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When the chavvis can't latch the tan, it's the same gudlo, "Rom-ma-ny jo-ter!" Joter pens kett'nus.
"Gudlo Rye, in the Romany of mine, means a sugar'd gentleman," said I; "then there are gypsies in your country?" "Plenty," said the Hungarian, speaking German, "and in Russia and Turkey too; and wherever they are found, they are alike in their ways and language. Oh, they are a strange race, and how little known!
"That would be," I said, "the Efta Sirnie. I suppose your name for it is the Hefta Pens. There is a story that once they were seven sisters, but one of them was lost, and so they are called seven to this day though there are only six. And their right name is the Pleiades." "That gudlo that story," replied the gipsy, "is like the one of the Seven Whistlers, which you know is in the Scriptures."
"That is a fino gudlo a fine story; and all of it about an ash tree. Can you tell me anything about the surrelo rukk the strong tree the oak?" "Only what I've often heard our people say about its life." "And what is that?" "Dui hundred besh a hatchin, dui hundred besh nasherin his chuckko, dui hundred besh 'pre he mullers, and then he nashers sar his ratt and he's kekoomi kushto."
The waver divvus anpauli, dovo Rom jalled to the ryas baulo- tan, an' dicked odoi a boro rikkeno baulo, an' gillied, "I'll dick acai if I can kair tute ruv a bitti." Now, rya, you must jin if you del a baulor kris adree a pabo, he can't shell avree or kair a gudlo for his miraben, an' you can rikker him bissin', or chiv him apre a wardo, an' jal andurer an' kek jin it.
So she took a pig that had died a natural death, from her back and threw it on the table before all the people, and said, "Take the dead pig for a wife, and I will look after the children." My raia, the gudlo of the Seven Whistlers, you jin, is adree the Scriptures so they pookered mandy. An' it pookers 'dree the Bible that the Seven Whistlers shell wherever they praster atut the bavol.
So the lady said she should like to hear Leviathan sing, whereupon Leviathan sang the Gudlo pesham, and Piramus played the tune of the same name, which as you know, means the honeycomb, the song and the tune being well entitled to the name, being wonderfully sweet.
As to the language of the stories, it is all literally and faithfully that of a Gipsy, word by word, written down as he uttered it, when, after we had got a gudlo into shape, he told it finally over, which he invariably did with great eagerness, ending with an improvised moral. But when they jawed adree the ker, they lastered the kosh had mullered a divio juckal that was jawan' to dant the chavo.
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