y. "Come, don't be ashamed; I have
occasionally kept queerish company myself."

"The people whom we call gypsies," said I; "whom the Germans call
Zigeuner, and who call themselves Romany chals."

"Zigeuner!" said the Hungarian; "by Isten! I do know those people."

"Romany chals!" said the jockey; "whew! I begin to smell a rat."

"What do you mean by smelling a rat?" said I.

"I'll bet a crown," said the jockey, "that you be the young chap what
certain folks call 'the Romany Rye.'"

"Ah!" said I, "how came you to know that name?"

"Be not you he?" said the jockey.

"Why, I certainly have been called by that name."

"I could have sworn it," said the jockey; then rising from his chair, he
laid his pipe on the table, took a large hand-bell which stood on the
side-board, and going to the door, opened it, and commenced ringing in a
most tremendous manner on the staircase. The noise presently brought up
a waiter, to whom the jockey vociferated, "Go to your master, and tell
him to send immediately three bottles of champagne, of the pink kind,
mind you, which is twelve guineas a dozen;" the waiter hurried away, and
the jockey resumed his seat and his pipe. I sat in silent astonishment
until the waiter returned with a basket containing the wine, which, with
three long glasses, he placed on the table. The jockey then got up, and
going to a large bow-window at the end of the room, which looked into a
court-yard, peeped out; then saying, "the coast is clear," he shut down
the principal sash which was open for the sake of the air, and taking up
a bottle of champagne, he placed another in the hands of the Hungarian,
to whom he said something in private. The latter, who seemed to
understand him, answered by a nod. The two then going to the end of the
table fronting the window, and about eight paces from it, stood before
it, holding the bottles by their necks; suddenly the jockey lifted up his
arm. "Surely," said I, "you are not mad enough to fling that bottle
through the window?" "Here's to the Romany Rye; here's to the sweet
master," said the jockey, dashing the bottle through the pane in so neat
a manner that scarcely a particle of glass fell into the room.

"Eljen edes csigany ur--eljen gul eray!" said the Hungarian, swinging
round his bottle, and discharging it at the window; but, either not
possessing the jockey's accuracy of aim, or reckless of the consequences,
he flung his bottle so, that it struck against p