The Boudoir No. 3

ADVENTURES AND AMOURS OF A BARMAID A SERIES OF FACTS

(Continued from page 61)

London was not speedily reached in those days, and singularly fortunate were the individuals who could gain the metropolis without some little adventure. It was not the lucky fate of our heroine to miss a little affair which served at least to break the monotony of the journey. Soon after the incident related in our last chapter a party of gypsies were encountered, who encamped by the road side, presented a most picturesque appearance. Over sparkling fires pots were hung, and anyone near enough could sniff the fragrant flavour which rose from them, none the less grateful to the olfactory organ because the chickens which were cooking were stolen.

"Of all things in the world," said Polly, "I have dearly longed to spend a night in a gypsy camp."

"Don't talk of spending," said her companion; "it brings to my mind too keenly my disappointment. But it is a strange whim of yours, and stranger still that I have for years entertained the same notion. It shall be done! Gypsies are strange people, there may be some fun to be had with them. I don't know about stopping the night. We will at least make their acquaintance."

It has already been stated that our fair heroine and the barrister were the only occupants of the coach, no other passengers then could be inconvenienced by delay. A present to the coachman and post-boy soon overcame their scruples; their ready wit could easily invent some lie to account for the delay to their masters, and so the matter was quickly arranged; the coach was stopped, and young Capias (for so our barrister was called) and Polly approached the gypsies.

For a moment the natural timidity of her sex made Polly shrink from the swarthy figures they were approaching, the next moment she was reassured, for a young girl, with eyes black as night, hair dark and glossy as a raven's wing, and a scarlet shawl showing off her lithe figure, approached her.

"Tell your fortune, fair lady?" said she. "Can the gorjio lady stop to have her fortune read; the gypsy girl will tell truly what the stars foretell."

"You have just hit it, my girl," said Capias; "tell the lady her fortune. Show us into one of your tents, and as bright a guinea as ever carried King George's head shall be yours."

Thrusting aside the curtain of a tent, Mildred, the darkeyed girl, led them into the interior. A great fire smouldered in the centre, the air of the tent was warmed and even perfumed by its smoke. A bed of heath and soft moss was in one corner of the tent, and being spread over with a rich scarlet shawl, it looked a couch which a gipsey queen would not disdain to employ as the scene of a sacrifice to Priapus.

Needless to repeat the pretty phrases which Mildred poured into Polly's willing ears. How she promised her all sorts of good things in the future, and then, with a meaning look at Capias, slipped out of the tent, so taking care that Polly should have a good thing in the present.

Before many minutes had elapsed the coy lady was spread upon the heath couch, and Capias was duly "entering an appearance" in a court in which he had not practised before; but which, as there was no "bar" to his "pleading," he contrived to make a very sensible impression. His few "motions" were rewarded with a verdict of approval; his "attachment" was pronounced a valid one, and soft caresses, murmured thanks, and close endearments rewarded him for his successful issue into the "court of love."

It did not take long to remove from their flushed cheeks and disordered dress the evidence of the encounter, and Polly and Capias issued into the open air to meet Mildred and reward her for her considerate attention.

The sounds of singing and revelry from a large tent well lit next attracted our lawyer's attention, and thereto he went.

Around a large fire was seated a group which might well have employed the brush of Murillo or Rembrandt. The luscious leer on the faces of the men and women showed how keenly they were enjoying a highly spiced song of one of the company; and the right hand of most of the men, being hid in the folds of the drapery of the women, gave evidence of a desire to practically realize some of the stanzas.

A bold-looking, bronze-faced youth was singing, and the following verses give a fair example of his song:

Oh merry it is when the moon is high

To chase the red, red, dear;

And merry it is when no keeper's nigh

To trap and to snare without fear.

But better I ween is a night with my queen, To lie in the arms of my love;

And to spend my sighs on those breasts I prize, For a joy all others above.

Then here's to the thing that each woman doth wear, Though we cover it up with our hand;

Its forest is hair, but still I swear, 'Tis better than acres of land.

I've sipped red wine from a golden cup,

I've handled the guineas bright,

But a sweeter draught from my Chloe I'll sup, Her eyes give a brighter light.

Fd sooner taste the nectar sweet,

That flows from her ripe red.

Than I'd put to my lip the beaker's tip,

Though with Burgundy filled to the brim.

Then while I've a soul I'll go for that hole,

It gives me the greatest joy;

My pulses beat with a fevered heat

Whilst I my jock employ.

And when I'm dead lay under my head

A tuft of her fragrant hair,

In the silent land it will make me stand As if my love were there.

Then shout and sing for that glorious thing, That each one loves so well;

Keep me out of my meat, then heaven's no treat, I'd rather have Chloe in hell.

Capias listened, so did Polly, with mixed feelings to this very irreverent song, but the night was wearing on, and they had some thought of the long journey before them.

Mildred approached Capias with a smile, and said — "The gorjio gentleman will not stop long in the gypsy's tent. Only let the gentleman be generous, and Mildred will show him and the lady a rare sight."

Capias was generous, and Mildred quietly led the way to a tent some little distance off.

"Step lightly," said she. "There are two of our people; they have eaten bread and salt to-day — they are now man and wife. Would you like to see the joys of their wedding night?"

Of course an affirmative answer was soon given, and Capias and Polly were led to a hole in the canvas wall, and witnessed the following curious scene. (Continued on page 158) A priest who should have read "the devil was a liar from the beginning," read "the devil was a lawyer from the beginning."