"Big mob book," he said indifferently, and turned his
attention to the last trunk of all.
Near the top was a silver filigree candlestick moulded into the form of a
Convolvulus flower and leaf--a dainty little thing, but it appeared
ridiculous to Cheon's commonsense mind.
"Him silly fellow," he scoffed, and appealed to the Maluka for his
opinion: "him silly fellow? Eh boss?" he asked.
The Maluka was half-buried in books. "Um," he murmured absently, and
that clinched the matter for all time. "Boss bin talk silly fellow" Cheon
said, with an approving nod toward the Maluka, and advised packing the
candlestick away again. "Plenty room sit down longa box," he said,
truthfully enough, putting it into an enormous empty trunk and closing
the lid, leaving the candlestick a piece of lonely splendour hidden under
a bushel.
But the full glory of our possessions was now to burst upon Cheon. The
trunk we were at was half filled with all sorts of cunning devices for
kitchen use, intended for the mistress's pantry of that commodious
station home of past ignorant imagination.
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