In which the reader is introduced to several new acquaintances, and
all connected with them, except birth and parentage, which appears
to be the one thing wanting throughout the whole of this work.


By this time we had arrived at the lime-kiln to which we had been
directed, and we sat down on our bundles, chatting for about five
minutes, when our new acquaintance made his appearance, with something
in his hand, tied up in a handkerchief.

"You may as well put your coats into your bundles, and put on these
frocks," said he, "you will appear better among us, and be better
received, for there is a _gathering_ now, and some of them are queer
customers. However, you have nothing to fear; when once you are with my
wife and me, you are quite safe; her little finger would protect you
from five hundred."

"Your wife! who, then, is she?" inquired I, as I put my head through the
smock frock.

"She is a great personage among the gipsies. She is, by descent, one of
the heads of the tribe, and none dare to disobey her."

"And you--are you a gipsy?"

"No, and yes. By birth I am not, but by choice, and marriage, I am
admitted; but I was not born under a hedge, I can assure you, although I
very often pass a night there now--that is, when I am domestic; but do
not think that you are to remain long here; we shall leave in a few