I had almost forgotten the
Bible in Spain.
Then came the summer with much heat and sunshine, and then I would lie
for hours in the sun and recall the sunny days I had spent in Andalusia,
and my thoughts were continually reverting to Spain, and at last I
remembered that the Bible in Spain was still unfinished; whereupon I
arose and said: 'This loitering profiteth nothing'--and I hastened to my
summer-house by the side of the lake, and there I thought and wrote, and
every day I repaired to the same place, and thought and wrote until I had
finished the Bible in Spain.
* * * * *
And, as I wandered along the green, I drew near to a place where several
men, with a cask beside them, sat carousing in the neighbourhood of a
small tent. 'Here he comes,' said one of them, as I advanced, and
standing up he raised his voice and sang:--
'Here the Gypsy gemman see,
With his Roman jib and his rome and dree--
Rome and dree, rum and dry
Rally round the Rommany Rye.'
It was Mr. Petulengro, who was here diverting himself with several of his
comrades; they all received me with considerable frankness. 'Sit down,
brother,' said Mr. Petulengro, 'and take a cup of good ale.'
I sat down. 'Your health, gentlemen,' said I, as I took the cup which
Mr. Petulengro handed to me.
'Aukko tu pios adrey Rommanis. Here is your health in Rommany, brother,'
said Mr. Petulengro; who, having refilled the cup, now emptied it at a
draught.
'Your health in Rommany, brother,' said Tawno Chikno, to whom the cup
came next.
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