"Perhaps
you wouldn't like them so much inside if you did see them," he added.
"Oh, let's go on," urged Grace at Betty's elbow. "I'm dying to see more
of them, even if I am horribly afraid. Just look at all the tents they
have put up. They must expect to stay a long time."
The girls' eyes grew wider and wider as they advanced toward the circle
of flickering firelight. It seemed they were not the gypsies' only
visitors, for there were many residents of Deepdale, some of whom the
girls recognized.
The roving folk had set forth their wares upon rudely constructed
tables, ready for the first purchaser. Some of the things were truly
beautiful--pieces of rare old lace, chains and chains of many-colored
beads, silver that was polished till it reflected dazzlingly the dancing
firelight. There were rude tents set aside for the telling of fortunes,
and somewhere further back in the camp the wild, sweet strains of a
violin mingled with a man's sweet tenor voice.
"Some of those fellows surely can sing," Frank remarked. "I'd give a
good hundred dollars this minute if I had his voice."
"I wish I could find one for you, Frank," said Grace.
Pages:
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41