MR. PETULENGRO--ROMMANY RYE--LIL-WRITERS--ONE'S OWN HORN--LAWFULLY-EARNT
MONEY--THE WOODED HILL--A FAVOURITE--SHOP WINDOW--MUCH WANTED
And as I wandered along the green, I drew near to a place where several
men, with a cask beside them, sat carousing in the neighbourhood of a
small tent. 'Here he comes,' said one of them, as I advanced, and
standing up he raised his voice and sang:--
'Here the Gypsy gemman see,
With his Roman jib and his rome and dree--
Rome and dree, rum and dry
Rally round the Rommany Rye.'
It was Mr. Petulengro, who was here diverting himself with several of his
comrades; they all received me with considerable frankness. 'Sit down,
brother,' said Mr. Petulengro, 'and take a cup of good ale.'
I sat down. 'Your health, gentlemen,' said I, as I took the cup which
Mr. Petulengro handed to me.
'Aukko tu pios adrey Rommanis. Here is your health in Rommany, brother,'
said Mr. Petulengro; who, having refilled the cup, now emptied it at a
draught.
'Your health in Rommany, brother,' said Tawno Chikno, to whom the cup
came next.
'The Rommany Rye,' said a third.
'The Gypsy gentleman,' exclaimed a fourth, drinking.