lirtations and
other dreadful doings in all little outings down to the present day, in
the drawing-room or "on the leads," world without end.

And as the boat went along by Weybridge we passed a bank by which was a
small gypsy camp; tents and wagons, donkeys and all, reflected in the
silent stream, as much as were the swans in the fore-water. And in the
camp was a tall, handsome, wild beauty, named Britannia, who knew me
well; a damsel fond of larking, with as much genuine devil's gunpowder in
her as would have made an entire pack or a Chinese hundred of sixty-four
of the small crackers known as fast girls, in or around society. She was
a splendid creature, long and lithe and lissom, but well rounded, of a
figure suggestive of leaping hedges; and as the sun shone on her white
teeth and burning black eyes, there was a hint of biting, too, about her.
She lay coiled and basking, in feline fashion, in the sun; but at sight
of me on the boat, up she bounded, and ran along the bank, easily keeping
up with the steamer, and crying out to me in Romanes.

Now it just so happened that I by no means felt certain that _all_ of the
company present were such genial Bohemians as to appreciate anything like
the joyous intimacy which Britannia was manifesting, as she,
Atalanta-like, coursed along. Consequently, I was not delighted with her
attentions.

"What a fine girl!" said Mr. Roebuck. "How well she would look on the
stage! She seems to know you."

"Certainly," said one of the ladies, "or she would not be speaking her
language. Why don't you answer her? Let us hear a conversation."

Thus adjured, I answered,--

"_Miri pen_, _miri kushti pen_, _beng lel tute_, _ma rakker sa drovan_!
_Or ma rakker Romaneskas_. _Man dikesa te rania shan akai_. _Miri
kameli_--_man kair __mandy ladge_!" (My sister, my nice, sweet
sister!--devil take you! don't hallo at me like that! Or else don't talk
Romany. Don't you see there are ladies here? My dear, don't put me to
shame!)

"_Pen the rani ta wusser mandy a trin-grushi_--_who_--_op_, _hallo_!"
(Tell the lady to shy me a shilling--whoop!) cried the fast damsel.

"_Pa miri duvels kam_, _pen_--_o bero se ta duro_. _Mandy'll de tute a
pash-korauna keratti if tu tevel ja_. _Gorgie shan i foki kavakoi_!"
(For the Lord's sake, sister!--the boat is too far from shore. I'll give
you half a crown this evening if you'll clear out. These be Gentiles,
these here.)

"It seems to be a mel