more than forty
years ago, I remember most vividly that the popular song of the
_employes_ of that day was

"When lads and lasses in their best
Were dress'd from top to toe,
In the days we went a-gipsying
A long time ago;
In the days we went a-gipsying,
A long time ago."

Every "brick-yard lad" and "brick-yard wench" who would not join in
singing these lines was always looked upon as a "stupid donkey," and the
consequence was that upon all occasions, when excitement was needed as a
whip, they were "struck up;" especially would it be the case when the
limbs of the little brick and clay carrier began to totter and were
"fagging up." When the task-master perceived the "gang" had begun to
"slinker" he would shout out at the top of his voice, "Now, lads and
wenches, strike up with the:

"'In the days we went a-gipsying, a long time ago.'"

And as a result more work was ground out of the little English slave.
Those words made such an impression upon me at the time that I used to
wonder what "gipsying" meant. Somehow or other I imagined that it was
connected with fortune-telling, thieving and stealing in one form or
other, especially as the lads used to sing it with "gusto" when they had
been robbing the potato field to have "a potato fuddle," while they were
"oven tenting" in the night time. Roasted potatoes and cold turnips were
always looked upon as a treat for the "brickies." I have often vowed and
said many times that I would, if spared, try to find out what "gipsying"
really was. It was a puzzle I was always anxious to solve. Many times I
have been like the horse that shies at them as they camp in the ditch
bank, half frightened out of my wits, and felt anxious to know either
more or less of them. From the days when carrying clay and loading
canal-boats was my toil and "gipsying" my song, scarcely a week has
passed without the words

"When lads and lasses in their best
Were dress'd from top to toe,
In the days we went a-gipsying
A long time ago,"

ringing in my ears, and at times when busily engaged upon other things,
"In the days we went a-gipsying" would be running through my mind. In
meditation and solitude; by night and by day; at the top of the hill, and
down deep in the dale; in the throng and battle of life; at the deathbed
scene; through evil report and good report these words, "In the days we
went a-gipsying," were ever and anon at my tongue's e