THE CRY OF THE CHILDREN FROM THE BRICKYARDS OF ENGLAND.  Haughton & Co ., Paternoster Row, London.  Cloth gilt, Illustrated, 3s. 6d. OUR CANAL POPULATION.  Haughton & Co .  Cloth gilt, Illustrated, 3s. 6d. GIPSY LIFE.  Haughton & Co .  Cloth gilt, profusely illustrated, 5s. CANAL ADVENTURES BY MOONLIGHT.  Hodder & Stoughton .  Paternoster Row, London.  Cloth gilt, Illustrated, 3s. 6d....

THE RIGHT HON. LORD ABERDARE. THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF STANHOPE. THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF SHAFTSBURY. THE RIGHT HON. THE MARQUIS OF TWEEDDALE. THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF ABERDEEN. THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF DERBY, K.G. THE RIGHT HON. EARL GRANVILLE, K.G. THE RIGHT HON. THE MARQUIS OF SALISBURY, K.G. THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF HARROWBY. THE RIGHT HON. LORD CARRINGTON. THE RIGHT HON. EARL CAIRNS. THE RIGHT HON. W. E. GLADSTONE, M.P. (First Lord of the Treasury.) THE RIGHT HON. SIR STAFFORD NOR

My strong sympathy with the gipsies and their children would not allow of my following the example of daisy-bank sentimental backwood gipsy writers, whose special qualification is to flatter the gipsies with showers of misleading twaddle to keep them in ignorance; but I have preferred for my country’s welfare the path that has been rough, steep, trying, and somewhat dangerous, and open to the misconception of those little souls who look only at gipsy life through tinted or prismatic spectacles.

For the additional illustrations in this edition I owe my best thanks to Mr. W. Weblyn, the proprietor and art editor of the Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News ; Mr. A. Watson, the literary editor; and also to the Rev. Edward Weldon, M.A., who accompanied me on one of my visits to the gipsies to take the sketches, which appeared with an encouraging and helpful notice on March 1, 1884. I am also much indebted to the Editor of the Pall Mall Gazette for his sketch and valuable help, and also to

Sunday , April 23, 1882, opened with a wet morning.  The clouds were thick and heavy.  The smoke seemed to hover, struggle and rise again as if life depended on its mounting higher than the patched and broken roofs of London houses.  The rain came down drearily, dribbly, and drizzly.  It hung upon my garments with saturating tendencies, and I really got wet through before I was aware of it.  The roads were very uncomfortable for feet in non-watertight boots.  Umbrellas were up.  Single “chaps,”

After being kept in bed at a friend’s house by pain and prostration for forty hours, it was pleasant to tramp upon the green, mossy sward of Nature in Victoria Park on a bright Easter Monday morning, with the sun winking and blinking in my face through the trees on my way to the station in the midst of a throng of busy holiday-seekers, dressed in their best clothes, with all the variety of colour and fashion that can only be seen on a bank-holiday.  The fashions worn by the ladies ranged from th

Easter Tuesday was cold, disagreeable, and damp.  A London fog was hanging overhead as I turned early out of my lodgings to visit Wanstead Flats gipsy fair.  Between the black fog and the rays of the sun a struggle seemed to be taking place as to which influence should rule London for the day, by imparting either darkness, gloom, and melancholy, or light, brightness, and cheerfulness to the millions of dwellers and toilers in London streets, shops, offices, garrets, cellars, mansions, and palace

In the midst of doubts and perplexities, sometimes inspired with confidence and at other times full of misgivings, and with my future course completely hidden from me as if I had been encircled by the blackest midnight darkness, with only one little bright star to be seen, I mustered up the little courage left in me; and with great difficulty and many tears of sorrow and disappointment, I started by the first train, with as light a load of troubles as possible under the circumstances, to find my

Some men’s lives, it would seem, are decreed by Providence to be spent among the “extremes” of life and the associations of the world.  Some are walking, talking, humming, and singing to themselves of the joys of heaven, the pleasures of the world, and the consoling influences of religion under the bright sunlight of heaven, as they, with light tread, step along to the goal where they will be surrounded with endless joy, where the tears of sorrow, bereavement, and anguish are unknown, and where

I HAD heard much and often about the Boughton Green Fair, and the vast number of gipsies, semi-gipsies, and other tramps, scamps, vagabonds, hawkers, farmers, tradesmen, the fast and loose, riff-raff and respectable, gathered together from all quarters once a year upon this ancient Green for a “fairing.”  Tradesmen and farmers exhibited their wares, live stock, and implements of husbandry; and others set forth their articles of torture, things of fashion, painted faces, “tomfoolery,” and “bosh,”

On Saturday, September 4th, 1882, I found myself travelling southward by the aid of a carrier’s waggon and first, second, and third class railway carriages, surrounded by gentlemen, clergymen, tradesmen, farmers, cattle-dealers, labourers, soldiers, snobs, fops, and scamps, and ladies fat and thin, pretty, plain, reserved, lovable, and smiling; and as we neared London the sleeping, yawning, gaping, and slow movements seemed to be giving way to activity, bustle, restlessness, and anxious looks. 

Hinckley September fair has for many long years been regarded as one of the greatest “screw” fairs in England, and as a place where many gipsies annually gather together to follow their usual and profitable occupation of horse-dealing.  At this fair they buy all the good-looking “screws” they can put their hands upon, and palm and physic them off, temporarily, as sound horses.  They both, as one told me, “make their market” and “make hay while the sun shines” at this fair.  A thorough old “screw

During the Sunday night after my visit to Hinckley I more than once thought that I was about to enter the great unknown and unseen world of Tátto paáni (spirits) from whence no choórodo (tramp) returns. After partaking of a light breakfast of the kind Midúvelesko (Christ) and mongaméngro (beggars) eat, with my Romeni (wife), Racklé (sons), and Raklia (girls) at our plain-fare misáli (table), I began with some of “ our boys and girls ” to wend my way through poous (fields) and by-lanes and over r

“Not all in vain good seed I sow, As up and down the world I go; Scattering in faith the precious grain, And waiting till the sun and rain Of heavenly influence bid it grow.” Rev. Richard Wilton , M.A. Christian Miscellany , October, 1882. Sunday morning, September the 24th, was most lovely and delightful.  The buzzing and darting bats were not to be seen.  They had retired among the ruins of old tumbledown walls, creaking doors, and thatch.  The horrible sneaking rats had crept into their holes

The eleventh of October, one thousand eight hundred and eighty-two dawned upon “Old England” while rain was coming down too drearily, drizzly, and freely for either man or beast to be comfortable.  Foggy, cold, and murky November seemed desirous of making its advent earlier than usual.  Not a songster was to be seen nor an autumnal chirp heard round our dwelling.  Long dark nights had begun to creep over nature.  “The last rose of summer,” the Queen of English flowers, was drooping its head and

Some time ago a gipsy named Shaw was found in a Northamptonshire churchyard at midnight, asleep between the gravestones, with his fiddle by his side.  When awakened by a wandering policeman crying out, “Now then, move on,” gipsy Shaw grunted and growled out, “Who’s there?  What do you want, Mr. Devil?  Wake these others up; they’ve been here longer than me, and when they goes I’ll go, and not till then, Mr. Devil; and so make yourself scarce.”  The policeman saw, and in fact knew, that Shaw was

The 18th of December, 1882, was a bitterly shil (cold) divvus (day), partly frozen ghie (snow) lay several inches on the chik (ground).  The dúvel (sky) was gloomy and overcast as if threatening this doŏvelesto-chairos (world) of ours with a fresh outburst of vénlo (wintry) vengeance.  Not a patrin (leaf) was to be seen upon the rook (tree).  The bával (wind) seemed at times to engage in a chorus of shoolo (whistling) and howling, and other discordant gúdli (noises).  The few linnets, sparrows,

To illustrate more fully the plans I suggest for improving the condition of the canal, gipsy, and other travelling children, and to bring to the surface all the weak as well as the strong points which the working out might reveal, I cannot do better, I think, than introduce my readers to an imaginary large gathering of my friends, with a real object in hand, in one of the Committee rooms at the House of Commons, which list of friends, including Lord Aberdare, Lord Aberdeen, Lord Stanhope, Sir Wi

The following remarks are the substance of a letter I sent to the Right Hon. Earl Aberdare—who has been a friend to the cause I have in hand, and more than kind to myself—on May 24, 1882, in reply to some questions his lordship put to me with reference to some of the details of my plans for properly carrying out the Canal Boats Act of 1877; and as they will apply with equal force to the carrying out of my gipsy plans when my Canal Amending Bill is passed, I deem it right that they should find a

EUPHORION : Studies of the Antique and the Mediæval in the Renaissance.  By Vernon Lee , Author of “Ottilie,” &c.  In 2 vols.  Demy 8vo., cloth extra.  £1 1s. “The book is bold, extensive in scope, and replete with well-defined and unhackneyed ideas, clear impressions, and vigorous and persuasive modes of writing. . . .  Large questions have been scrutinized in a comprehensive spirit, and are treated with both breadth and minuteness, according to the scale of the work.  This will be appa

£ s. d. Epic of Kings.  Edition de Luxe. Artists’ Proofs. signed and numbered.  Parchment 3 0 —  Etchings on India paper, unsigned.   Cloth extra. 2 Euphorion: Studies of the Antique and the Mediæval in the Renaissance.   Two vols. 1 German Life and Literature 12 Epic of Kings.  Pop. ed. Half-Hours with Famous Ambassadors. Robinson Crusoe. Summer.  By Henry D. Thoreau. Thomas Carlyle. Mediations on First Psalm. Amazon, The. Arminius Vambéry. Gladys Fane. Law and the Prophets. Lights in Lands of