so fear God, young man, and never give in! The world can bully, and is fond, provided it sees a man in a kind of difficulty, of getting about him, calling him coarse names, and even going so far as to hustle him; but the world, like all bullies, carries a white feather in its tail, and no sooner sees the man taking off his coat, and offering to fight its best, than it scatters here and there, and is always civil to him afterwards. So when folks are disposed to ill-treat you, young man, say ‘Lord, have mercy upon me!’ and then tip them Long Melford, to which, as the saying goes, there is nothing comparable for shortness all the world over.”
He had probably a natural inclination towards a liberal or eccentric morality, but he was no thinker, and he gave way to a middle-class phraseology—with exceptions, as when he gives it as the opinion of his old master, the Norwich solicitor, that “all first-rate thieves were sober, and of well-regulated morals, their bodily passions being kept in abeyance by their love of gain.” Sometimes Borrow allows these two sides of him, his private and his social sides, to appear together dramatically. For example, he more than half seriously advises Jasper to read the Scriptures and learn his duty to his fellow-creatures and his duty to his own soul, lest he should be ranked with those who are “outcast, despised and miserable.” Whereupon Jasper questions him and gets him to admit that the Gypsies are very much like the cuckoos, roguish, chaffing birds that everybody is glad to see again:
“‘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 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, and everybody is glad to see both of us again.’
“‘Yes, Jasper, but there is some difference between men and cuckoos; men have souls, Jasper!’