CHAPTER XXVII.
Babbalanja Falleth Upon Pimminee Tooth And Nail The levee over, waiving further civilities, we took courteus leave of the Begum and Nimni, and proceeding to the beach, very soon were embarked.
When all were pleasantly seated beneath the canopy, pipes in full blast, calabashes revolving, and the paddlers quietly urging us along, Media proposed that, for the benefit of the company, some one present, in a pithy, whiffy sentence or two, should sum up the character of the Tapparians; and ended by nominating Babbalanja to that office.
"Come, philosopher: let us see in how few syllables you can put the brand on those Tapparians." "Pardon me, my lord, but you must permit me to ponder awhile; nothing requires more time, than to be brief.

An example: they say that in conversation old Bardianna dealt in nothing but trisyllabic sentences.
His talk was thunder peals: sounding reports, but long intervals." "The devil take old Bardianna.

And would that the grave-digger had buried his Ponderings, along with his other remains.

Can none be in your company, Babbalanja, but you must perforce make them hob-a-nob with that old prater?
A brand for the Tapparians! that is what we seek." "You shall have it, my lord.

Full to the brim of themselves, for that reason, the Tapparians are the emptiest of mortals." "A good blow and well planted, Babbalanja." "In sooth, a most excellent saying; it should be carved upon his tombstone," said Mohi, slowly withdrawing his pipe.
"What! would you have my epitaph read thus:--'Here lies the emptiest of mortals, who was full of himself ?' At best, your words are exceedingly ambiguous, Mohi." "Now have I the philosopher," cried Yoomy, with glee.