Classic Poem

Oh! I'm a jolly Gipsy, and I roam the country round;
I'm a real Petulengro as can anywhere be found:
My uncle is a Chilcott, my mother is a Lee,
But I'm the best of all of 'em, and real Rommany.
A real Rommany
From head to foot I be
Who-op! look into my peepers if a Gipsy you would see!

I go to fairs and races, there I'm always to be found;
One day across the country, then back upon the ground:
One day I'm dressed up swelly, like the gentleman of course,
Then the next I come the beggar, a holdin' of yer horse
" Just a threepence, sir. All right!
For I held him jolly tight. "
Who-op! I'm the boy as knows the way to run a horse — by night!

When a cuttin' of my skewers, so peaceable I am,
You'd say, " That Petulengro is the pattern of a lamb! "
But I'm handy with my maulies, as I many a time have showed,
An' can do for any traveller as goes upon the road.
Oh! at fightin' I'm at home,
Quick to dodge an' quick to come;
For at hittin' or at shyin' I'm an out-an'-outer Rom!

How are you, my sweet lady? how are you , my lord? I say:
My wife'll take your money when she comes along this way.
You'll want to give her something — just to keep away the cold —
So I'll step round the corner while your fortune's bein' told.
Then there'll be a patterin',
An' an awful chatterin'!
So I bid you all good evenin' till I come this way again.