GORGIO, KALO-MANUSH, TE ROM.
Yeckorus pā ankairoben, kon i manūshia nanei lavia, o boro Dúvel jas pirián. Sā sī asar? Shūn miri chavi, me givellis tute:—
Būti beshia kedivrus kennā
Adré o tem ankairoben,
O boro Dúvel jās ’vrī ajā,
Ta dikk i mushia miraben.
Sa yuv pirridas, dikkdas trin mūshia pāsh o dromescro rikk, hatchin keti chomano mūsh te vel dé lendis navia, te len putcherde o boro Dúvel ta navver lende. Dordi, o yeckto mush sos pāno, te o boro Dúvel pūkkerdas kavodoi, “Gorgio.” Te yuv sikkerdas leste kokero keti dovo, te sūderdas leste būti kāmeli sā jewries, te rinkeni rūdaben, te jās gorgeous. Te o wavescro geero sos kālo sā skunya, te o boro Dúvel pendas, “Nigger!” te yuv nikkeredas adrom, sā sūjery te mūzhili, te yuv se nikkerin sarjā keti kenna, adré o kamescro dūd, te yuv’s kālo-kālo ta kair būtsi, naneí tu serbers leste keti lis, te tazzers lis. Te o trinto mush sos brauuo, te yuv beshdas pūkeno, tūvin leste’s swägler, keti o boro Dúvel rākkerdas, “Rom!” te adenna o mūsh hatchedas apré, te pendas būti kāmelo, “Parraco Rya tiro kūshtaben; me te vel mishto piav tiro sastopen!” Te jās romeli a roamin langs i lescro romni, te kekker dukkerdas lester kokerus, né kesserdas pa chichi fon adennadoi keti kennā, te jās adral o sweti, te kekker hatchedas pūkenus, te nanei hudder ta kéravit ket’ o boro Dúvel penell’ o lav. Tacho adovo se sā tiri yakka, miri kāmli.
GORGIO, [319a] BLACK MAN, AND GYPSY.
Once in the creation, when men had no names, the Lord went walking. How was that? Listen, my child, I will sing it to you:—
Many a year has passed away
Since the world was first begun,
That the great Lord went out one day
To see how men’s lives went on.
As he walked along he saw three men by the roadside, waiting till some man would give them names; and they asked the Lord to name them. See! the first man was white, and the Lord called him Gorgio. Then he adapted himself to that name, and adorned himself with jewelry and fine clothes, and went gorgeous. And the other man was black and the Lord called him Nigger, and he lounged away [nikker, to lounge, loiter; an attempted pun], so idle and foul; and he is always lounging till now in the sunshine, and he is too lazy [kalo-kalo, black-black, or lazy-lazy, that is, too black or too lazy] to work unless you compel and punish him. And the third man was brown, and he sat quiet, smoking his pipe, till the Lord said, Rom! [gypsy, or “roam”]; and then that man arose and said, very politely, “Thank you, Lord, for your kindness. I’d be glad to drink your health.” And he went, Romany fashion, a-roaming [319b] with his romni [wife], and never troubled himself about anything from that time till to-day, and went through the world, and never rested and never wished
to until the Lord speaks the word. That is all as true as your eyes, my dear!
YAG-BAR TE SASTER.
SĀ O KAM SOS ANKERDO.
“Pen mandy a waver gudlo trustal o ankairoben!”
Né shomas adoi, awer shūndom būti apā lis fon miro bābus. Foki pende mengy sā o chollo-tem [320] sos kérdo fon o kam, awer i Romany chalia savo keren sār chingernes, pen o kam sos kérdo fon o boro tem. Wafedo gry se adovo te nestis ja sigan te anpāli o kūshto drom. Yeckorus ’dré o pūro chirus, te kennā, sos a bori pūreni chovihāni te kérdas sīrīni covvas, te jivdas sār akonyo adré o heb adré o rātti. Yeck dívvus yoi latchedas yag-bar adré o puv, te tilldas es apré te pūkkeredas lestes nav pāle, “Yāg-bar.” Te pāsh a bittus yoi latchedas a bitto kūshto-saster, te haderdas lis apré te putchedas lestis nav, te lis rakkerdas apopli, “Saster.” Chivdási dui ’dré lākis pūtsī, te pendas Yāg-bar, “Tu sosti rummer o rye, Saster!” Te yan kérdavit, awer yeck dívvus i dui ankairede ta chinger, te Saster dés lestis jūva Yag-bar a tatto-yek adré o yakk, te kairedas i chingari ta mūkker avri, te hotcher i pūri jūva’s pūtsī. Sā yoi wūsserdas hotcherni putsī adré o hev, te pendas lis ta kessur adrom keti avenna o mūsh sāri jūva kun kekker chingerd chichi. I chingari shan staria, te dovo yāg sē o kam, te lis nanei jillo avrī keti kennā, te lis tevel hotcher andūro būti beshia pā sār jinova mé keti chingerben. Tacho sī? Né shomas adoi.
FLINT AND STEEL.
OR HOW THE SUN WAS CREATED.
“Tell me another story about the creation!”
I was not there at the time, but I heard a great deal about it from my grandfather. All he did there was to turn the wheel. People tell me that the world was made from the sun, but gypsies, who do everything all contrary, say that the sun was made from the earth. A bad horse is that which will not travel either way on a road. Once in the old time, as [there may be] now, was a great old witch, who made enchantments, and lived all alone in the sky in the night. One day she found a flint in a field, and picked her up, and the stone told her that her name was Flint. And after a bit she found a small piece of steel, and picked him up, and asked his name, and he replied, “Steel” [iron]. She put the two in her pocket, and said to Flint, “You must marry Master Steel.” So they did, but one day the two began to quarrel, and Steel gave his wife Flint a hot one “Pen mandy a wāver gudlo apā o chone?” Avail miri deari. Adré o pūro chirus būtidosta manushia jivvede kūshti-bākeno ’dré o chone, sār chichi ta kair awer ta rikker āp o yāg so kérela o dūd. Awer, amen i foki jivdas būti wafodo mūleno manush, kon dusherdas te lias witchaben atūt sār i waveri deari manushia, te yuv kairedas lis sā’s ta shikker lende sār adrom, te chivdas len avrī o chone. Te kennā o sig o i foki shan jillo, yuv pendas: “Kennā akovi dinneli juckalis shan jillo, me te vel jiv mashni te kūshto, sār akonyus.” Awer pāsh o bitto, o yāg ankairdas ta hátch alay, te akovo geero latchdas se yuv né kāmdas ta hatch adré o rātti te merav shillino, yuv sosti jā sarja pā kosht. Te kanna i waveri foki shanas adoi, yān né kerden o rikkaben te wadderin i kāshta adré o dívvusko chirus, awer kennā asti lel lis sār apré sustis pikkia, sār i rātti, te sār o divvus. Sā i foki akai apré o chollo-tem dikena adovo manush keti dívvus kennā, sar pordo o koshter te bittered, te mūserd te gūmeri, te gūberin keti leskro noko kokero, te kūnerin akonyus pāsh lestis yāg. Te i chori mushia te yuv badderedas adrom, yul [yān] jassed sār atūt te trūstal o hev akai, te adoi, te hatchede up būti pā lender kokeros; te adovi shan i starya, te chirkia, te bitti dūdapen tu díkessa sārakai. “Se adovo sār tacho?” Akovi se kūmi te me jinova. Awer kanna sā tu penessa mé astis dikk o manush dré o chone savo rikkela kāsht apré lestes dūmo, yuv sosti keravit ta chiv adré o yāg, te yuv ne tevel dukker lestes kokero ta kair adovo te yuv sus rumado or lias palyor, sā lis se kāmmaben adosta o mūsh chingerd lestis palya te nassered lende sār andūro. Tacho. “Tell me another story about the moon.” Yes, my dear. In the old time many men lived happily in the moon, with nothing to do but keep up the fire which makes the light. But among the folk lived a very wicked, obstinate man, who troubled and hated all the other nice [dear] people, and he managed it so as to drive them all away, and put them out of the moon. And when the mass of the folk were gone, he said, “Now those stupid dogs have gone, I will live comfortably and well, all alone.” But after a bit the fire began to burn down, and that man found that if he did not want to be in the darkness [night] and die of cold he must go all the time for wood. And when the other people were there, they never did any carrying or splitting wood in the day-time, but now he had to take it all on his shoulders, all night and all day. So the people here on our earth see that man to this day all burdened [full] of wood, and bitter and grumbling to himself, and lurking alone by his fire. And the poor people whom he had driven away went all across and around heaven, here and there, and set up in business for themselves, and they are the stars and planets and lesser lights which you see all about.O MANŪSH KON JIVDAS ADRÉ O CHONE (SHONE).
THE MAN WHO LIVED IN THE MOON.