one (yak), grasni fem. of grai horse (ghora), boro big (bura), lavyor words (lapa speak), gono sackful (gon sack), kel dance (kelna), puch ask (puchhna), râni lady (rāni), churri poor (shor), koko uncle (kaukau).

Russian in-godli tale (golos voice), pukinyus justice of the peace (pokoio pacify), dosta plenty (dostaet it is enough), roker'd talked (rek he said), ruzlos strong (rosluy huge), tamlopen darkness (temnoy dark).

Modern Greek in-chirosor times (kalpòs time), dromyor ways (Spóμos course), zimin soup (Sovμl), pr drinks (rive to drink), paias fun (mail to play), lias you took, from liav to take (λáßes you took), dukeripen fortune-telling (rúxn fortune), kamorros chamber (καμάρα).

Hungarian in-pobo apple (paboy), nav name (nev), pesser'd paid (fizetni pay), sig soon (sieto quick), krallisaïkonez queenly (király king).

Persian in-lollo red (lal), Gorgio gentile (? cojia gentleman), ghere men (kar man), shoondan they heard (shiniden), dai mother (daya nurse), Drabengro Doctor (daru drug).

English in-faino fine, diro dear, foki folk, mai my.

As will be easily understood there is no settled orthography for Romany: it is a spoken language only, and the accent and pronunciation differ in different districts. In the ballad the northern pronunciation is fairly represented, if the general rule be followed of pronouncing the consonants as in English, and the vowels as on the Continent.

D. M.

ROMANI GHILI.*

SHUKER, mi faino rinkno bengi,
Jal sutto miro diro chor,
Me puker 'kova rai yek godli
Avri o purro chirosor.

Beshor ta beshor ghilo, raia,
Adre akova tem akai,
Jivdas 'men laki nogi foki
Yek tacho-bini Romni chai.

Sas mui pensa lollo pobo,

Mui te chumer, prosser, sav,
Yoi pirdas pensa rat'ski grasni,
Ta Vasheti sas laki nav.

A purro Gorgio piriv'd lati,
Boro pukinyus tai sas-lo,
Sas lesti keror, puvor, kottors,
Ta sorkon-kova barvalo.

Yo pesserd ghere puker laki
Sar lavyor Gorginez te pen,
Ta kunjonez te siker lati

O Gorgio's gozvero jinipen.

Sig jindas yoi o chollo gono,
Dias apre pensa rashai,

Ta sor o Gorgio's dromyor hodas

Pens' bauri zimin dova chai.

* The dialect in which this ballad is written is the deep Romany of the north-country Hernes and Boswells.

A GYPSY BALLAD.*

Hush! my pretty imp of Satan:
Go to sleep my own dear son,
Let me tell this Rye a story

Of the times now long agone.

Years and years gone by, my Rya,
Just hard by this very place
Lived a true-born Gypsy maiden
'Mongst the people of her race.

Lips had she like apples rosy,
Lips for kiss or jest aflame.

Like a thorough-bred's her step was-
Vashti was the maiden's name.

And an aged Gentile wooed her,
Mighty magistrate was he,

He had houses, lands, and guineas,
He was rich as rich could be.

Tutors hired he, who could shew her
How to use the Gentile's speech,
And they taught her all the wisdom.
That the Gentiles have to teach.

Quick she learned, read books like parson,
Cleared the whole bagful at a scoop,

All their curious Gentile customs

Swallowed down like good snail soup.

* Shom pazorros ke Drabengro MacAlister for o suggestions of a ghiliengri chivipen adre Gorginez, ta o boro kotor of kalli versari si kek (o kek but) purerdo talla o yekto nongo chivipen so yov komilez bicherdas mandi.

"'Glal mandi romerova tuti
Yek bitti kova mandi del;
Muk mandi yekos dik apopli
A tacho purro Romni kel.

'Dre kavo dui beshor, raia,

Kek kâlo mui me diktom; Puch lendi sor akai te siker Sar faini râni mandi shom."

Kek but o purro rai komdas-les, Nastis yov pendas, "Kek nanai;" Ta dosta Romni chelar avde, Kakrachkinez ke mulo grai.

Adoi, 'dre lesko boro biuros
O Romni-chalé pi ta hâ-
Mai mulo dad! Komova dosta
Mandi shomas odoi konâ.

O rai dikt buino ta tullo;
Krallisaïkonez yoi sas.

Yon roker'd sâlin ketenendi
Trustal o foki yoi jindas.

"Kon si aduva sikermengro
Adre o kelinwardo gad,
'Dre dui diklos, boro skrânyor?"
Yoi savdas, "Miro diro dad."

O paias jald. Yo pucherd lati,
"Kon 'duva hola jâ drovan?"
Yoi pend, "Mai koko, kuremengro;
Kek pendan nashtas yov a dan."

"Ta kon si purri chovihani

So diks jâ wafidez 'pre men?" Yoi pendas, "Miri churri bibi, Tu lias trustal dukeripen."

"Ere our wedding," said the maiden,
"I would fain one boon implore,
'Tis a real old Gypsy dancing,

Let me see one, just once more.

"Two long years have come and gone, sir, Since I saw a swarthy brow,

Bid them all come here, and shew them
What a lady I am now."

Fain the old squire had objected,
But he could not say her nay,
And like carrion-crows the Gypsies
Flocked together to the prey.

There within the lofty chamber
Gypsies ate and drank amain.
By my father's corpse! I would that
Such a day might come again.

Stout and haughty looked the squire,
She was like a queen to view;
Laughing, chaffing, they all chattered
Of the folks that once she knew.

"Who is yonder motley dandy,
With a shirt of strange device,
Double kerchief, spreading boot-tops?"
"'Tis my father dear," she cries.

Sped the fun, again he asked her,
"Who's that gorging without_ruth?”
"'Tis my uncle, sir, the bruiser,

Scarce you'd think he'd lost a tooth."

"Who's that ancient beldame yonder,
Glowers so wickedly?" he said.
"Tis my poor old aunt you locked up,
Telling fortunes is her trade.”