ch was specially gratifying to gypsies, and the
account thereof soon spread far and wide over the roads as a beautiful
deed.

The fraternity of the roads is a strange thing. Once when I lived at
Walton there was an old gypsy woman named Lizzie Buckland who often
camped near us. A good and winsome young lady named Lillie Doering had
taken a liking to the old lady, and sent her a nice Christmas present of
clothing, tea, &c., which was sent to me to give to the Egyptian mother.
But when I went to seek her, she had flown over the hills and far away.
It made no difference. I walked on till I met a perfect stranger to me,
a woman, but "evidently a traveller." "Where is old Liz?" I asked.
"Somewhere about four miles beyond Moulsey." "I've got a present for
her; are you going that way?" "Not exactly, but I'll take it to her; a
few miles don't signify." I learned that it had gone from hand to hand
and been safely delivered. It seems a strange way to deliver valuables,
to walk forth and give them to the first tramp whom you meet; but I knew
my people.

I may here say that during this and the previous winter I had practised
wood-carving. In which, as in studying Gypsy, I had certain ultimate
aims, which were fully developed in later years. I have several times
observed in this record that when I get an idea I cherish it, think it
over, and work it up. Out of this wood-carving and _repousse_ and the
designing which it involved I in time developed ideas which led to what I
may fairly call a great result.

We remained at Brighton until February, when we went to London and stayed
at the Langham Hotel. Then began the London life of visits, dinners, and
for me, as usual, of literary work. In those days I began to meet and
know Professor E. H. Palmer, Walter Besant, Walter H. Pollock, and many
other men of the time of whom I shall anon have more to say. I arranged
with Mr. Trubner as to the publication of "The English Gypsies." I think
it was at this time that I dined one evening at Sir Charles Dilke's,
where a droll incident took place. There was present a small Frenchman,
to whom I had not been introduced, and whose name therefore I did not
know. After dinner in the smoking-room I turned over with this gentleman
a very curious collection of the works of Blake, which were new to him.
Finding that he evidently knew something about art, I explained to him
that Blake was a very strange visionary--that he believed that th