The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1897-09-06
A ROMANY WIFE.


thatoh rooted cottage standing on the bor-
der of Suffolk heath a woman sat alone
by the side of q wood fire which gave out
the only light that relieved the gathering
! gloom of winters night. The occasional
CLEANS that lit up the walls Whefs an nm
burned branch fell am id the rudy embers
revealed that the room was sparsely fur
nished with cheap new chairs and table
such would be within the means of pur-
chase of laboring man who found regu-
lar employment in the farmyard and the
fields.
The incongruity of taste displayed in
the furnishing of the room was emphasized
by the presence there of the woman her
self. A glance at her was sufficient to
compel the conclusion that she was as cut
of the place in that weather worn cottage
as was the newly bought furniture, the
oontiguity of which she was trying to iR-
more. There was something in the xpres-
sion of her face when the freight fell on
it that suggested some captive creature
looking out through prison bars the
scene of it's vanished freedom. 1t was q
swarthy face and hard one, but the dark
eyes, with pupils scarcely contracted by
the dim light, were restless and revealed
faculty for fierce pleasure and pain that
nothing else about her betrayed. A nass
of dark hair was gathered closely about
her head without hint of any attempt
at adornment, and her dress was that of a
work in the fields, but neither her attire
nor the fashion in which her hair was
done could hide the fact that the woman
was of Romany blood unmixed with any
alien strain.
1t had been a stormy day, and all
through the daylight hours the sky had
been obscured by a murky cloud wrack
which came up from the westward and
swept swiftly over the brown heath and
out over the gray sea. Sitting silent and
/ alone, the woman could still hear the wind
wailing through the ragged fir ridge that
bordered the heath.
She was thinking of the life she had
abandoned, of the time when, with the
Ronany folk of her tribe. she had en-
camped on the heath under the shade of
| the very frs which were now spreading
| their dusky boughs Eeaward before the
storm. Some of the gypsies were camped
! there that night, but none OF them had
| come to see her. They looked upon her as
| an outcast unworthy CT intercourse with
her tribe Only Reuben Lee" Watcher
Lee," as the keepers called him-had had
a word to say to her. Her mother had re-
fused to open the door of her van when
she knocked for admission-she had seen
her close it as she crossed the heath-and
when she had looked back she turned
away her sister Elvira Lad laughed mock
ingly at her from the steps of her hus-
bands van. Almost blind with rage and
: 10OrCl1c0b 1OD, S00 OuQ S6uIDUASQ dSdIDSO
Reuben near her cottage gate, and he had
asked what allied her Was she not happy
with house dwelling husband? Didn't
the gorgio treat her well? Was she tired
of living the respectable life of plow
drivers wife? Did she wish herself back
among the rascally, rowing crew who
cheated servant girls out of their wages
and swindled farmers into buying worth
less CRIES? Reuben had been in Yorkshire
when she ran away from the camp and
! married the slow witted farmers man,
| who was smitten with her dark eyes and
! saucy looks, but her people had evidently
told him Ill about her; for did he not fling
back her very words in her teeth? But
/ then he had seen how his words hurt her,
/ for he had changed his tone and spoken to
her softly, begging her to leave the life for
! which she conld have little liking and take
up again the old free, rowing ways.
| A defiant rood had come upon her as
! she listened 20 his bitter words, but it had
been hard to resist him when he spoke ten
! derby and gave utteranee to thoughts that
had often of ;ate come to her as she sat in
! the dusk alune. Night after night the
craving for the old life had seized her.
Each time ib had gained a herceT hold,
| and she knew what the end must be. And
now again she asked herself what was she
| doing among the fettered house jewellers
| of poverty stricken hsmlet-she who was
| of the pure Remany blood and to whom
| freedom to wander where she willed WINS
the very breath of life. How could she
let herself be chained to the hearth side of
boorish laborer, who kept her there be-
cause she WAS able to cook his food and
mend his clothes? She had come to him
in at of pique after a quarrel with her
people, and he had been only too glad to
have her for her handsome face.
Something that sounded like the tapping
of fingers at the window at length aroused
the woman, and she opened the door and
looked out into the night The force of
the wind as it swept into the room drove
her back for a moment, and she was
/ Obliged to cling to the door for support,
but it seemed to awaken her from her
reverie, and she stretched out her arms and
drew in deep breaths of the chill night air.
How good it wasl The smell of the earth
and of autumn's fallen leaves seemed to
come with it from the fields and coverts
beyond the heath. There was the camp
fire, too, still burning under the shelter of
the ridge. Surely she could smell the
| smoke of the snolderirg twigs; dark
! shadow obscured the Pickering flames, and
she knew that one of the men was seeing
I that the horses were safe for the night.
! The gypsies were starting for the south in
/ the early morning-Reuben had told her
/ that-and they would not return to Suffolk
| till next summer. They were free to go
| where they pleased, but she
Half an hour later the cottage door
| again opened aud the woman stole quietly
! out into the darkness. She paused on the
threshold and gave a glance backward
toward the table, where her husbands
supper was laid and the lamp was now lit.
By its light it could be seen that she had
put on dress of ruby velvet-it was the
one she had worn when she IA away from
the camp-and her shoulders were wrapped
about with a bright colored shawl. She
had put on, too, velvet trimmed hat,
such as the Romany girls favor, and it's
large gray feather blew about in the wind.
Her hair hung down in glossy black