26. CHAPTER XXVI.
A RECEPTION DAY AT PIMMINEE.
Next morning, Nimmi apprized us, that throughout the
day he proposed keeping open house, for the purpose of enabling
us to behold whatever of beauty, rank, and fashion,
Pimminee could boast; including certain strangers of note
from various quarters of the lagoon, who doubtless would
honor themselves with a call.
As inmates of the mansion, we unexpectedly had a rare
opportunity of witnessing the final toilets of the Begum and
her daughters, preparatory to receiving their guests.
Their four farthingales were placed standing in the middle
of the dwelling; when their future inmates, arrayed in rudimental
vestments, went round and round them, attaching
various articles of finery, dyed scarfs, ivory trinkets, and
other decorations. Upon the propriety of this or that adornment,
the three Vowels now and then pondered apart, or
together consulted. They talked and they laughed; they
were silent and sad; now merry at their bravery; now
pensive at the thought of the charms to be hidden.
It was O who presently suggested the expediency of an
artful fold in their draperies, by the merest accident in
Mardi, to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of their ankles, which
were thought to be pretty.
But the old Begum was more active than any; by far
the most disinterested in the matter of advice. Her great
object seemed to be to pile on the finery at all hazards; and
she pointed out many as yet vacant and unappropriated
spaces, highly susceptible of adornment.
At last, all was in readiness; when, taking a valedictory
glance, at their intrenchments, the Begum and damsels simultaneously
dipped their heads, directly after emerging from
the summit, all ready for execution.
And now to describe the general reception that followed.
In came the Roes, the Fees, the Lol-Lols, the Hummee-Hums,
the Bidi-Bidies, and the Dedidums; the Peenees, the
Yamoyamees, the Karkies, the Fanfums, the Diddledees,
and the Fiddlefies; in a word, all the aristocracy of Pimminee;
people with exceedingly short names; and some all
name, and nothing else. It was an imposing array of sounds;
a circulation of ciphers; a marshaling of tappas; a getting
together of grimaces and furbelows; a masquerade of vapidities.
Among the crowd was a bustling somebody, one Gaddi,
arrayed in much apparel to little purpose; who, singling out
Babbalanja, for some time adhered to his side, and with
excessive complaisance, enlightened him as to the people
assembled.
“That is rich Marmonora, accounted a mighty man in
Pimminee; his bags of teeth included, he is said to weigh
upwards of fourteen stone; and is much sought after by
tailors for his measure, being but slender in the region of the
heart. His riches are great. And that old vrow is the
widow Roo; very rich; plenty of teeth; but has none in
her head. And this is Finfi; said to be not very rich, and
a maid. Who would suppose she had ever beat tappa for a
living?”
And so saying, Gaddi sauntered off; his place by Babbalanja's
side being immediately supplied by the damsel Finfi.
That vivacious and amiable nymph at once proceeded to
point out the company, where Gaddi had left off; beginning
with Gaddi himself, who, she insinuated, was a mere parvenu,
a terrible infliction upon society, and not near so rich
as he was imagined to be.
Soon we were accosted by one Nonno, a sour, saturnine
personage. “I know nobody here; not a soul have I seen
before; I wonder who they all are.” And just then he was
familiarly nodded to by nine worthies abreast. Whereupon
Nonno vanished. But after going the rounds of the company,
and paying court to many, he again sauntered by
Babbalanja, saying, “Nobody, nobody; nobody but nobodies;
I see nobody I know.”
Advancing, Nimni now introduced many strangers of distinction,
parading their titles after a fashion, plainly signifying
that he was bent upon convincing us, that there were
people present at this little affair of his, who were men of
vast reputation; and that we erred, if we deemed him unaccustomed
to the society of the illustrious.
But not a few of his magnates seemed shy of Media and
their laurels. Especially a tall robustuous fellow, with a
terrible javelin in his hand, much notched and splintered,
as if it had dealt many a thrust. His left arm was gallanted
in a sling, and there was a patch upon his sinister
eye. Him Nimni made known as a famous captain, from
King Piko's island (of which anon) who had been all but
mortally wounded somewhere, in a late desperate though
nameless encounter.
“Ah,” said Media as this redoubtable withdrew, “Fofi
is a cunning knave; a braggart, driven forth, by King Piko
for his cowardice. He has blent his tattooing into one mass
of blue, and thus disguised, must have plamed himself off
here in Pimminee, for the man he is not. But I see many
more like him.”
“Oh ye Tapparians,” said Babbalanja, “none so easily
humbugged as humbugs. Taji: to behold this folly makes
one wise. Look, look; it is all round us. Oh Pimminee,
Pimminee!”
