If he is a tinker, he knows _Kennick_, or cant, or thieves' slang by nature, but the Rommany, which has very few words in common with the former, is the true language of the mysteries; in fact, it has with him become, strangely enough, what it was originally, a sort of sacred Sanscrit, known only to the Brahmins of the roads, compared to which the other language is only commonplace _Prakrit_, which anybody may acquire.
He is proud of his knowledge, he makes of it a deep mystery; and if you, a gentleman, ask him about it, he will probably deny that he ever heard of its existence.

Should he be very thirsty, and your manners frank and assuring, it is, however, not impossible that after draining a pot of beer at your expense, he may recall, with a grin, the fact that he _has_ heard that the Gipsies have a queer kind of language of their own; and then, if you have any Rommany yourself at command, he will perhaps _rakker Rommanis_ with greater or less fluency.

Mr Simeon, in his "History of the Gipsies," asserts that there is not a tinker or scissors- grinder in Great Britain who cannot talk this language, and my own experience agrees with his declaration, to this extent--that they all have some knowledge of it, or claim to have it, however slight it may be.
So rare is a knowledge of Rommany among those who are not connected in some way with Gipsies, that the slightest indication of it is invariably taken as an irrefutable proof of relationship with them.

It is but a few weeks since, as I was walking along the Marine Parade in Brighton, I overtook a tinker.

Wishing him to sharpen some tools for me, I directed him to proceed to my home, and _en route_ spoke to him in Gipsy.