THE POST-PRANDIAL HALF-HOUR.
A half-caste gypsy once attempted to bring discredit on my knowledge of the Romany tongue by speaking in what he afterwards informed me was “foreign Romany.” I regret that while I have a distinct recollection of the jumble of sounds, I am not able to reproduce it. Strangely enough, this man prided himself on being able to talk in a tongue no one else understood, and I confess I am still incapable of seeing just how he or any one else benefited thereby.
Probably it is the “Romany” of the Chorodies and low-lived half-castes that has induced writers to describe the gypsy tongue in England as having become sadly mutilated; certainly, such folk present no exception to the rule that the language of a people becomes, almost invariably, degraded in the ratio that their life is debased, the lowest of them seeming even to select inharmonious, and often foul and repulsive words to express their daily needs. Language would, indeed, appear to be to them little more than the bark of a dog, or the neighing of a horse, for, obviously, the melody of pure Romany does not in the least appeal to them as it undoubtedly does to the true Romanichal, whose language conjures up visions of trees and birds, furze-covered commons and heather-clad moors.
Romany is a poetical language, and, as might be expected, gypsy poetry is not rare. When well recited it is very musical although much of it does not rhyme; I have, however, found that a mixed Romany audience invariably prefers such as has both rhythm and rhyme.
One evening towards the end of the hoppicking, I attended a concert which had been organized for the entertainment of the gypsies, the artistes for the most part being the Romanies themselves, while the programme might fittingly be described as “scratch.”
“TATCHEY ROMANIES.”
The affair was held in a large tent capable of accommodating, say, a hundred to a hundred and fifty persons. We had a “full house” and the odour of hops was very perceptible; but this was a trifling matter which, if noticed at all by the majority of the audience, was immediately forgotten when the programme was commenced. Names had been given during the morning by those who were willing to sing, or otherwise contribute to the amusement or entertainment of the company. Our platform consisted of a box placed bottom upward, the tent was illuminated by two hanging lamps, and as there was no charge for admission, every grade of gypsy society contributed its quota of audience, among whom were many good-looking girls, a fair sprinkling of men and a number of women whose beauty had not for several years been remarkable; there was also present a small contingent of the rough element, one or two of whom caused a little trouble at times by perpetrating idiotic practical jokes, one of which was that a youth would commence to set on fire the coat-tail of some one directly in front of him; however, these disturbers of the peace were soon noticed, and, as I had anticipated, were advised in very forcible language to get outside. As they were discreet enough to withdraw, our programme subsequently went along very well. One or two humorous songs were sung by gypsies, and, strangely enough, not the slightest indication of humour was apparent in either intonation or gesture. Songs of a more or less sentimental character were the rule, although we had some rollicking songs towards the end, to which a girl executed a step-dance on the box until a board gave way.