THE Gypsy has some queer, old-fashioned gold piece; this she takes to
some goldsmith’s shop, at the window of which she has observed a basin
full of old gold coins, and shows it to the goldsmith, asking him if he
will purchase it. He looks at it attentively, and sees that it is of
very pure gold; whereupon he says that he has no particular objection to
buy it; but that as it is very old it is not of much value, and that he
has several like it. “Have you indeed, Master?” says the Gypsy; “then
pray show them to me, and I will buy them; for, to tell you the truth, I
would rather buy than sell pieces like this, for I have a great respect
for them, and know their value: give me back my coin, and I will compare
any you have with it.” The goldsmith gives her back her coin, takes his
basin of gold from the window, and places it on the counter. The Gypsy
puts down her head, and pries into the basin. “Ah, I see nothing here
like my coin,” says she. “Now, Master, to oblige me, take out a handful
of the coins and lay them on the counter; I am a poor, honest woman,
Master, and do not wish to put my hand into your basin. Oh! if I could
find one coin like my own, I would give much money for it; _barributer_
than it is worth.” The goldsmith, to oblige the poor, simple, foreign
creature (for such he believes her to be), and, with a considerable hope
of profit, takes a handful of coins from the basin and puts them upon the
counter. “I fear there is none here like mine, Master,” says the Gypsy,
moving the coins rapidly with the tips of her fingers. “No, no, there is
not one here like mine—_kek yeck_, _kek yeck_—not one, not one. Stay,
stay! What’s this, what’s this? _So se cavo_, _so se cavo_? Oh, here
is one like mine; or if not quite like, like enough to suit me. Now,
Master, what will you take for this coin?” The goldsmith looks at it,
and names a price considerably above the value; whereupon she says: “Now,
Master, I will deal fairly with you: you have not asked me the full value
of the coin by three three-groats, three-groats, three-groats; by _trin
tringurushis_, _tringurushis_, _tringurushis_. So here’s the money you
asked, Master, and three three-groats, three shillings, besides. God
bless you, Master! You would have cheated yourself, but the poor woman
would not let you; for though she is poor she is honest”: and thus she
takes her leave, leaving the goldsmith very well satisfied with his
customer—with little reason, however, for out of about twenty coins which
he laid on the counter she had filched at least three, which her brown
nimble fingers, though they seemingly scarcely touched the gold,
contrived to convey up her sleeves. This kind of pilfering is called by
the English Gypsies _cauring_, and by the Spanish _ustilar pastesas_, or
stealing with the fingers. The word _caur_ seems to be connected with
the English _cower_, and the Hebrew _kãra_, a word of frequent occurrence
in the historical part of the Old Testament, and signifying to bend,
stoop down, _incurvare_.