Lavengro by George Borrow (read me a book txt) 📕

might have got double the price, had I known the value; but I don’t care, much good may it do them, it has done me plenty. By means of it I have got into an honest, respectable trade, in which there’s little danger and plenty of profit, and got out of one which would have got me lagged sooner or later.”

“But,” said I, “you ought to remember that the thing was not yours; you took it from me, who had been requested by a poor old apple-woman to exchange it for a Bible.”

“Well,” said the man, “did she ever get her Bible?”

“Yes,” said I, “she got her Bible.”

“Then she has no cause to complain; and, as for you, chance or something else has sent you to me, that I may make you reasonable amends for any loss you may have had. Here am I ready to make you my bonnet, with forty or fifty shillings a week, which you say yourself are capital wages.”

“I find no fault with the wages,” said I, “but I don’t like the employ.”

“Not like bonneting,” said the man; “ah, I see, you would like to be principal; well, a time may come⁠—those long white fingers of yours would just serve for the business.”

“Is it a difficult one?” I demanded.

“Why, it is not very easy: two things are needful⁠—natural talent, and constant practice; but I’ll show you a point or two connected with the game;” and, placing his table between his knees as he sat over the side of the pit, he produced three thimbles, and a small brown pellet, something resembling a pea. He moved the thimble and pellet about, now placing it to all appearance under one, and now under another; “Under which is it now?” he said at last. “Under that,” said I, pointing to the lowermost of the thimbles, which, as they stood, formed a kind of triangle. “No,” said he, “it is not, but lift it up;” and, when I lifted up the thimble, the pellet, in truth, was not under it. “It was under none of them,” said he, “it was pressed by my little finger against my palm;” and then he showed me how he did the trick, and asked me if the game was not a funny one; and, on my answering in the affirmative, he said: “I am glad you like it, come along and let us win some money.”

Thereupon, getting up, he placed the table before him, and was moving away; observing, however, that I did not stir, he asked me what I was staying for. “Merely for my own pleasure,” said I, “I like sitting here very well.” “Then you won’t close?” said the man. “By no means,” I replied, “your proposal does not suit me.” “You may be principal in time,” said the man. “That makes no difference,” said I; and, sitting with my legs over the pit, I forthwith began to decline an Armenian noun. “That a’n’t cant,” said the man; “no, nor gypsy either. Well, if you won’t close, another will, I can’t lose any more time,” and forthwith he departed.

And after I had declined four Armenian nouns, of different declensions, I rose from the side of the pit, and wandered about amongst the various groups of people scattered over the green. Presently I came to where the man of the thimbles was standing, with the table before him, and many people about him. “Them who finds, wins, and them who can’t find, loses,” he cried. Various individuals tried to find the pellet, but all were unsuccessful, till at last considerable dissatisfaction was expressed, and the terms rogue and cheat were lavished upon him. “Never cheated anybody in all my life,” he cried; and, observing me at hand, “didn’t I play fair, my lord?” he inquired. But I made no answer. Presently some more played, and he permitted one or two to win, and the eagerness to play with him became greater. After I had looked on for some time, I was moving away; just then I perceived a short, thick personage, with a staff in his hand, advancing in a great hurry; whereupon with a sudden impulse, I exclaimed:⁠—

Shoon thimble-engro;
Avella gorgio.

The man who was in the midst of his pea-and-thimble process, no sooner heard the last word of the distich, than he turned an alarmed look in the direction of where I stood; then, glancing around, and perceiving the constable, he slipped forthwith his pellet and thimbles into his pocket, and, lifting up his table, he cried to the people about him, “Make way!” and with a motion of his head to me, as if to follow him, he darted off with a swiftness which the short, pursy constable could by no means rival; and whither he went, or what became of him, I know not, inasmuch as I turned away in another direction.

LIV

And, as I wandered along the green, I drew near to a place where several men, with a cask beside them, sat carousing in the neighbourhood of a small tent. “Here he comes,” said one of them, as I advanced, and standing up he raised his voice and sang:⁠—

Here the Gypsy gemman see,
With his Roman jib and his rome and dree⁠—
Rome and dree, rum and dry
Rally round the Rommany Rye.

It was Mr. Petulengro, who was here diverting himself with several of his comrades; they all received me with considerable frankness. “Sit down, brother,” said Mr. Petulengro, “and take a cup of good ale.”

I sat down. “Your health, gentlemen,” said I, as I took the cup which Mr. Petulengro handed to me.

“Aukko tu pios adrey Rommanis. Here is your health in Rommany, brother,” said Mr. Petulengro; who, having refilled the cup, now emptied it at a draught.

“Your health in Rommany, brother,” said Tawno Chikno, to whom the cup came next.

“The Rommany Rye,” said a third.

“The Gypsy gentleman,” exclaimed a fourth, drinking.

And then they all sang in chorus:⁠—