CHAPTER XV.

THE GYPSIES AND THE FAIRIES.

WE could hardly leave Spain without becoming acquainted a little with the gypsies, which abound there. These people are scattered all over Europe; but there are more of them in the southern part of Spain than anywhere else. Gypsies are the most singular people we know of. It is thought they came originally from Hindostan, and were a people of India, as they resemble them in many respects; and there are tribes of them there as well as elsewhere.

There are so many of them in Europe, — several hundred thousand, and they keep so entirely apart, never mingling or intermarrying with others, that they are almost a nation by themselves. They

will scarcely live in houses, or even in tents, but in caves, and in huts built below ground. Their dark rooms are weird-looking places, with a blazing fire, perhaps, in the centre, and a kettle hung over it; and the women with short gowns and red kerchiefs. They will not be educated, because they prefer a wandering, roving life, and do not seem to be able to conduct as other people do. They are great fortune-tellers, as we all know; and they like to dance in the open air, and to play on instruments, and sing. They have bright black eyes, an olive complexion, white teeth; and, when young, they are often quite handsome and attractive.

Gypsies trade a great deal in donkeys and horses. The man who stole Sancho Panza's ass, Dapple (for, although the story of Don Quixote be fictitious, it describes little incidents exactly to the life), disguised himself as a gypsy, knowing their language well, and tried to sell the animal. Then it was that Sancho Panza accidentally discovered him; and, when he claimed his old donkey, the "gypsy " man started on a sudden, and disappeared from sight,

leaving poor Dapple in the hands of his loving master again, who had sorrowfully missed him.

*

The following amusing sketch of a traveller in Spain gives us a little insight into the character of the gypsies, and the curious sort of witchcraft which they seem to possess. The "Calo," of course, is the gypsy dialect. One man is recounting his experience to another, and he says,

"The insolence of these gypsies is no longer to be borne. When I am at Merida or Badajoz, I go to the market; and there, in a corner, stand the gypsies, jabbering to each other in a speech which I understand not. 'Gypsy gentleman,' say I to one of them, 'what will you have for that donkey?' 'I will have ten dollars for it, cabellero nacional,' † says the gypsy it is the best donkey in all Spain.'

I should like to see its paces,' say I. 'That you shall, most valorous!' says the gypsy; and, jumping upon its back, he puts it to its paces, first of all whispering something into its ear in Calo;

*Mr. George Barrow.

†This might be translated, "Citizen gentleman."

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and truly the paces of the donkey are most wonderful, such as I have never seen before. 'I think it will just suit me;' and, after looking at it a while, I take out the money, and pay for it. 'I shall go to my house,' says the gypsy; and off he runs. "I shall go to my village,' say I; and I mount the donkey. 'Come, get up!' say I; but the donkey won't move. I give him a switch; but I don't get on the better for that. How is this?' say I; and I fall to spurring him. "What happens then, brother?' The wizard no sooner feels the prick, than he bucks down, and flings me over his head into the mud. I get up, and look about me: there stands the donkey, staring at me; and there stands the whole gypsy crew, squinting at me. • Where is scamp who has sold me this piece of furniture?' I shout. He is gone to Granada, valorous,' says one. 'He is gone to see his kindred among the Moors,' says another. I just saw him running over the field in the direction of'

the

says a third. In a word, I am tricked. I wish to dispose of the donkey: no one, however, will buy him: he is a Calo

donkey, and every person avoids him. At last, the gypsies offer thirty reals for him; and, after much chaffering, I am glad to get rid of him at two dollars. It is a trick, however: he returns to his master, and the brotherhood share the spoil amongst them. All which villany would be prevented, in my opinion, were the Calo language not spoken; for what but the word of Calo could have induced the donkey to behave in such an unaccountable manner??

Gypsies, it is true, seem to have a sort of magic or witchery about them, much like that which we attribute to fairies. That is not the reason, however, for which we placed the title, "The Gypsies and the Fairies," at the head of the chapter, as our fairies had nothing whatever to do with these strange beings. It was only meant to be expressed by that title, that now, after our long, far-away rambles, we are coming back to our fairies in the garden, to stop and refresh ourselves a little with them, before taking a new leave on another far-off expedition. Glad were they too, we may believe, to nestle down among their flowers and vines and sheltering hedges,