ment in the newspapers or on the sidewalk, which shows
that there is one law for the rich and another for the poor, even in a
republic.

III. GYPSIES IN CAMP. (NEW JERSEY.)

The Weather had put on his very worst clothes, and was never so hard at
work for the agricultural interests, or so little inclined to see
visitors, as on the Sunday afternoon when I started gypsying. The rain
and the wind were fighting one with another, and both with the mud, even
as the Jews in Jerusalem fought with themselves, and both with the
Romans,--which was the time when the _Shaket_, or butcher, killed the ox
who drank the water which quenched the fire which the reader has often
heard all about, yet not knowing, perhaps, that the house which Jack
built was the Holy Temple of Jerusalem. It was with such reflections
that I beguiled time on a long walk, for which I was not unfitly equipped
in corduroy trousers, with a long Ulster and a most disreputable cap
befitting a stable-boy. The rig, however, kept out the wet, and I was
too recently from England to care much that it was raining. I had seen
the sun on color about thirty times altogether during the past year, and
so had not as yet learned to miss him. It is on record that when the
Shah was in England a lady said to him, "Can it be possible, your
highness, that there are in your dominions people who worship the sun?"
"Yes," replied the monarch, musingly; "and so would you, if you could
only see him."

The houses became fewer as I went on, till at last I reached the place
near which I knew the gypsies must be camped. As is their custom in
England, they had so established themselves as not to be seen from the
road. The instinct which they display in thus getting near people, and
yet keeping out of their sight, even as rats do, is remarkable. I
thought I knew the town of Brighton, in England, thoroughly, and had
explored all its nooks, and wondered that I had never found any gypsies
there. One day I went out with a Romany acquaintance, who, in a short
time, took me to half a dozen tenting-places, round corners in mysterious
by-ways. It often happens that the spots which they select to _hatch the
tan_, or pitch the tent, are picturesque bits, such as artists love, and
all gypsies are fully appreciative of beauty in this respect. It is not
a week, as I write, since I heard an old horse-dealing veteran of the
roads apologize to me with real feeling for the want of a view nea