If there be not descent,
there is affinity by marriage, familiarity, knowledge of words and ways,
sweethearting and trafficking, so that they know the children of the Rom
as the house-world does not know them, and they in some sort belong
together. It is a muddle, perhaps, and a puzzle; I doubt if anybody
quite understands it. No novelist, no writer whatever, has as yet
_clearly_ explained the curious fact that our entire nomadic population,
excepting tramps, is not, as we thought in our childhood, composed of
English people like ourselves. It is leavened with direct Indian blood;
it has, more or less modified, a peculiar _morale_. It was old before
the Saxon heptarchy.

I was very much impressed at this fair with the extensive and unsuspected
amount of Romany existent in our rural population. We had to be
satisfied, as we came late into the tavern for lunch, with cold boiled
beef and carrots, of which I did not complain, as cold carrots are much
nicer than warm, a fact too little understood in cookery. There were
many men in the common room, mostly well dressed, and decent even if
doubtful looking. I observed that several used Romany words in casual
conversation. I came to the conclusion at last that all who were present
knew something of it. The greatly reprobated Bowers was not himself a
gypsy, but he had a gypsy wife. He lived in a cottage not far from
Walton, and made baskets, while his wife roamed far and near, selling
them; and I have more than once stopped and sent for a pot of ale, and
shared it with Bill, listening meantime to his memories of the road as he
caned chairs or "basketed." I think his reputation came rather from a
certain Bohemian disregard of _convenances_ and of appearances than from
any deeply-seated sinfulness. For there are Bohemians even among
gypsies; everything in this life being relative and socially-contractive.
When I came to know the disreputable William well, I found in him the
principles of Panurge, deeply identified with the _morale_ of Falstaff; a
wondrous fund of unbundled humor, which expressed itself more by tones
than words; a wisdom based on the practices of the prize-ring; and a
perfectly sympathetic admiration of my researches into Romany. One day,
at Kingston Fair, as I wished to depart, I asked Bill the way to the
station. "I will go with you and show you," he said. But knowing that
he had business in the fair I declined his escort. He looked at me as if
hur