The Jollipore Ball
At Jollipore lived a sleek Parsee,—
RUNNYDASS, RUMMYBHOY, CURSETJEE.
With keeping the only shop of the Station,
He united a Sowcar's occupation.
A plump little man, with a waddling walk,
In mien most mild, most courteous in talk;
If you caught him cheating, you'd only smile,
He did it in such a pleasant style,—
As if he were only striving to please
By accepting from you a few rupees!
Ah not without meaning did Nature place
That keen little eye in that smooth sleek face,
That restless, inquisitive, hungry eye,
Which nothing could pass unscrutinized by!
Alone midst Hindoos, he lived like Hindoos,
Dressed in turband, and cloths, and light-yellow shoes,
Ruby and diamond rings gleamed on his hands:
He was rich in gold, and houses, and lands:
Massive chains on his person he wore,
And all knew his Phaeton in Jollipore.
When at evening he drove his pair of Pegus
He received low salaams from all the Hindoos;
And a nod from the Sahibs, as if to say,
'That's a good sort of fellow in his small way.'
Now Rummybhoy had his own aims in view
As stouter and sleeker and richer he grew.
"By Master's favour I'll rise," thought he,
"And be called by the Sahibs the Model Parsee.
And then—who knows—I may rise and rise,
And receive some tremendous, unlook'd for prize.
There's SIR SALAH JONG, there's SIR MADAVA ROW,
I dare say I'm richer than both of them now,
Then why should I not, too, rise to be
The great SIR RUMMYBHOY CURSETJEE?
Ha!—Good!—Let me think!—as the first step of all,
I'll give—yes—next week—a great GRAND BALL!"
He announced his scheme. To each gent in the station
He made a little verandah-oration.
To the Collector he said, "If Master please,
I will give for this Ball one thousand rupees."
A committee was formed of three or four
Of the leading gentry of Jollipore.
In their hands the Parsee entrusted all
The arrangements required for the forthcoming Ball,
They tasted the Champagne beforehand to see
It was real Simpkin, not gooseberry.
(Afterwards Rummybhoy used to say
Six dozens disappeared in this mild way!)
They issued the 'invites.' At length the night came
Which should inaugurate Rummybhoy's fame.
O what a rare sight was the "Public Hall"
On the night of the famous Jollipore Ball!
From above colour'd lamps their lustre flung;
And around gay flags and curtains were hung.
From the roof silk cloths, white, crimson, and gold,
Here tastefully droop'd in some elegant fold:
Whilst there some leafy device might be seen,
Whence grapes in cluster fell purple and green.
Each window'd recess of the Hall was a bower
Of pomegranates in fruit, and pomegranates in flower.
The doors were festoon'd with hollyhocks,
Rose, tuberose, myrtle, verbena, and phlox.
And creepers in flower, with tendrils of vine,
Around the pillars were taught to twine.
And now on the well-wax'd boarded floor
Throng'd the fair and the elite of Jollipore:
Twenty-six gentlemen, ladies eighteen,
Lent a life and a soul to the pleasant scene.
Merry music, fair forms in movement light,
And lovely faces aglow with delight.
There supporting the fragile Emily Moore
Whirl'd Snaffle, the pride of his cavalry corps.
Here Miss Flashleigh's dark-eye shot its fieriest glance,
As young Spoonington span her along in the dance.
Even old Judge Sneerwell was heard to confess
That the Parsee's Ball was a perfect success.
And sweet Alice Grey was heard to sigh,
As she sped in the arms of her lover by,
—"O George, how pleasant! I wish you could be,
To give such nice Balls, a wealthy Parsee!"
Ah little they knew what was coming to pass
Just that very moment to Funnydass!
For never before had Rummybhoy
Been so puffed up with pride, so elated with joy.
Grin after grin on his features glow'd:
Hither and thither he bustled and strode:
Dressed in his best, with bran new things on,
And the largest of all his diamond rings on.
Then off he went to the Public Hall
To see for himself the Jollipore Ball.
But first to the Supper-Room went the Parsee,
From whence, through the half-open door, he could see
The ladies fleetly and faerily pass,—
(What nautch-girls they'd make, thought Funnydass!)
A cluster of gentlemen stood near the door,
Round Rice the Collector of Jollipore:—
Said Colonel McDreepweel, "Rice, ma boy,
Wha's this canny body—'this What's-his-name-bhoy?
He's gin us a varra successfu' hop!
Is it true the auld nigger keeps a wee shop?"
The Parsee listened. His heart leapt high
With exultation and ecstasy.
Round the room he had entered he glanced with pride,
At the viands and wines he himself had supplied.
Then took a decanter that stood hard by,
Put its neck to his lips, and drained it dry.
Then thereby with sudden decision embued,
And fast grown elated (in other words, screwed,)
Took another small peg—deck'd his face with a grin—
Peep'd once more through the door—then straight stalk'd in.
Grim Major Cruncher, tall Captain Fusee,
Were 'Stewards' that night, and spied the Parsee.
They strode up and said to him gruffly, "Hullo!
Who the deuce, pray, are you? We don't want you here! Go!"
To which the Parsee, determined to stick up
For his rights, replied with a dignified hiccup,—
"I gave dis Ball, sare, I've come (hic) to see
B'ut'ful Ladies, bare necks, (hic) white arms!—He, he!
Dance up, dance down, go round, (hic) much charms,
Clasp'd very tight—like this—in Sahib's arms!"
—Hereat with a giggle the merry Parsee
Put his arms round the waist of th' astonish'd Fusee!
Need I say, in a trice, they half-pushed, half-bore
The struggling Rummybhoy back through the door?
He roar'd as loud as his lungs were able,
He tried to clutch hold of the supper-table,
Kick'd, gnashed his teeth, swore, pull'd Cruncher's hair,
And fell, with poor Fusee, over a chair.
Then while as yet he was down on all fours,
He was dragg'd by the Major, heels-up, out of doors.
Then spake fierce Cruncher to fiery Fusee,
"Let's teach him a lesson—let's duck the Parsee!"
The stars were bright: 'twas a lovely night:
In the tamarind glitter'd the firefly's light.
Not a cloudlet went through the firmament,
From whence the moon her sweet face bent.
Not a sound the balmy stillness broke,
Save a frog's luxurious, languid croak—
A frog that sat in his moist mud-hole
And in music gave vent to the joy in his soul!
And strange to relate (so mysterious is fate)
'Twas doom'd that the Parsee's luckless pate,
In that very site, that very night,
Should fearfully, suddenly, swiftly alight!