"Ha, ha!" she screamed, fixing upon me two eyes, which shone like burning coals, and which were filled with an expression both of scorn and malignity; "It is wonderful, is it, that we should have a language of our own?
What, you grudge the poor people the speech they talk among themselves?
That's just like you gorgios, you would have everybody stupid, single-tongued idiots, like yourselves.

We are taken before the Poknees of the gav, myself and sister, to give an account of ourselves.

So I says to my sister's little boy, speaking Rommany, I says to the little boy who is with us, run to my son Jasper, and the rest, and tell them to be off, there are hawks abroad.

So the Poknees questions us, and lets us go, not being able to make anything of us; but, as we are going, he calls us back.

'Good woman,' says the Poknees, 'what was that I heard you say just now to the little boy ?' 'I was telling him, your worship, to go and see the time of day, and, to save trouble, I said it in our own language.' 'Where did you get that language ?' says the Poknees, ''Tis our own language, sir,' I tells him, 'we did not steal it.' 'Shall I tell you what it is, my good woman ?' says the Poknees.