The English Gipsies and Their Language Part 25

GUDLO x.x.xVI. A GIPSY ACCOUNT OF THE TRUE ORIGIN OF THE FISH CALLED OLD MAIDS OR YOUNG MAIDS.

Yeckorus kushti-d.i.c.kin raklos were suvvin' 'dree the lun panni, and there welled odoi some plochti raklis an' juvas who pooked the tano ryas to hav' avree an' choomer 'em. But the raklos wouldn't well avree, so the ranis rikkered their rivabens avree an' pirried adree the panni paul'

lendy. An' the ryas who were kandered alay, suvved andurer 'dree the panni, an' the ranis pallered 'em far avree till they were saw latchered, raklos and raklis. So the tauno ryas were purabened into Barini Mus.h.i.+ Matchis because they were too ladge (latcho) of the ranis that kaumed 'em, and the ranis were kaired adree Puri Rani Matchis and Tani Rani Matchis because they were too tatti an' ruzli.

Raklos shouldn't be too ladge, nor raklis be too boro of their kokeros.

TRANSLATION.

Once some handsome youths were swimming in the sea, and there came some wanton women and girls who told the young men to come out and kiss them.

But the youths would not come out, so the ladies stripped themselves and ran into the water after them. And the gentles who were driven away swam further into the water, and the ladies followed them far away till all were lost, boys and girls. So the young men were changed into Codfish because they were too shy of the girls that loved them, and the ladies were turned into Old Maids and Young Maids because they were too wanton and bold.

Men should not be too modest, nor girls too forward.

GUDLO x.x.xVII. HOW LORD COVENTRY LEAPED THE GIPSY TENT. A TRUE STORY.

I d.i.c.ked Lord Coventry at the Worcester races. He kistured lester noko grai adree the steeple-chase for the ruppeny--kek,--a sonnakai tank I think it was,--but he nashered. It was dovo tano rye that yeck divvus in his noko park d.i.c.ked a Rommany chal's tan pash the rikk of a bor; and at yeck leap he kistered apre the bor, and jalled right atut an' parl the Rommany chal's tan. "Ha, kun's acai?" he sh.e.l.led, as he d.i.c.ked the tikno kaulos; "a Rommany chal's tan!" And from dovo divvus he mukked akovo Rom hatch his cammoben 'pre his puv. Tacho.

Ruzlo mus.h.i.+s has boro sees.

TRANSLATION.

I saw Lord Coventry at the Worcester races. He rode his own horse in the steeple-chase for the silver--no, it was a gold tankard, I think, but he lost.

It was that young gentleman who one day in his own park saw a Gipsy tent by the side of a hedge, and took a flying leap over tent, hedge, and all.

"Ha, what's here?" he cried, as he saw the little brown children; "a Gipsy's tent!" And from that day he let that Gipsy stay as much as he pleased on his land.

Bold men have generous hearts.

GUDLO x.x.xVIII. OF MR BARTLETT'S LEAP.

Dovo's sim to what they pens of Mr Bartlett in Glo'sters.h.i.+re, who had a fino tem pash Glo'ster an' Bristol, where he jivved adree a boro ker. Kek mush never d.i.c.ked so booti weshni juckalos or weshni kannis as yuv rikkered odoi. They prastered atut saw the drumyas sim as kanyas. Yeck divvus he was kisterin' on a kushto grai, an' he d.i.c.ked a Rommany chal rikkerin' a truss of gib-puss 'pre lester dumo pral a bitti drum, an'

kistered 'pre the pooro mush, puss an' sar. I jins that puro mush better 'n I jins tute, for I was a'ter yeck o' his raklis yeckorus; he had kushti-d.i.c.k raklis, an' he was old Knight Locke. "Puro," pens the rye, "did I kair you trash?" "I mang tute's shunaben, rya," pens Locke pauli; "I didn't jin tute sus wellin'!" So puro Locke hatched odoi 'pre dovo tem sar his miraben, an' that was a kushti covva for the puro Locke.

TRANSLATION.

That is like what is told of Mr Bartlett in Gloucesters.h.i.+re, who had a fine place near Gloucester and Bristol, where he lived in a great house.

No man ever saw so many foxes or pheasants as he kept there. They ran across all the paths like hens. One day he was riding on a fine horse, when he saw a Gipsy carrying a truss of wheat-straw on his back up a little path, and leaped over the poor man, straw and all. I knew that old man better than I know you, for I was after one of his daughters then; he had beautiful girls, and he was old Knight Locke. "Old fellow,"

said the gentleman, "did I frighten you?" "I beg your pardon, sir," said Locke after him; "I didn't know you were coming!" So old Locke stayed on that land all his life, and that was a good thing for old Locke.

GUDLO x.x.xIX. THE GIPSY, THE PIG, AND THE MUSTARD.

Yeckorus a Rommany chal jalled to a boro givescroker sa's the rye sus hawin'. And sikk's the Rom wan't a-d.i.c.kin', the rye all-sido pordered a kell-mallico pash kris, an' del it to the Rommany chal. An' sa's the kris dantered adree his gullo, he was pash ta.s.sered, an' the panni welled in his yakkas. Putched the rye, "Kun's tute ruvvin' ajaw for?" An' he rakkered pauli, "The kris lelled mandys bavol ajaw." Penned the rye, "I kaum the kris'll del tute kushti bak." "Parraco, rya," penned the Rom pauli; "I'll kommer it kairs dovo." Sikk's the rye b.i.t.c.hered his sherro, the Rommany chal loured the krissko-curro ma the ruppeny rooy, an' kek d.i.c.ked it. The waver divvus anpauli, dovo Rom jalled to the ryas baulo- tan, an' d.i.c.ked odoi a boro rikkeno baulo, an' gillied, "I'll d.i.c.k acai if I can kair tute ruv a bitti."

Now, rya, you must jin if you del a baulor kris adree a pabo, he can't sh.e.l.l avree or kair a gudlo for his miraben, an' you can rikker him bissin', or chiv him apre a wardo, an' jal andurer an' kek jin it. An'

dovo's what the Rommany chal kaired to the baulor, pash the sim kris; an'

as he bissered it avree an' pakkered it adree a gunno, he penned shukkar adree the baulor's kan, "Calico tute's rye hatched my bavol, an' the divvus I've hatched tute's; an' yeckorus your rye kaumed the kris would del mandy kushti bak, and kenna it _has_ del mengy kushtier bak than ever he jinned.

Ryes must be sig not to kair pya.s.s an' trickis atop o' choro mus.h.i.+s.

TRANSLATION.

Once a Gipsy went to a great farmhouse as the gentleman sat at table eating. And so soon as the Gipsy looked away, the gentleman very quietly filled a cheese-cake with mustard and gave it to the Gipsy. When the mustard bit in his throat, he was half choked, and the tears came into his eyes. The gentleman asked him, "What are you weeping for now?" And he replied, "The mustard took my breath away." The gentleman said, "I hope the mustard will give you good luck!" "Thank you, sir," answered the Gipsy; "I'll take care it does" (that). As soon as the gentleman turned his head, the Gipsy stole the mustard-pot with the silver spoon, and no one saw it. The next day after, that Gipsy went to the gentleman's pig-pen, and saw there a great fine-looking pig, and sang, "I'll see now if I can make _you_ weep a bit."

Now, sir, you must know that if you give a pig mustard in an apple, he can't cry out or squeal for his life, and you can carry him away, or throw him on a waggon, and get away, and n.o.body will know it. And that is what the Gipsy did to the pig, with the same mustard; and as he ran it away and put it in a bag, he whispered softly into the pig's ear, "Yesterday your master stopped my breath, and to-day I've stopped yours; and once your master hoped the mustard would give me good luck, and now it _has_ given me better luck than he ever imagined."

Gentlemen must be careful not to make sport of and play tricks on poor men.

GUDLO XL. EXPLAINING THE ORIGIN OF A CURRENT GIPSY PROVERB OR SAYING.

Trin or shtor beshes pauli kenna yeck o' the Petulengros d.i.c.ked a boro mullo baulor adree a bitti drum. An' sig as he latched it, some Rommany chals welled alay an' d.i.c.ked this here Rommany chal. So Petulengro he sh.e.l.led avree, "A fino baulor! saw tulloben! jal an the sala an' you shall have pash." And they welled apopli adree the sala and lelled pash sar tacho. And ever sense dovo divvus it's a rakkerben o' the Rommany chals, "Sar tulloben; jal an the sala an' tute shall lel your pash."

TRANSLATION.

Three or four years ago one of the Smiths found a great dead pig in a lane. And just as he found it, some Gipsies came by and saw this Rommany. So Smith bawled out to them, "A fine pig! all fat! come in the morning and you shall have half." And they returned in the morning and got half, all right. And ever since it has been a saying with the Gipsies, "It's _all fat_; come in the morning and get your half."

GUDLO XLI. THE GIPSY'S FISH-HOOK.

Yeckorus a rye pookered a Rommany chal he might jal matchyin' 'dree his panni, and he'd del lester the cammoben for trin mus.h.i.+, if he'd only matchy with a bongo sivv an' a punsy-ran. So the Rom jalled with India- drab kaired apre moro, an' he drabbered saw the matchas adree the panni, and rikkered avree his wardo sar pordo. A boro cheirus pauli dovo, the rye d.i.c.ked the Rommany chal, an' penned, "You choramengro, did tute lel the matchas avree my panni with a hook?" "Ayali, rya, with a hook,"

penned the Rom pale, werry sido. "And what kind of a hook?" "Rya,"

rakkered the Rom, "it was yeck o' the longi kind, what we pens in amandis jib a hookaben" (_i.e_., huckaben or hoc'aben).