{"id":"01KG8AKYV1VB7XPWX0JV1PC9MG","cid":"bafkreiauqrae6xm22jszp2uedudhwgirecnoql3cdundofsctks5aurary","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":10196,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:18.539Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KG89J1HYC04JWXEK48P07WPK","start_line":10116,"text":"CHAPTER XCIV.\r\nOf That Jolly Old Lord, Borabolla; And That Jolly Island Of His,\r\nMondoldo; And Of The Fish-Ponds, And The Hereafters Of Fish\r\n\r\n\r\nDrawing near Mondoldo, our next place of destination, we were greeted\r\nby six fine canoes, gayly tricked out with streamers, and all alive\r\nwith the gestures of their occupants. King Borabolla and court were\r\nhastening to welcome our approach; Media, unbeknown to all, having\r\nnotified him at the Banquet of the Five-and-Twenty Kings, of our\r\nintention to visit his dominions.\r\n\r\nSoon, side by side, these canoes floated with ours; each barge of Odo\r\ncourteously flanked by those of Mondoldo.\r\n\r\nNot long were we in identifying Borabolla: the portly, pleasant old\r\nmonarch, seated cross-legged upon a dais, projecting over the bow of\r\nthe largest canoe of the six, close-grappling to the side of the Sea\r\nElephant.\r\n\r\nWas he not a goodly round sight to behold? Round all over; round of eye\r\nand of head; and like the jolly round Earth, roundest and biggest about\r\nthe Equator. A girdle of red was his Equinoctial Line, giving a\r\ncompactness to his plumpness.\r\n\r\nThis old Borabolla permitted naught to come between his head and the\r\nsun; not even gray hairs. Bald as a gourd, right down on his brazen\r\nskull, the rays of the luminary converged.\r\n\r\nHe was all hilarity; full of allusions to the feast at Willamilla,\r\nwhere he had done royal execution. Rare old Borabolla! thou wert made\r\nfor dining out; thy ample mouth an inlet for good cheer, and a\r\nsally-port for good humor.\r\n\r\nBustling about on his dais, he now gave orders for the occupants of our\r\ncanoes to be summarily emptied into his own; saying, that in that\r\nmanner only did he allow guests to touch the beach of Mondoldo.\r\n\r\nSo, with no little trouble—for the waves were grown somewhat riotous—we\r\nproceeded to comply; bethinking ourselves all the while, how annoying\r\nis sometimes an over-strained act of hospitality.\r\n\r\nWe were now but little less than a mile from the shore. But what of\r\nthat? There was plenty of time, thought Borabolla, for a hasty lunch,\r\nand the getting of a subsequent appetite ere we effected a landing. So\r\nviands were produced; to which the guests were invited to pay heedful\r\nattention; or take the consequences, and famish till the long voyage in\r\nprospect was ended.\r\n\r\nSoon the water shoaled (approaching land is like nearing truth in\r\nmetaphysics), and ere we yet touched the beach, Borabolla declared,\r\nthat we were already landed. Which paradoxical assertion implied, that\r\nthe hospitality of Mondoldo was such, that in all directions it\r\nradiated far out upon the lagoon, embracing a great circle; so that no\r\ncanoe could sail by the island, without its occupants being so long its\r\nguests.\r\n\r\nIn most hospitable vicinity to the water, was a fine large structure,\r\ninclosed by a stockade; both rather dilapidated; as if the cost of\r\nentertaining its guests, prevented outlays for repairing the place. But\r\nit was one of Borabolla’s maxims, that generally your tumble-down old\r\nhomesteads yield the most entertainment; their very dilapidation\r\nbetokening their having seen good service in hospitality; whereas,\r\nspruce-looking, finical portals, have a phiz full of meaning; for\r\nniggards are oftentimes neat.\r\n\r\nNow, after what has been said, who so silly as to fancy, that because\r\nBorabolla’s mansion was inclosed by a stockade, that the same was\r\nintended as a defense against guests? By no means. In the palisade was\r\na mighty breach, not an entrance-way, wide enough to admit six Daniel\r\nLamberts abreast.\r\n\r\n“Look,” cried Borabolla, as landing we stepped toward the place. “Look\r\nMedia! look all. These gates, you here see, lashed back with osiers,\r\nhave been so lashed during my life-time; and just where they stand,\r\nshall they rot; ay, they shall perish wide open.”\r\n\r\n“But why have them at all?” inquired Media.\r\n\r\n“Ah! there you have old Borabolla,” cried the other.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 1"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJWVXWAQG97F38W72DQJ3","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1HYC04JWXEK48P07WPK","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKYTWSMTTNCPWCNX8Y5ER","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:21.345Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:33.141Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}