“Don’t you wish you had it?”
She burst into tears, and the next moment said:
“Oh, Crisp, I am so hungry; won’t you give me some?”
His only reply was a grin, and, taking a place on the ground just near enough that she might inhale the odor from the bowl, he ate its entire contents.
“I don’t believe I could think of anything as mean as Crisp does if I hated anybody,” thought Zula. The day and night passed away and brought her no reprieve, and the next afternoon found her still unreleased. Old Meg and Crisp had looked in just long enough to remind her of their existence, then left her to her solitary confinement. A sound of strange voices without attracted her attention. It was a party of young ladies and gentlemen from the city who had come to have their fortunes told. Old Meg was seated so near the tent that Zula heard every word. Two voices sounded strangely familiar, but she could not tell where she had heard them until the clear voice of June floated out upon the air, saying:
“Please give us a good fortune, for none of us want bad ones.”
Zula’s heart leaped for joy as she heard the voices of her friends, but sank in despair when she remembered 25 she could not speak to them, and even if she could she would not let them know she was there, for in that case they would know she was a gypsy.
The young girl’s fortune was told, and June, addressing Scott, said: “Come, have your fortune told; don’t you see what a lovely one I am to have? I shall always be happy thinking about it. Have your fortune told and you will know whether you will ever be married and whether you will live happy or not.”
“Oh, we know who he is going to marry,” chimed in a miss of sixteen, “but we don’t know whether he will be happy or not.”
“I rather think my life will be just the same, whether I have my fortune told or not. If it is to be a happy one it is well, and if not I shall know it soon enough,” said Scott.