In every instance he repeated the words after me, and pronounced them correctly, which I had not invariably done.

"Wery fine language.

But it's quite new to me." "You wouldn't think now," I said, affably, "that _I_ had ever been on the roads!" The tinker looked at me from my hat to my boots, and solemnly replied-- "I should say it was wery likely.

From your language, sir, wery likely indeed." I gazed as gravely back as if I had not been at that instant the worst sold man in London, and asked-- "Can you _rakher Rommanis_ ?" (_i.e_., speak Gipsy.) And _he_ said he _could_.
Then we conversed.

He spoke English intermingled with Gipsy, stopping from time to time to explain to his assistant, or to teach him a word.
This portly person appeared to be about as well up in the English Gipsy as myself--that is, he knew it quite as imperfectly.