“That is the gypsy law, prala.”
The earnest manner, and the convincing tone in which all this was said left no room for doubt that the unwritten laws of the Romanies are really felt by them to be more sacred and binding than the law of the land,—the former being obeyed because of an inherited respect for them, or a mystical allegiance to tribal traditions, while the latter would appear to command respect only on account of the physical force behind.
The gypsy wedding is usually accompanied by a spree by way of celebration, and unhappily some of the company emulate the gorgios at similar functions by getting into a state quite the reverse of sober. Such conduct, even if pardonable on these occasions, is of course discreditable, but to be quite just to the gypsy I must say that his behaviour in the circumstances seems to be less bestial than that of many a non-gypsy who professedly despises him.
“Are you married?” asked one of the girls of me.
“No,” I replied.
“Well, you ain’t got much to worry about,” said she, with a saucy smile.
Not far from our group was a camp that had all day appeared deserted save for a child or two left “on guard.”
Now there came from it sounds as of meat sizzling in the frying-pan, while clouds of wood-smoke ascended and a cheery voice called out:
“Will you join us?—you’re welcome.”