About mid-day Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro came to the dingle to pay the
promised visit. Belle, at the time of their arrival, was in her tent,
but I was at the fire-place, engaged in hammering part of the outer-tire,
or defence, which had come off from one of the wheels of my vehicle. On
perceiving them I forthwith went to receive them. Mr. Petulengro was
dressed in Roman fashion, with a somewhat smartly-cut sporting-coat, the
buttons of which were half-crowns--and a waistcoat, scarlet and black,
the buttons of which were spaded half-guineas; his breeches were of a
stuff half velveteen, half corduroy, the cords exceedingly broad. He had
leggings of buff cloth, furred at the bottom; and upon his feet were
highlows. Under his left arm was a long black whalebone riding-whip,
with a red lash, and an immense silver knob. Upon his head was a hat
with a high peak, somewhat of the kind which the Spaniards call _calane_,
so much in favour with the bravos of Seville and Madrid. Now, when I
have added that Mr. Petulengro had on a very fine white holland shirt, I
think I have described his array. Mrs. Petulengro--I beg pardon for not
having spoken of her first--was also arrayed very much in the Roman
fashion. Her hair, which was exceedingly black and lustrous, fell in
braids on either side of her head. In her ears were rings, with long
drops of gold. Round her neck was a string of what seemed very much like
very large pearls, somewhat tarnished, however, and apparently of
considerable antiquity. "Here we are, brother," said Mr. Petulengro;
"here we are, come to see you--wizard and witch, witch and wizard:--

"'There's a chovahanee, and a chovahano,
The nav se len is Petulengro.'"

"Hold your tongue, sir," said Mrs. Petulengro; "you make me ashamed of
you with your vulgar ditties. We are come a visiting now, and everything
low should be left behind."

"True," said Mr. Petulengro; "why bring what's low to the dingle, which
is low enough already?"

"What, are you a catcher at words?" said I. "I thought that catching at
words had been confined to the pothouse farmers and village witty
bodies."

"All fools," said Mrs. Petulengro, "catch at words, and very naturally,
as by so doing they hope to prevent the possibility of rational
conversation. Catching at words confined to pothouse farmers, and
village witty bodies! No, not to Jasper Petulengro. Listen for an hour
or two to the discourse of a set they call news