"So I was, and you a tall young slip of about twenty; well, how did
you come to jin mande?"
"Why, I knew you by your fighting mug - there ain't such another
mug in England."
"No more there an't - my old father always used to say it was of no
use hitting it for it always broke his knuckles. Well, it was kind
of you to jin mande after so many years. The last time I think I
saw you was near Brummagem, when you were travelling about with
Jasper Petulengro and - I say, what's become of the young woman you
used to keep company with?"
"I don't know."
"You don't? Well, she was a fine young woman and a vartuous. I
remember her knocking down and giving a black eye to my old mother,
who was wonderfully deep in Romany, for making a bit of a gillie
about you and she. What was the song? Lord, how my memory fails
me! Oh, here it is:-
"'Ando berkho Rye cano
Oteh pivo teh khavo
Tu lerasque ando berkho piranee
Teh corbatcha por pico.'"
"Have you seen Jasper Petulengro lately?" said I.
"Yes, I have seen him, but it was at a very considerable distance.
Jasper Petulengro doesn't come near the likes of we now. Lord! you
can't think what grand folks he and his wife have become of late
years, and all along of a trumpery lil which somebody has written
about them.
