Wanderers’ Lore
Folktales of the Gypsies and Bedouins
Compiled & Edited by
Praveen Dabré
SMASHWORDS EDITION
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PUBLISHED BY:
Praveen Dabré on Smashwords
Wanderers’ Lore
Copyright © 2010 by Praveen Dabré
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a compilation of traditional folklore from across the world. By definition these are in the public domain and free of copyright. However, the author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of those tales that are so copyrighted and have inadvertently been included in this collection.
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Other Books in the Series
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Wanderers’ Lore
Folktales of the Gypsies and Bedouins
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Death the Sweetheart
THERE WAS once a pretty young girl with no family and no relatives: they were all dead and gone. She lived alone in a hut at the end of the village interacting with no one.
One evening a wanderer came to door and cried, “I am a wanderer, and have been far in the world. I can go no further, so please let me rest.” The maiden said, “Stay here, I will give you a mattress to sleep on, and food and drink too.”
The wanderer soon lay down and said, “Now once again I sleep; it is long since I slept last.” “How long?” asked the girl; and he answered, “Dear maid, I sleep but one week in a thousand years.” The girl laughed and said, “Surely you’re joking, you rogue?” But the wanderer was sound asleep.
Early next morning he arose and said, “You are a pretty young girl. If it’s okay with you then I’d like to stay a week.” She gladly agreed, for already she loved the wanderer.
Once as they were sleeping, she roused him and said, “I dreamt such an evil dream. I dreamt you had grown cold and white, and we drove in a beautiful carriage, drawn by six white birds. You blew on a mighty horn and dead folk came up and went with us—you were their king.”
Hearing this, the wanderer arose straightaway and said, “Beloved, I must go, for not a soul has died this week in all the world.” But the girl wept and insisted he stay. “I must go,” he answered, “Good bye.” Then she said sobbing, “Tell me, my dear, who you are then.” “Who knows that dies,” said the wanderer, “you ask in vain.” Then the girl wept and said, “I will suffer everything, only tell me who you are.” “Good,” said the man, “then you come with me. I am Death.” The girl shuddered and died.
– Gypsy
How a Gypsy Saved a Child’s Life
ONE DAY a Gypsy was playing at cockshy—a throwing game, and he threw a stick through the window of a great house and broke the glass.