In Great Britain it is the Gypsies alone who
understand nature's supreme charm, and enjoy her largesse as it used
to be enjoyed in those remote times described in Percy Aylwin's poems
before the Children of the Roof invaded the Children of the Open Air,
before the earth was parcelled out into domains and ownerships as it
now is parcelled out. In the mind of the Gorgio, the most beautiful
landscape or the most breezy heath or the loveliest meadow-land is
cut up into allotments, whether of fifty thousand acres or of two
roods, and owned by people. Of ownership of land the Romany is
entirely unconscious. The landscape around him is part of Nature
herself, and the Romany on his part acknowledges no owner. No doubt
he yields to _force majeure_ in the shape of gamekeeper or constable,
but that is because he has no power to resist it. Nature to him is as
free and unowned by man as it was to the North American Indian in his
wigwam before the invasion of the Children of the Roof.
During the time that I was staying in Flintshire and near Capel
Curig, rambling through the dells or fishing in the brooks, it was
surprising how soon the companionship of a Gorgio would begin to pall
upon me.
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