'

'We'll see, brother; what's the cuckoo?'

'What is it? you know as much about it as myself, Jasper.'

'Isn't it a kind of roguish, chaffing bird, brother?'

'I believe it is, Jasper.'

'Nobody knows whence it comes, brother?'

'I believe not, Jasper.'

'Very poor, brother, not a nest of its own?'

'So they say, Jasper.'

'With every person's bad word, brother?'

'Yes, Jasper, every person is mocking it.'

'Tolerably merry, brother?'

'Yes, tolerably merry, Jasper.'

'Of no use at all, brother?'

'None whatever, Jasper.'

'You would be glad to get rid of the cuckoos, brother?'

'Why, not exactly, Jasper; the cuckoo is a pleasant, funny bird, and its
presence and voice give a great charm to the green trees and fields; no,
I can't say I wish exactly to get rid of the cuckoo.'

'Well, brother, what's a Romany chal?'

'You must answer that question yourself, Jasper.'

'A roguish, chaffing fellow, a'n't he, brother?'

'Ay, ay, Jasper.'

'Of no use at all, brother?'

'Just so, Jasper; I see--'

'Something very much like a cuckoo, brother?'

'I see what you are after, Jasper.'

'You would like to get rid of us, wouldn't you?'

'Why, no, not exactly.'

'We are no ornament to the green lanes in spring and summer time, are we,
brother? and the voices of our chies with their cukkerin {59a} and
dukkerin {59b} don't help to make them pleasant?'

'I see what you are at, Jasper.'

'You would wish to turn the cuckoos into barn-door fowls, wouldn't you?'

'Can't say I should, Jasper, whatever some people might wish.'

'And the chals and chies into radical weavers and factory wenches, hey,
brother?'

'Can't say that I should, Jasper. You are certainly a picturesque
people, and in many respects an ornament both to town and country;
painting and lil writing {59c} too, are under great obligations to you.
What pretty pictures are made out of your campings and groupings, and
what pretty books have been written in which gypsies, or at least
creatures intended to represent gypsies, have been the principal figures.
I think if we were without you, we should begin to miss you.'

'Just as you would the cuckoos, if they were all converted into barn-door
fowls. I tell you what, brother, frequently as I have sat under a hedge
in spring or summer time and heard the cuckoo, I have thought that we
chals and cuckoos are alike in many respects, but especially in
character. Everybody speaks ill of us both, an