Those who are accustomed to some kind of bed—in the generally accepted sense of the word—will not consider this enticing; nevertheless, while the seductive nature of a few rags as a bed upon the ground may well be ignored, bracken, heather, hay, etc., are used with a considerable amount of satisfaction and a kind of primitive comfort by these people.
In appraising the term “comfort” in its application to gypsy life one must not forget that it is a word of comparative significance, nor that the gypsy is reared in a scant nursery and is thereby rendered immune from the petty annoyances and complaints that beset daily the life of the pampered,—may we not correctly say, ultra-civilized,—for the gypsy lives a healthy, open-air life, with sun, wind and rain as his closest companions, taking no anxious thought for the morrow, with the result that he is seldom seriously unwell or unfit,—to quote the words of an Indian gypsy to an acquaintance of mine:
“Gypsies are ill but once,”—a general statement which appears to be as applicable to our English Romanies as to their Hindu brethren.
CHAPTER III
“Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must take it with us or we find it not.”—Emerson.
HITHERTO, the injunction, “Seek, and ye shall find,” would appear to have been construed with sinistral intention of seeking to discredit the gypsy, by most of those who have professed to give an insight to Romany life, presuming, of course, that the word-pictures presented by them have described their impressions and have not been filched ideas served up anew.
This seemingly ungenerous observation is warranted by the fact that the justifiably suspicious attitude of the gypsy has in all but a few noteworthy instances kept the gorgio at a distance, and it may be safely inferred that no true description or estimate of Romany life and character is possible excepting as the result of an admitted friendship with the people.