Yankee Gypsies | Page 8

whom I had known before. Our
farmhouse was situated in a lonely valley, half surrounded with woods,
with no neighbors in sight. One dark, cloudy night, when our parents
chanced to be absent, we were sitting with our aged grandmother in the
fading light of the kitchen fire, working ourselves into a very
satisfactory state of excitement and terror by recounting to each other
all the dismal stories we could remember of ghosts, witches, haunted
houses, and robbers, when we were suddenly startled by a loud rap at
the door. A strippling of fourteen, I was very naturally regarded as the
head of the household; so, with many misgivings, I advanced to the
door, which I slowly opened, holding the candle tremulously above my
head and peering out into the darkness. The feeble glimmer played

upon the apparition of a gigantic horseman, mounted on a steed of a
size worthy of such a rider,--colossal, motionless, like images cut out of
the solid night. The strange visitant gruffly saluted me; and, after
making several ineffectual efforts to urge his horse in at the door,
dismounted and followed me into the room, evidently enjoying the
terror which his huge presence excited. Announcing himself as the
great Indian doctor, he drew himself up before the fire, stretched his
arms, clinched his fists, struck his broad chest, and invited our attention
to what he called his "mortal frame." He demanded in succession all
kinds of intoxicating liquors; and on being assured that we had none to
give him, he grew angry, threatened to swallow my younger brother
alive, and, seizing me by the hair of my head as the angel did the
prophet at Babylon,(1) led me about from room to room. After an
ineffectual search, in the course of which he mistook a jug of oil for
one of brandy, and, contrary to my explanations and remonstrances,
insisted upon swallowing a portion of its contents, he released me, fell
to crying and sobbing, and confessed that he was so drunk already that
his horse was ashamed of him. After bemoaning and pitying himself to
his satisfaction he wiped his eyes, and sat down by the side of my
grandmother, giving her to understand that he was very much pleased
with her appearance; adding that, if agreeable to her, he should like the
privilege of paying his addresses to her. While vainly endeavoring to
make the excellent old lady comprehend his very flattering proposition,
he was interrupted by the return of my father, who, at once
understanding the matter, turned him out of doors without ceremony.
(1) See Ezekiel viii. 3.
On one occasion, a few years ago, on my return from the field at
evening, I was told that a foreigner had asked for lodgings during the
night, but that, influenced by his dark, repulsive appearance, my mother
had very reluctantly refused his request. I found her by no means
satisfied with her decision. "What if a son of mine was in a strange
land?" she inquired, self- reproachfully. Greatly to her relief, I
volunteered to go in pursuit of the wanderer, and, taking a cross-path
over the fields, soon overtook him. He had just been rejected at the
house of our nearest neighbor, and was standing in a state of dubious
perplexity in the street. He was an olive- complexioned, black-bearded
Italian, with an eye like a live coal, such a face as perchance looks out

on the traveller in the passes of the Abruzzi,(1)--one of those bandit
visages which Salvator(2) has painted. With some difficulty I gave him
to understand my errand, when he overwhelmed me with thanks, and
joyfully followed me back. He took his seat with us at the supper-table;
and, when we were all gathered around the hearth that cold autumnal
evening, he told us, partly by words and partly by gestures, the story of
his life and misfortunes, amused us with descriptions of the
grape-gatherings and festivals of his sunny clime, edified my mother
with a recipe for making bread of chestnuts; and in the morning, when,
after breakfast, his dark sullen face lighted up and his fierce eye
moistened with grateful emotion as in his own silvery Tuscan accent he
poured out his thanks, we marvelled at the fears which had so nearly
closed our door against him; and, as he departed, we all felt that he had
left with us the blessing of the poor.
(1) Provinces into which the old Kingdom of Naples was divided. (2)
Salvator Rosa was a Neapolitan by birth, and was said to have been
himself a bandit in his youth; his landscapes often contain figures
drawn from the wild life of the region.
It was not often that, as in the above instance, my mother's prudence
got the better of her