As we approached, a gipsy girl, with a pair of fine, roguish eyes,
came up, and, as usual, offered to tell our fortunes. I could not but
admire a certain degree of slattern elegance about the baggage. Her
long black silken hair was curiously plaited in numerous small braids,
and negligently put up in a picturesque style that a painter might
have been proud to have devised.
Her dress was of figured chintz, rather ragged, and not over-clean but
of a variety of most harmonious and agreeable colours; for these
beings have a singularly fine eye for colours. Her straw hat was in
her hand, and a red cloak thrown over one arm.
The Oxonian offered at once to have his fortune told, and the girl
began with the usual volubility of her race; but he drew her on one
side, near the hedge, as he said he had no idea of having his secrets
overheard. I saw he was talking to her instead of she to him, and by
his glancing towards us now and then, that he was giving the baggage
some private hints. When they returned to us, he assumed a very
serious air. "Zounds!" said he, "it's very astonishing how these
creatures come by their knowledge; this girl has told me some things
that I thought no one knew but myself!" The girl now assailed the
general: "Come, your honour," said she, "I see by your face you're a
lucky man; but you're not happy in your mind; you're not, indeed, sir;
but have a good heart, and give me a good piece of silver, and I'll
tell you a nice fortune.
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