Читать книгу I've been a Gipsying. Rambles among our Gipsies and their children in their tents and vans онлайн

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“Up! a great work lies before you,

Duty’s standard waveth o’er you.

Stretch a hand to save the sinking

Carried down sin’s tide unthinking.”

“The pangs of hell,” as the Rev. C. H. Spurgeon says in the Christian Herald, March 31, 1880, “do not alarm them, and the joys of heaven do not entice them” to do their duty. With tears of blood I would say, Oh that the voice of Parliament and the action of the Government were seen and heard taking steps to educate the poor gipsy children, so that they may be enabled to read and repeat prayers—even if their parents have lost parental regard and affection for their own offspring.

The business of the day was now over, and it was evident that the time had arrived for “paying off old scores.” The men and women had begun to collect together in groups. Murmurings and grumblings were heard. The tumult increased, and presently from one group shouts of “Give it him, Jock” were echoing in the air, disturbing the stillness of the night. Thumps, thuds, and shrieks followed each other in rapid succession. I closed in with the bystanders. Blood began to flow from the “millers,” who looked murderously savage at each other. Thus they went on “up and down Welsh fashion” for a few minutes, till one gipsy woman cried out, “He’s broken Jock’s nose, a beast him.” The policeman came now quietly along as if his visit would have done on the morrow. One woman shouted out, “Bobby is coming, now it is all over.” To me it looked as if “Bobby” did not like the job of quelling gipsy rows; if he had to quell them it would seem that he had rather they let off some of the steam got up by revenge, spite, and beer before he tackled them.