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.