Chapter Nineteen.
A Malagasy Garden Party—The Cloud grows Blacker.
The garden party is by no means a novelty of the present day. In the early part of this century—if not much earlier—Malagasy sovereigns seem to have been wont to treat their Court and friends to this species of entertainment.
The order which the Queen had given that her European visitors should attend upon her in the garden, was neither more nor less than an invitation to a garden party, or pic-nic, to be held the following day at one of her surburban retreats named Anosy, about half-a-mile from the city. Accordingly, early in the morning—for the Malagasy are early risers—their friend the Interpreter came to conduct them to the spot, with a gift of a striped lamba for each of the white men.
“Why she not send one for me?” demanded Ebony, pouting—and Ebony’s pout was something to take note of!
“’Cause you’re black and don’t need no clothing,” said Hockins, awkwardly attempting to put the lamba on his broad shoulders.
“Humph! if she knowed what splendid lobscouse an’ plum duff I kin make,” returned the negro, “Ranny Valony would hab sent me a silk lamba an’ made me her chief cook. Hows’ever, dere’s a good time comin’. I s’pose I ain’t to go to the party?”
“Yis—you muss go. All of you got to go. Kill-deaded—if you don’t go.”
“I’m your man, den, for I don’t want to be deaded yet a while; moreover, I want to see de fun,” returned the negro.
Meanwhile the Interpreter showed them how to put on the lamba—with one end of it thrown over the left shoulder, like the Spaniard’s cloak,—and then conducted them to the palace, where they found three palanquins—or chairs supported by two staves—awaiting them. Getting into them they set off, preceded by the Interpreter in a similar conveyance. Ebony and his bearers brought up the rear.