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Updated: May 12, 2025
"The Little Panjandrum!" exclaimed Marjorie, "I shall be glad to see him at last. What is he like?" "Oh! don't bother me about him," cried the Dodo, impatiently; "he's all right as Panjandrums go, I suppose, but I don't want to get into his clutches again, I can tell you." "Don't you, indeed?" remarked a voice, sarcastically. "Well, His Importance is particularly anxious to see you again, anyhow."
"Take her with us! Why, Daniel Dott! the very idea! Think of Azuba in a place like that Scarford mansion! Think of her and that dignified, polite Hapgood man together! Think of it!" The captain seemed to find the thought amusing. "Say, that would be some fun, wouldn't it?" he chuckled. "I'd risk Zuba, though. He wouldn't do the Grand Panjandrum over her more'n once.
I was just going to inquire of him which was the true version of that story, whether the wolf really ate Little Red Ridinghood up, or whether she ate the wolf; but before I got a chance, a Joblily came in to say that the Great Panjandrum himself was coming, and soon the queerest little, old, round, fat man came in, puffing like a porpoise, and rolling from side to side as he walked.
She'd better have staid abroad." "Your remark is true, Arthur," Bently laughed, "if it isn't very relevant. What people in this country want isn't art at all, but what some Great Panjandrum or other abroad has labeled art. They don't know what is good." "That is so true," was the retort, "that I almost wonder they don't buy your pictures, Tom."
Solomon at first resisted, but finally, on being solemnly appealed to as Grand Panjandrum, he found himself unable to withstand, and thus everything was gradually prepared. Other details were satisfactorily arranged, though not without much serious and earnest debate.
"How many eyes?" he asked. "One," said the Garuly. "How many leaves?" he said, again. "Four," returned the Pickaninny. "Then let them in that they may see the Great Panjandrum himself, and learn whether there be a bag of gold at the end of the rainbow." Saying this the Joblily went under the water and the gate opened.
The chains, however, by which the Dodo was attached to his girdle, prevented him from doing so. The bird, with his beak in the air, and his gloves extended in a most grotesque attitude, was immovable and rigid as stone. Not a muscle moved, and the Little Panjandrum, after staring at him a moment, called out, angrily "Olla balloo calle gablob?"
How's that for a country boasting of "Liberty, Equality and Fraternity" its press and politicians ever prating of "the dignity of labor"! The contest, I'm told, was open to all "respectable young women"; but a working girl, though pure as the lily and fair as the rose, is not considered "respectable" by the would-be patricians of Corncob Corners and the grand panjandrum of the Kay-See Karnival!
"Well, if you can't take the Grand Panjandrum home, you can set on the fence and see him go by. That ought to be honor enough, hadn't it? However, I may need some of your ridiculous figgers on a movin' job of my own, pretty soon. Don't be TOO comical, will you?" "What do you mean by that, Sol Berry?" "I mean that I may decide to move my own house." "Move your OWN house? Where to, for mercy sakes?"
The Panjandrum did not start the wheels at once because he was looking around for his little round button-at-the-top without which he cannot do anything.
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