Millionaires have no rest at all. No sitting under a tree by the
fire smoking a pipe."
"And no hedgehogs," said Gregory.
"No--no hedgehogs. Nothing but butcher's meat that costs its weight in
gold. Take my advice, young gents," said the gipsy, "and never envy
anybody."
Meanwhile the others were very happy by the Slowcoach fire. The gipsy
woman, hugging her baby, kept as close to Janet as if she were a spaniel.
Their name was Lee, she said, and they made baskets. They lived at Reading
in the winter and were on the road all the rest of the year. The young boy
was her brother. His name was Keziah. Her husband's name was Jasper. The
baby's was Rhoda.
Hester was very anxious to ask questions about kidnapping, but she did not
quite like to, and was, in fact, silent.
The gipsy woman noticed it after a while, and remarked upon it. "That
little dark one there," she said; "why doesn't she speak?"
Janet said something about Hester being naturally quiet and thoughtful.
"Oh, no," said the woman, "I know what it is: she's frightened of me. She's
heard stories about the gipsies stealing children and staining their faces
with walnut juice; haven't you, dearie?"
Hester admitted it.
"There," said the woman, laughing triumphantly.
Pages:
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194