The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1894-04-08

Mrs Blythe, Mrs Reynolds and Mrs. FAN.
Their toilettes lacked usual attention,
but the determined looks they wore more
than counter balanced any absence of
scrupulousness in their attire. Mrs.
Blythe, who had evidently been selected
to speak the sentiments of the delegation,
held a scrap of paper in her hand. This
she handed with an Official and accuse
tive air to Bob, when the women seated
themselves silently upon fallen log be-
side the tent and gloomily awaited the
effect of its reading upon the tinker.
Gypsy Bob Wharton was no scholar,
but he could write laboriously and could
read, without much stumbling, anything
which ran along smoothly in simple
words; and he was not long in making
ont and fairly understanding these lines:
PATTERAN.
Two tiny hands that nestle within one
OF mine: two dainty, tireless feet;
Two lgstrous eyes; two lips which greet
My own and cling there, never done
Such is my matchless Gypsy sweet!
But raised between my Gorgio blood
And her relentless. mystic race,
wall of hate has set its e,
Which love the king, nor storm nor food
Nor time himself can e'er displace.
All day the sluggish train trails on.
All nigh, the camphres CLEAN like stars.
While swarthy guards, as those in wars,
Hold jealous watch till pale and wan
The night let's down the morning bars.
All day the sluggish train trails on;
But ever fiutter by the way
All, love is faithful night and day.
Sprays OF strewn grass, her patteran
With blue bells and anemone.
All night the campdres pale and fare;
But, true as truth, one loyal light
All, love is faithful day and night
Throbs back and forth our twin heart prayer
And though apart our souls unite!
o priceless passion flower OF East
III follow thee beneath ell 81 i3s
Till, heart to heart, through thy sweet
Though life should ebb in that mad feast,
path shall lead TO paradise.
"Hits poetry" the tinker remarked
quietly. turning the scrap of paper around
and around edgewise, when he had fin
ished its reading.
Hits love poetry, Bob Stanley" re-
torted Mrs. Blythe, coming at once closely
To the object of the delegations visit.
Should ventur' 'twus, Mistress
Blythe" returned Bob meekly, Though
Hi isn't no ways qual'fe T. say"
See here, Bob Stanley, no use o. dodgin'
hus Hi arn't { be trihed with nor de
ceived howsumdever.
There's none smarter than yersep
tween Kirk Yetholm, Scotland, an Texas
in the Blythe family answered Bob
kindly
"Ye old bite" shouted Mrs. Fall saw
agely, give DER meddlin' wi those Cor
gio bings (non-Gypsy devils) -
Mistress Blythe, Hi arn't a meddlin'
wi, EN-. Pears like 'twus you"
Here the deputatlon broke forth into
medley of mutual condolences, inter
mingled with shrill objurgations upon
tinker Bob, which, calm and sunny as
was his nature, seemed to nettle and
rouse him sorely. With both hands deep
in his trousers pockets. he gave his huge
old body a sort Of shuddering rub and
twist and advanced sCowliugly upon the
party with,
See here ladies', Hi aren't given t. vio-
lence an contention, as We all knows.
But wen ye goes agin my own affairs
an my own blood, Hi warns We hits time
10 stop
The Gypsy women were upon their feet
at once.
An Hi warns ye hits Gypsy blood we're
savin':' said Mrs. Boswell threateningly.
Ihar's leila Smythe. she went an mar
ried Gorgio Whar is she3 In her
grave, Bob Stanley"
An Zeb Johnson. he married a Gorgio
gal" continued Mrs Stanley. What's he
Gorgio nor Gypsy They're beggars all r'
An Ellen Wilson" spoke up Mrs.
Reynolds holly, while shaking her skinny
fst IN the tinker face; there's another.
Married strollin' fiddler He's blind
now She's leadin' him round like dog
ne hddlin' an She a beggin' fur a liyin'
Hoo There s enough Of this mixin, An
here; Bob STANLEY, yen give DER yer own
blood the best ROmany blood o. York
shire, Z glib-tongued tramp as can make
verses an, betray Us all in tn books an
papers. Ha' We got no pride left2"
Bob Stanley looked at the women,
glanced hastily over the pleasant camp,
noticed that the chauvies were GREEN
ing towards his tent with childish curl
osity and alarm in their sunny faces, saw
that gypsy men were gathered in excited
groups among the wagons, tents and teth-
cred animals, and felt for the first time in
all his Gypsy life that crushing sense of
utter loneliness which comes from ostra-
cism and hate, however humble and oh
scure may be their victim.
"Whar's Cetta2 Bring her an hus'll
20, - he at last said, sadly. "rhar's many
roads, an room enough fur all Hi doan't
want bad blood WI them that's been my
own, life long"
"Lucrettau not go wi We, Bob Stan
ley!' almost shrieked the Fall woman to
the tinker.
'Lucretta's my darter, Mistress Fall.
She'll not bide wi other'
She's my dead sisters child. an |
warn We she'll bide t the end o. her days
wi her own blood, Bob Stanley"
"Cetta Gotta !" shouted the tinker
sternly. " Ere quick an Wi yer own
tongue say whether ven go or bide!"
mere was no response to this cutlery.
save the taunts Of the women before him.
lie started towards the tent where she
slept at night with the other women hut
him '0N
Not so fast Bob; not so fast:n said
Snlef reynolds, who was at their head.
Go ye back 10 yer tent"
No gypsy ever disobeys the leader of
oand IN the most trifiing particular
s anu BOD was at bay, his daughter re-
strained IN her tent and himself con
M