Again, our intention has been to give some truthful sketches of gipsy character, divested of any imaginary fiction.
Esmeralda, Noah, and Zachariah are, we believe, a fair average type of the true tenting gipsy. There has been a scrupulous avoidance of anything tending to gloss their faults. They are presented to the reader, rough as they are, surrounded with only such romantic interest as they derive from the real occurrences, incidents, and adventures, which occurred in every-day life. We did not leave them any the worse than we found them; indeed, we trust that some influences may not be lost on their future. In utilising their rough gipsy energy, no attempt was made to struggle against the established instincts and traditions of their race. Past experience shows the inutility of all hope of much practical result in trying to do so. For some purpose we know not of, they have fulfilled, and now fulfil, a singular destiny. The facts before us, as given by the research of many authors, in various parts of Europe, leave no doubt as to the inscrutable hand of Providence, in their mission upon earth. Not before that is accomplished, will they, like other races, be blotted out.
Even to the present time, their origin is a mystery, not yet solved.[139] Their language, to which they have clung, as the drowning man clutches the straw, links them undoubtedly to a very early date, a bygone past, far remote in the history of men and nations.
Esmeralda! Oh, yes, my readers; the Rye has had painful experience of the Rawnee’s temper. She is now seventeen years of age, five feet eight inches high, and dark to the extreme gipsy eyes and hair. Yet she is honest, energetic, and kindly in disposition; which covers a multitude of faults, in these nomads of the world. She can sing, and she likes to dance. Yet she has much tact, control, and common sense. Few girls at Esmeralda’s age would have ventured with the Rye, and her brothers, over the sea to a distant land. She followed them through all their wild wanderings.[140] No! Esmeralda has something of the Cleopatra blood, which is not quite used up.
OLE HALVORSEN, OUR GUIDE.
Well, readers, after all, Noah is not a bad young fellow, six feet high, without his boots, about which so much trouble had been taken, and which cost so much. He is in want of a wife. In camp, and out of camp, his temper is excellent. Noah at times is chaffy—Noah likes dancing. Noah is honest, and Noah likes his beer, when camp rules, which are very stringent, permit it. Noah can pack and pitch tents—can you doubt it? He packed our donkeys through Norway, and unceasingly rockered his brother and sister, to use a mild term, whilst they did their share in that interesting department, and failed to hit his rigid regulations to a shade.
Well, readers, Zachariah, Mephistopheles, after all is a nice dark young fellow when you don’t put him out of temper, and then—we won’t say what. He can fish, go for vand, and light the yog.[141] He is honest—we hope he won’t be hung; at the same time our experience shows he cannot be drowned. If you attend our camp, he can play the violin.
LAST GROUP. FAREWELL!