REVIEW OF LITERATURE. 123 



earth, and yet scarcely belong to it. One of these was Nunkoodaus, the 

 cobbler of Delhi, not long since riding-master to his majesty of that ancient 

 city, and, for all I know, he may still be usefully employed "in provoking the 

 laughter of the sober Mahometans of Delhi. 



" Nunkoodaus was a native of that renowned city : and, though he was 

 not the first of his family, it is to be hoped he was the last of his race. He 

 was like nothing on earth, and yet was human. He stood, if he could be 

 said to stand, just three feet six inches high ; but, viewed in front, he bore 

 a very strong resemblance to a crab ; yet a different prospect presented so 

 many disproportions, that a spectator was at a loss to say what he was like. 

 As he resembled nothing else, he might be said not to resemble himself, for 

 he had a short leg and a long one, a short foot and a long one, a long arm 

 and a short one, a high shoulder and a low one, one foot was turned in and 

 the other turned out, one leg was bowed and the other seemed lovingly 

 to follow it, on one foot were seven toes and on the other five, one hand 

 wanted a thumb and the other had got two, and his fingers violated all the 

 rules of proportion. He was, poor fellow ! odd in every thing, and very odd 

 in every thing he said. He had but one eye in his head, and but one ear on 

 it : and the capital of this Corinthian column seemed shorn of its bumpy 

 honours to swell into monstrous aggravation its most prominent feature. It 

 completely overshadowed his eye, and effectually concealed the expansion of 

 his mouth. All the natural colours, with all their variety of shades, were 

 represented in it ; and the good people of Delhi honoured with as much re- 

 verence the proboscis of Nunkoodaus, as the play-going citizens of London 

 are wont to bestow upon the upturned feature of Mr. Liston. As Orientals 

 are still prone to designate people by convenient soubriquets, it followed, of 

 course, that Nunkoodaus' nose would not be overlooked ; and, accordingly, 

 he was known in his early days by the cognomen of the Nosey Cobbler. 



Nunkoo's mind bore a great resemblance to his body. There was a strong 

 sympathy between them, and the one was just as crooked as the other ; but 

 though, when provoked into anger, he swelled like a frog almost into 

 bursting, and fastened with the tenacity of a leech on the offender, his rage 

 was easily subdued ; and a cup of arrack never failed to convert him into a 

 joke-loving, merry-making little fellow. At such a time he could tell a 

 good story, stuffed with Arabian wonders, and perpetrate a barefaced lie 

 with tolerable plausibility. Like other ordinary creatures, he was gifted 

 with a fine voice, and his stall was daily surrounded with the naked amateurs 

 of Delhi, who delighted in his tenor notes. If he had many good qualities, 

 he had, also, many bad ones. One of his best qualities was an aversion to 

 the bottle, and one of his worst was an inordinate attachment to what it 

 contained. When drunk of this sin he was daily guilty he seemed to 

 forget whether he ought to walk on his hands or his feet, for he used both 

 indiscriminately. Poor soul ! methinks I see him now, waddling along like 

 a plethoric duck, one fellow crying " Allah ! what a nose !" another ex- 

 claiming " welt, that's what may be called a nose \" while a third enquired 

 if it were a nose at all ! Out of these observations grew a fund of vulgar wit, 

 but poor Nunkoo bore it all philosophically ; it was what he was accustomed 

 to, and use doth breed a habit of indifference, even in a cobbler. 



" Nunkoodaus was the only, and, of course, the darling son of his parents. 

 Like their heir, they loved a drop ; and, from a frequent habit of visiting the 

 arrack vender, they dropped into the holy stream while Nunkoo was yet in 

 his eighteenth year. To appease the thirst of grief he got drunk as speedily 

 as possible ; and, while that reverie of the brain continued, the ancient 

 cobbler and his noisy spouse were conged and thrown into the river Ganges, 

 the tunfed-grave of millions. When awakened from the stupor of the brain, 

 nature asserted its sway, and a big tear did homage to the tenderness of his 

 heart ; but the globular liquid served only to remind him of the arrack-shop, 



