Once, many hundred years ago (to-day now), a girl was going to steal an egg. “Let me be,” said the egg, “and I will show you where you can get a duck.” So the girl got the duck, and it said (told) to her, “Let me go and I will show you where you can get a goose” (large hen). Then she stole the goose, and it cried out, “Let me go and I’ll show you where you can steal a turkey” (lady-bird). And when she took the turkey, it said, “Let me go and I’ll show you where you can get a calf.” So she got the calf, and it bawled and wept, and cried, “Let me go and I’ll show you where to get a fine horse.” And when she stole the horse, it said to her, “Let me go and I’ll carry you to a handsome, rich gentleman who wants a sweetheart.” So she got the nice young gentleman, and lived with him pleasantly one week; but then he told her to go away, he did not want her any more. “What a bad man you are,” wept the girl, “to send me away! For your sake I gave away an egg, a duck, a goose, a turkey, a calf, and a fine horse.” “Is that true?” asked the youth. “By my dead father!” swore the girl, “I gave them all up for you, one after the other, and now you send me away!” “So help me God!” said the gentleman, “if you lost so many things for me, I’ll marry you.” So they were married.
Yes, there are false truths and true lies. You may kiss the book on that.
GUDLO XXXIV. THE GIPSY TELLS OF WILL-O’-THE-WISP.
Does mandy jin the lav adrée Rommanis for a Jack-o’-lantern—the dood that prasters, and hatches, an’ kells o’ the rātti, parl the panni, adrée the puvs? Avali; some pens ’em the Momeli Mullos, and some the Bitti Mullos. They’re bitti geeros who rikker tute adrée the gógemars, an’ sikker tute a dood till you’re all jālled apré a wafro drum an nashered, an’ odöi they chiv their kokeros pāuli an’ savs at tute. Mandy’s dicked their doods ádusta cheiruses, an’ kekoomi; but my pal dicked längis muis pāsh mungwe yeck rātti. He was jāllin’ langus an’ dicked their doods, and jinned it was the yāg of lesters tan. So he pallered ’em, an’ they tàdered him dúkker the drum, parl the bors, weshes, puvius, gogemars, till they lelled him adrée the panni, an then savvy’d avree. And odöi he dicked lender pré the waver rikk, mā lesters kokerus yākkis, an’ they were bitti mushis, bitti chovihānis, about dui peeras boro. An’ my pal was bengis hunnalo, an’ sovahalled pal’ lengis, “If I lelled you acai, you ratfolly juckos! if I nashered you, I’d chin tutes curros!” An’ he jālled to tan ajaw an’ pookered mandy saw dovo ’pré dovo rat. “Kún sus adovo?” Āvali, rya; dovo was pāsh Kaulo Panni—near Blackwater.
TRANSLATION.
Do I know the word in Rommanis for a Jack-o’-lantern—the light that runs, and stops, and dances by night, over the water, in the fields? Yes; some call them the Light Ghosts, and some the Little Ghosts. They’re little men who lead you into the waste and swampy places, and show you a light until you have gone astray and are lost, and then they turn themselves around and laugh at you. I have seen their lights many a time, and nothing more; but my brother saw their faces close and opposite to him (directly vis-à-vis) one night. He was going along and saw their lights, and thought it was the fire of his tent. So he followed them, and they drew him from the road over hedges, woods, fields, and lonely marshes till they got him in the water, and then laughed out loud. And there he saw them with his own eyes, on the opposite side, and they were little fellows, little goblins, about two feet high. And my brother was devilish angry, and swore at them! “If I had you here, you wretched dogs! if I caught you, I’d cut your throats!” And he went home and told me all that that night. “Where was it?” Yes, sir; that was near Blackwater.
GUDLO XXXV. THE GIPSY EXPLAINS WHY THE FLOUNDER HAS HIS MOUTH ON ONE SIDE.
Yeckorus sār the matchis jālled an’ suvved kettenescrus ’drée the panni. And yeck penned as yuv was a boro mush, an’ the waver rakkered ajaw sā yuv was a borodiro mush, and sār pookered sigán ket’nus how lengis were borodirer mushis. Adöi the flounder shelled avree for his meriben “Mandy’s the krallis of you sār!” an’ he shelled so surrelo he kaired his mui bongo, all o’ yeck rikkorus. So to akovo divvus acäi he’s penned the Krallis o’ the Matchis, and rikkers his mui bongo sār o’ yeck sidus.
Mushis shouldn’t shell too shunaben apré lengis kokeros.