They tell fortunes, and they make all sorts of queer
things that people like to buy; lace, and bead things. And I suppose up
here they sell all sorts of souvenirs, too; baskets, and things like
that."
"Don't they have any real homes, Bessie?"
"No; except in their wagons. They live in them all the time, and they
always manage to be where it's warm in the winter. They don't care where
they go, you see. One place is just like another to them. They never
have settled in towns. They've been wanderers for ages and ages, and
they have their own language. They know all sorts of things about the
weather, and they can find their way anywhere."
"How do you know so much about them, Bessie, if you never saw anything
of them when you were in Hedgeville?"
"I read a book about them once. It's called 'Lavengro,' and it's by a
man who's been dead a long time now; his name was Borrow."
"What a funny name! I never heard of that book, but I'll get it and read
it when I get home. It tells about the gypsies, you say?"
"Yes.
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