our chies, with their cukkerin and dukkerin,
don't help to make them pleasant?'

'I see what you are at, Jasper.'

'You would wish to turn the cuckoos into barn-door fowls, wouldn't you?'

'Can't say I should, Jasper, whatever some people might wish.'

'And the chals and chies into radical weavers and factory wenches; hey,
brother?'

'Can't say that I should, Jasper. You are certainly a picturesque
people, and in many respects an ornament both to town and country;
painting and lil writing too are under great obligations to you. What
pretty pictures are made out of your campings and groupings, and what
pretty books have been written in which gypsies, or at least creatures
intended to represent gypsies, have been the principal figures. I think
if we were without you, we should begin to miss you.'

'Just as you would the cuckoos, if they were all converted into barn-door
fowls. I tell you what, brother; frequently, as I have sat under a hedge
in spring or summer time, and heard the cuckoo, I have thought that we
chals and cuckoos are alike in many respects, but especially in
character. Everybody speaks ill of us both, and everybody is glad to see
both of us again.'

* * * * *

'People are becoming vastly sharp,' said Mr. Petulengro; 'and I am told
that all the old-fashioned good-tempered constables are going to be set
aside, and a paid body of men to be established, who are not to permit a
tramper or vagabond on the roads of England; and talking of roads, puts
me in mind of a strange story I heard two nights ago, whilst drinking
some beer at a public-house, in company with my cousin Sylvester. I had
asked Tawno to go, but his wife would not let him. Just opposite me,
smoking their pipes, were a couple of men, something like engineers, and
they were talking of a wonderful invention which was to make a wonderful
alteration in England; inasmuch as it would set aside all the old roads,
which in a little time would be ploughed up, and sowed with corn, and
cause all England to be laid down with iron roads, on which people would
go thundering along in vehicles, pushed forward by fire and smoke. Now,
brother, when I heard this, I did not feel very comfortable; for I
thought to myself, what a queer place such a road would be to pitch one's
tent upon, and how impossible it would be for one's cattle to find a bite
of grass upon it; and I thought likewise of the danger to which one's
family would be exposed of being r