The Gypsies

Gypsy Stories in Romany, With Translation

Merlinos Te Trinali

“Miro koko, pen mandy a rinkeno gudlo?”

Avali miri chavi. Me ’tvel pen tute dui te shyan trin, vonka tute ’atches sār pūkeno. Shūn amengi. Yeckorus adré o Làvines tem sos a boro chovihan, navdo Merlinos. Gusvero mush sos Merlinos, būti seeri covva yuv asti kair. Jindás yuv ta pūr yeck jivnipen adré o waver, saster adré o rūpp, te o rūpp adré sonakai. Finō covva sos adovo te sos miro. Te longoduro fon leste jivdes a bori chovihani, Trinali sos lākis nav. Boridiri chovihani sos Trinali, būti manushe seerdas yoi, būti ryor pūrdas yoi adré mylia te bālor, te né kesserdas yeck haura pā sār lender dush.

Yeck divvus Merlinos liás lester chovihaneskro ran te jas adūro ta latcher i chovihanī te pessur lāki drován pā sār lākis wafropen. Te pā adovo tacho dívvus i rāni Trinali shundas sa Merlinos boro ruslo sorelo chovihan se, te pendas, “Sossi ajafra mush? Me dukkerāva leste or yuv tevel mer mande, s’up mi o beng! me shom te seer leste. Mukkamen dikk savo lela kūmi shūnaben, te savo sē o jinescrodiro?” Te adoi o Merlinos jās apré o dromus, sārodívvus akonyo, sarja adré o kamescro dūd, te Trinali jās adré o wesh sarjā adré o rātinus, o tam, o kālopen, o shure, denne yoi sos chovihāni. Kennāsig, yān latcherde yeckawaver, awer Merlinos né jindas yoi sos Trinali, te Trinali né jindas adovo manush se Merlinos. Te yuv sos būti kamelo ke laki, te yoi apopli; kennāsig yāndūi ankairde ta kām yeckawaver butidiro. Vonka yeck jinella adovo te o waver jinella lis, kek boro chirus tvel i duī sosti jinavit. Merlinos te Trinali pende “me kamava tute,” sig ketenes, te chūmerde yeckawaver, te beshde alay rikkerend adré o simno pelashta te rakkerde kūshto bāk.

Te adenna Merlinos pūkkerdas lāki, yuv jas ta dusher a būti wafodi chovihani, te Trinali pendas lesko o simno covva, sā yoi sos ruzno ta kair o sīmno keti a boro chovihano. Te i dūi ankairede ta mānger yeckawāver ta mūkk o covva jā, te yoi te yuv shomas atrash o nasherin lende pireno te pirenī. Awer Merlinos pendas, “Mandy sovahalldom pā o kam ta pur lāki pā sār lākis jivaben adré o wāves trūppo.” Te yoi ruvvedas te pendas, “Sovahalldas me pā o chone ta pūr adovo chovihano adré a wavero, sim’s tute.” Denna Merlinos putcherdas, “Sāsi lesters nav?” Yoi pendas, “Merlinos.” Yuv rakkeredas palall, “Me shom leste, sāsī tiro nav?” Yoi shelledas avrī, “Trinali!”

Kennā vānka chovihanis sovahallan chumeny apré o kam te i choni, yān sosti keravit or mér. Te denna Merlinos pendas, “Jinesa tu sā ta kair akovo pennis sār kūshto te tacho?” “Kekker mīro kāmlo pireno,” pendas i chori chovihanī sā yoi ruvdas.” “Denna me shom kūmi jinescro, ne tute,” pendas Merlinos. “Shukar te kūshto covva se akovo, miri romni. Me bevel pūr tute adré mande, te mande adré tute. Te vonka mendui shom romadi mendui tevel yeck.”

Sā yeck mush ta dívvus kennā penella yoi siggerdas leste, te awavero pens yuv siggerdas lāki. Ne jināva me miri kāmeli. Ne dikkdas tu kekker a dui sherescro haura? Avail! Wūsser lis uppar, te vānka lis pellalay pūkk amengy savo rikk se alay. Welsher pendas man adovo. Welsheri pennena sarja tachopen.

Merlin and Trinali

“My uncle, tell me a pretty story!”

Yes, my child. I will tell you two, and perhaps three, if you keep very quiet. Listen to me. Once in Wales there was a great wizard named Merlin. Many magic things he could do. He knew how to change one living being into another, iron into silver, and silver into gold. A fine thing that would be if it were mine. And afar from him lived a great witch. Trinali was her name. A great witch was Trinali. Many men did she enchant, many gentlemen did she change into asses and pigs, and never cared a copper for all their sufferings.

One day Merlin took his magic rod, and went afar to find the witch, and pay her severely for all her wickedness. And on that very [true] day the lady Trinali heard how Merlin was [is] a great, powerful wizard, and said, “What sort of a man is this? I will punish him or he shall kill me, deuce help me! I will bewitch him. Let us see who has the most cleverness and who is the most knowing.” And then Merlin went on the road all day alone, always in sunshine; and Trinali went in the forest, always in the shade, the darkness, the gloom, for she was a black witch. Soon they found one another, but Merlin did not know [that] she was Trinali, and Trinal, did not know that man was [is to be] Merlin. And he was very pleasant to her, and she to him again. Very soon the two began to love one another very much. When one knows that and the other knows it, both will soon know it. Merlin and Trinali said “I love thee” both together, and kissed one another, and sat down wrapped in the same cloak, and conversed happily.

Then Merlin told her he was going to punish a very wicked witch; and Trinali told him the same thing, how she was bold [daring] to do the same thing to a great wizard. And the two began to beg one another to let the thing go, and she and he were afraid of losing lover and sweetheart. But Merlin said, “I swore by the sun to change her for her whole life into another form” [body]; and she wept and said, “I swore by the moon to change that wizard into another [person] even as you did.” Then Merlin inquired, “What is his name?” She said, “Merlin.” He replied, “I am he; what is your name?” She cried aloud, “Trinali.”

Now when witches swear anything on the sun or the moon, they must do it or die. Then Merlin said, “Do you know how to make this business all nice and right?” “Not at all, my dear love,” said the poor witch, as she wept. “Then I am cleverer than you,” said Merlin. “An easy and nice thing it is, my bride. For I will change you into me, and myself into you. And when we are married we two will be one.”

So one man says nowadays that she conquered him, and another that he conquered her. I do not know [which it was], my dear. Did you ever see a two-headed halfpenny? Yes? Throw it up, and when it falls down ask me which side is under. A Welsher told me that story. Welshers always tell the truth.

O Pūv-Sūver

Yeckorus sims būti kedivvus, sos rakli, te yoi sos kushti partanengrī, te yoi astis kair a rinkeno plāchta, yeck sār dívvus. Te covakai chi kamdas rye butidiro, awer yeck dívvus lākis pīreno sos stardo adré staruben. Te vonka yoi shundas lis, yoi hushtiedas apré te jas keti krallis te mangerdas leste choruknes ta mūkk lākis pīreno jā pīro. Te krallis patserdas lāki tevel yoi kairdas leste a rinkeno plāchta, yeck sār divvus pā kūrikus, hafta plāchta pā hafta dívvus, yuv tvel ferdel leste, te dé leste tachaben ta jā ’vrī. I tāni rāni siggerdas ta keravit, te pā shov divvus yoi táderedas adrom, kūshti zī, pā lis te sārkon chirus adré o shab yoi bítcherdas plāchta keta krallis. Awer avella yeck dívvus yoi sos kinlo, te pendes yoi néi kamdas kair būtsi ’dovo dívvus sī sos brishnū te yoi nestis shīri a sappa dré o kamlo dūd. Adenn’ o krallis pendas te yoi nestis kair būtsi hafta dívvus lava lakis pīreno, o rye sosti hatch staramescro te yoi ne mūkkdas kāmaben adosta pā leste. Te i rakli sos sā húnnalo te tukno dré lakis zī yoi merdas o rúvvin te lias pūraben adré o pūv-sūver. Te keti dívvus kennā yoi pandella apré lakris tavia, vonka kam peshella, te i cuttor pāni tu dikess’ apré lende shan o panni fon lākis yākka yoi ruvdas pā lākris pīreno.

Te tu vel hatch kaulo yeck lilieskro dívvus tu astis nasher sār o kairoben fon o chollo kūrikus, miri chavi. Tu peness’ tu kāmess’ to shūn waveri gudli. Sār tacho. Me tevel pūker tute rinkno gudlo apré kāli foki. Repper tute sārkon me penāva sā me repper das lis fon miro bābus.

The Spider

Once there was a girl, as there are many to-day, and she was a good needle-worker, and could make a beautiful cloak in one day. And that [there] girl loved a gentleman very much; but one day her sweetheart was shut up in prison, and when she heard it she hastened and went to the king, and begged him humbly to let her love go free. And the king promised her if she would make him a fine cloak,—one every day for a week, seven cloaks for seven days,—he would forgive him, and give him leave to go free. The young lady hastened to do it, and for six days she worked hard [lit. pulled away] cheerfully at it, and always in the evening she sent a cloak to the king. But it came [happened] one day that she was tired, and said [that] she did not wish to work because it was rainy, and she could not dry or bleach the cloth [?] in the sunlight. Then the king said that if she could not work seven days to get her lover the gentleman must remain imprisoned, for she did not love him as she should [did not let love enough on him]. And the maid was so angry and vexed in her heart [or soul] that she died of grief, and was changed into a spider. And to this day she spreads out her threads when the sun shines, and the dew-drops which you see on them are the tears which she has wept for her lover.

If you remain idle one summer day you may lose a whole week’s work, my dear. You say that you would like to hear more stories! All right. I will tell you a nice story about lazy people. 317b Remember all I tell you, as I remembered it from my grandfather.

Gorgio, Kalo-Manush, Te Rom

Yeckorus pā ankairoben, kon i manūshia nanei lavia, o boro Dúvel jas pirián. Sā sī asar? Shūn miri chavi, me givellis tute:—

Būti beshia kedivrus kennā
Adré o tem ankairoben,
O boro Dúvel jās ’vrī ajā,
Ta dikk i mushia miraben.

Sa yuv pirridas, dikkdas trin mūshia pāsh o dromescro rikk, hatchin keti chomano mūsh te vel dé lendis navia, te len putcherde o boro Dúvel ta navver lende. Dordi, o yeckto mush sos pāno, te o boro Dúvel pūkkerdas kavodoi, “Gorgio.” Te yuv sikkerdas leste kokero keti dovo, te sūderdas leste būti kāmeli sā jewries, te rinkeni rūdaben, te jās gorgeous. Te o wavescro geero sos kālo sā skunya, te o boro Dúvel pendas, “Nigger!” te yuv nikkeredas adrom, sā sūjery te mūzhili, te yuv se nikkerin sarjā keti kenna, adré o kamescro dūd, te yuv’s kālo-kālo ta kair būtsi, naneí tu serbers leste keti lis, te tazzers lis. Te o trinto mush sos brauuo, te yuv beshdas pūkeno, tūvin leste’s swägler, keti o boro Dúvel rākkerdas, “Rom!” te adenna o mūsh hatchedas apré, te pendas būti kāmelo, “Parraco Rya tiro kūshtaben; me te vel mishto piav tiro sastopen!” Te jās romeli a roamin langs i lescro romni, te kekker dukkerdas lester kokerus, né kesserdas pa chichi fon adennadoi keti kennā, te jās adral o sweti, te kekker hatchedas pūkenus, te nanei hudder ta kéravit ket’ o boro Dúvel penell’ o lav. Tacho adovo se sā tiri yakka, miri kāmli.

Gorgio, Black Man, and Gypsy319a

Once in the creation, when men had no names, the Lord went walking. How was that? Listen, my child, I will sing it to you:—

Many a year has passed away
Since the world was first begun,
That the great Lord went out one day
To see how men’s lives went on.

As he walked along he saw three men by the roadside, waiting till some man would give them names; and they asked the Lord to name them. See! the first man was white, and the Lord called him Gorgio. Then he adapted himself to that name, and adorned himself with jewelry and fine clothes, and went gorgeous. And the other man was black and the Lord called him Nigger, and he lounged away [nikker, to lounge, loiter; an attempted pun], so idle and foul; and he is always lounging till now in the sunshine, and he is too lazy [kalo-kalo, black-black, or lazy-lazy, that is, too black or too lazy] to work unless you compel and punish him. And the third man was brown, and he sat quiet, smoking his pipe, till the Lord said, Rom! [gypsy, or “roam”]; and then that man arose and said, very politely, “Thank you, Lord, for your kindness. I’d be glad to drink your health.” And he went, Romany fashion, a-roaming 319b with his romni [wife], and never troubled himself about anything from that time till to-day, and went through the world, and never rested and never wished to until the Lord speaks the word. That is all as true as your eyes, my dear!

Yag-Bar Te Saster. — Sā o Kam Sos Ankerdo

“Pen mandy a waver gudlo trustal o ankairoben!”

Né shomas adoi, awer shūndom būti apā lis fon miro bābus. Foki pende mengy sā o chollo-tem 320 sos kérdo fon o kam, awer i Romany chalia savo keren sār chingernes, pen o kam sos kérdo fon o boro tem. Wafedo gry se adovo te nestis ja sigan te anpāli o kūshto drom. Yeckorus ’dré o pūro chirus, te kennā, sos a bori pūreni chovihāni te kérdas sīrīni covvas, te jivdas sār akonyo adré o heb adré o rātti. Yeck dívvus yoi latchedas yag-bar adré o puv, te tilldas es apré te pūkkeredas lestes nav pāle, “Yāg-bar.” Te pāsh a bittus yoi latchedas a bitto kūshto-saster, te haderdas lis apré te putchedas lestis nav, te lis rakkerdas apopli, “Saster.” Chivdási dui ’dré lākis pūtsī, te pendas Yāg-bar, “Tu sosti rummer o rye, Saster!” Te yan kérdavit, awer yeck dívvus i dui ankairede ta chinger, te Saster dés lestis jūva Yag-bar a tatto-yek adré o yakk, te kairedas i chingari ta mūkker avri, te hotcher i pūri jūva’s pūtsī. Sā yoi wūsserdas hotcherni putsī adré o hev, te pendas lis ta kessur adrom keti avenna o mūsh sāri jūva kun kekker chingerd chichi. I chingari shan staria, te dovo yāg sē o kam, te lis nanei jillo avrī keti kennā, te lis tevel hotcher andūro būti beshia pā sār jinova mé keti chingerben. Tacho sī? Né shomas adoi.

Flint and Steel. Or How the Sun Was Created

“Tell me another story about the creation!”

I was not there at the time, but I heard a great deal about it from my grandfather. All he did there was to turn the wheel. People tell me that the world was made from the sun, but gypsies, who do everything all contrary, say that the sun was made from the earth. A bad horse is that which will not travel either way on a road. Once in the old time, as [there may be] now, was a great old witch, who made enchantments, and lived all alone in the sky in the night. One day she found a flint in a field, and picked her up, and the stone told her that her name was Flint. And after a bit she found a small piece of steel, and picked him up, and asked his name, and he replied, “Steel” [iron]. She put the two in her pocket, and said to Flint, “You must marry Master Steel.” So they did, but one day the two began to quarrel, and Steel gave his wife Flint a hot one [a severe blow] in the eye, and made sparks fly, and set fire to the old woman’s pocket. So she threw the burning pocket up into the sky, and told it to stay there until a man and his wife who had never quarreled should come there. The sparks [from Flint’s eye] are the stars, and the fire is the sun, and it has not gone out as yet, and it will burn on many a year, for all I know to the contrary. Is it true? I was not there.

O Manūsh Kon Jivdas Adré o Chone (Shone)

“Pen mandy a wāver gudlo apā o chone?”

Avail miri deari. Adré o pūro chirus būtidosta manushia jivvede kūshti-bākeno ’dré o chone, sār chichi ta kair awer ta rikker āp o yāg so kérela o dūd. Awer, amen i foki jivdas būti wafodo mūleno manush, kon dusherdas te lias witchaben atūt sār i waveri deari manushia, te yuv kairedas lis sā’s ta shikker lende sār adrom, te chivdas len avrī o chone. Te kennā o sig o i foki shan jillo, yuv pendas: “Kennā akovi dinneli juckalis shan jillo, me te vel jiv mashni te kūshto, sār akonyus.” Awer pāsh o bitto, o yāg ankairdas ta hátch alay, te akovo geero latchdas se yuv né kāmdas ta hatch adré o rātti te merav shillino, yuv sosti jā sarja pā kosht. Te kanna i waveri foki shanas adoi, yān né kerden o rikkaben te wadderin i kāshta adré o dívvusko chirus, awer kennā asti lel lis sār apré sustis pikkia, sār i rātti, te sār o divvus. Sā i foki akai apré o chollo-tem dikena adovo manush keti dívvus kennā, sar pordo o koshter te bittered, te mūserd te gūmeri, te gūberin keti leskro noko kokero, te kūnerin akonyus pāsh lestis yāg. Te i chori mushia te yuv badderedas adrom, yul [yān] jassed sār atūt te trūstal o hev akai, te adoi, te hatchede up būti pā lender kokeros; te adovi shan i starya, te chirkia, te bitti dūdapen tu díkessa sārakai.

“Se adovo sār tacho?” Akovi se kūmi te me jinova. Awer kanna sā tu penessa mé astis dikk o manush dré o chone savo rikkela kāsht apré lestes dūmo, yuv sosti keravit ta chiv adré o yāg, te yuv ne tevel dukker lestes kokero ta kair adovo te yuv sus rumado or lias palyor, sā lis se kāmmaben adosta o mūsh chingerd lestis palya te nassered lende sār andūro. Tacho.

The Man Who Lived in the Moon

“Tell me another story about the moon.”

Yes, my dear. In the old time many men lived happily in the moon, with nothing to do but keep up the fire which makes the light. But among the folk lived a very wicked, obstinate man, who troubled and hated all the other nice [dear] people, and he managed it so as to drive them all away, and put them out of the moon. And when the mass of the folk were gone, he said, “Now those stupid dogs have gone, I will live comfortably and well, all alone.” But after a bit the fire began to burn down, and that man found that if he did not want to be in the darkness [night] and die of cold he must go all the time for wood. And when the other people were there, they never did any carrying or splitting wood in the day-time, but now he had to take it all on his shoulders, all night and all day. So the people here on our earth see that man to this day all burdened [full] of wood, and bitter and grumbling to himself, and lurking alone by his fire. And the poor people whom he had driven away went all across and around heaven, here and there, and set up in business for themselves, and they are the stars and planets and lesser lights which you see all about.

Romany Tachipen

Taken down accurately from an old gypsy. Common dialect, or “half-and-half” language.

“Rya, tute kāms mandy to pukker tute the tachopen—āwo? Se’s a boro or a kūsi covva, mandy’ll rakker tacho, s’up mi-duvel, apré mi meriben, bengis adré man’nys see if mandy pens a bitto huckaben! An’ sā se adduvvel? Did mandy ever chore a kāni adré mi jiv? and what do the Romany chals kair o’ the poris, ’cause kekker ever dikked chīchī pāsh of a Romany tan? Kek rya,—mandy never chored a kāni an’ adré sixty beshes kenna ’at mandy’s been apré the drumyors, an’ sār dovo chirus mandy never dikked or shūned or jinned of a Romany chal’s chorin yeck. What’s adduvel tute pens?—that Petulengro kāliko dívvus penned tute yuv rikkered a yāgengeree to muller kānis! Avail rya—tacho se ajā—the mush penned adré his kokero see weshni kanis. But kek kairescro kanis. Romanis kekker chores lendy.”

Gypsy Truth

“Master, you want me to tell you all the truth,—yes? If it’s a big or a little thing, I’ll tell the truth, so help me God, upon my life! The devil be in my soul if I tell the least lie! And what is it? Did I ever in all my life steal a chicken? and what do the gypsies do with the feathers, because nobody ever saw any near a gypsy tent? Never, sir,—I never stole a chicken; and in all the sixty years that I’ve been on the roads, in all that time I never saw or heard or knew of a gypsy’s stealing one. What’s that you say?—that Petulengro told you yesterday that he carried a gun to kill chickens! Ah yes, sir,—that is true, too. The man meant in his heart wood chickens [that is, pheasants]. But not domestic chickens. Gypsies never steal them.” 324

Chovihanipen

“Miri diri bībī, me kamāva butidiro tevel chovihani. Kāmāva ta dukker geeris te ta jin kūnjerni cola. Tu sosti sikker mengi sārakovi.”

“Oh miri kamli! vonka tu vissa te vel chovihani, te i Gorgie jinena lis, tu lesa buti tugnus. Sār i chavi tevel shellavrī, te kair a gudli te wūsser baria kánna dikena tute, te shyan i bori foki mérena tute. Awer kūshti se ta jin garini covva, kushti se vonka chori churkni jūva te sār i sweti chungen’ apré, jinela sā ta kair lende wafodopen ta pessur sār lenghis dūsh. Te man tevel sikker tute chomany chovihaneskes. Shun! Vonka tu kamesa pen o dukkerin, lesa tu sār tiro man 325 ta latcher ajafera a manush te manushī lis se. Dé lende o yack, chiv lis drován opā lakis yakka tevel se rakli. Vonka se pash trasherdo yoi tevel pen būti talla jinaben. Kánna tu sos kédo lis sórkon chérus tu astis risser buti dinneli chaia sa tav trūstal tiro āngushtri. Kennā-sig tiri yakka dikena pensa sappa, te vonka tu shan hoïni tu tevel dikk pens’ o puro beng. O pāshno covva mīri deari se ta jin sā ta plasser, te kāmer, te masher foki. Vanka rakli lela chumeni kek-siglo adré lakis mūi, tu sastis pen laki adovo sikerela buti bāk. Kánna lela lulli te safráni balia, pen lāki adovo se tatcho sigaben yoi sasti lel buti sonakei. Kánna lakis koria wena ketenes, dovo sikerela yoi tevel ketni buti barveli rya. Pen sarjā vonka tu dikesa o latch apré lākis cham, talla lakis kor, te vaniso, adovos sigaben yoi tevel a bori rāni. Mā kessur tu ki lo se, ’pré o truppo te pré o bull, pen lāki sarjā o latch adoi se sigaben o boridirines. Hammer laki apré. Te dikessa tu yoi lela bitti wastia te bitti piria, pen lāki trūstal a rye ko se divius pā rinkeni pīria, te sā o rinkeno wast anela kūmi bacht te rinkno mūi. Hammerin te kāmerin te masherin te shorin shan o pāsh o dukkerin. Se kek rakli te kekno mush adré mi duvel’s chollo-tem savo ne se boïno te hunkari pā chomani, te sī tu astis latcher sā se tu susti lel lender wongur. Stastis, latcher sār o rakkerben apré foki.

“Awer miri bibi, adovos sar hokkanipen. Me kamāva buti ta sikker tachni chovihanipen. Pen mandy sī nanei tachi chovahanis, te sā yol dikena.”

“O tachi chovihani miri chavi, lela yakka pensa chiriclo, o kunsus se rikkeredo apré pensa bongo chiv. Buti Yahūdi, te nebollongeri lena jafri yakka. Te cho’hani balia shan rikkerdi pa lākis ankairoben te surri, te adenna risserdi. Vonka Gorgikani cho’hani lena shelni yākka, adulli shan i trasheni.

“Me penava tuki chomani sirines. Vonka tu latchesa o pori te o sasterni krafni, te anpāli tu latchesa cuttor fon papiros, tu sastis chin apré lis sār o pori savo tu kamesa, te hā lis te tu lesa lis. Awer tu sasti chin sār tīro noko rātt. Sī tu latchessa pāsh o lon-doeyav o boro matcheskro-bar, te o puro curro, chiv lis keti kan, shunesa godli. Tevel tastis kana pordo chone peshela, besh sar nangi adré lakis dūd hefta ratti, te shundes adré lis, sarrāti o gudli te vel tachodiro, te anpāle tu shunesa i feris rakerena sig adosta. Vonka tu keresa hev sār o bar adré o mulleskri-tan, jasa tu adoi yeck ratti pāsh a waver te kennā-sig tu shunesa sā i mūlia rakerena. Sorkon-chirus penena ki lovo se garrido. Sastis lel o bar te risser lis apré o mulleskri-tan, talla hev si kédo.

“Me penāva tūki apopli chomani cho’haunes. Le vini o sar covva te suverena apré o pani, pā lenia, pā doeyav. Te asar i paneskri mullos kon jivena adré o pani rakkerena keti pūveskri chovihanīs. Si manūsh dikela pāno panna, te partan te diklo apré o pani te lela lis, adovo sikela astis lel a pireni, o yuzhior te o kushtidir o partan se, o kushtidir i rakli. Sī latchesa ran apré o pani, dovo sikela sastis kūr tiro wafedo geero. Chokka or curro apré o pāni penela tu tevel sig atch kāmelo sar tiri pīreni, te pireno. Te safrāni rūzhia pā pāni dukerena sonaki, te pauni, rupp, te loli, kammaben.”

“Kána latchesa klisin, dovo se būti bacht. Vonka haderesa lis apré, pen o manusheskro te rakleskri nav, te yān wena kamlo o tute. Butidir bacht sī lullo dori te tav. Rikker lis, sikela kushti kāmaben. Man nasher lis avrī tiro zī miri chavi.”

“Nanei, bibi, kekker.”

Witchcraft327

“My dear aunt, I wish very much to be a witch. I would like to enchant people and to know secret things. You can teach me all that.”

“Oh, my darling! if you come to be a witch, and the Gentiles know it, you will have much trouble. All the children will cry aloud, and make a noise and throw stones at you when they see you, and perhaps the grown-up people will kill you. But it is nice to know secret things; pleasant for a poor old humble woman whom all the world spits upon to know how to do them evil and pay them for their cruelty. And I will teach you something of witchcraft. Listen! When thou wilt tell a fortune, put all thy heart into finding out what kind of a man or woman thou hast to deal with. Look [keenly], fix thy glance sharply, especially if it be a girl. When she is half-frightened, she will tell you much without knowing it. When thou shalt have often done this thou wilt be able to twist many a silly girl like twine around thy fingers. Soon thy eyes will look like a snake’s, and when thou art angry thou wilt look like the old devil. Half the business, my dear, is to know how to please and flatter and allure people. When a girl has anything unusual in her face, you must tell her that it signifies extraordinary luck. If she have red or yellow hair, tell her that is a true sign that she will have much gold. When her eyebrows meet, that shows she will be united to many rich gentlemen. Tell her always, when you see a mole on her cheek or her forehead or anything, that is a sign she will become a great lady. Never mind where it is, on her body,—tell her always that a mole or fleck is a sign of greatness. Praise her up. And if you see that she has small hands or feet, tell her about a gentleman who is wild about pretty feet, and how a pretty hand brings more luck than a pretty face. Praising and petting and alluring and crying-up are half of fortune-telling. There is no girl and no man in all the Lord’s earth who is not proud and vain about something, and if you can find it out you can get their money. If you can, pick up all the gossip about people.”

“But, my aunt, that is all humbug. I wish much to learn real witchcraft. Tell me if there are no real witches, and how they look.”

“A real witch, my child, has eyes like a bird, the corner turned up like the point of a curved pointed knife. Many Jews and un-Christians have such eyes. And witches’ hairs are drawn out from the beginning [roots] and straight, and then curled [at the ends]. When Gentile witches have green eyes they are the most [to be] dreaded.

“I will tell you something magical. When you find a pen or an iron nail, and then a piece of paper, you should write on it with the pen all thou wishest, and eat it, and thou wilt get thy wish. But thou must write all in thy own blood. If thou findest by the sea a great shell or an old pitcher [cup, etc.], put it to your ear: you will hear a noise. If you can, when the full moon shines sit quite naked in her light and listen to it; every night the noise will become more distinct, and then thou wilt hear the fairies talking plainly enough. When you make a hole with a stone in a tomb go there night after night, and erelong thou wilt hear what the dead are saying. Often they tell where money is buried. You must take a stone and turn it around in the tomb till a hole is there.

“I will tell you something more witchly. Observe [take care] of everything that swims on water, on rivers or the sea. For so the water-spirits who live in the water speak to the earth’s witches. If a man sees cloth on the water and gets it, that shows he will get a sweetheart; the cleaner and nicer the cloth, the better the maid. If you find a staff [stick or rod] on the water, that shows you will beat your enemy. A shoe or cup floating on the water means that you will soon be loved by your sweetheart. And yellow flowers [floating] on the water foretell gold, and white, silver, and red, love.

“When you find a key, that is much luck. When you pick [lift it] up, utter a male or female name, and the person will become your own. Very lucky is a red string or ribbon. Keep it. It foretells happy love. Do not let this run away from thy soul, my child.”

“No, aunt, never.”