human
I know that tramper, said Mr. Harkins in a nervous whisper to Mr. Toosypegs.
gpt
It's the gipsy queen, Ketura, from Yetholm; most wonderful woman that ever was, 'cept Deborah, the woman the Bible tells about, you know, wot druv the nail through the fellar's head when she found him takin' a snooze. Heard a minister take her for his tex' once, and preach all about it. Our cow's name's Deborah, too,
human
And she's a gipsy queen? Lord bless us! exclaimed Mr. Toosypegs, turning round and looking in some alarm at the fixed, stern, dark face before him--like the face of a statue in bronze.
gpt
Does she tell fortunes?
human
Yes; but you'd better not hask her to-night, said Mr. Harkins, in the same cautious whisper.
gpt
Her son's in prison, and sentenced to transportation for life for robbin' the plate of the Hearl De Courcy. He's goin' off with a lot of hothers airly to-morrow mornin'. Now, don't go exclaiming that way;
human
Poor thing! poor thing! said Mr. Toosypegs, in a tone of sympathy.
gpt
Why, it's too bad; it really is, Mr. Harkins.
human
Sarved him right, it's my opinion, said Mr. Harkins, sententiously.
gpt
Wot business had he for to go for to rob Hearl de Courcy, I want ter know? His mother, the hold lady ahind here, went and sot him up for a gentleman, and see wot's come hof hit. She, a hold gipsy queen, goin' and sendin' her son to Heton with hall the young lordses, and baronetses, and dukeses, and makin' believe he was somethin' above the common. And now see what her fine gentleman's gone and done and come to. Wonder wot she'll think of herself, when she sees him takin' a sea voyage for the good of his 'ealth at the 'spense of the government, to-morrow?
human
Poor thing! poor thing!
gpt
Poor hold thing hindeed! said Mr. Harkins, turning up his nose contemptuously.
human
Sarved 'im right, I say ag'in. That 'ere son o' hern was the most stuck-hup chap I ever clapped my two blessed heyes on. Hafter he left Heton, I see'd 'im, one day, in the streets, hand guess who with? W'y, with nobody less than young Lord Williers, honly son o' the Hearl De Courcy, as he has gone and robbed. There's hingratitude for you! I didn't know 'im then; but I 'cognized him hafterward in the court-room hat 'is trial.
gpt
How could _he_ afford to go to Eton--he, a gipsy?
human
Dunno! Hold woman sent 'im, I s'pose--'owever she got the money. He was a fine-looking fellow, too, I must say, though rayther tawny, but 'andsome as Lord Williers himself. Hold Ketura was 'andsome once, too; see'd 'er w'en she was a reg'lar hout-and-hout beauty; though you mightn't think it now. Times changes folks, yer know,
gpt
What made him steal, if his mother was so rich?
human
His mother wasn't rich no more'n I be. S'pose she made enough tellin' fortunes, poachin', and stealin' to pay fur'im at school; hand then when he growed hup, and his cash gave out, he took hand stole the hearl's plate. He denied it hall hat 'is trial; but then they hall do that. By jingo! he looked fierce enough to knock the judge and jury, and all the rest on 'em, hinto the middle hof next week, hif not further, that day. 'Twas no go, though; hand hover the water he goes to-morrow.
gpt
Poor fellow! Mr. Harkins, I'm sorry for him--I really am,
human
Well, hif this ain't good! Wot fools folks is! Sorry for a cove yer never saw! Wonder hif hall Hamericans is as green as you be?
gpt
The Devil Among the Tailors,