in the water one day the river suddenly
rose, the caravans were upset, and eleven were drowned, Comfort amongst
the number. So I christened baby after her in remembrance.' All the
family were neatly dressed, and once, when Annie opened the cupboard door
for an instant, we caught sight of a dish of small currant puddings."

A visit to a batch of Gipsy wigwams, Wardlow Street, Garrett Lane,
Wandsworth, induced me to send the following letter to the London and
country daily papers, and it appeared in the _Daily Chronicle_ and _Daily
News_, November 20th, as under:--"The following touching incident may
slightly show the thorough heartfelt desire there is--but lacking the
power--among the Gipsies to be partakers of some of the sanitary and
educational advantages the Gorgios or Gentiles are the recipients of. A
few days since I wended my way to a large number of Gipsies located in
tents, huts, and vans near Wandsworth Common, to behold the pitiable
spectacle of some sixty half-naked, poor Gipsy children, and thirty Gipsy
men and women, living in a state of indescribable ignorance, dirt, filth,
and misery, mostly squatting upon the ground, making their beds upon peg
shavings and straw, and divested of the last tinge of romantical
nonsense, which is little better in this case--used as a deal of it
is--than paper pasted upon the windows, to hide from public view the mass
of human corruption which has been festering in our midst for centuries,
breeding all kinds of sin and impurities, except in the eyes of those who
see beautiful colours and delights in the aroma of stagnant pools and
beauty in the sparkling hues of the gutter, and revel in adding tints and
pictures to the life and death of a weasel, lending enchantment to the
life of a vagabond, and admire the non-intellectual development of beings
many of whom are only one step from that of animals, if I may judge from
the amount of good the 20,000 Gipsies have accomplished in the world
during the last three or four centuries. Connected with this encampment
not more than four or five of the poor creatures could read a sentence or
write a letter. In creeping almost upon 'all-fours,' into one of the
tents, I came across a real, antiquated, live, good kind of Gipsy woman
named Britannia Lee, who boasted that she was a Lee of the fourth
generation; and in sitting down upon a seat that brought my knees upon a
level with my chin, I entered into conversation with the family about t