[22] Greenwich.[27a] Cf. French chaperon.[27b] The Gentile’s coming.[27c] Gypsy fellows.[33] Hearken, thimbla,
Comes a Gentile.[35a] A meaningless verse.[35b] Rather, Okki tiro piomus.[36] Books.[37] TÁtchi rÓmadi.[38] Great City.[39a] Meant for “ghost,” but not real Anglo-Romany.[39b] Jerry Abershaw (c. 1773-95), a highwayman who haunted Wimbledon Common, and was hanged on Kennington Common for shooting a constable.[43a] Thomas Blood (c. 1618-80). See T. Seccombe’s Lives of Twelve Bad Men (1894).[43b] In December 1670.[63] ?Amesbury.[65] The Avon.[72a] The so-called (by Stukeley) “Vespasian’s Ramparts.”[72b] Salisbury.[87] This practice is not so uncommon. Dr. Johnson had a very similar habit in his “sort of magical movement” (Life by Boswell, end of year 1764); and a member of my own college at Oxford, nearly thirty years ago, touched just like the man in Lavengro. Once in the Schools he remembered he had passed by a pebble which he had noticed in the High Street: he tore up his papers, and went and picked up the pebble.[88] Mr. William Bodham Donne, the examiner of plays 1857-74, was told by Borrow himself that this “Man who Touched” was drawn from the author of Vathek, William Beckford (1760-1844). There are difficulties in the way of accepting this statement, among them that Beckford had quitted Fonthill for Bath in 1822, three years before Borrow went a-gypsying. Still, I believe there is something in it.[114] A thing done oftener in books than in reality.[121] Richard Hurrell Froude in a letter of 1831 brands Dissenters as “the promoters of damnable heresy.”[139] A branch of the great Gypsy family of Boswell have contracted the surname to Boss.[142] At Tamworth in May 1812 (Knapp, i. 105).[156] The Gypsy lass
And the Gypsy lad
Shall go to-morrow
To poison the pig
And bewitch the horse
Of the farmer gentleman.[160] The Gypsy lass
And the Gypsy lad
Love stealing
And fortune-telling,
And lying,
And every -pen
But goodness
And truth.[161] Dog. Better, jÚkel.[165a] By my God; not Anglo-Romany.[165b] Coppersmith.[167] Grand-aunt’s.[168] Cake.[169] Rod.[170] Aunt.[174a] Poisoned.[174b] Fortune-telling spirit. I never met the English Gypsy that used dook.[177] Gentile’s coming.[188] In my Gypsy Folk-Tales (1899, pp. 293-95) I have discussed with some fulness Bunyan’s possible Gypsy ancestry. The most interesting point is that in 1586 at Launceston a child was baptized “Nicholas, sonne of James Bownian, an Egiptian rogue.”[201] Ellis Wynn (c. 1671-1741). Borrow himself at last printed his translation of The Sleeping Bard at Yarmouth in 1860, and himself next year reviewed it in the Quarterly.[238] Rhys Prichard (1579-1644).[246] Hat of beaver.[247] Good day, brother.[249a] Seems meant for “hang-woman,” but there is no such word.[249b] Gipsy-wise—an odd form.[250a] Good old blood. Should be rat, not rati.[250b] Horse.[251] Brother, comrade.[252a] Aunt.[252b] Poisoning pigs.[253a] Poisons; not Anglo-Romany.[253b] Better, nÁshado, hanged.[254a] Magistrate.[254b] Runner, detective.[255a] Woman. Rightly jÚvel.[255b] No such word.[256] Seemingly “gallows,” but no such word.[257a] Gypsy chap.[257b] Engro is a mere termination, like -er in runner.[259] Fool.[260] Fists. Prizefighters’ slang.[263] Blacksmith.[264a] Tell fortunes.

[264b] Hill Town, Norwich, but better, ChÚmba Gav.[264c] “Go with God.” Not English Romany.[267] Horse-shoe.[268a] Better, yÓgesko chivs.[268b] Probably “brother,” but not English Romany.[268c] Unknown to English Gypsies.[268d] Beating.[268e] Questionable.[269] Destiny.[270a] Knife.[270b] Foot. Not English Romany.[270c] Nail, questionable.[280] Horse.[283] Son; better, chÁvo.[285] As I was going to the town one day
I met on the road my Gypsy lass.[287] In again.[293] Woman, thieves’ cant.[294a] Ghost.[294b] Knive, thieves’ cant.[294c] MÓila, donkey.[324a] Gentile listening.[324b] Yonder there.[330] Mumper, sling for “vagabond.”[347] Cardinal Giuseppe Mezzofanti (1774-1849), who could speak fifty-eight languages.[437] Did ever any other book break off like this one? And The Romany Rye opens calmly with: “I awoke at the first break of day, and, leaving the postillion fast asleep, stepped out of the tent.”