When there’s a boro bavol, huller the tan parl the waver rikk pauli the bor.  When the wind is high, move the tent to the other side of the hedge behind it.

That is to say, change sides in an emergency.

“Hatch apre!  Hushti!  The prastramengro’s wellin!  Jal the graias avree!  Prastee!”

“Jump up!  Wide awake there!  The policeman’s coming!  Run the horses off!  Scamper!”

This is an alarm in camp, and constitutes a sufficiently graphic picture.  The hint to run the horses off indicates a very doubtful title to their possession.

The prastramengro pens me mustn’t hatch acai.

The policeman says we mustn’t stop here.

No phrase is heard more frequently among Gipsies, who are continually in trouble with the police as to their right to stop and pitch their tents on commons.

I can hatch apre for pange (panj) divvuses.

I can stop here for five days.

A common phrase indicating content, and equivalent to, “I would like to sit here for a week.”

The graias have taddered at the kas-stoggus—­we must jal an durer—­the gorgio’s dicked us!

The horses have been pulling at the hay-stack—­we must hurry away—­the man has seen us!

When Gipsies have remained over night on a farm, it sometimes happens that their horses and asses—­inadvertently of course—­find their way to the haystacks or into a good field. Humanum est errare!

Yeck mush can lel a grai ta panni, but twenty cant kair him pi.

One man can take a horse to water, but twenty can’t make him drink.

A well-known proverb.

A chirrico ’dree the mast is worth dui ’dree the bor.

A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush (hedge).

Never kin a pong dishler nor lel a romni by momeli dood.

Never buy a handkerchief nor choose a wife by candle-light.

Always jal by the divvus.

Always go by the day.

Chin tutes chuckko by tute’s kaum.

Cut your coat according to your fancy.  This is a Gipsy variation of an old proverb.

Fino ranyas kair fino trushnees.

Nice reeds make nice baskets.

He can’t tool his kokerus togetherus (kettenus).

He can’t hold himself together.  Spoken of an infirm old man.

Too boot of a mush for his kokero.

Too much of a man for himself; i.e., he thinks too much of himself.

He’s too boot of a mush to rakker a pauveri chavo.

He’s too proud too speak to a poor man.  This was used, not in depreciation of a certain nobleman, whom the Gipsy who gave it to me had often seen, but admiringly, as if such hauteur were a commendable quality.

More (koomi) covvas the well.