.A., -Balliol College, Oxford. Crown 8vo., cloth. 3s. -6d.</p> -<blockquote><p>“Mr. Troup has written a valuable -contribution to the history of the dispute between Protection and -Free Trade. Though it is possible to differ from his -conclusions, no one can deny the ability with which he has -marshalled his facts.”—<i>Oxford and Cambridge -Undergraduates’ Journal</i>.</p> -<p>“Lucid in style, and based on a thorough comprehension -of economic science, the book deserves the attention of all who -are interested in the questions of which it -treats—questions which are likely to assume prominence in -the not-distant future.”—<i>Scotsman</i>.</p> -<p>“Leaves no doubt in the reader’s mind that Mr. -Troup fully earned his prize by treating the whole subject in a -spirit of discrimination as well as with undoubted -ability.”—<i>Leeds Mercury</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p><b>ORIENTAL CARPETS</b>: How they are Made and Conveyed to -Europe. With a Narrative of a Journey to the East in Search -of Them. By <span class="smcap">Herbert Coxon</span>. -Illustrated with Plates and Map. Demy 8vo., cloth -extra. 3s. 6d.</p> -<blockquote><p>“We have many new and interesting facts, put -in an extremely readable form, concerning carpets and the makers -and dealers in them.”—<i>Literary World</i>.</p> -<p>“Mr. Herbert Coxon has put together on this subject a -readable and interesting volume.”—<i>Derby -Mercury</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p><b>STOPS</b>; or, How to Punctuate. With Instructions -for Correcting Proofs, &c. By <span class="smcap">Paul -Allardyce</span>. Third edition. Demy 16mo., -parchment antique or cloth. 1s.</p> -<blockquote><p>“Is a clear and useful little book, which is -written with more literary skill than is usually shown in such -manuals. Mr. Allardyce will no doubt do more important -work.”—<i>Athenæum</i>.</p> -<p>“At the end Mr. Allardyce gives the useful example of -how to correct a proof—an art which some of those who live -by the pen never master thoroughly.”—<i>Saturday -Review</i>.</p> -<p>“We have hardly any words but those of praise to give to -his very thoughtful, very dainty little -book.”—<i>Journal of Education</i>.</p> -<p>“We can conceive no more desirable present to a literary -aspirant.”—<i>Academy</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<h3><a name="page2_8"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -8</span>CENTENARY SERIES.</h3> -<p>1. <b>JOHN WICLIF</b>, Patriot and Reformer: his Life -and Writings. By <span class="smcap">Rudolf -Buddensieg</span>, Lic. Theol., Leipsic. Parchment covers, -Antique printing. 2s.</p> -<blockquote><p>“Mr. Fisher Unwin has printed in delicious -old text, with a frontispiece and vellum binding worthy of an old -Elzevir, Mr. Rudolf Buddensieg’s brief extracts from -Wiclif’s writings. . . . These are full of interest, -and the little volume will be useful for -reference.”—<i>Graphic</i>.</p> -<p>“The matter is equal to the manner, consisting of a -summary of the career of the great Reformer, drawn up by an -acknowledged master of the subject, and of a judicious selection -of characteristic passages from Wiclif’s -works.”—<i>St. James’s Gazette</i>.</p> -<p>“No better summary of the conclusions could perhaps be -given than that which Dr. Buddensieg has -epitomized.”—<i>British Quarterly Review</i>.</p> -<p>“A charming book got up in the ‘old-style,’ -bound in parchment and well printed on thick paper, containing a -scholarly and appreciative account of Wiclif’s -life.”—<i>Nonconformist</i>.</p> -<p>“Beautifully printed in the old-fashioned manner, and -bound in imitation of vellum, this book is a thing of -beauty. The specimens of Wiclif’s writings are deeply -interesting.”—<i>Sword and Trowel</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p>2. <b>THE TABLE TALK OF DR. MARTIN LUTHER</b>. -Fcap. 12mo., Antique Paper, Parchment boards. 2s.</p> -<p>This is an entirely new selection and translation by Professor -Gibb, from the ever-popular <i>Tischreden oder Colloquia</i> of -“The Monk that shook the world,” and forms an -appropriate <i>souvenir</i> of the 4th Centenary now being held -throughout Christendom.</p> -<blockquote><p>“His words are -half-battles.”—<i>Richter</i>.</p> -<p>“‘The Table-talk.’ The most -interesting now of all the books proceeding from -him.”—<i>Carlyle</i>.</p> -<p>“Deserves the very highest praise. Great -discrimination has been shown in the choice of extracts, and -considerable skill in the grouping of them under appropriate -heads.”—<i>Congregationalist</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p>3. <b>DOCTOR JOHNSON</b>: His Life, Works and Table -Talk. By Dr. <span class="smcap">Macaulay</span>, Editor of -<i>The Leisure Hour</i>. 2s.</p> -<p>This little work will form an interesting <i>souvenir</i> of -the great lexicographer, as described in its title. The -first part will be a newly-written life by Dr. Macaulay, and the -remaining part of the book will be short extracts illustrative of -his writings and conversation.</p> -<p><a name="page2_9"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 9</span><b>OUR -MODERN PHILOSOPHERS</b>: Darwin, Bain, and Spencer; or, The -Descent of Man, Mind, and Body. A Rhyme, with Reasons, -Essays, Notes, and Quotations. By “<span -class="smcap">Psychosis</span>.” Crown 8vo, cloth -extra, 236 pp. 4s. 6d.</p> -<blockquote><p>“He is a powerful writer. . . . Many -of his stanzas are happy illustrations of wit and -wisdom.”—<i>Literary World</i>.</p> -<p>“This is a clever, amusing, and instructive -book.”—<i>The Christian</i>.</p> -<p>“This work is highly creditable to the learning and -industry of its author.”—<i>Glasgow Herald</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p><b>THE LAW AND THE PROPHETS</b>: Being the Hulsean Lectures -for 1882. By F. <span class="smcap">Watson</span>, M.A., -Rector of Starston, and some time Fellow of St. John’s -College, Cambridge. Demy 8vo, cloth. 6s.</p> -<blockquote><p>“It is worthy of careful and critical -review. . . . The book will be read with great interest by -those who are interested in questions that it -treats.”—<i>British Quarterly Review</i>.</p> -<p>“Mr. Watson’s lectures must be awarded unqualified -praise. The lectures themselves are admirable, and nothing -less can be said of the subsidiary additions, which are very -valuable as confirmatory of the main arguments and -theses.”—<i>Clergyman’s Magazine</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p><b>THE CHRIST OF HISTORY</b>. An Argument grounded on -the Facts of His Life on Earth. By <span class="smcap">John -Young</span>, LL.D., Author of “The Life and Light of -Men,” “The Creator and the Creation,” -&c. Seventh and Popular Edition. Crown 8vo., -cloth. 3s. 6d.</p> -<p><b>OFF DUTY</b>: Stories of a Parson on Leave. By <span -class="smcap">Charles Wright</span>. Crown 8vo., -cloth. 2s. 6d.</p> -<blockquote><p>“So genial in its conception, and so modest -in its pretentions.”—<i>Christian Million</i>.</p> -<p>“It is a pleasant miscellany of prose and verse, with -sunny gleams of humour.”—<i>Christian Leader</i>.</p> -<p>“A playful little volume, full of cheery chat, often -running away from the flats of prose into airy verse—with -racy anecdote, wise suggestion, and sound good sense underlying -even its fun.”—<i>Greenock Daily Telegraph</i>.</p> -<p>“The idea of the book is well conceived and carried out. -. . . The book is just the one for the sea-side or holiday -resort, and only needs to be read to be thoroughly -enjoyed.”—<i>Banbury Guardian</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p><a name="page2_10"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -10</span><b>LIGHT IN LANDS OF DARKNESS</b>: A Record of Mission -Work in</p> -<table> -<tr> -<td><p>GREENLAND,</p> -</td> -<td><p>LABRADOR,</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p>EGYPT,</p> -</td> -<td><p>SOUTH AMERICA,</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p>SYRIA,</p> -</td> -<td><p>ARMENIA,</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p>PERSIA,</p> -</td> -<td><p><span class="smcap">Etc</span>., <span -class="smcap">etc</span>.</p> -</td> -</tr> -</table> -<p>By <span class="smcap">Robert Young</span>, Author of -“Modern Missions.” With an Introduction by the -<span class="smcap">Rt. Hon. the Earl of Shaftesbury</span>, -K.G. Illustrated. Crown 8vo., cloth extra. -Second edition. 6s.</p> -<p>This volume may be considered as a second series of Modern -Missions (see page 11). It has been issued in response to -the general demand for a completion of the record of <i>all</i> -Protestant Missions throughout the world.</p> -<p><b>HALF-HOURS WITH FAMOUS AMBASSADORS</b>. By G. <span -class="smcap">Barnett Smith</span>, Author of “The Life of -Gladstone,” &c. Crown 8vo., cloth extra, with -Steel Portrait. 7s. 6d.</p> -<p><sup>*</sup><sub>*</sub><sup>*</sup> Including Talleyrand, Sir -R. M. Keith, Gondomar, The Chevalier D’Eon, Metternich, -Harley, Alberoni, and Lord Malmesbury.</p> -<blockquote><p>“More entertaining than many a sensational -novel.”—<i>Echo</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p style="text-align: center"><i>The Gift Book of the -Season</i>.</p> -<p><b>THE ADVENTURES OF ROBINSON CRUSOE</b>. By <span -class="smcap">Daniel Defoe</span>. Newly Edited after the -Original Editions. With Twenty Illustrations, by <span -class="smcap">Kauffman</span>, printed in colours. Fcap. -4to., cloth extra. 7s. 6d.</p> -<blockquote><p>“This is irrefutably the edition of -‘Robinson Crusoe’ of the season. It is -charmingly got up and illustrated. The type and printing -are excellent.”—<i>Standard</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>MOLINOS</b>.—Golden Thoughts from “The -Spiritual Guide” of <span class="smcap">Miguel de -Molinos</span>, the Quietist. With a Preface by J. <span -class="smcap">Henry Short-house</span>, Author of “John -Inglesant.” 136 pp., large Fcap. 8vo., cloth extra or -parchment. 2s. 6s.</p> -<p>Readers of “John Inglesant” will be glad to have -the opportunity of renewing their acquaintance with this Spanish -Mystic of the Seventeenth Century, through the medium of a -careful selection and translation of the best things in his -“Guide.”</p> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><a name="page2_11"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -11</span><b>PILGRIM SORROW</b>. By <span -class="smcap">Carmen Sylva</span> (The Queen of Roumania). -Translated by <span class="smcap">Helen Zimmern</span>, Author of -“The Epic of Kings.” With Portrait-etching by -<span class="smcap">Lalauze</span>. Square Crown 8vo., -cloth extra. 5s.</p> -<blockquote><p>“For this nature of literature the Queen -appears to have a special gift. . . . And never has she -been happier than in her <i>Leidens Erdengang</i>, which lies -before us to-day. The fundamental idea of this cycle of -stories is wholly symbolical. . . . The next story . . . is -a piece of exquisite writing . . . It is said that for the -very charming motherly figure of Patience, the Queen’s own -mother, the wise and good Princess of Wied, has furnished the -prototype. . . . The last story of the cycles, called <i>A -Life</i>, changes into an elegiac tone, and depicts an existence -spent in the search of Truth. Though slightly veiled, it is -impossible to ignore its autobiographic character. We have -here the soul of the Queen laid bare before -us.”—<i>Literary World</i> (Review of the German -edition).</p> -<p>“If to write poetry upon a throne be rare of itself, it -is certainly still rarer to find Queens giving artistic form to -those moments of existence that approach the mysteries of human -life. Already, in her ‘Sappho,’ the German -poetess, who now occupies a throne, has treated of the -relationship of man to the eternal, but the antique garb somewhat -veiled her purpose, while here (in ‘Pilgrim Sorrow’) -she moves amid modern as well as universal life, and is thus able -to reveal the whole depth of her feeling and lament. For -what has inspired her poetic phantasy is the ever-unanswered -question: Wherefore and whence is sorrow in the world? The -treatment is throughout symbolical. . . . It deserves to be -counted among the modern monuments of our -literature.”—Review of the first German edition in -the <i>Augsburger Allgemeine Zeitung</i>, <i>Nov.</i> 2, -1882.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>OTTILIE</b>: an Eighteenth Century Idyl. By <span -class="smcap">Vernon Lee</span>, Author of “Belcaro,” -“Prince of the Hundred Soups,” &c. Square -8vo, cloth extra. 3s. 6d.</p> -<blockquote><p>“A graceful little sketch. . . . Drawn -with full insight into the period -described.”—<i>Spectator</i>.</p> -<p>“Pleasantly and carefully written. . . . The -author lets the reader have a glimpse of Germany in the -‘Sturm und Drang’ -period.”—<i>Athenæum</i>.</p> -<p>“Ottilie von Craussen is a charming -character.”—<i>Leeds Mercury</i>.</p> -<p>“A graceful little picture. . . . Charming all -through.”—<i>Academy</i>.</p> -<p>“Of exquisite literary workmanship; it is full of -interest.”—<i>Galignani’s Messenger</i>.</p> -<p>“It is a prose-poem which cannot fail to exercise on -most readers a refining and purifying -influence.”—<i>Scotsman</i>.</p> -<p>“To all who relish a simple, natural, and most pathetic -story, admirably told, we recommend this eighteenth century -idyl.”—<i>St. James’ Gazette</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><a name="page2_12"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -12</span><b>THE EPIC OF KINGS</b>. Stories retold from the -Persian Poet Firdusi. By <span class="smcap">Helen -Zimmern</span>, Author of “Stories in Precious -Stones,” “Life of Lessing,” &c. With -Etchings by L. <span class="smcap">Alma Tadema</span>, R.A, and -Prefatory Poem by E. W. <span class="smcap">Gosse</span>. -Popular Edition, Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 7s.</p> -<blockquote><p>“Charming from beginning to end. . . . -Miss Zimmern deserves all credit for her courage in attempting -the task, and for her marvellous success in carrying it out. . . -. Miss Zimmern has indeed mastered a pure simple English -which fits the antiquity of her subject, and the stories are told -in a manner which must provoke the envy and admiration of all who -have attempted this singularly difficult style of -composition.”—<i>Saturday Review</i>.</p> -<p>“The carefulness and intelligence she displays in her -selections from the ‘Shāh Nāmeh,’ no less -than in her graceful renderings of them, are deserving of high -praise. . . . Miss Zimmern’s translations in this -volume can be read with great pleasure. . . . A striking -feature of the volume is Mr. Gosse’s narrative poem, -‘Firdusi in Exile,’ in which is told, in charming -verse, the picturesque story of the poet’s exile and -death.”—<i>Athenæum</i>.</p> -<p>“Miss Zimmern has succeeded to admiration. . . . -The result appears in a language at once dignified and simple, -free from affectation, and at the same time sufficiently -antiquated to carry one into the atmosphere of the stories -themselves. . . . The choice of legends is a wise -one.”—<i>S. Lane-Poole</i>, <i>in The -Academy</i>.</p> -<p>“Miss Zimmern has been well advised in attempting to -paraphrase this work. In one volume she presents her -readers with the essence and the gist of Firdusi’s Epic, -carrying the story down as far as the death of Rustem—that -is, as far as the end of the purely poetical portion of the -poet’s work. She has selected well, and written the -stories in a vivid style. Firdusi’s stories may have -a chance of becoming really popular in -England.”—<i>The Times</i>.</p> -<p>“Of Miss Zimmern’s fitness for writing stories of -this kind there need be no question. She has in other -fields of literature shown how well she could adapt the -productions of foreign writers to British -tastes.”—<i>Scotsman</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p><i>Also an Édition de luxe</i>, on Dutch Hand-made -Paper, Super Roy. Quarto, limited to 200 copies. -Artist’s Proofs on Japanese Paper, signed and numbered, -bound in Parchment extra. £3 3s.</p> -<p>Later Impressions, limited to 300 copies, on English Super -Roy. 4to., the Etchings on India Paper, unsigned, bound in Cloth -extra. £2 2s.</p> -<p style="text-align: center"><sup>*</sup><sub>*</sub><sup>* -</sup>A limited number of these editions may still be had.</p> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page2_13"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 13</span><span class="smcap">George -Herbert’s Poems</span>.</p> -<p><b>THE TEMPLE</b>: Sacred Poems and Private -Ejaculations. By Mr. <span class="smcap">George -Herbert</span>. Small Crown. <i>New Edition</i>, with -Introductory Essay by J. <span class="smcap">Henry -Shorthouse</span>, Author of “<span class="smcap">John -Inglesant</span>.”</p> -<p><i>This is a fac-simile reprint by typography of the Original -Edition of</i> 1633. <i>No pains have been spared to make -this an exact replica as regards paper</i>, <i>size</i>, -<i>print</i>, <i>and binding</i>.</p> -<p class="gutindent">4th Edition, Sheep, imitation of Original -Binding. 5s.</p> -<p class="gutindent">Paper boards, Old Style, uncut edges. -5s.</p> -<p class="gutindent">Imitation Morocco. 6s.</p> -<blockquote><p>“The style of Mr. Shorthouse’s dainty -little preface is, we should say, nearly perfect in its kind. . -. From the delicate bit of word-painting with which it -opens to the closing paragraph there is one clear thought running -through the whole.”—<i>Spectator</i>.</p> -<p>“This charming reprint has a fresh value added to it by -the Introductory Essay of the Author of ‘John -Inglesant.’”—<i>Academy</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>TALES OF MODERN OXFORD</b>. By the Author of -“Lays of Modern Oxford.” Crown 8vo., cloth -extra. 6s.</p> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>POEMS AND HYMNS</b>. By the Rev. G. T. <span -class="smcap">Coster</span>, of Whitby. Fcap. 8vo., cloth -extra, gilt edges. 5s.</p> -<blockquote><p>“The descriptive poems are very fine, -especially ‘The Village’ ‘Early Days,’ -and ‘The Children.’ These suggest Crabbe in -truthfulness of portrayal and purity of expression. The -hymns are also possessed of more than average -merit.”—<i>Leeds Mercury</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><a name="page2_14"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -14</span><b>MEDITATIONS & DISQUISITIONS ON THE FIRST -PSALM</b>: On the Penitential and the Consolatory Psalms. -By Sir <span class="smcap">Richard Baker</span>, Knight, Author -of “The Chronicle of England.” &c. -&c. A verbatim reprint in modern spelling. With -Introduction by Rev. A. B. <span class="smcap">Grosart</span>, -LL.D., F.S.A. Portrait and Autograph. Crown 8vo., -cloth. 6s. 6d.</p> -<blockquote><p>“We have long known the comments of Sir -Richard Baker, and we have often wondered how they escaped -reprinting. . . . He turns his text over and over, and sets -it in new lights, and makes it sparkle and flash in the sunlight -after a manner little known among the blind critics of the -midnight school. Deep experience, remarkable shrewdness, -and great spirituality are combined in Sir Richard. It is -hard to quote from him, for he is always good alike, and yet he -has more memorable sentences than almost any other -writer.”—<i>The Sword and Trowel</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>THOMAS CARLYLE</b>, The Man and His Books. -Illustrated by Personal Reminiscences, Table Talk, and Anecdotes -of Himself and his Friends. By <span class="smcap">Wm. -Howie Wylie</span>. Third edition, revised and -corrected. Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 7s. 6d.</p> -<p>Reviewing the latest volumes on Carlyle, the <i>Spectator</i> -of November 12, 1881, says:—</p> -<blockquote><p>“The best specimen is that by Mr. Howie -Wylie, previously reviewed in these columns, a work which we know -to have been read with pleasure by at least one warm and intimate -friend of Carlyle, and to which, after perusing others of its -kin, we return with a somewhat heightened estimate, from the -point of view of the critic.”</p> -<p>“One of the most masterly biographies—a bit of -work, indeed, which it would be hard to surpass for sympathy, -delicacy, liberality of view, and wealth of friendly -insight.”—<i>Contemporary Review</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>SUNSHINE AND SHADOWS</b>: Sketches of Thought, Philosophic -and Religious. By <span class="smcap">William Benton -Clulow</span>, author of “Essays of a Recluse.” -New and enlarged edition, with Portrait and Appendix. Crown -8vo., cloth extra. 5s.</p> -<blockquote><p>“Should be a great favourite with the small -class of readers who love condensed and concentrated expression, -and who value a book in so far as it sets them thinking for -themselves. Such readers will regard ‘Sunshine and -Shadows’ as great spoil, as a companion in rambles, a book -to be pencilled in the margin, to be taken down at odd moments as -a refreshment. Readers who love Landor and Hare and Pascal -will welcome Mr. Clulow’s work and prize it -highly.”—<i>Bradford Observer</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><a name="page2_15"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -15</span><b>FOOTPRINTS</b>: Nature seen on its Human Side. -By <span class="smcap">Sarah Tytler</span>, Author of -“Papers for Thoughtful Girls,”&c. With 125 -Illustrations. 3rd and cheaper edition. Crown 8vo., -cloth extra, coloured edges. 3s. 6d.</p> -<blockquote><p>“A book of real -worth.”—<i>Spectator</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>MODERN MISSIONS</b>: Their Trials and Triumphs. By -<span class="smcap">Robert Young</span>, Assistant Secretary to -the Missions of the Free Church of Scotland. With many -Illustrations, and a Mission Map. Third edition. -Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 5s.</p> -<blockquote><p>“Tells the great story of the trials and -triumphs of <i>Modern Missions</i>. It was a happy idea to -endeavour to include that story, as briefly told as might be, in -one small volume, so that Christian people of every Church might -read within its four hundred pages the tale of what has been done -in every land and by all sorts of Christians for the -evangelisation of mankind. This book should certainly be -placed upon the shelves of parish, congregational, and -Sunday-school libraries. It is brief and -comprehensive.”—<i>Christian World</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>GERMAN LIFE AND LITERATURE</b>. In a Series of -Biographical Studies. By A. H. Japp, LL.D. Demy 8vo., -cloth. 12s.</p> -<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">OPINIONS OF -THE PRESS</span>.</p> -<blockquote><p>“This volume, as a whole, is admirable, each -chapter being characterised by thoroughness, impartiality, fine -critical discernment, an always manly literary ability, and, -above all, a moral healthiness of tone. In fact, we are not -acquainted with any English work, or, for that matter, with any -Continental or American work, which we could place with so much -confidence in the hands of a young student of modern German -literature as the volume under review, and as special proof of -our assertion we would select the essay on Goethe. . . . -For this work we must express sincere gratitude to the -author.”—<i>Spectator</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>THE HUMAN VOICE AND THE CONNECTED PARTS</b>: A Popular -Guide for Speakers and Singers. By Dr. J. <span -class="smcap">Farrar</span>. With Thirty-nine -Illustrations. Crown 8vo. cloth extra. 3s. 6d.</p> -<blockquote><p>“A very careful and minute exposition of -vocal phenomena. Its utility is enhanced by a large number -of diagrams.”—<i>The Scotsman</i>.</p> -<p>“A work that is sure to be found of real practical -value.”—<i>British Quarterly Review</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><a name="page2_16"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -16</span><b>THE ROMAN STUDENTS</b>; or, On Wings of the -Morning. A Tale of the Renaissance. By the Author of -“The Spanish Brothers,” &c. With -Illustrations by G. P. <span class="smcap">Jacomb -Hood</span>. Cheaper edition. Imperial 8vo., cloth -extra. 4s. 6d.</p> -<blockquote><p>“A thoroughly good historical tale. -From its opening scenes in sunny Venice to its close in a German -village, the interest is absorbing, while the reader feels -invigorated by the healthy type of Christianity displayed, as -well as enriched by much knowledge concerning the ways of men who -have long since passed away.”—<i>Christian</i>.</p> -<p>“One of the best stories of the -year.”—<i>British Quarterly Review</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>AMERICAN DISHES</b>, and How to Cook Them. From the -Recipe-book of an American Lady. Crown 8vo., cloth -extra. 2s. 6d.</p> -<blockquote><p>“A smart little tome . . . Fisheries -and fish being at present in the ascendant, I should recommend -all culinary students to turn to the section of the lady’s -book devoted to fish recipes and general instructions how to -choose and prepare the denizens of the deep for the table . . -. She is great also in fish-balls . . . Consult her -pages likewise for baked beans, hominy, potato puffs, rye meal, -squash biscuits, and minced cabbage. In soups she is -strong.”—G. A. S., in <i>Illustrated London -News</i>.</p> -<p>“The author has done a really good service to the -public. All who want to know what American cookery is, will -possess themselves of this book, and they will be sure to meet -with their reward.”—<i>Scotsman</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>DICK’S HOLIDAYS</b>, and What He Did with Them. -A Picture Story Book of Country Life. By <span -class="smcap">James Weston</span>. Profusely -Illustrated. Imperial 4to. Cheaper edition, cloth -extra. 3s. 6d.</p> -<blockquote><p>“This is precisely the book that sensible -parents must often have been wanting. . . . This delightful -book.”—<i>Academy</i>.</p> -<p>“A delightful -collection.”—<i>Graphic</i>.</p> -<p>“Mr. Weston has been successful in introducing a new -type picture-book of the liveliest and most instructive -kind.”—<i>Manchester Guardian</i>.</p> -<p>“A new departure . . . all the more acceptable on -account of its originality.”—<i>Edinburgh Daily -Review</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><a name="page2_17"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -17</span><b>I’VE BEEN A-GIPSYING</b>: or Rambles among our -Gipsies and their Children in their Tents and Vans. By -<span class="smcap">George Smith</span>, of Coalville, Author of -“Gipsy Life,” “Canal Adventures by -Moonlight,” &c. <i>With an Appendix showing the -Author’s plans for the Compulsory Registration of Gipsy -Vans</i>, <i>and the Education of Gipsy Children</i>. New -and Revised and Popular Edition. 12 Illustrations. -3s. 6d.</p> -<p><i>Her Majesty the Queen</i> has been graciously pleased to -accept, and to thank Mr. Smith for, a copy of the above work.</p> -<blockquote><p><i>The Rt. Hon. Sir Stafford Northcote</i>, -<i>M.P.</i>, thus writes to the author:—“Accept my -best thanks for your book, which cannot fail to be most -interesting, both on account of the subject and of the -author. Your good works will indeed live after -you.”</p> -<p>“Mr. Smith’s sketches of his visits to the gipsies -are graphic and varied, and will, we trust, serve to excite a -wider interest in the perplexing question of their amelioration, -to which the author has already given yeoman’s -service.”—<i>Contemporary Review</i>, September, -1883.</p> -<p>“The author of ‘Gipsy Life’ has so far made -the characteristics and social condition of this race the study -of his life, that nothing from his pen is likely to be otherwise -than instructive. ‘I’ve been a-Gipsying’ -will fully answer the expectations of its -readers.”—<i>The Record</i>.</p> -<p>“No imaginary picture is drawn of distant sufferers on a -dark continent, for the evil, vice, wretchedness, and misery may -be seen any day at our very doors.”—<i>Daily -Chronicle</i>.</p> -<p>“A rugged book by a rugged man in real earnest about his -life work . . . These graphic sketches cannot fail to do -good service by calling public attention to a crying evil, and so -helping to hasten the day when an awakened Parliament shall wipe -away this reproach from the -nation.”—<i>Christian</i>.</p> -<p>“Those who deliberately and carefully go over Mr. -Smith’s book will be able to see this is not exactly the -sort of philanthropical work which is habitually dismissed with a -careless wave of the hand.”—<i>Modern Review</i>.</p> -<p>“The earnestness, the enthusiasm, the high moral purpose -of the man everywhere shine through, dominate the book, and -enforce respect alike for the author and his -design.”—<i>Christian World</i>.</p> -<p>“More interesting than any novel, and holds the reader -spellbound . . . The revelations contained in this book are -very startling and painful.”—<i>Sheffield -Independent</i>.</p> -<p>“Will do considerable good, and it throws a flood of -light on a subject of which most men know scarcely -anything.”—<i>Christian Leader</i>.</p> -<p>“Merits a wide circulation, both on its literary merits, -and the importance of its purpose.”—<i>Liverpool -Daily Post</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><a name="page2_18"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 18</span>THE -“<b>LIVES WORTH LIVING</b>” SERIES OF POPULAR -BIOGRAPHIES. Illustrated Crown 8vo., cloth extra. Per -vol. 3s. 6d.</p> -<table> -<tr> -<td><p>1. Leaders of Men.</p> -</td> -<td><p>3. Master Missionaries.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p>2. Wise Words and Loving Deeds.</p> -</td> -<td><p>4. Labour and Victory.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">5. Heroic -Adventure.</p> -</td> -</tr> -</table> -<p>1. <b>LEADERS OF MEN</b>: A Book of Biographies -specially written for Young Men. By H. A. <span -class="smcap">Page</span>, author of “Golden -Lives.” Crown 8vo., cloth extra, with -Portraits. Fourth edition. 3s. 6d.</p> -<table> -<tr> -<td><p>The Prince Consort.</p> -<p>Commodore Goodenough.</p> -<p>Robert Dick.</p> -<p>George Moore.</p> -</td> -<td><p>Samuel Greg.</p> -<p>Andrew Reed.</p> -<p>John Duncan.</p> -<p>Dr. John Wilson.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">Lord Lawrence.</p> -</td> -</tr> -</table> -<blockquote><p>“Mr. Page thoroughly brings out the -disinterestedness and devotion to high aims which characterise -the men of whom he writes. He has done his work with care -and good taste.”—<i>Spectator</i>.</p> -<p>“No one knows better than Mr. Page how to put within -moderate compass the outstanding features of a life that has -blessed the world so as to present a striking and impressive -picture. This is just the volume to enlarge the views and -to ennoble the aims of young men, and to such we specially -commend it.”—<i>Literary World</i>.</p> -<p>“Here is a book which should be in the hands of every -boy in the kingdom in whose mind it is desirable to implant a -true ideal of life, and a just notion of the proper objects of -ambition; and we may congratulate Mr. Page upon having carried -out his task with all possible care and skill. -‘Leaders of Men’ is every way an admirable -volume.”—<i>Court Circular</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p>2. <b>WISE WORDS & LOVING DEEDS</b>: A Book of -Biographies for Girls. By E. <span class="smcap">Conder -Gray</span>. Crown 8vo., cloth extra, with -Portraits. Fifth edition. 3s. 6d.</p> -<table> -<tr> -<td><p>Mary Somerville.</p> -<p>Lady Duff Gordon.</p> -<p>Sarah Martin.</p> -<p>Ann Taylor.</p> -<p>Charlotte Elliott</p> -</td> -<td><p>Madame Feller.</p> -<p>Baroness Bunsen.</p> -<p>Amelia Sieveking.</p> -<p>Mary Carpenter.</p> -<p>Catherine Tait.</p> -</td> -</tr> -</table> -<blockquote><p>“A series of brightly-written sketches of -lives of remarkable women. The subjects are well chosen and -well treated.”—<i>Saturday Review</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><a name="page2_19"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -19</span>3. <b>MASTER MISSIONARIES</b>: Studies in Heroic -Pioneer Work. By <span class="smcap">Alexander H. -Japp</span>, LL.D., F.R.S.E. With Portraits and -Illustrations. Crown 8vo. Third edition. 3s. -6d.</p> -<blockquote><p>“An extremely interesting book. The -reader need not be afraid of falling into beaten tracks -here.”—<i>The Guardian</i>.</p> -<p>“A collection of sketches from the practised pen of Dr. -Japp, of men who have rendered good service to their race. -All are graphic and very -interesting.”—<i>Nonconformist</i>.</p> -<p>“It brings before the reader a vivid conception of all -the grandest chapters in pioneer effort throughout the -world. There are many who must have felt the want of just -such a handy book as this, and these will be grateful to Dr. -Japp.”—<i>Glasgow Mail</i>.</p> -<p>“A really excellent and readable -book.”—<i>Literary Churchman</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p>4. <b>LABOUR AND VICTORY</b>. By A. H. <span -class="smcap">Japp</span>, LL.D. Memoirs of Those who -Deserved Success and Won it. Third edition, Crown 8vo., -cloth extra. 3s. 6d.</p> -<table> -<tr> -<td><p>Sir James Outram.</p> -<p>Thomas Edward.</p> -<p>Sir James Simpson.</p> -<p>William Ellis.</p> -</td> -<td><p>Bishop Selwyn.</p> -<p>Sir Titus Salt.</p> -<p>Thos. Davidson.</p> -<p>Friedrich Augusti.</p> -</td> -</tr> -</table> -<blockquote><p>“There must assuredly be a large number of -readers to whom these stories of the lives of such men will prove -very acceptable.”—<i>Spectator</i>.</p> -<p>“We should be glad to see this volume in the hands of -thousands of boys and young men.”—<i>Leeds -Mercury</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p>5. <b>HEROIC ADVENTURE</b>: Chapters in Recent -Exploration and Discovery. Illustrated. Third -edition. Crown 8vo, cloth extra. 3s. 6d.</p> -<p><sup>*</sup><sub>*</sub><sup>*</sup> <i>Containing in a -popular form an account of the travels and adventures of great -explorers of modern times</i>, <i>including Schweinfurth</i>, -<i>Prejevalsky</i>, <i>Commander Markham</i>, <i>Vambery</i>, -<i>Serpa Pinto</i>, <i>and Nordenskiöld</i>.</p> -<blockquote><p>“Gives freshness to the old inexhaustible -story of enterprise and discovery by selecting some of the very -latest of heroes in this field.”—<i>Daily -News</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<h3><a name="page2_20"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 20</span>New -and Cheaper Editions.</h3> -<p><b>GUDRUN, BEOWULF, and ROLAND</b>. With other -Mediæval Tales. By <span class="smcap">John -Gibb</span>. With 20 Illustrations. Second and -cheaper edition. Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 3s. 6d.</p> -<blockquote><p>“This volume will be certain to charm -youthful readers; and a safer or more acceptable gift-book it -would be difficult to find. . . . Without some such work -these precious prototypes of Anglo-Germanic romance would have -remained sealed volumes for all youthful readers; they therefore -owe a debt of gratitude to him who has translated, condensed, and -put them into a popular prose form for their -perusal.”—<i>Academy</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>THE HOUSE BY THE WORKS</b>. By <span -class="smcap">Edward Garrett</span>, Author of “Occupations -of a Retired Life,” &c., &c. With -Frontispiece. Third and Cheaper edition. Crown 8vo., -cloth extra. 3s. 6d.</p> -<blockquote><p>“The girls with their Quaker and Moravian -training, the worthy and benevolent Mrs. Pendlebury, and society -generally, rich and poor, in Perford, are depicted with -skill.”—<i>Daily News</i>.</p> -<p>“The picture he gives us here of the Enticknapp -household, with its Moravian and Quaker traditions, is one nearly -perfect of its kind for sobriety of taste and freedom from all -sentimental exaggerations.”—<i>Graphic</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>THE PRINCE OF THE HUNDRED SOUPS</b>: A Puppet Show in -Narrative. Edited, with a Preface by <span -class="smcap">Vernon Lee</span>, Author of “Belcaro,” -“Studies of the Eighteenth Century in Italy,” -&c. With Four Illustrations in Sepia, by <span -class="smcap">Sarah Birch</span>. Cheaper edition. -Square 8vo., cloth. 3s. 6d.</p> -<blockquote><p>“There is more humour in the volume than in -half-a-dozen ordinary -pantomimes.”—<i>Spectator</i>.</p> -<p>“The preface is really more interesting than the -‘Prince of the Hundred Soups,’ and that—as we -hope our readers will find out for themselves—is saying a -good deal.”—<i>Academy</i>.</p> -<p>“For myself, I can say that it had upon me the -appetising effect of that dish in Horace which ‘replaced -the sated guest upon his elbow;’ for though, when I took it -up, I was utterly weary and dazed with the number of books I had -gone through, yet I devoured it from cover to cover with a new -zest.”—<i>Truth</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><a name="page2_21"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -21</span><b>INDUSTRIAL CURIOSITIES</b>: Glances Here and There in -the World of Labour. Written and Edited by <span -class="smcap">Alexander Hay Japp</span>, LL.D., F.R.S.E. -Third edition. Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 3s. 6d.</p> -<blockquote><p>“Would make an excellent prize or -present-book, especially for boys with a taste for miscellaneous -information. Anyone, however, whose notion of a book is not -limited to novels ought to be able to read it with pleasure, and -can hardly do so without profit.”—<i>Academy</i>.</p> -<p>“Dr. Japp travels through a variety of subjects, always -entertaining and instructive.”—<i>Spectator</i>.</p> -<p>“Nowadays boys are so fed upon story books and books of -adventure that we welcome a book which tells them something about -the facts of the world they live -in.”—<i>Graphic</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>OLD FAITHS IN NEW LIGHT</b>. By <span -class="smcap">Newman Smyth</span>, D.D. Crown 8vo., -cloth. 3s. 6d.</p> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>PLANT LIFE</b>: Popular Papers on the Phenomena of -Botany. By <span class="smcap">Edward Step</span>. -With 148 Illustrations drawn by the Author. Third -edition. Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 3s. 6d.</p> -<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">OPINIONS OF -THE PRESS</span>.</p> -<blockquote><p>“The author has produced a little volume -well suited to attract the attention and stimulate the curiosity -of the student. By clothing the dry details of -morphological construction with information as to the life -history of plants, and by calling attention to the varied -adaptations of form to function, he has followed in the wake of -that numerous band of naturalists who have at once done so much -to extend the bounds of botanical science, and to make it -attractive to the -amateur.”—<i>Athenæum</i>.</p> -<p>“More delightful reading for the country at this season -of the year authors and publishers have not provided for -us.”—<i>Pall Mall Gazette</i>.</p> -<p>“An unpretending book, whose contents cover a very great -extent of botanical ground.”—<i>Science -Gossip</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>ILLUSTRATED CATALOGUE OF THE ROYAL SOCIETY OF PAINTERS IN -WATER COLOURS</b>, 1884. Comprising Seventy-five Facsimiles -of Sketches by the Artists. Demy. 1s.</p> -<h3><a name="page2_22"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 22</span>NEW -AND RECENT POETRY.</h3> -<p><b>A MINOR POET</b>: And other Verses. By <span -class="smcap">Amy Levy</span>. Crown 8vo., paper board -style, uncut edges. 3s. 6d.</p> -<blockquote><p>“A distinct advance in power on Miss -Levy’s former verse. . . . It will be hard if her -verse does not win many friends by its sympathy and -tenderness.”—<i>Cambridge Review</i>.</p> -<p>“Some of her more ambitious pieces remind one of George -Eliot’s poems.”—<i>St. James’s -Gazette</i>.</p> -<p>“Her idea of the character of ‘Xantippe’ is -certainly original, and several of her shorter pieces are simple, -heartfelt, and harmonius.”—<i>Whitehall -Review</i>.</p> -<p>“Deserves to be singled out from the mass of every-day -verse for special commendation. The book is very much above -the average of such productions.”—<i>Derby -Mercury</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>MEASURED STEPS</b>. By <span class="smcap">Ernest -Radford</span>. Crown 8vo., cloth. 4s.</p> -<blockquote><p>“He is very happy in his ‘Translations -from Heine,’ fully entering into the poet’s humour, -and deftly reproducing the half-sarcastic, half-pathetic spirit -in which Heine so often wrote.”—<i>Whitehall -Review</i>.</p> -<p>“Mr. Radford is himself a poet of no mean ability, and -with a good deal of Heine in his -composition.”—<i>Sheffield Independent</i>.</p> -<p>“He has imported into his deeper verse the beauty of a -half-regretful subtlety and the interest of a real -penetration. He can think with fineness and record his -thoughts with point.”—<i>Frederick Wedmore</i>, <i>in -The Academy</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>POEMS AND BALLADS</b>. By <span class="smcap">Pryce -Gwynne</span>. Square Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 3s. -6d.</p> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>COLLEGE DAYS</b>: Recorded in Blank Verse. Printed on -Dutch hand-made paper. Fcap. 8vo., parchment. 5s.</p> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>A RIVER HOLIDAY</b>. The Lay of a Boating Trip. -With 17 Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Harry -Furniss</span>. Demy 8vo. 1s.</p> -<blockquote><p>“This delightful <i>brochure</i> is -exquisitively illustrated.”—<i>Society</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><a name="page2_23"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -23</span><b>THE TREASURE BOOK OF CONSOLATION</b>: For all in -Sorrow or Suffering. Compiled and Edited by <span -class="smcap">Benjamin Orme</span>, M.A., Editor of “The -Treasure Book of Devotional Reading.” Crown 8vo., -cloth extra, gilt top. 3s. 6d.</p> -<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">OPINIONS OF -THE PRESS</span>.</p> -<blockquote><p>“The book is a striking testimony to the -fact that, whatever else Christianity may be, it is emphatically -a power that consoles. Pain and sorrow, as mirrored in -these extracts, are no accidents of human life, not evil to be -endured with what firmness a man may, but something by which life -is made wider, deeper, purer, and infinitely more glorious than -it otherwise could have been.”—<i>Spectator</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>BEAUTIES AND FRIGHTS</b>, WITH THE STORY OF -BOBINETTE. By <span class="smcap">Sarah Tytler</span>, -Author of “Papers for Thoughtful Girls,” -“Footprints,” &c. Illustrated by M. E. -<span class="smcap">Edwards</span>. Second Edition. -Small 8vo., cloth extra, gilt edges. 2s. 6d.</p> -<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">OPINIONS OF -THE PRESS</span>.</p> -<blockquote><p>“Delightful sketches of girls’ -lives.”—<i>Academy</i>.</p> -<p>“Miss Tytler is one of the few writers of modern times -who know how to write girls’ stories. It is -impossible for her to be dull; her tales are always sprightly, -easy, and clever, and while she does not condescend to preach, -there are admirable life-lessons to be learned in all she -writes.”—<i>Literary World</i>.</p> -<p>“Clever bits of character -sketching.”—<i>Publishers’ Circular</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>THE SHIPWRECKED MARINER</b>: A Quarterly Maritime -Magazine. Edited by W. R. <span class="smcap">Buck</span>, -Secretary of the Shipwrecked Mariners’ Society. -Illustrated. Published in January, April, July, and -October. 6d. Yearly Volumes 3s. 6d.</p> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><a name="page2_24"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -24</span><b>VERS DE SOCIÉTÉ & PARODY</b>, with -other Essays. By H. A. <span class="smcap">Page</span>, -Author of “De Quincey,” and -“Thoreau.” Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 2d. -6d.</p> -<blockquote><p>“We have been much interested in this -amusing and instructive volume, the first half of which is -devoted to ‘Vers de Société and -Parody.’ . . . If published alone this essay itself would -have deserved to have been placed alongside of the famous -Rejected Addresses.”—<i>Literary World</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>THE ILLUSTRATED POETRY BOOK</b> for Young Readers. -Sm. Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 2s. 6d. Gilt -edges. 3s.</p> -<blockquote><p>“It is the best book of the kind which has -passed through our hands for some -time.”—<i>Bookseller</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>THE WAY TO FORTUNE</b>: A Series of Short Essays, with -Illustrative Proverbs and Anecdotes from many sources. -Third edition. Small 8vo., cloth extra 2s. 6d.</p> -<blockquote><p>“Profusely illustrated with proverbs and -anecdotes, which being throughout apt to the injunctions, are -likely to act as useful memories, when the text of ‘The Way -to Fortune’ is not at hand.”—<i>The -Inquirer</i>.</p> -<p>“The author is not only a man with a large outlook upon -human affairs, but with a wide and varied knowledge of English -literature. Any young man—or, for that matter, any -young woman—who will lay the counsels of this book to -heart, cannot fail to find the way to nobility, fruitfulness, and -usefulness of life, if not to fortune. We could wish -nothing better for this book than to see it in the hands of all -who set any value on self-help.”—<i>Literary -World</i>.</p> -<p>“This is not a big book, but it contains no fewer than -fifty essays. Each is necessarily brief, and yet there is -not one that does not contain a large amount of wisdom, made more -effective by the help of illustrative proverbs and -anecdotes. We gratefully recognise the high-toned manliness -and spirituality of the skilful maker of the book. It ought -to become a standard, and will make a useful present to a young -man—all the more that it is certain to be read, so full is -it of interest, so amusing and vivacious, as well as instructive -and solid.”—<i>The Freeman</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><a name="page2_25"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -25</span><b>MARGARET THE MOONBEAM</b>: A Tale for the -Young. By <span class="smcap">Cecilia Lushington</span>, -Author of “Over the Seas and Far Away.” With -Illustrations by M. E. <span class="smcap">Edwards</span>. -Second Edition. Small 8vo., cloth extra, gilt edges. -2s. 6d.</p> -<p style="text-align: center"> -<a href="images/p24_2b.jpg"> -<img alt= -"A specimen of the illustrations: girl with mother and old lady" -title= -"A specimen of the illustrations: girl with mother and old lady" - src="images/p24_2s.jpg" /> -</a></p> -<p><a name="page2_26"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -26</span><b>PRINCIPLES TO START WITH</b>. By <span -class="smcap">Isaac Watts</span>, D.D. Introduction by -<span class="smcap">Thomas Binney</span>, D.D. Seventh -Thousand. 32mo, red edges, cloth elegant, or in the new -wood binding: maple, cedar, walnut, and sycamore. 1s.</p> -<blockquote><p>“A gem in the way of printing and binding, -while the excellence of the short practical precepts offered by -the writers can hardly be -over-estimated.”—<i>Rock</i>.</p> -<p>“Just the sort of book for a young man setting out in -life. It can easily be carried in the waistcoat pocket, and -we can conceive of no better <i>vade mecum</i>. It is -seldom that we meet with so much good sense packed into so small -a space.”—<i>Congregationalist</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>THE CHILDREN’S BOUQUET OF VERSE AND HYMN</b>. -Gathered by <span class="smcap">Aunt Sarah</span> and <span -class="smcap">Cousin Grace</span>. 32mo, red edges, cloth -elegant, or wood: maple, cedar, walnut, or sycamore. -1s.</p> -<blockquote><p>“Love for the little ones has clearly been -at work in the making of this selection; good taste as well, and -a most catholic sympathy.”—<i>Christian -Leader</i>.</p> -<p>“Its little verses and hymns are selected with fine -taste and appreciation of children’s likings. -Externally, the book is a little -gem.”—<i>Baptist</i>.</p> -<p>“One of the daintiest of dainty little books for little -people. The selection of verses is admirable, containing, -with some old favourites, many that will be fresh to most -children.”—<i>Christian</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>THE STARRY BLOSSOM</b>, <b>and OTHER STORIES</b>. By -M. <span class="smcap">Betham-Edwards</span>, Author of -“Minna’s Holiday,” &c. Illustrations -by Miss <span class="smcap">Joanna Samworth</span>. Small -8vo., cloth extra. 1s. 6d.</p> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>DAN STAPLETON’S LAST RACE</b>. By Mrs. <span -class="smcap">Milne Rae</span>, Author of “Morag,” -“Hartleigh Towers,” &c. Small 8vo., cloth -extra. 1s. 6d.</p> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>WINMORE & CO</b>. A Tale of the Great Bank -Failure. Small 8vo., cloth extra. 1s.</p> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page2_27"></a><span -class="pagenum">p. 27</span>A <span class="smcap">Handbook -to</span><br /> -<b>THE FERNERY AND AQUARIUM</b>,</p> -<p>containing full directions how to make, stock, and maintain -Ferneries and Freshwater Aquaria. By J. H. <span -class="smcap">Martin</span> and <span class="smcap">James -Weston</span>. With 43 Illustrations. Crown 8vo., -cloth extra. 1s. Paper Covers. 9d.</p> -<p style="text-align: -center"><sup>*</sup><sub>*</sub><sup>*</sup> Issued also in two -parts, paper covers, 6d. each.</p> -<blockquote><p>“We cordially recommend it as the best -little <i>brochure</i> on ferns we have yet seen. Its -merits far exceed those of much larger and more pretentious -works.”—<i>Science Gossip</i>.</p> -<p>“Though what Mr. Weston has to say is comprised within -fifty pages, it forms one of the best manuals on the subject we -have seen.”—<i>English Mechanic</i>.</p> -<p>“Few of the people, perhaps, who are sincere lovers of -flowers and gardens, imagine the ‘fern paradise’ it -is possible for them to make with very little trouble. To -such we would commend this admirable manual. In brief -compass, and without wasting words, it tells all that is -necessary to be known for the general cultivation of these lovely -plants.”—<i>Literary World</i>.</p> -<p>“Those who are anxious to know the methods by which the -fresh-water, the insect, the microscopical and the marine -aquaria, are managed with success will do well to consult Mr. -Weston’s pages.”—<i>Field Naturalist</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>ADULTERATIONS OF FOOD</b> (How to Detect the). By the -Author of “Ferns and Ferneries.” Numerous -Illustrations. Crown 8vo., sewed. 9d.</p> -<blockquote><p>“The little work before us offers many -useful hints to householders as to the detection of everyday -adulteration.”—<i>Pall Mall Gazette</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>THE BATH AND BATHING</b>. By Dr. J. <span -class="smcap">Farrar</span>, F.R.C.P.E. Crown 8vo., limp -cloth. 9d.</p> -<blockquote><p>“Dr. Farrar’s manual is not only -cheap, but it is so clear, concise, and practical that no one -need fail to carry out his instructions, or in deriving wise -counsel and direction from his pages.”—<i>Literary -World</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><a name="page2_28"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -28</span><b>HALF-HOLIDAY HANDBOOKS</b>: Guides to Rambles round -London. With Maps, Illustrations, and Bicycle Routes. -Crown 8vo., sewed 9d. Cloth 1s.</p> -<table> -<tr> -<td><p style="text-align: right">I.</p> -</td> -<td><p>KINGSTON-ON-THAMES AND DISTRICT.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p style="text-align: right">II.</p> -</td> -<td><p>ROUND REIGATE.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p style="text-align: right">III.</p> -</td> -<td><p>DORKING AND DISTRICT.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p style="text-align: right">IV.</p> -</td> -<td><p>ROUND RICHMOND.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p style="text-align: right">V.</p> -</td> -<td><p>GEOLOGICAL RAMBLES ROUND LONDON: A Guide to Old-World -London.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p style="text-align: right">VI.</p> -</td> -<td><p>ROUND TUNBRIDGE WELLS.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p style="text-align: right">VII.</p> -</td> -<td><p>GREENWICH, BLACKHEATH, AND DISTRICT.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p style="text-align: right">VIII.</p> -</td> -<td><p>FROM CROYDON TO THE NORTH DOWNS.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p style="text-align: right">IX.</p> -</td> -<td><p>ROUND BROMLEY, KESTON, AND DISTRICT.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p style="text-align: right">X.</p> -</td> -<td><p>ROUND SYDENHAM & NORWOOD.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p style="text-align: right">XI.</p> -</td> -<td><p>WIMBLEDON, PUTNEY, AND DISTRICT, including BARNES, -ROEHAMPTON, MERTON. &c.</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td></td> -<td><p>EPPING FOREST AND DISTRICT.</p> -<p>HAMPSTEAD, HIGHGATE, FINCHLEY, AND DISTRICT.</p> -<p>GUILDFORD, GODALMING, AND DISTRICT.</p> -<p style="text-align: center"><i>The last three are in -preparation</i>.</p> -</td> -</tr> -</table> -<blockquote><p>“We could not do better than consult one of -these cheap Handbooks.”—<i>Times</i>.</p> -<p>“Those Half-Holiday Handbooks are very useful. But -why not ‘Whole Holiday Pocket Books,’ showing where -to go, when to go, and how to go it? If Mr. Fisher Unwin -doesn’t look sharp, we shall have this series out ourselves -about Whitsuntide.”—<i>Punch</i>.</p> -<p>“Will be a boon to the weary Londoner, anxious to -commune with nature.”—<i>The Inquirer</i>.</p> -<p>“Capital guides to walks in the -districts.”—<i>Daily Chronicle</i>.</p> -<p>“A pleasant and convenient series of books for the -guidance of the pedestrian.”—<i>Literary -World</i>.</p> -<p>“An idea with which we and our fellow-naturalists -heartily sympathise. The series is one marked by that -feeling for nature which it is so desirable to -extend.”—“H. W., in <i>Bayswater -Chronicle</i>.</p> -<p>“The publishers have hit upon a good idea in their -Half-Holiday Handbooks, which are likely to become popular -favourites.”—<i>Graphic</i>.</p> -<p><a name="page2_29"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -29</span>“The publishers have done well in issuing these -little readable manuals for the guidance of the Londoner, who, -pent up all the week over his desk, or otherwise debarred from -the sight of more natural objects than city sparrows, seeks in -the short space granted him by the Saturday half-holiday -movement, or on the feast-days of St. Lubbock, that closer -acquaintance with the rural delights so necessary for his bodily -and mental health. It is, of course, impossible in the -short space of some seventy or eighty small pages to do more than -indicate the chief attractions of localities so pleasant by -nature as those above named; but these are very fairly set forth, -and being illustrated by sections of a map on the scale of nearly -one and a half miles to the inch, will be found of decided -utility to the pedestrian in search of an -object.”—<i>The Field</i>.</p> -<p>“Fulfil their purpose thoroughly as a tourist’s -companions in his rambles about districts within a short distance -from London.”—<i>Bookseller</i>.</p> -<p>“They combine the useful information of the hackneyed -local guide-book with something which is rarer and more difficult -to present—the fostering of a love of nature and the -kindling of some enthusiasm for the objects generally passed -unheeded by the run of holiday excursionists, because they have -had no chance of learning how to observe, nor have tasted the -delights of it. . . . The information is very closely -packed, and justice is done to the lovely scenery and scientific -novelties of the neighbourhood. The books are certainly -cheap and well got up.”—<i>Nonconformist</i>.</p> -<p>“The best guides of the kind we have yet -seen.”—<i>Lund and Water</i>.</p> -<p>“Will be found to add much interest to a Saturday -afternoon walk into the country.”—<i>Nature</i>.</p> -<p>“Should achieve a wide popularity.”—<i>Court -Circular</i>.</p> -<p>“All models of what a gossiping guide-book should -be.”—<i>South London Press</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>GENESIS THE THIRD</b>: History, not Fable. Being the -Merchants’ Lecture for March, 1883. By <span -class="smcap">Edward White</span>. Crown 8vo., Cloth -extra. 1s. Sewed 6d.</p> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>SISTER EDITH’S PROBATION</b>. By E. <span -class="smcap">Conder Gray</span>, Author of “Wise -Words.” Small 8vo., cloth extra. 1s.</p> -<blockquote><p>“The three tales of which this volume is -composed are not only well written, but cannot fail to strengthen -those who read them, especially the young, in pure and holy -living.”—<i>Literary World</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<h3><a name="page2_30"></a><span class="pagenum">p. -30</span>EDUCATIONAL WORKS.</h3> -<p style="text-align: center"><b>ARMY EXAMINATION SERIES</b>.</p> -<p>I. <b>GEOMETRICAL DRAWING</b>: Containing General Hints -to Candidates. Former Papers set at the Preliminary and -Further Examinations, and Four Hundred Questions for Practice in -Scales and General Problems. By C. H. <span -class="smcap">Octavius Curtis</span>. Illustrated. -Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 2s. 6d.</p> -<p>II. <b>A MANUAL OF FRENCH GRAMMAR</b>. By <span -class="smcap">Le Compte de la Houssaye</span>, Officier de la -Légion d’Honneur, French Examiner for Military and -Civil Appointments. Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 2s. -6d.</p> -<p>III. <b>GEOGRAPHY QUESTIONS</b>: Especially adapted for -Candidates preparing for the Preliminary Examination. By R. -H. <span class="smcap">Allpress</span>. M.A., Trin. Coll., -Camb. Crown 8vo., cloth extra. 2s. 6d.</p> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>EASY LESSONS IN BOTANY</b>. By <span -class="smcap">Edward Step</span>, Author of “Plant -Life.” With 120 Illustrations by the Author. -Third Edition. Linen covers. 7d. Also in two -parts, paper covers, 3d. each.</p> -<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">OPINIONS Of -THE PRESS</span>.</p> -<blockquote><p>“Numerously illustrated, clearly written, -with a good deal of matter packed with much dexterity into a -small space.”—<i>Science Gossip</i>.</p> -<p>“The arrangement is good; the illustrations are very -numerous, there being three or four on almost every page; and the -writer has done much to simplify the -subject.”—<i>School Guardian</i>.</p> -<p>“Still another primer of botany! Well, we cannot -have too many, provided all are as good as this -one.”—<i>The Inquirer</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>POETICAL READER FOR THE USE OF SCHOOLS</b>. Arranged -on an entirely new principle, with Illustrations specially done -for the work. In Two Parts, each. 1s. 3d. Or in -sections separately.</p> -<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">OPINIONS OF -THE PRESS</span>.</p> -<blockquote><p>“The editor of these two little volumes has -managed to strike out an entirely new line for his pupils, and -one which scarcely at any point crosses the beaten track. . . -. To many readers besides school-children his volumes will -present all the charms of novelty. The compiler has -evidently a large acquaintance with the poetical literature of -our country, and an excellent ear for the music of poetry. . . -. The work is therefore one of exceptional -interest.”—<i>School Board Chronicle</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><a name="page2_31"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 31</span><b>AN -ENGLISH GRAMMAR FOR SCHOOLS</b>. Adapted to the -Requirements of the Revised Code. In Three Parts. -Price 2d. each, or complete in one cover, 6s.</p> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p style="text-align: -center"><sup>*</sup><sub>*</sub><sup>*</sup> <i>Adopted by the -London School Board</i>.</p> -<p><b>FIRST NATURAL HISTORY READER</b>. For Standard -II. In accordance with the requirements of the Revised -Code. Beautifully Illustrated. Crown 8vo., -cloth. 9d.</p> -<blockquote><p>“Written in a simple and pleasant -style.”—<i>School Guardian</i>.</p> -<p>“The woodcuts, which are to be found on every page, will -make the lessons pleasant to the scholars, and the text is wisely -put in a semi-conversational form, calculated to induce -intelligent reading.”—<i>Publisher’s -Circular</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>THE HOUSE PURCHASERS GUIDE</b>: Practical Hints for all -Householders. By <span class="smcap">Frederick -Snelling</span>. Demy 16mo., Cloth limp. 9d.</p> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>A CUP OF COFFEE</b>. Illustrated. Fcap. 8vo., -boards. 1s.</p> -<blockquote><p>“This pleasant gossiping monograph . . . -light and genial throughout.”—<i>Daily -Chronicle</i>.</p> -</blockquote> - -<div class="gapshortline"> </div> -<p><b>THE HISTORY OF RASSELAS</b>, Prince of Abyssinia. By -<span class="smcap">Samuel Johnson</span>, LL.D. A new -edition, small crown 8vo. 1s.</p> -<h2><a name="page2_32"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 32</span>LIST -OF BOOKS ARRANGED IN ORDER OF PRICE.</h2> -<table> -<tr> -<td></td> -<td><p style="text-align: center">£</p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: center"><i>s.</i></p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: center"><i>d.</i></p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p>Epic of Kings. Edition de Luxe. Artists’ -Proofs. signed and numbered. Parchment</p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right">3</p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right">3</p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right">0</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p>— Etchings on India paper, -unsigned. Cloth extra.</p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right">2</p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right">2</p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right">0</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p>Euphorion: Studies of the Antique and the Mediæval -in the Renaissance. Two vols.</p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right">1</p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right">1</p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right">0</p> -</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p>German Life and Literature</p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right">0</p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right">12</p> -</td> -<td><p style="text-align: right">0</p> -</td> -</tr> -</table> -<h3>7s. 7d.</h3> -<p>Epic of Kings. Pop. ed.</p> -<p>Half-Hours with Famous Ambassadors.</p> -<p>Robinson Crusoe.</p> -<p>Summer. By Henry D. Thoreau.</p> -<p>Thomas Carlyle.</p> -<h3>6s. 6d.</h3> -<p>Mediations on First Psalm.</p> -<h3>6s.</h3> -<p>Amazon, The.</p> -<p>Arminius Vambéry.</p> -<p>Gladys Fane.</p> -<p>Law and the Prophets.</p> -<p>Lights in Lands of Darkness.</p> -<p>Tales of Modern Oxford.</p> -<p>Temple. Imitation Morocco.</p> -<h3>5s.</h3> -<p>College Days.</p> -<p>Henry Irving.</p> -<p>Modern Missions.</p> -<p>Pilgrim Sorrow.</p> -<p>Poems and Hymns.</p> -<p>Sunshine and Shadows.</p> -<p>Temple, The.</p> -<h3>4s. 6d.</h3> -<p>Our Modern Philosophers.</p> -<p>Roman Students, The.</p> -<h3>4s.</h3> -<p>Measured Steps.</p> -<h3>3s. 6d.</h3> -<p>Christ of History. By Young.</p> -<p>Dick’s Holidays.</p> -<p>Footprints. By Sarah Tytler.</p> -<p>Future Work of Free Trade.</p> -<p>Gudrun, Beowulf & Roland.</p> -<p>House by the Works.</p> -<p>Human Voice, The.</p> -<p>Industrial Curiosities.</p> -<p>I’ve been A’Gipsying.</p> -<p>Old Faiths in New Light.</p> -<p>Oriental Carpets.</p> -<p>Ottilie. By Vernon Lee.</p> -<p>Plant Life. By Edward Step.</p> -<p>Poems and Ballads.</p> -<p>Prince of the 100 Soups.</p> -<p>Settling Day.</p> -<p>Shipwrecked Mariner. Yearly Vols.</p> -<p>Treasure Book of Consolation.</p> -<p>“Lives Worth Living” Series:</p> -<p class="gutindent">Leaders of Men.</p> -<p class="gutindent">Wise Words and Loving Deeds.</p> -<p class="gutindent">Master Missionaries.</p> -<p class="gutindent">Labour and Victory.</p> -<p class="gutindent">Heroic Adventure.</p> -<h3>3s.</h3> -<p>Illustrated Poetry Book. Gilt edges.</p> -<h3>2s. 6d.</h3> -<p>American Dishes.</p> -<p>Beauties and Frights.</p> -<p>Illustrated Poetry Book. Cloth extra.</p> -<p>Margaret the Moonbeam.</p> -<p>Molinos: Golden Thoughts.</p> -<p>Off Duty.</p> -<p>Vers de Société and Poetry.</p> -<p>Ways to Fortune.</p> -<p>Army Examination Series:</p> -<blockquote><p>I. Geometrical Drawing.</p> -<p>II. Manual of French Grammar.</p> -<p>III. Geography Questions.</p> -</blockquote> -<h3>2s.</h3> -<p>Dr. Johnson.</p> -<p>John Wiclif.</p> -<p>Table Talk of Martin Luther.</p> -<h3>1s. 6d</h3> -<p>Dan Stapleton’s Last Race.</p> -<p>Starry blossoms.</p> -<h3>1s. 3d.</h3> -<p>Poetical Reader. Two parts, each 1<i>s.</i> -3<i>d.</i></p> -<h3>1s.</h3> -<p>Children’s Bouquet.</p> -<p>Cup of Coffee.</p> -<p>Fernery and Aquarium. Cloth extra.</p> -<p>History of Rasselas.</p> -<p>Illust. Cat. of Roy. Society of Painters in Water Colours.</p> -<p>Principles to Start With.</p> -<p>River Holiday, A.</p> -<p>Sister Edith’s Probation.</p> -<p>Stops. By Paul Allardyre.</p> -<p>Winmore and Co.</p> -<p>Half-Holiday Handbooks:</p> -<p class="gutindent">I. Kingston and District.</p> -<p class="gutindent">II. Round Reigate.</p> -<p class="gutindent">III. Dorking and District.</p> -<p class="gutindent">IV. Round Richmond.</p> -<p class="gutindent">V. Geol. Rambles round London.</p> -<p class="gutindent">VI. Round Tunbridge Wells.</p> -<p class="gutindent">VII. Greenwich & District.</p> -<p class="gutindent">VIII. From Croydon to North Downs.</p> -<p class="gutindent">IX. Round Bromley and District.</p> -<p class="gutindent">X. Round Sydenham, &c.</p> -<p class="gutindent">XI. Wimbledon, &c.</p> -<p class="gutindent">• Epping Forest & District.</p> -<p class="gutindent">• Hampstead and District.</p> -<p class="gutindent">• Guildford and District.</p> -<p class="gutindent">• <i>These are in preparation</i>.</p> -<h3>9d.</h3> -<p>Adulteration of Food.</p> -<p>Bath, The, and Bathing.</p> -<p>Fernery & Aquarium. Paper cover.</p> -<p>First Natural Hist. Reader.</p> -<p>House Purchaser’s Guide.</p> -<p>Half-Holiday Handbooks Sd.:</p> -<p class="gutindent">For List, <i>see</i> Books at 1<i>s.</i></p> -<h3>7d.</h3> -<p>Early Lessons in Botany.</p> -<h3>6d.</h3> -<p>English Grammar.</p> -<p>Fernery & Aquarium. 2 pts., each 6<i>d.</i></p> -<p>Genesis the Third. Swd.</p> -<p>Shipwrecked Manner. Quarterly Parts.</p> - -<div class="gapmediumline"> </div> -<p style="text-align: center"><b>LONDON: T. FISHER UNWIN, 26, -PATERNOSTER SQUARE, E.C.</b></p> -<h2>FOOTNOTES.</h2> -<p><a name="footnote161"></a><a href="#citation161" -class="footnote">[161]</a> “Our <span -class="smcap">Gipsy Children</span>.—(To the Editor of the -<i>Daily News</i>.)—Sir, I counted to-day at the great -Oxford Fair over two hundred and twenty vans and covered carts, -in each of which there would be an average of four children and -two men and women living and huddling together regardless of -every principle of decency. In many cases filth, dirt, and -ignorance prevailed to an alarming extent. Not a few of the -poor women and children exhibited signs of their having been in -close warfare with rough treatment. Not five per cent. of -the thousand human beings could read and write a sentence. -What a farce upon our Christianity and civilization it is to have -this mass of human beings living actually in the centre of -learning, religious influences, and civilization. We have -Bibles, ministers, colleges, sanitary officers, and education -inspectors on every hand, and no power but the police-man -exerting any influence over our poor lost wanderers. What I -want is that their thirty thousand children should receive a free -education—as I propose in an amending Bill to meet the case -of the canal children—and their vans registered and brought -under the influence of the sanitary officers on a simple -plan. The gipsies themselves will hail a measure of this -kind with considerable delight.”</p> -<p>This letter brought forth a reply, to which I rejoined as -follows:</p> -<p>“Your correspondent’s repudiation of my statements -in your issue of the 5th inst. does not alter the facts—not -‘ideas’—which were given to me by the -travellers themselves in broad daylight in the midst of a pouring -rain, with the object of getting their condition improved, not by -winking and blinking at the evil and allowing it to grow into a -more dangerous sore, to be dealt with by the policeman, but to be -faced by extending the blessings of a free education to all -travelling children, and bringing sanitation to their -homes. His statements about immorality have been -manufactured by himself; but as he has been good enough to take -my references and weave them into a cap which fits, I must allow -him the pleasure of wearing it. The sad facts, seen by -myself, in my possession, in addition to those published in my -‘Gipsy Life,’ will most assuredly come to light some -day. With reference to his remarks about no gipsy vans -being at Oxford fair, this is absolutely untrue. I look -upon all as gipsies who, with gipsy blood in their veins, are -tramping the country, hawking and adopting gipsy usages, customs, -slang, and ‘rokering,’ if only slightly. The -fact is the old-fashioned gipsies are dead, and their places are -being taken by increasing numbers of travellers who are not so -romantic, living in covered carts and waggons, whose wives -sometimes scrape together a little money in the summer to keep -many of the men in idleness in the winter. Your -correspondent takes credit for the education of the children in -the winter. This he knows perfectly well is what the law -requires of those who have settled homes, but he is silent about -the worse than undoing the teachers’ work in the summer; -thereby placing the poor gipsy children upon the vagabond’s -path to ruin. Of course all are not alike. There are -the usual good, bad, and indifferent among them. The sad -condition, morally, socially, and religiously, of many of the -poor gipsy and other travelling women and children is truly -horrible, and no amount of wincing at the shadow of redeeming -features which are to follow will stop me till the 70,000 canal -and gipsy children are educated by means of a free pass book, the -hard lot of the women lightened, and their travelling homes made -more happy and conformable with civilized notions and ideas; and -if he is wise he will help forward the work, with a willing -hand.”</p> -<p><a name="footnote215"></a><a href="#citation215" -class="footnote">[215]</a> It is said that Lord -Beaconsfield in his youthful days attended the place of worship -to which the poor girl referred; and it is also stated that the -bones of one of Cromwell’s generals lie smouldering in the -dust within or near the sacred precincts. Extremes meet -sometimes.</p> -<p><a name="footnote329"></a><a href="#citation329" -class="footnote">[329]</a> On March the 5th, within three -months of my visit to Yetholm, Mr. Laidlaw writes me to say that -the Yetholm gipsies are taking to settled and constant employment -at the farmers’ in the neighbourhood. This is -cheering news, and shows most clearly that my plans will work out -rightly, as I have told the gipsies at Yetholm and other places, -without any inconvenience to them worth naming.</p> -<p><a name="footnote339"></a><a href="#citation339" -class="footnote">[339]</a> I am much indebted to Mr. Joyce, -Mr. F. W. Chesson, Mr. George Bettany, Rev. A. E. Gregory, Mr. H. -E. Duke, Mr. T. S. Townend, Mr. Mallet, Mr. Guy, Mr. Fisher, Mr. -W. H. Lucy, Messrs. Joshua and Joseph Hatton, Mr. M. E. Stark, -Mr. D. Gorrie, Mr. R. W. Boyle, Mr. W. Saunders, Mr. E. Robbins, -Emma Leslie, Mr. S. R. Bennett, Mr. B. G. Burleigh, Rev. W. L. -Lang, Mr. J. Moore, Mr. J. B. Marsh, Mr. J. D. Shaw, Mr. J. H. -Thomas, Mr. Kinnear, Rev. B. Burrows, Mr. G. J. Stevenson, M.A., -Mr. J. Tod, Rev. Mark Guy Pearse, L. T. Meade, Rev. Chas. -Bullock, B.A., Mr. F. Sherlock, Rev. Earnest Boys, M.A., Dr. -Grosart, Mr. A. Locker, Rev. R. Spears, Mr. B. Clarke, Mr. James -Clarke, Mr. Clayden, Mr. W. Binns, Mr. E. Walford, M.A., Mr. -Lobb, Rev. J. Duncan, M.A. Messrs. Morgan and Scott, Mr. Jean, -Mr. R. Albery, Rev. B. Waugh, Dr. Parker, Mr. G. A. Sala, Mr. W. -Bradshaw, Mr. J. Lloyd, Dr. Westby Gibeon, Mr. Alex. H. Grant, -M.A., Dr. J. H. James, Mr. Ewing Ritchie, Mr. J. Hind, Mr. G. -Howell, Mr. J. Hutton, Mr. J. Latey, Mr. Maurice Adams, Mr. J. L. -Nye, Revs. E. Weldon, M.A., and Colin McKecknie, W. Y. Fullerton, -C. H. Kelly, G. Holden Pike, C. H. Spurgeon, Dr. Gregory, Rev. G. -W. Weldon, M.A., Rev. D. Darnell, M.A., Rev. Dr. Stephenson, Rev. -Vernon J. Charlesworth, Dr. Barnardo, Mr. Edward Lloyd, Mr. W. T. -Stead, Miss Fredricks, Mr. G. Barnet Smith, Mr. G. F. Millin, Mr. -J. F. Rolph, Mr. W. T. E. Boscawen, Mr. A. Watson, Mr. J. -Russell, Mr. E. Step, Mr. Austin, Mr. Harry Hicks, Dr. Griffith, -Mr. Morrison Davidson, Mr. Massingham, Mr. S. Reeve, Rev. W. M. -Burnet, M.A., Rev. Ponsonby A. Lyons, Miss Nellie Hellis, Miss J. -Gordon Sutherland, “Una.”</p> -<pre> - - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK I'VE BEEN A GIPSYING*** - - -***** This file should be named 62432-h.htm or 62432-h.zip****** - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/6/2/4/3/62432 - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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