Gypsy Dictionary [61]
She stopped her knitting for a moment, and appeared to consider, and then resuming it, she said hesitatingly, "No, sir, no! None at all! That is, not exactly!"
"She is no true Gypsy, after all," said I to myself.
We went through a little garden to the door of the house, which stood ajar. She pushed it open, and looked in; then, turning round, she said: "She is not here, sir; but she is close at hand. Wait here till I go and fetch her." She went to a house a little farther up the hill, and I presently saw her returning with another female, of slighter build, lower in stature, and apparently much older. She came towards me with much smiling, smirking, and nodding, which I returned with as much smiling and nodding as if I had known her for threescore years. She motioned me with her hand to enter the house. I did so. The other woman returned down the hill, and the queen of the Gypsies entering, and shutting the door, confronted me on the floor, and said, in a rather musical, but slightly faltering voice:
"Now, sir, in what can I oblige you?"
Thereupon, letting the umbrella fall, which I invariably carry about with me in my journeyings, I flung my arms three times up into the air, and in an exceedingly disagreeable voice, owing to a cold which I had had for some time, and which I had caught amongst the lakes of Loughmaben, whilst hunting after Gypsies whom I could not find, I exclaimed:
"Sossi your nav? Pukker mande tute's nav! Shan tu a mumpli-mushi, or a tatchi Romany?"
Which, interpreted into Gorgio, runs thus:
"What is your name? Tell me your name! Are you a mumping woman, or a true Gypsy?"
The woman appeared frightened, and for some time said nothing, but only stared at me. At length, recovering herself, she exclaimed, in an angry tone, "Why do you talk to me in that manner, and in that gibberish? I don't understand a word of it."
"Gibberish!" said I; "it is no gibberish; it is Zingarrijib, Romany rokrapen, real Gypsy of the old order."
"Whatever it is," said the woman, "it's of no use speaking it to me. If you want to speak to me, you must speak English or Scotch."
"Why, they told me as how you were a Gypsy," said I.
"And they told you the truth," said the woman; "I am a Gypsy, and a real one; I am not ashamed of my blood."
"If yer were a Gyptian," said I, "yer would be able to speak Gyptian; but yer can't, not a word."
"At any rate," said the woman, "I can speak English, which is more than you can. Why, your way of speaking is that of the lowest vagrants of the roads."
"Oh, I have two or three ways of speaking English," said I; "and when I speaks to low wagram folks, I speaks in a low wagram manner."
"Not very civil," said the woman.
"A pretty Gypsy!" said I; "why, I'll be bound you don't know what a churi is!"
The woman gave me a sharp look; but made no reply.
"A pretty queen of the Gypsies!" said I; "why, she doesn't know the meaning of churi!"
"Doesn't she?" said the woman, evidently nettled; "doesn't she?"
"Why, do you mean to say that you know the meaning of churi?"
"Why, of course I do," said the woman.
"Hardly, my good lady," said I; "hardly; a churi to you is merely a churi."
"A churi is a knife," said the woman, in a tone of defiance; "a churi is a knife."
"Oh, it is," said I; "and yet you tried to persuade me that you had no peculiar language of your own, and only knew English and Scotch: churi is a word of the language in which I spoke to you at first, Zingarrijib, or Gypsy language; and since you know that word, I make no doubt that you know others, and in fact can speak Gypsy. Come; let us have a little confidential discourse together."
The woman stood for some time, as if in reflection, and at length said: "Sir, before having any particular discourse with you, I wish to put a few questions to you, in order to gather from your answers whether it is safe to talk to you on Gypsy matters. You pretend to understand the Gypsy language: if I find you do not, I will hold no further discourse with you; and the sooner