Excerpt from Gypsy and Ginger Therefore Ginger knew that the cottage had got to be hers. She went to the Pub to ask about it, and the Pub gave her shandygaff and cheese and said it belonged to the Blacksmith. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.

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When Gypsy and Ginger got married--Oh, but before that I ought to say that those were not their names.Hers was the name of the most beautiful of women, and his the name of the most victorious of men. But they were not a bit like that really. Parents make these mistakes, and the false prophecies they invent for their infants at the font continue to be their delusions through life.But nobody else's. As they grow up the children find their level, and are called according to their deserts. And so Gypsy was called Gypsy because his hair wasn't really quite as black as a gypsy's; and Ginger was called Ginger because her hair was the sort of hair that those who adore it love to insult. It was anything but ginger; or rather, it was everything besides. Such as mace, and cinnamon, and nutmeg, and cayenne, and ochre, and burnt sienna, and vandyke brown and a touch of chrome no. 3; and one hair, named Vivien, was pure vermilion. It was a ridiculous mixture really, and resembled the palette of an artist trying to paint beechwoods in Autumn. No, it didn't; it resembled the beechwoods. In thinking of Ginger's hair you must begin again, and washout all the above colours, which are not really colours, but paints.Ginger's hair, like all the colours of earth and sky, was made of fire and light. That is why colours can never be painted. I'm sorry to have gone on so long about Ginger's hair, but I couldn't help it; yet I should have been able to, for the hair itself was short. When she combed it over her head and face it hung as low as her upper lip, and so on all the way round, very smooth on the top, very thick at the bottom, and doing a lovely serpentine in and out just below the level of her eyebrows. When it got to her lip it did another one in, and never came out again. .

Excerpt from Gypsy's Year at the Golden Crescent Ats, feathers, Shoes, ribbons, bonnets, Slippers, dresses, boots, aprons, collars, cuffs, laces, nets, cloaks, sacks, Shawls, cassocks, bracelets, brooches, rings. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.

Excerpt from Madge O' the Pool: The Gypsy Christ and Other Tales When the January fog hangs heavy upon London it comes down upon the Pool as though it were sluiced there like a drain, or as a mass of garbage shot over a declivity in a waste place. The Pool is not a lovely spot in winter, though it has a beauty of its own on the rare days when the sun shines in an unclouded frosty sky, or when a north-wester comes down from the distant heights of Highgate and Hampstead, and slaps the incoming tide with short splashes of waves washed up by the downward current, till the whole reach of the Thames thereabouts is a jumble of blue and white and of gleaming if dirty greys and greens. On midwinter nights, too, when the moon has swung up out of the smoke, like a huge fire-balloon adrift from the. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.

Excerpt from Gypsy's Sowing and Reaping Down in the sweet, warm hay, among the dried clover and buttercups and feathered grass, 3 great hollow was scooped like a nest, and out of it rose a round, nut-brown face, with brown eyes and ripe, red lips, and hair as black as a coal. As one climbed up the ladder, that was all that could be seen. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.

Excerpt from The Little Gypsy This tailor had a wife. Neat, active, industri ous, and obliging, Marguerite had many excellent qualities; but, as Wolf sometimes said laugh ingly, the baker had put too much yeast in the bread. It must be confessed, that if Marguerite was warm-hearted, she was also hot-headed. She sighed for rank, riches, and pleasure; and annoyed with her silly complaints the worthy Wolf, whose ambition never soared beyond the limits of his mountains. But, in Spite of her faults, Marguerite was the best Wife in the world; and, when she was loving and gay, Wolf quickly forgot her weaknesses of character. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.

Excerpt from Gypsy Breynton It had a bed in it, as well as several chairs and a carpet, but it required considerable search to discover them, for the billows ot feminine drapery that were piled upon them. Three dresses, Tom counted, to make sure. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.

Excerpt from Allward: A Story of Gypsy Life You're as safe as a mole beneath the ground. Dad's not said a word. Bless you, he wouldn't even call a doctor, in case-like. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.