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    Chapter 69

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    The Company Discourse, And Braid-Beard Rehearses A Legend

    Finding in Valapee no trace of her whom we sought, and but little
    pleased with the cringing demeanor of the people, and the wayward
    follies of Peepi their lord, we early withdrew from the isle.

    As we glided away, King Media issued a sociable decree. He declared
    it his royal pleasure, that throughout the voyage, all stiffness and
    state etiquette should be suspended: nothing must occur to mar the
    freedom of the party. To further this charming plan, he doffed his
    symbols of royalty, put off his crown, laid aside his scepter, and
    assured us that he would not wear them again, except when we landed;
    and not invariably, then.

    "Are we not all now friends and companions?" he said. "So companions
    and friends let us be. I unbend my bow; do ye likewise."

    "But are we not to be dignified?" asked Babbalanja.

    "If dignity be free and natural, be as dignified as you please; but
    away with rigidities."

    "Away they go," said Babbalanja; "and, my lord, now that you mind me
    of it, I have often thought, that it is all folly and vanity for any
    man to attempt a dignified carriage. Why, my lord,"--frankly crossing
    his legs where he lay--"the king, who receives his embassadors with a
    majestic toss of the head, may have just recovered from the tooth-
    ache. That thought should cant over the spine he bears so bravely."

    "Have a care, sir! there is a king within hearing."

    "Pardon, my lord; I was merely availing myself of the immunity
    bestowed upon the company. Hereafter, permit a subject to rebel
    against your sociable decrees. I will not be so frank any more."

    "Well put, Babbalanja; come nearer; here, cross your legs by mine;
    you have risen a cubit in my regard. Vee-Vee, bring us that gourd of
    wine; so, pass it round with the cups. Now, Yoomy, a song!"

    And a song was sung.

    And thus did we sail; pleasantly reclining on the mats stretched out
    beneath the canopied howdah.

    At length, we drew nigh to a rock, called Pella, or The Theft. A
    high, green crag, toppling over its base, and flinging a cavernous
    shadow upon the lagoon beneath, bubbling with the moisture that

    dropped.

    Passing under this cliff was like finding yourself, as some sea-
    hunters unexpectedly have, beneath the open, upper jaw of a whale;
    which, descending, infallibly entombs you. But familiar with the
    rock, our paddlers only threw back their heads, to catch the cool,
    pleasant tricklings from the mosses above.

    Wiping away several glittering beads from his beard, old Mohi turning
    round where he sat, just outside the canopy, solemnly affirmed, that
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