fire every Great Day. For the Saviour was born in the open field like a
Gipsy, and rode on an ass like one, and went round the land a begging his
bread like a Rom. And he was always a poor wretched man like us, till he
was destroyed by the Gentiles.

"And He rode on an ass? Yes. Once he asked the mule if he might ride
her, but she told him no. So because the mule would not carry him, she
was cursed never to be a mother or have children. So she never had any,
nor any cross either.

"Then he asked the ass to carry him, and she said 'Yes;' so he put a
cross upon her back. And to this day the ass has a cross and bears
young, but the mule has none. So the asses belong to (are peculiar to)
the Gipsies."

There was a pause, when I remarked--

"That is a _fino gudlo_--a fine story; and all of it about an ash tree.
Can you tell me anything about the _surrelo rukk_--the strong tree--the
oak?"

"Only what I've often heard our people say about its life."

"And what is that?"

"Dui hundred besh a hatchin, dui hundred besh nasherin his chuckko, dui
hundred besh 'pre he mullers, and then he nashers sar his ratt and he's
kekoomi kushto." {30}

"That is good, too. There are a great many men who would like to live as