Extract from the “Liverpool Review,” June 26th, 1886.

The gipsies are still the rage at the Exhibition, and each day King Smith and his Royal consort receive the homage of well-dressed crowds of lady admirers. With the prestige gained by the patronage of Queen Victoria, they come with confidence before a credulous public, and so far their levees have been pecuniarily successful. Their cleanly and well ordered encampment was visited this week by the Mayor and Mayoress, who were much interested, if not edified, by their interviews with these ultra respectable Bohemians. Selling little fancy baskets is ostensibly the only traffic carried on by the olive complexioned family; but this is not their only stock-in-trade. It is surprising to witness the large number of graudes dames who enter the tent for the sole object of having their fortunes told. This strange curiosity was supposed to exist only amongst domestic servants, but Mary Jane’s mistress seems quite as anxious to dive into the mysteries of the future. Many ladies feel ashamed to patronise chiromancy in the Exhibition, but have asked for private appointments with her Majesty Mrs. Smith. Not a few in their eagerness to penetrate into futurity conquer their natural timidity, and boldly enter. In such cases it is an amusing spectacle to observe the furtive manner in which the operation is conducted, and how the fair ones make a hurried exit as if conscious of having done something very foolish and ridiculous. As a rule it is the Queen whose palm is crossed, but some young mashers prefer having their fortunes told by one of the princesses.