So goes one old Scottish lullaby, echoing the fear with which Gypsies ("Tinkers," "Travelers," or "Rom") have long been regarded. Like other groups of cultural outsiders, superstitions about the Gypsies abound: accused in centuries past of witchcraft, child theft and cannibalism, today they are still disparaged as fundamentally shiftless, crafty and dishonest. To some extent, this portrayal holds a kernel of truth if one judges by gadjo (non-Gypsy) values -- for Gypsies prize the enjoyment of life, family ties and group loyalty over such "gadjo foolishness" as a life of hard work for the sake of wealth. And while Gypsy ethics dictate fair treatment and honesty among themselves, tricking the gadjo out of a bit of hard cash is another matter... often ) a matter of survival.

Traditionally, the Rom are a secretive people, clannish, wary of outsiders. They have no written history -- or much interest in such history. But linguistic evidence supports the theory that the original Gypsies probably came from the Indian subcontinent, entering Europe in successive waves from the 14th century onward. Passing themselves off as pilgrims from Egypt, or as royal refugees from the fictitious land of "Little Egypt," the earliest nomads were tolerated in medieval Europe when the fervor for religious pilgrimage was at its height. This tolerance waned as their population grew, and persecution of Gypsies has been the norm ever since. In the last several hundred years the Rom have survived enslavement, xenophobia and successive threats of genocide to become one of the largest minorities living in Europe today. Ten years ago, the International Romani Union was granted voting status by the United Nations -- although they are, uniquely, not only a people without a homeland, but without even a dream of a homeland. Their dreams, and their songs, and their stories, are of the road that has no end.

Despite the deep suspicion with which the Gypsies themselves are regarded, their mastery of the arts of music, dance and storytelling has been widely acknowledged. The lore of the Gypsies, entwined with the folk tales and songs of each country in which they have settled, forms one of the most vibrant and magical oral traditions extent today. According to a Cale Gypsy story, at the beginning of the world "God made the 'Busno' [a non-Gypsy] out of slime, then he made a woman out of the Busno's spare rib. Later on he found that the world was so dull with these two Busnos and their children that he said to himself, 'I must liven things up.' So one night, when the man was sleeping in his cave, God goes and takes a bit of his jawbone and in a twinkling of an eye he makes out of it a stiff and sturdy 'Calorro' [Gypsy], alive and kicking."

A less flattering tale, related by the famously fatalistic Rom themselves, tells how a Gypsy blacksmith forged the nails that were used to crucify Christ. For this sin, his descendants were condemned to wander the earth, friendless and homeless. Their life ever after was that of the road, which they traveled in bands, or in family groups. Some lived in the traditional horse-drawn, painted caravans (vurdon), others wandered the countryside on foot, carrying their belongings, tents and children upon their backs. Some had huts or permanent camps to live in during the cold winter months -- but the Gypsy ideal was the freedom of the road, and a bedroll beneath the stars.

By the early 16th century, Gypsies could be found in every country in Europe, plying their traditional trades of blacksmithing, woodworking, horse-trading, fortune-telling and crop-picking, as well as the performance arts. In every country where they wandered or settled, harsh laws were enacted against them, restricting their movements, their trades, sometimes their entire way of life. Ferdinand and Isabel of Spain gave the Rom sixty days to abandon their wandering, threatening slavery on the galleys for violators. Philip III forbade them to use their own names, dress, or Romani language "in order that this manner of life may be evermore confounded and forgotten." Spanish law grew ever more restrictive under Philip IV and Philip V until by 1783 Gypsies were forbidden any of their traditional trades, to keep horses, or to leave their place of domicile for any reason whatsoever. It was even forbidden for other Spaniards to refer to them as gitanos (Gypsies). Gypsy culture thrived despite such persecution, and the Gypsy population rose.

Indeed, life was easier for the Rom in Spain than elsewhere in Europe. In 17th-century Denmark, "Gypsy hunts" were organized by the king; one hunter listed, among the animals he'd shot that year, "a Gypsy woman and a suckling child." Other countries simply deported their Gypsies, burned them out, or poisoned their water supplies. In Romania, Gypsy families were bought and sold as field and household slaves. This legal slavery only ended in the mid-19th century - a fact that is shockingly little known today, even in Romania itself. Although finally freed from slavery just over a hundred years ago, the Gypsies continued to be assailed by the Romanian and other governments trying to cope with "the Gypsy problem." They were forced into settlement programs (herded into government housing blocks, where they promptly set up camps outside their front doors); they watched their children taken away for "re-education" and gadjo adoption; Gypsy women were forced, tricked and cajoled into government sterilization programs; they were brutalized by random acts of mob violence to which those in authority too often turned a blind eye. Centuries of persecution culminated in the horrors of the Holocaust, where approximately a half million Gypsies died alongside the Jews in Hitler's extermination camps. "What wrong is there to have dark skin and Gypsy-black hair?" asks one traditional Spanish Gypsy song. "From Isabella the Catholic, from Hitler to Franco, we have been the victims of their wars. On certain nights, I find myself envying the respect you show your dog."

Gypsy stories reflect this tragic history, as well as the black humor with which the Rom both explain it and shrug it off. In Gypsy culture, life is lived in the present -- yesterday and tomorrow are of little accord. Money and food are for sharing, enjoying, not hoarding as the gadjo do: "Today we will feast, tomorrow we'll starve, the next day we'll feast again." Once upon a time, goes a Serbian Gypsy tale, the Gypsies built a church of stone, while the Serbs built one of cheese. When both churches were finished, the two groups agreed to an exchange -- the Gypsies would give the Serbs their church of stone, the Serbs would give the Gypsies their church of cheese and five bright pennies as well. The Gypsies immediately ate up the church of cheese -- which is why they've no church of their own. The Serbs still owe the Gypsies five pennies, and the Gypsies are still asking for them . . . which is why the Serbs must still give Gypsies alms (and the odd stolen chicken!).

Although faced with continuing political and cultural persecution, one still finds Travelers on the road today, making music, telling tales, tricking the gadjo, raising their children, struggling to get by. These days they wander by car, truck and camper van as well as horse-drawn wagon; their communities are both urban and rural, joined by the common dream of the road, the Gypsy ideal of freedom. "To be free, to have money, to live well, and not to work are the things we prize most," one aged Gypsy dancer asserted to historian Bertha Quintana, although another woman added, "Men have more time to indulge in fantasies about freedom. Women have to worry about the table." Gypsy artistry in many forms continues to enrich each culture it touches, each land they pass through. Stories of the road, songs of heart, music drawn from the point where passion and grief entwine and transform into joy . . . all this is part of the Gypsies' lore, and their generous gift to the gadjo.