The record-union., 1894-04-07

Even the chauvies came about him
looking their childish sympathy from
their big and wondering eyes, and the
old tinker's hand more than once rested
| lovingly upon some tiny, frOWSy head
with pattings and caressings, as he re-
membered the hours when he had been
their Joyous butfoon and playmate
guide.
While the preparations were going on
! the Chief called Bob aside and counted
out some coin. A portion was in yellow
pieces, but the most was in silver. Sep
arating the money into equal parts, he
gave one share to the tinker and put the
other into leather wallet. remarking:
This is for Gotta, Bob. She'll git it all
at her wedding"
"We'en she's married, she'll git fui
more than that" Bob answered with
flashing eyes.
The Chief gave him puzzled look, but
left him and soon returned with guam
tity OF food and an old shoe filled with
rice. He gave the tinker the food and
stood holding the shoe in his hand as he
watched the men at their work.
The old donkey had been harnesSed
and hitched to its cart. The tent had
been taken down, carefully folded. and
Bob's bedding put with it III the rickety
vehicle. A crooked iron kettle stick,
most priced of all genuine gypsy's pos
| sessions, and some pots and kettles fol-
lowed. Then the little forge and the
tinker's wheel were put in place and were
well secured with ropes.
This done, Bob Stanley took his donkey
| by the bridlebit and started to leave the
camp. He came back quickly and i'm
pulsively, gathered few gypsy children
in his arms, one by one, Rugged them to
his shaggy old breast and kissed them
nrl hn cnH from fD
man bidding them each good-by, started
for his donkey's head again, but turned
| before he had reached it, and, after a big
! gulp as II 10 conquer his emotion, said,
feelingly, to the silent, tawny throng:
Lads an men, all: never done one
o. We wrong, beknoWnst, not one. If ye
e'er had likin' fur OF Bob Stanley, an it
bides wiz ye little Wen Pm gone, jess
! jess make it as easy an conf table as We
kin fur Gotta, back thar wP th' women
folk. An that's all Hive got t. ask o.
| livin' Creetur Oh yearth!"
The good-bys were subdued which fol-
lowed him, for Chief Reynolds walked
beside him down the dusty road.
They trudged along in silence for a
mile or more, when the tinker's compan-
ion stopped and spoke:
Bob, Hi must go back now. Hus'Il
break camp at noon Iur til, White Noun
tains fur tn summer. Keep straight on
yerseP towards Portland
They were standing midway between
the hamlets of Dingley's and Raymond
on the old coach road, leading past the
romantic Lake Sebago over the New
Hampshire Mountains to the Canadian
border.
Hits like putin away my own
brother, Bob, but ye knows bein' true
gypsy is llvin' up to gypsy laws"
II ere the Chief tlUnU tho rIca from ba
old shoe over Bob, his donkey and his
cart for kindly good luck, and tossed
the shoe into the cart beside the forge and
wheel. Bob shook the grains from his
clothing resentfully and looked Chief
Reynolds squarely in the face.
eff bein' gypsy" said he solemnly. sis
bein' beast enough t. STAN by am see a
gals heart a-breakin', like Cetta's, with
out raisin' hand, then Hi prays every
drop o. blood in my body this minute
| turns Gorgio, an stays sich t. th' end o.
my raj life''
He raised his hand as if taking oath
while say in this, and, without further
word the men parted, each going his diff
| ferent way.
Gypsy, though he was, tinker Bob
could not but realize the tremendous
change that few hours had wrought in
his affairs. Merry hearted, kind and
! true, life had previously brought the Ro-
many wanderer few stormy DAYS or
scenes. He was now an outcast of out
casts! The sky above him was as full as
ever of sunshine, the pine trees beside
the roadway still held all their weird and
| tender threnodies, the thrill of ioy had
not left the voices of the birds, but all
these blessed things to the nature-loving
heart within his shaggy breast were now
raylesS, irresponsible and still. The
world had suddenly grown voiceless and
dark about him, and he trudged along
over hill and through valley. beneath the
whispering pines, with but the one
piteous cry from his heart, inaudibly
| breaking upon his set and quiYering
! lips Of
'Oh, Cetta-darter Gotta! oh. Ted, my
! Gorgio friendp'
Not infrequently in this life of ours the
/ true-heart prayer is speedily and happily
answered.
| At Raymond hamlet is an ancient tav-
ern where Hawthorne, when a Joyous
/ country lad, daily lounged and waited
for the coming of the mailcoach from old
! Portland by the sea.
! Still daZed and spiritless Bob came with
! donkey and cart beneath the shadows OF
/ the gabled inn and sank down upon the
/ ground TO think a while and rest. The
! tinker dozed for little and his donkey
nibbled at the grass beside him but tn
| gypsy was soon awakened by voices
/ from the parlor window of the inn above
/ his head. He could also hear Leroy. the
! stable boy of the Raymond Tavern, chat
! tering in stable-boy fashion, to horses
standing by the inn porch, just around
/ the corner, with the stamping of the
horses feet and the jingling of their har-
ness, as the animals fretted impatiently
for the stable or the road.
''If you're quite sure it's Reynolds
I I toe. NJ 81, i
/ of the voices anXiously, Il may wish to
! remain here at your fine old tavern for
| several days"
"Well. Mr.. Northup," replied bland
| old lady, "a body can't be sure of emmy
thing these days, and gypsies in partic' lar
/ My, but amt they a passed. of vaga-
| bonds, thought
mot all. Mrs. Smith; not all. There
are two gypsies in that band as true and
right as any Christian folk ever born and
bred"
my! Hope you amt set on them
pesky gypsy gals?" returned Mrs. Smith
polishing and readjusting her spectacles
with kindling interest.
'sOnly one of them," was the laughing
reply.
''Should think the likes O. you could
| find a sweetheart round Bosting er Ne W
| York I've heerd there's thousands ju ST
perishin' for men. You must be clean
! gone crazy!"
mot thousands, Mrs. Smith; hundreds
| of thousands. But numbers don't max e
! love. Besides, no man is crazy who
knows what he wants in this world, and
then never turns to the right or the left
until he gets it."
THAT lasts jest exactly what my man
said when he was courtin' me, forty year