GUDLO XXVIII. STORY OF THE GENTLEMAN AND THE GIPSY.
Yeckorus a boro rye wouldn’t mukk a choro, pauvero, chovveny Rommany chal hatch odöi ’pré his farm. So the Rommany chal jālled on a puv apré the waver rikk o’ the drum, anerjal the ryas beshaben. And dovo rātti the ryas ker pelled alay; kek kāsh of it hatched apré, only the foki that loddered adöi hullered their kokeros avree mā their miraben. And the ryas tikno chavo would a-mullered if a Rommany juva had not lelled it avree their pauveri bitti tan.
An’ dovo’s sār tacho like my dad, an’ to the divvus kennā they pens that pūv the Rommany Pūv.
TRANSLATION.
Once a great gentleman would not let a poor, poor, poor Gipsy stay on his farm. So the Gipsy went to a field on the other side of the way, opposite the gentleman’s residence. And that night the gentleman’s house fell down; not a stick of it remained standing, only the people who lodged there carried themselves out (i.e., escaped) with their lives. And the gentleman’s little babe would have died if a Gipsy woman had not taken it into their poor little tent.
And that’s all true as my father, and to this day they call that field the Gipsy Field.
GUDLO XXIX. HOW THE GIPSY WENT INTO THE WATER.
Yeck divvus a prastramengro prastered pauli a Rommany chal, an’ the chal jālled adrée the panni, that was pordo o’ boro bittis o’ floatin’ shill, and there he hatched pāll his men with only his sherro avree. “Hav avree,” shelled a rye that was wafro in his see for the pooro mush, “an’ we’ll mukk you jāl!” “Kek,” penned the Rom; “I shan’t jāl.” “Well avree,” penned the rye ajaw, “an’ I’ll del tute pange bar!” “Kek,” rakkered the Rom. “Jāl avree,” shokkered the rye, “an’ I’ll del tute pange bar an’ a nevvi chukko!” “Will you del mandy a walin o’ tatto panni too?” putched the Rommany chal. “Āvail, ávail,” penned the rye; “but for Duveleste hav’ avree the panni!” “Kushto,” penned the Rommany chal, “for cāmmoben to tute, rya, I’ll jāl avree!” [{235}]
TRANSLATION.
Once a policeman chased a Gipsy, and the Gipsy ran into the river, that was full of great pieces of floating ice, and there he stood up to his neck with only his head out. “Come out,” cried a gentleman that pitied the poor man, “and we’ll let you go!” “No,” said the Gipsy; “I won’t move.” “Come out,” said the gentleman again, “and I’ll give you five pounds!” “No,” said the Gipsy. “Come out,” cried the gentleman, “and I’ll give you five pounds and a new coat!” “Will you give me a glass of brandy too?” asked the Gipsy. “Yes, yes,” said the gentleman; “but for God’s sake come out of the water!” “Well,” exclaimed the Gipsy, “to oblige you, sir, I’ll come out!”