“We had the preachers here just before you came up, but they don’t understand gypsy talk, so we’d like you to give us the Lord’s Prayer in Romany. If you will, I’ll call the children from the other camp; there’s a dozen of us altogether, but only two as can read.”
Of course I consented, and after the occupants of the adjacent tent had joined the group, all stood silent and attentive while I repeated the words, which, to the ordinary English ear, sound so strange. At the concluding words—Si covar ajaw—the woman said “Paracrow tuti” (I thank you).
“YOU LIKE ME THE BEST.”
Oftentimes since have I thought of this incident, and it has occurred to me that Christian workers among these people are often obliged to confess that after years of wearying labour, little or no evident progress has attended their efforts, but there is here some indication that the good seed implanted may not always die, but may lie dormant awaiting the conditions that will favour its development.
Possibly some cynic may accuse these gypsies of hypocrisy,—of simulating a desire he considers foreign to their nature in order to beg successfully afterwards. I am afraid such an accusation would not be unjust to many of the Chorodies, but the great majority of gypsies would consider such action beneath them.
As I have had no connection with any religious body working among gypsies, but have mingled with them, helped with their work, lived and wandered amongst them because I like the people, and as they have always treated me with kindness, literally as one of themselves, I have probably had opportunities of estimating results that are denied the workers themselves, and I consider the incident just related to be typical of the attitude of the gypsies, that is to say, they are not altogether indifferent, but, above all else, Romany folk desire to preserve their own language, and all other things being equal, it would seem that the man who will be the greatest power in getting gypsies to turn to the light, will be one who has an intimate knowledge of them and will talk and reason with them in their own language.
It is to be feared, however, that in some minds the unworthy feeling exists that it would savour of paganism, or at the least be irreligious to pray in a gypsy tongue. Surely it is time our views were broadened a little.
I have seen gypsies playing pitch and toss, and have many times looked on at their games with cards, which are usually played solely for the pleasure they afford, counters in the form of buttons or stones being used instead of money. The gypsy—wicked as he is said to be—does not lose many pounds nightly at bridge, roulette or at the casino.