Little Sayings

What must I do, mother, to make you well?

It is my God’s doing, and we can’t help at all.

* * * * *

My God above, look down upon me!

If I could get hold of you, I would slay you.

Thou hast done well.

That is a fine thing, you bloody dog, if it were mine.

The Bow-street runner swore falsely.

I will go into the New Forest to see the old Stanleys.

You know better than that.

Will you pay for a pot of ale?

Don’t drink any more.

Do not speak any more.

I have a great cold.

Warm thyself, sister.

There is no water there.

We are all relations: all who are with us are ourselves.

They have hot blood.

Evil words you do speak, O my dear God.

Make fun, to make the Gentiles laugh.

I have no girls.

What is in it?

Thou art well dressed.

Let me come out.

Don’t do so.

The thing is so: so it is.

Bring me a fork.

To-morrow morning I will give it.

Tell her your mind.

Sleeping with her.

The sun is hot.

I am tired, I can go no farther.

Don’t let the Gentiles know all the money you took which you hid.

Seven pound ten.

Pay again.

Put his hand into your pocket.

The boy is thinking who you are.

* * * * *

I would rather hear him speak than hear Lally sing.

I know no more than a child.

Here’s your health in Romany!

COTORRES OF MI-DIBBLE’S LIL CHIV’D ADREY ROMANES PIECES OF SCRIPTURE CAST INTO ROMANY

THE FIRST DAY Genesis i. 1, 2, 3,

DREY the sherripen Midibble kair’d the temoprey tá the puv; Tá the puv was chungalo, tá chichi was adrey lis; Tá temnopen was oprey the mui of the boro put. Tá Midibble’s bavol-engri besh’d oprey the pánior; Tá Midibble penn’d: Mook there be dute! tá there was dute. Tá Midibble dick’d that the doot was koosho-koshko. Tá Midibble chinn’d enrey the dute tá the temnopen; Tá Midibble kor’d the dute divvus, tá the temnopen kor’d yo rarde; Tá the sarla, tá the sorlo were yeckto divvus.

THE FIFTH DAY Genesis i. 20, 21, 22,

THEN Midibble penn’d; Mook sore the panior Chinn tairie jibbing engris bute dosta, Tá prey puv be bute dosta chiricles To vol adrey the rek of the tarpe.

Then Midibble kair’d the borie baulo-matches, Tá sore covar that has jibbing zi adreylis, The bute, bute tairie covars drey the panior Sore yeck drey its genos kair’d Midibble,

The chiricles that vol adrey the tarpe Sore yeck drey its genos kair’d he lende: Then Midibble dick’d that sore was koosho-koshko, And he chiv’d his koshto rokrapen opreylen:

Penn’d Midibble: Dey ye frute ever-komi, Ever-komi be burreder your nummer, Per with covars the panior tá durior, Tá prey puv be burreder the chiricles!

Then was sarla tá sorlo panschto divvus.

THE CREATION OF MAN Genesis i. 27,

THEN Mi-dibble kair’d Manoo drey his dikkipen, Drey Mi-dibble’s dikkipen kair’d he leste; Mush and mushi kair’d Dibble lende And he chiv’d his koshto rokrapen opreylen:

Penn’d Mi-dibble: Dey ye frute ever-komi, Ever-komi be burreder your nummer; Per with chauves and chiyor the puvo And oprey sore the puvo be krallior,

Oprey the dooiya and its matches, And oprey the chiricles of the tarpé, And oprey soro covar that’s jibbing And peers prey the mui of the puvo.