LIFE OF THE GIPSIES.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 19904, 25 September 1926, Page 9

LIFE OF THE GIPSIES.

HOLIDAY AT ROMANY CAMP THE JUDGMENT OF “GRAN.” SLEEPING UNDER THE STARS. There are gipsies and gipsies—the real delightful Romany’s and others. A writer in Tit Bite tells his experiences as fob i ows: “X do not recommend tho .others, but if you’ve tried all the ordinary ways of spending a summer holiday, and would welcome something new, then join some Romany’s and become a temporary gipsj. How and where? Where holds no difficulty. If you live in the South of England, and don't wish to go too far afield, write to the chief constable at, say, »»inChester, explain your desire, say who you are, and ask him to put you in touch with a local superintendent, who, in turn, could tell you where a real Romany camp is. There are always several in or on the fringe of the beautiful New Forest. If you prefer the Midlands, write to Warwick; if the North, York. The police know the all-right Romany’s. The latter never give any trouble; they aro too proud. “The how is not quite so easy. iou must go to a recommended camp, explain what you want, and with tact say that vou’ll pay whatever is right. Mention no amount. It may be a pound a week; perhaps thirty shillings; possibly nothing! Your wish stated, you will be judged. Him —the senior male Romany is always thus curiously referred to—will, through half-closed eyes, weigh you up. If his judgment is favourable, you will be passed on to Gran, who may be ninety or a hundred! Her will peer at you until you feel that your very soul is laid bare. She will look at your hand, back and front; she may ask yon to repeat a queer Romany phrase. If you pass, all’s well, and you may join the camp. Outfit ? An old suit, a mackintosh, toothbrush, razor, and a change of linen. Nothing more. “I spent a week with some New Forest Romanys, and liked the free, open air life so much that I am going again. The two vans with their shining brass fittings were spotlessly clean. The utensils of copper and tin shone like mirrors. The bunk beds are immaculate. There were 13 gipsies—Gran, two married couples, two young men of about 25, three girls, a boy of 12, and t\yo lovely babies. All were as brown as berries and as clean as new plates. With the exception of Gran, they were for ever scrubbing themselves. I had to do the same. And that reminds me—take some soap. “I slept under the stars in a hoop slielteron an army blanket, and never slept so well. At night we sat round a fire, talking and smoking. In the daytime—we were up at four o’clock—baskets were plaited, clotfaes-pegs whittled, rush fernstands fashioned. Then came a delightful trek through tho forest, halting at the hamlets to sell the baskets. “Food? Jolly good! The only difficulty was tho absence of knives. Forks and fingers sufficed. Poaching? N'o Romany will enter a copse or a wood after game. But wo had several rabbits, all snared in tile hedge hanks near the camp. The men did some quite legitimate pony dealing. The girls—strong and lithe, with dirk, flashing eyes—made beautiful lace. Gran did nothing but sit and think and smoke ail day.