“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.
ROMANY TACHIPEN.
Taken down accurately from an old gypsy. Common dialect, or “half-and-half” language.
“Rya, tute kāms mandy to pukker tute the tachopen—āwo? Se’s a boro or a kūsi covva, mandy’ll rakker tacho, s’up mi-duvel, apré mi meriben,
bengis adré man’nys see if mandy pens a bitto huckaben! An’ sā se adduvvel? Did mandy ever chore a kāni adré mi jiv? and what do the Romany chals kair o’ the poris, ’cause kekker ever dikked chīchī pāsh of a Romany tan? Kek rya,—mandy never chored a kāni an’ adré sixty beshes kenna ’at mandy’s been apré the drumyors, an’ sār dovo chirus mandy never dikked or shūned or jinned of a Romany chal’s chorin yeck. What’s adduvel tute pens?—that Petulengro kāliko dívvus penned tute yuv rikkered a yāgengeree to muller kānis! Avail rya—tacho se ajā—the mush penned adré his kokero see weshni kanis. But kek kairescro kanis. Romanis kekker chores lendy.”
GYPSY TRUTH.
“Master, you want me to tell you all the truth,—yes? If it’s a big or a little thing, I’ll tell the truth, so help me God, upon my life! The devil be in my soul if I tell the least lie! And what is it? Did I ever in all my life steal a chicken? and what do the gypsies do with the feathers, because nobody ever saw any near a gypsy tent? Never, sir,—I never stole a chicken; and in all the sixty years that I’ve been on the roads, in all that time I never saw or heard or knew of a gypsy’s stealing one. What’s that you say?—that Petulengro told you yesterday that he carried a gun to kill chickens! Ah yes, sir,—that is true, too. The man meant in his heart wood chickens [that is, pheasants]. But not domestic chickens. Gypsies never steal them.” [324]
CHOVIHANIPEN.
“Miri diri bībī, me kamāva butidiro tevel chovihani. Kāmāva ta dukker geeris te ta jin kūnjerni cola. Tu sosti sikker mengi sārakovi.”