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- CHAPTER XVIII.
They Visit An Extraordinary Old Antiquary
“About prows there, ye paddlers,” cried Media. “In this fog we’ve been
raising, we have sailed by Padulla, our destination.”
Now Padulla, was but a little island, tributary to a neighboring king;
its population embracing some hundreds of thousands of leaves, and
flowers, and butterflies, yet only two solitary mortals; one, famous as
a venerable antiquarian: a collector of objects of Mardian vertu; a
cognoscenti, and dilettante in things old and marvelous; and for that
reason, very choice of himself.
He went by the exclamatory cognomen of “Oh-Oh;” a name bestowed upon
him, by reason of the delighted interjections, with which he welcomed
all accessions to his museum.
Now, it was to obtain a glimpse of this very museum, that Media was
anxious to touch at Padulla.
Landing, and passing through a grove, we were accosted by Oh-Oh
himself; who, having heard the shouts of our paddlers, had sallied
forth, staff in hand.
The old man was a sight to see; especially his nose; a remarkable one.
And all Mardi over, a remarkable nose is a prominent feature: an ever
obvious passport to distinction. For, after all, this gaining a name,
is but the individualizing of a man; as well achieved by an
extraordinary nose, as by an extraordinary epic. Far better, indeed;
for you may pass poets without knowing them. Even a hero, is no hero
without his sword; nor Beelzebub himself a lion, minus that lasso-tail
of his, wherewith he catches his prey. Whereas, he who is famous
through his nose, it is impossible to overlook. He is a celebrity
without toiling for a name. Snugly ensconced behind his proboscis, he
revels in its shadow, receiving tributes of attention wherever he goes.
Not to enter at large upon the topography of Oh-Oh’s nasal organ, all
must be content with this; that it was of a singular magnitude, and
boldly aspiring at the end; an exclamation point in the face of the
wearer, forever wondering at the visible universe. The eyes of Oh-Oh
were like the creature’s that the Jew abhors: placed slanting in his
head, and converging their rays toward the mouth; which was no Mouth,
but a gash.
I mean not to be harsh, or unpleasant upon thee, Oh-Oh; but I must
paint thee as thou wert.
The rest of his person was crooked, and dwarfed, and surmounted by a
hump, that sat on his back like a burden. And a weary load is a hump,
Heaven knows, only to be cast off in the grave.
Thus old, and antiquated, and gable-ended, was the tabernacle of
Oh-Oh’s soul. But his person was housed in as curious a structure.
Built of old boughs of trees blown down in the groves, and covered over
with unruly thatching, it seemed, without, some ostrich nest. But
within, so intricate, and grotesque, its brown alleys and cells, that
the interior of no walnut was more labyrinthine.
And here, strewn about, all dusty and disordered, were the precious
antiques, and curios, and obsoletes, which to Oh-Oh were dear as the
apple of his eye, or the memory of departed days.
The old man was exceedingly importunate, in directing attention to his
relics; concerning each of which, he had an endless story to tell. Time
would fail; nay, patience, to repeat his legends. So, in order, here
follow the most prominent of his rarities:—
The identical Canoe, in which, ages back, the god Unja came from the
bottom of the sea. (Very ponderous; of lignum-vitae wood).
A stone Flower-pot, containing in the original soil, Unja’s last
footprints, when he embarked from Mardi for parts unknown. (One
foot-print unaccountably reversed).
The Jaw-bones of Tooroorooloo, a great orator in the days of Unja.
(Somewhat twisted).
A quaint little Fish-hook. (Made from the finger-bones of Kravi the
Cunning).
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