as a crime.  Suddenly the judge attacked him with the words—­“Tu hal rom, me hom, rakker tschatschopenn!”—­“Thou art a Gipsy, I am a Gipsy, speak the truth.”  And Charles, looking up in amazement and seeing the black hair and brown face of the judge, verily believed that he was of the blood of Dom.  So crossing his arms on his breast in true Oriental style, he salaamed deeply, and in a submissive voice said—­“Me hom rom”—­“I am a Gipsy.”

The judge did not abuse the confidence gained by his little trick, since he appears to have taken Charles under his wing, employed him in small jobs (in America we should say chores, but the word would be frightfully significant, if applied to a Gipsy), {75} and finally dismissed him.  And Charles replied Rommanesquely, by asking for something.  His application was as follows:—­

GERMAN GIPSY.

“LICHTENBERG ANE DESCHE OCHDADO, Januar 1859.

“LADSCHO BARO RAI,—­Me hunde dschinawe duge gole dui trin Lawinser mire zelle gowe, har geas mange an demaro foro de demare Birengerenser.  Har weum me stildo gage lean demare Birengere mr lowe dele, de har weum biro gage lean jon man dran o stilibin bri, de mangum me mr lowe lender, gai deum dele.  Jon pendin len wellen geg mander.  Gai me deum miro lowe lende, naste pennene jon gar wawer.  Brinscherdo lowe hi an i Gissig, o baro godder lolo paro, trin Chairingere de jeg dschildo gotter sinagro lowe.  Man weas mr lowe gar gobe dschanel o Baro Dewel ani Bolebin.  Miro baaro bargerbin vaschge demare Ladschebin bennawe.  O baro Dewel de pleisserwel de maro ladscho sii i pure sasde Tschiwaha demende demaro zelo Beero.  De hadzin e Birengere miro lowe, dale mangawa me len de bidschin jon mire lowe gadder o foro Naile abbi Bidschebasger wurtum sikk.  Gai me dschingerdum ab demende, hi gar dschadscho, gai miri romni hass mando, gowe hi dschadscho.  Obaaro Dewel de bleiserwel de mange de menge demaro Ladscho Sii.  Miero Bargerbin.  De me dschawe demaro gandelo Waleddo.

CHARLES AUGUSTIN.”

TRANSLATION.

“LICHTENBERG, January 18, 1859.

“GOOD GREAT SIR,—­I must write to you with these two or three words my whole business (gowe, English Gipsy covvo, literally ‘thing,’) how it happened to me in your town, by your servants (literally ’footmen’).  When I was arrested, your servants took my money away, and when I was freed they took me out of prison.  I asked my money of them which I had given up.  They said they had got none from me.  That I gave them my money they cannot deny.  The said (literally, known) money is in a purse, a great piece, red (and) old, three kreutzers, and a yellow piece of good-for-nothing money.  I did not get my money, as the great God in heaven knows.  My great thanks for your goodness, I say.  The great God reward your good heart with long healthy life, you and your whole family.  And if your servants find my money, I beg they will send it to the town Naila, by the post at once.  That I cursed you is not true; that my wife was drunk is true.  The great God reward your good heart.  My thanks.  And I remain, your obedient servant,