."

This I thought worthy of the five cents. Then my uncle began to put
questions in Romany.

"Where is Anselo W.? He that was _staruben_ for a _gry_?" (imprisoned
for a horse).

"_Staruben apopli_." (Imprisoned again.)

"I am sorry for it, sister Nell. He used to play the fiddle well. I wot
he was a canty chiel', and dearly lo'ed the whusky, oh!"

"Yes, he was too fond of that. How well he could play!"

"Yes," said my uncle, "he could. And I have sung to his fiddling when
the _tatto-pani_ [hot water, _i.e._, spirits] boiled within us, and made
us gay, oh, my golden sister! That's the way we Hungarian gypsy
gentlemen always call the ladies of our people. I sang in Romany."

"I'd like to hear you sing now," remarked a dark, handsome young man, who
had just made a mysterious appearance out of the surrounding shadows.

"It's a _kamaben gilli_" (a love-song), said the _rye_; "and it is
beautiful, deep old Romanes,--enough to make you cry."

There was the long sound of a violin, clear as the note of a horn. I had
not observed that the dark young man had found one to his hand, and, as
he accompanied, my uncle sang; and I give the lyric as he afterwards gave
it to me, both in Romany and English. As he frankly admitted, it was his
own composition.

KE TEINALI.

Tu shan miri pireni
Me kamava tute,
Kamlidiri, rinkeni,
Kames mande buti?

Sa o miro kushto gry
Taders miri wardi,--
Sa o boro buno rye
Rikkers lesto stardi.

Sa o bokro dre o char
Hawala adovo,--
Sa i choramengeri
Lels o ryas luvoo,--

Sa o sasto levinor
Kairs amandy matto,--
Sa o yag adre o tan
Kairs o geero tatto,--

Sa i puri Romni chai
Pens o kushto dukkrin,--
Sa i Gorgi dinneli,
Patsers lakis pukkrin,--

Tute taders tiro rom,
Sims o gry, o wardi,
Tute chores o zi adrom
Rikkers sa i stardi.

Tute haws te chores m'ri all,
Tutes dukkered buti
Tu shan miro jivaben
Me t'vel paller tute.

Paller tute sarasa
Pardel puv te pani,
Trinali--o krallisa!
Miri chovihani!

TO TRINALI.

Now thou art my darling girl,
And I love thee dearly;
Oh, beloved and my fair,
Lov'st thou me sincerely?

As my good old trusty horse
Draws his load or bears it;
As a gallant cavalier
Cocks his hat and wears it;