Wednesday, June 15, 2011
My little gypsy sweetheart...
Lovelorn #8, from 1950, asks the question: Can a rich boy, born into wealth and privilege, find love with a woman out of his social class? Can a gypsy girl lose her thieving ways to qualify to marry said uppa crust-type guy?
This well-illustrated (by an unknown artist) tale of love crosses class lines. Maybe our hero found out something about gypsy girls, that they (wink-wink, nudge-nudge) are very good at certain things that his high class fiancé could never imagine doing. I mean, this little dark-haired, dark-eyed lovely can not only get her hand into his pocket, she knows what to do with it (besides pick his wallet, that is). Or am I just fantasizing again? Personally, the only gypsy woman I ever met was a 110-year-old crone who tried to read my palm by grabbing my hand in a crushing grip that would bring tears to a lumberjack's eyes.
To be realistic, I give the rich guy and his gypsy sweetheart about six months, especially after her whole family moves into his mansion, then steals and pawns everything they can get their hands on. His high class ex-girlfriend might look pretty good to him about then.