trays, and who,
having some innate cleverness, do the best they can to live without
breaking the law--much. They deserve pity, for they have never been
cared for; they owe nothing to society for kindness, and yet they are
held even more strictly to account by the law than if they had been
regularly Sunday-schooled from babyhood. This man when he spoke of
Romanys did not mean real gypsies; he used the word as it occurs in
Ainsworth's song of

"Nix my dolly, pals fake away.
And here I am both tight and free,
A regular rollicking Romany."

For he meant _Bohemian_ in its widest and wildest sense, and to him all
that was apart from the world was _his_ world, whether it was Rom or
Yahudi, and whether it conversed in Romany or Schmussen, or any other
tongue unknown to the Gentiles. He had indeed no home, and had never
known one.

It was not difficult to perceive that the place to which he led me was
devoted in the off hours to some other business besides the selling of
liquor. It was neat and quiet, in fact rather sleepy; but its card,
which was handed to me, stated in a large capital head-line that it was
OPEN ALL NIGHT, and that there was pool at all hours. I conjectured that
a little game might also be performed there at all hours, and that, like
the fountain of Jupiter Ammon, it became livelier as it grew later, and
that it certainly would not be on the full boil before midnight.

"_Scheiker fur mich_, _der Isch will jain soreff shaskenen_" (Beer for me
and brandy for him), I said to the landlord, who at once shook my hand
and saluted me with _Sholem_! Even so did Ben Daoud of Jerusalem, not
long ago. Ben knew me not, and I was buying a pocket-book of him at his
open-air stand in Market Street, and talking German, while he was
endeavoring to convince me that I ought to give five cents more for it
than I had given for a similar case the day before, on the ground that it
was of a different color, or under color that the leather had a different
ground, I forget which. In talking I let fall the word _kesef_ (silver).
In an instant Ben had taken my hand, and said _Sholem aleichum_, and "Can
you talk Spanish?"--which was to show that he was superfine Sephardi, and
not common Ashkenaz.

"Yes," resumed the crocus-fakir; "a man must be able to talk English very
fluently, pronounce it correctly, and, above all things, keep his temper,
if he would do anything that requires chanting or pattering. _How did I