he became a little over-free towards one of the
women, when a gipsy "came crack over his
head with a bottle," and a scuffle ensued.  The
sham tinkler was discovered to be no tinkler at
all, and put to various degrading uses in return
for his intrusion, while kept as the prisoner
of the gang for several days.  In consequence
of which discourteous treatment James enacted
that if three gipsies were found together in
any part of his dominions, any of his subjects
might seize and hang or shoot one of the three
out of hand forthwith.

The poor gipsies had a bad time of it in
Scotland after this.  They and the witches had
enough to do to live at all through the storms
of persecution and prejudice continually breaking
out against them; but they did live through
them, and increased and multiplied according to
the manner of their kind till they grew to be at
times formidable to public peace;—always
formidable more or less by reason of the robberies
and petty thievings, and sometimes murderous
assaults and international fights, with which
they indulged themselves and helped out their
means of living.

They seem to have organised themselves into
thoroughly well-drilled plunder bands, with
captains and lieutenants, offices, disguises,
accomplices, and detectives all complete; and for
those who knew the knack, there was nothing
easier than to get back a purse stolen in the
fair, or to save themselves from the footpad
twirling his bludgeon with "stand and
deliver!" as the open sesame of the pocket.
"Gleid Neckit Will," the great black burly
gipsy chief known as Will Faa the gipsy king,
once attacked the minister of Yetholm, but, so
soon as that gentleman spoke to him by name,
loosed his hold and took him in safety through
the "bad bit."  Others fell in with gipsy chiefs,
talked to them pleasantly, and obtained "tokens"
or passes—a knife, a coin, a ring, what not—
which, showed to the inevitable footpad, procured
instant immunity and respect.  McDonald and
his brother-in-law, James Jamieson, were
notorious evil-doers in the footpad and thieving line;
but anecdotes might be told of them, as of others,
where friendly behaviour and confidence got
back the "lifted" property, or hindered it from
being taken.  One Campbell, a farmer, going to
market to buy a horse, was robbed by this
Captain McDonald, to whom he had shown his
money; but he had it all returned the next
day, sitting with the gipsy chief at a certain
house in Perth, and seeing pocket-book after
pocket-book brought in while they were drinking
whisky-toddy together.  "The gipsy chief
was, in fact, but doing a very important branch
of his calling, and was on that day doing a
considerable business, having a number of youths
ferreting for him in the market, and coming in
and going out continually."

When McDonald and Jamieson were hanged
at Linlithgow, Annie McDonald, the widow of
the one and sister of the other, took up the
reins of government, and dispensed her royal
protection or restitution as time and circumstances
seemed fitting.  David McRitcliie, a friend
of Mr. Simson's, told him how he purchased a
horse one day at a fair in Dunfermline; when,
feeling for his pocket-book, it was gone.  As
he knew Annie McDonald well, he sought her
out, told her his tale, and asked for her help.
"Some o' my laddies will hae seen it, Davie;
I'll inquire," was her answer.

Taking him to a public-house, she told him
to be seated, and to drink; then learning all
there was to learn of the pocket-book by way
of marks and signs, she entered the fair, and
after various doublings and windings reached
her bureau of business.  In about half an hour
she returned with the book, all its contents
undisturbed, cash, notes, papers, &c., exactly where
they were, and scrupulously intact.  "The
affair was transacted in as cool and businesslike
a manner as if Annie and her 'laddies' had
been following any of the honest callings in
ordinary life."  Great fears were entertained
for the peace of the neighbourhood when those
two gipsy chiefs McDonald and Jamieson were
hanged; and the prison authorities were
accompanied by a strong armed escort—"the whole
scene presenting such an alarming and warlike
appearance, that the people of the town and
surrounding company compared it to the bustle and
military parade which took place twenty-five years
before, when the rebel army made its appearance
in the neighbourhood."  Nothing, however, was
attempted by the gipsy bands; and when they
arrived at the gallows, McDonald, who had
expected a rescue, was bitterly disappointed.
Looking round him, he said: "I have neither friends on
my right hand nor on my left: I see that I must
die;"  and turning to the hangman, John
Livingston, he put something into his hand,
saying,  "Now, John, don't bungle your job."
Ever afterwards it was a cant cry in Linlithgow
against the hangman, " Now, John, don't
bungle your job.  What was it the tinkler gave
you, John?"

McDonald's first wife had been a virago called
Eppie Lundie, famous for stripping her victims
if met with in lonely places, leaving them in
woods and fields stark as when they were born;
but she was too much of a vixen even for her
robber husband, and he divorced her over a dead
horse, according to the rites and ceremonies of
his race.  This is an effectual but expensive
manner of getting rid of a bad wife among the
gipsies; for horseflesh is dear, and the gipsies
do not eat it when killed, and as the sacrifice
must be unblemished and in no manner lame, it
is not therefore any "old screw," worn out and
useless, that will answer the purpose.  The sun
must "be at its height" when the ceremony is to
take place; none but gipsies of full blood are
allowed to be present; and lots are cast for the
one who is to be the sacrificial priest on the
occasion.  All the men and women taking part in
the rites carry Iong staves; and the priest, with
a long staff in his hand, walks round and round
the horse many times, repeating the names of all
who have possessed it, and extolling its qualities
and virtues.  Then it is shot; and the man and