head and beard towering above them, blows and kicks falling upon him from either side like rain, for so quickly was it done that it took them a good minute to realize they were not pommeling each other. That ended the fight. But since then, I have understood Jasper Petulengro better! "Rum animals. . . . Did you ever feel their teeth and nails, brother?"

The other expedition was to the Hampton Races, where I had my one memorable meeting with Matty Cooper, who was then very old, and very drunk, too, I regret to say, but very charming; and where I wore the carnations he presented me, as, at other tournaments, maidens wore the colors of their knights.

From now onward, the Rye did not see so much of the Gypsies. And yet, never at any time, not even when collaborating with Palmer, was he so immersed in Gypsy matters as when, within four years of his return to England, the Gypsy Lore Society was established. There was again a perpetual interchange of letters, an agitation, a fever, an absorption. The Romany Ryes all joined forces. Old grievances were forgotten, old disputes settled, old correspondences renewed.

The credit for founding this society has been given to W. J. Ibbetson, who, in answer to Colonel Prideaux's question in Notes and Queries (October 8, 1887) as to whether any systematic attempt had been made to collect the songs and ballads of English Gypsies, suggested (November 17) that a club of Romany Ryes be formed to collect and publish by subscription as complete vocabularies and collections of ballads in the Anglo-American dialect as might be possible at that date. The matter was taken up by Mr. David MacRitchie, to whom, eventually, fell the work of starting the society. At first the Rye did not respond with enthusiasm. He had proposed just such a society eighteen years before, and the little band of Gypsy scholars then, instead of supporting him, "were very much annoyed (as George Borrow also was) at the ap

pearance of a new intruder in their field."

His first letter on the subject to Mr. MacRitchie from Brighton, February 26, 1888, was rather indifferent. He agreed that there "should be a Romany society to collect what is left of this fast vanishing people," and he was quite willing to join and pay his guinea a year, but there must be no further responsibility, while he urged a greater exclusiveness than Mr. MacRitchie, with a necessary eye to the bank account, thought possible.

The

"I do not insist on anything, but I have possibly had a little more experience than most men in founding or watching such Clubs, and I will therefore give reasons for admitting only men who speak Romany. If such men only join, it will give the Society a marked character. members will be able to do something and to work. A man who don't know Romany may pay his guinea, but of what use will he be? And of what earthly use will his guinea be? To publish our works! Why, if our works are worth printing at all, I can find a publisher who will do it all at his own expense. Now this is a fact. Half the works issued by Societies are rubbish which the writers could not get printed, except by influence. . . .

"I should prefer a small and poor society, but a real one, -even with gypsies in it,to an amateur theatrical company. Pardon me for speaking so earnestly, but I have been so sickened by my experience of clubs in which men were taken in for their money, that I would like to be in one which was real."

His indifference was not quite conquered even when Mr. MacRitchie, early in May, wrote to offer him the highest tribute it was possible for the Romany Ryes to offer.

Crofton and Groome and myself hope that you will also become our President," Mr. MacRitchie tells him. "Before we send a prospectus to others, we must have two or three office-bearers named, and there is no one so well fitted for the Presidentship as yourself. So I hope soon to

hear that you have accepted. We propose that Mr. Crofton be Vice President, and that I be Secretary and Treasurer. Groome has kindly agreed to divide my labours (such as they are), but he firmly declines to appear as Secretary or in any prominent position."

Later, however, Groome did appear as editor of the Journal with Mr. MacRitchie.

"Unless you can get along with my name alone, there will be very little use in proclaiming me as President," is the Rye's answer on May 4. "I am out of London and England or expect to be

most of the time. . . . If my name will help I am willing to let it be used."

Of course his name would help, and so Mr. MacRitchie assured him promptly, and I can see that his indifference began to be shaken, by the interest he took when it came to the question of Romany spelling, which I wish, for my comfort and my readers', had been settled years before.

"Let the word be henceforward written Gypsies with a y," he wrote to Mr. MacRitchie on May 9. "You caused me to write it so. If it comes from Egypt – gypsies is right.

"Seriously, let us come to some agreement as to orthography. Groome writes Ri,—I write Rye after Borrow, because he made Rye known. But I don't like the Kooshty of Smart, nor the forcing Romany words into strict English form. So far as we can make Romany agree with Continental, and especially with Indian pronunciation, we really ought to do so. We had better arrange all this en famille. We can 'rehabilitate' Gypsy without manufacturing, if we will only be unselfish and harmonious."

The society, it is true, lasted only a short time, but while it did last it kept on, to use Mr. MacRitchie's phrase, “booming." In the summer of 1890 came the Folk-Lore Congress in Paris, and the Oriental Congress in Stockholm, and, with them, the occasion to flaunt the scholarship of the Romany Ryes in the face of the world. To the general public,

learned congresses of learned men may seem dull things, but never in the letters of the Romany Ryes. In Paris the president figured as "Directeur de la Gypsylore-Society;" he read a paper to prove that the Gypsies have been "the great colporteurs" of folk-lore, - a phrase Groome later applauded, expanding the theory,―he reported to Mr. MacRitchie, on August 1, 1889:

"Yesterday was a grand day for us. As I said, it has fallen on the Gypsy Lore Society to come to the front and take all the honour of representing England, as the English Folk-Lore Society has not appeared at all in it! . . . In the evening Prince Roland Bonaparte gave an awful swell dinner (Roumanian gypsy musicians and pre-historic menu, etched for the occasion), and as President of the G. L. S. I was seated at the Prince's right hand. . . . At any rate, we have had a stupendous lift, and with energy may do much more. Lord knows that I have tried my little utmost, not without some effect."

In Stockholm, he worked for the society no less hard, but I leave it to his letter to explain the "but," and to throw an unexpected side light on the ways and woes of Orientalists assembled in solemn congress:

"The Swedish Oriental Congress was one hundred times fuller of incident than the Paris one. It was awfully overdone, and turned into a great Oriental Circus,

to its very great detriment as a learned body. We were rushed about and fêted and made a great show of,-until I now loathe the very name of 'banquet,' ‘reception,' the sight of banners or hurrahing thousands, fireworks and processions. We all got tired or fell ill, — half of the Orientalists became 'queer' or irritable,

and then they quarrelled! My God, how they did quarrel!! I kept out of it all, but I am awful glad to get home again."

But despite congresses, despite booming, despite the tremendous interest of

everybody in the society, by February of 1891 the impossibility of a much longer life was realized.

The Journal actually ceased in 1892, and with it all reasons for the existence of the society disappeared. "But the Gypsy question is not played out," Mr. MacRitchie wrote during the last months. "It has no end of things to say for itself yet. I intend pegging away at the Gypsies for a long time to come, though of course avoiding Gypsomania." The Rye, when he was enthusiastic about anything, was never to be outdone in enthusiasm by any one. He, too, kept "pegging away." Before the work of the society was over, he had published his Gypsy Sorcery, a book full of curious information, but concerned less with the Gypsy himself than with Gypsy superstitions. He now promptly undertook a Gypsy Decameron, and finished it, too, with the name changed to Romany Wit and Wisdom, but never got so far as to publish it; the manuscript lies with all his other Gypsy papers, a marvelous collection. He planned a record of the Romany Ryes of Great Britain and their work, "especially to please them," he wrote to me at the time. But they all shrank back, afraid of the critic, and he had to give up the idea.

And the Gypsy still filled his letters. He kept on writing to Mr. MacRitchie, though at longer intervals; he renewed the long interrupted correspondence with Groome; he found a new correspondent in Mr. Sampson, who, when not writing of his wanderings with the Gypsies on Welsh roads, was sending his Romany translations of Heine and Omar Khayyám, and once of Gaudeamus, the Rye having long before made an English version of Scheffel; "we used to sing it around our camp-fire in the evening," Mr. Sampson adds. Nor could the Rye keep the Gypsy out of his letters to me. The almost in

evitable ending of them all is "Tiro Kamlo Koko" (your affectionate Uncle), and, wherever he went, he had Gypsy adventures to report to me, sure of my sympathy. Now it was at the Bagni di Lucca, where "down in the valley I met a band of Piedmontese Gypsies. They denied being Gypsy, and did n't know a word of Romany. Indignantly pointing to the horse, I said, 'How do you call that?' And the answer was 'Grai.' 'Yes,' quoth I, and thou art manusch [man], te adovo se a chava, te me shom o boro Romani Rai' [and that is a boy, and I am a great Gypsy gentleman]. Then we got on very well." Now it was in Geneva, and a French Gypsy woman told him his fortune, and he gave in return " a small shell tied up in leather which was received with boundless gratitude. I also described eloquently the value of the shell as a bringer of bacht" [luck]. Now it was at Innsbrück, where, lonely, without the companionship he always craved, "I met a charming van full of Romanys three days ago, and almost cried for joy.” Now it was at Homburg, the last place to suggest that sort of society, but,—“I met with a real Gypsy family in a beer garden, day before yesterday, and had a gay time." And so it went on to the very last year of his life (the last quotation I give is as recent as 1899).

I have said enough, however, to show what the Gypsies meant to him all his life long, once he got to know them; how much more his interest was than the passing "fad" he never forgave any one for calling it. He loved them as a friend, he studied them as a scholar, and to such good purpose that, when they have vanished forever from the roads, they will still live and wander in the pages of his books. Even if Borrow had never written, the Romany would be immortalized in The English Gypsies and The Gypsies.

IN beginning the consideration of a question which touches the American home in its quickest part, let me be pardoned for saying that I have sat in intelligence offices, my letters of reference in my hand; have passed the scrutiny of the householder seeking a servant; have been engaged as one, and gone into the kitchen or the butler's pantry; that I have had my hours of domestic service and my "days out;" earned and taken my wages; scored my failures and successes, my disappointments and satisfactions. I have experienced the eternal truth that to every question there are two sides.

Until a few years ago the question of domestic service had been set aside as a woman's affair by those endeavoring to solve the world's problems, with the result that it has grown constantly more complex, and the solution more difficult. It never was merely a woman's problem. It was, and it always will be, a part of the great labor problem; and it is recognized also that the character of the problem has been influenced by shifting conditions, economic and social. But granted all this, what are you going to do about it? Though it be the same old labor problem, though its character change with altering of social conditions, whether it hang on the law of supply and demand or be in conflict with the American spirit, here is the situation; and something must be done.

Factories are overwhelmed with applicants for work, sweat shops flourish on cheap and abundant labor, department stores turn away thousands of would-be salesgirls, typewriters are legion, there are more teachers than there are places, and the cry of the unemployed is often heard in the land. Yet households are broken up, cafés glitter, restaurants issue

cheap meal tickets, boarding-houses multiply, and the American home is yearly growing less. because the American housekeeper cannot obtain willing and competent service. In factories are girls who would rather cook, in shops are women who would make good housekeepers; hundreds of typewriters who would make creditable waitresses are reeling off badly spelled words, and many are teaching school who should be doing anything else in the world. The Woman's Educational and Industrial Union of Boston made a systematic effort to attract the workers in shops and factories to domestic service, but with signal failure. From five hundred and sixty-four women who were asked to consider housework, only thirtysix applied, and these were not altogether satisfactory. Their dislike for the work is frankly stated to be on account of the long hours, no evenings for themselves, the isolation from other workers, and the social stigma that attaches to the occupation.

Here we have our dilemma. On one side is wanted work; on the other workers. Is it not possible, is it not reasonable, that these needs should be satisfied each by the other, and that this work and these workers should be brought into contact agreeable and beneficial to both?

The social aspect of domestic service has been changed by the fact that, since 1860, succeeding tides of immigration from various countries have swept over the United States, and the foreigners who replaced the "help" of New England had been fitted neither by birth nor environment for the social equality which had been granted to their predecessors as a matter of course. These newcomers were not "help," they were "servants," and a different appreciation was placed on their

services, a different status given to the employment. This term servant, I believe, has more real effect in deterring American girls from entering household service than any other one thing, operating most unfavorably among just that class of intelligent, capable girls whose help is needed to elevate and dignify the occupation. It is all very well to say that the term servant is a generic one, and that any one working for a cash equivalent under authority is the servant of those whose orders are to be obeyed. That may be true, but socially- and this is the aspect we are considering this term servant has become so restricted to those who perform household service that its ordinary use carries no other signification. The native-born American objects to being placed in any position where there is not at least the semblance of freedom. It would seem to be the most natural thing in the world that when domestic employees have married and have families of their own, good household workers should be found among their children. But they are brought up rather to be anything else, because such parents wish their children to be just as good as or a bit better than anybody's children; whether that to be called "a servant" carries too much of a demeaning implication, or for whatever other reason. One bright girl who was the cook in a home where I was employed, invariably referred to us as "the kitchen mechanics," another always called the maids "us girls," still another "the kitchen people;" and in all association with maids in service, I have never heard them call themselves servants. Furthermore, the occupation is regarded as one affording little opportunity to rise in the world. If fortunate ones have risen, the fact that they have been servants is carefully concealed. The railway millionaire may be proud of the fact that he once peddled peanuts on the train, the bonanza king that he began as the mule driver of an ore car; but what woman will say with pride, "Yes, I once was a cook for Mrs. B, and tried to do my work well"?

To establish a school, and frankly call it one for the training of servants, is distinctly against present tendencies; the name alone would kill it. Train domestic employees, home workers, household aids, just as much as you can, but unless the term servant be left out, possibly even from the signs of employment bureaus, you must combat an unappeasable prejudice. Of the principal of a normal school where an excellent course in cooking was given I asked, "What is the object in taking this course, - is it obligatory?”

"They wish specially to teach cooking, and take it in addition to their regular work."

"What is the object in view in teaching cooking to the children?"

"Simply, madam, to help them make better homes; the aim is to improve the homes."

"But some of these pupils will have to earn their own living; will not these cooking lessons open another avenue of employment?"

"Madam, we are not training servants."

Now as to supply and demand. The ranks of household employees are recruited mainly from the immigrants, but their number is far less than the calls for them. Any girl coming to this country, and willing to take a place as a cook or waitress, can find work three times over the moment she steps on land. We must look for other sources of supply. We must train and educate our own American girls to fill these places, classifying these girls as part of the great labor problem which here demands and should engage concerted effort in its solution. Certainly, as other phases of this general problem have been treated with at least partial success, this specific phase of this same general problem can be treated in like manner. Whatever the individual views as to tradesunionism, its methods, its abuses, or its excesses, are we not all prepared to admit in this day that there must have been certain wrongs, and some justice in the