t appeared to me that a voice cried in my ear, "Danger! danger!
danger!" Nothing seemingly could be more distinct than the words which I
heard; then an uneasy sensation came over me, which I strove to get rid
of, and at last succeeded, for I awoke. The gypsy girl was standing just
opposite to me, with her eyes fixed upon my countenance; a singular kind
of little dog stood beside her.

"Ha!" said I, "was it you that cried danger? What danger is there?"

"Danger, brother, there is no danger; what danger should there be? I
called to my little dog, but that was in the wood; my little dog's name
is not danger, but stranger; what danger should there be, brother?"

"What, indeed, except in sleeping beneath a tree; what is that you have
got in your hand?"

"Something for you," said the girl, sitting down and proceeding to untie
a white napkin; "a pretty manricli, so sweet, so nice; when I went home
to my people I told my grandbebee how kind you had been to the poor
person's child, and when my grandbebee saw the kekaubi, she said, 'Hir mi
devlis, it won't do for the poor people to be ungrateful; by my God, I
will bake a cake for the young harko mescro.'"

"But there are two cakes."

"Yes, brother, two cakes, both for you; my grandbebee meant them both for
you--but list, brother, I will have one of them for bringing them. I
know you will give me one, pretty brother, grey-haired brother--which
shall I have, brother?"

In the napkin were two round cakes, seemingly made of rich and costly
compounds, and precisely similar in form, each weighing about half a
pound.

"Which shall I have, brother?" said the gypsy girl.

"Whichever you please."

"No, brother, no, the cakes are yours, not mine, it is for you to say."

"Well, then, give me the one nearest you, and take the other."

"Yes, brother, yes," said the girl; and taking the cakes, she flung them
into the air two or three times, catching them as they fell, and singing
the while. "Pretty brother, grey-haired brother--here, brother," said
she, "here is your cake, this other is mine."

"Are you sure," said I, taking the cake, "that this is the one I chose?"

"Quite sure, brother; but if you like you can have mine; there's no
difference, however--shall I eat?"

"Yes, sister, eat."

"See, brother, I do; now, brother, eat, pretty brother, grey-haired
brother."

"I am not hungry."

"Not hungry! well, what then--what has being hungry to do with the
matter? It i