“BEAUX YEUX.”
The girl replied, “Oh, would you—why it would take you ever so long. That’s true, isn’t it?” she added, turning to me for confirmation of the statement.
Undaunted, he returned to the charge—
“Well, can you tell me the best way to learn?”
“Yes,” replied my companion without a moment’s hesitation, “marry a gypsy girl,—if she’ll have you.”
Upon looking into this, and reading between the lines, the objection the gypsies have to the acquirement of their language by any one whom they do not credit with some degree of blood relationship is quite evident.
On another occasion I happened to be chatting with about half a dozen gypsies, when a person who was not a gypsy joined the group. This was a signal for a woman near me to come close and whisper—
“Kekko rokkra it, mush” (don’t talk it), and I discovered later that the new-comer was one who had picked up a little of the language and was most anxious to learn more. Although the behaviour of the gypsies towards the man was politeness itself, no more Romany was spoken until he was out of earshot.